Life in Queen Medb's Castle
Friday, June 06, 2003


Just want to announce to the world that I beat Stoney (fair and square, I might add) tonight at Scrabble. Beat him with a score of 343 points to his 218 points. Used all my letters twice. Used X and V and Y and J. It was quite a coup. Quite a coup. Especially when you consider what a lousy speller I am.

I won at Simpson's Trivia too, but that was just luck, cause I was on level one questions and he was on level four questions. Mine were nearly all true/false so I had a 50-50 chance and came off pretty well with that.

He beat me at Trivial Pursuit--the Vintage Years, but just barely. I was on the square for my last piece and missed it, when he landed on his last needed square and got it right. Mine was something about Messerscmitz planes and I'd never have gotten it, not in a million years.

Say, did you know that regulation underwear for women serving during WWII was BROWN. I didn't either, but it was. Learned that tonight.


Why does it have to be ants? I hate ants. Why do we have to be infested with ants? Why couldn't it be spiders or grasshoppers or ladybugs or even flies. I'm not afraid of them. I can knock them about with no problem.

But not ants. I HATE them. And, what's more, I'm afriad of them. Yup, I'm afriad. They are small and fast and can be all over me long before I ever realize they are there. Which is why I hate and fear them so. And I do despise them. Horrid little creatures.

Last night I sprayed, again, around the house, the windows, the stairs, the sidewalk, the doors and every other (un)likely place I could think the nasties might be hiding. Well, today they are hiding on my bill paying desk and running into the kitchen when I come after them. ARGH!

Stoney teasingly mentioned the use of land mines last night, and at the time I just rolled my eyes at him for making fun of me. Today. . . Well, today I think I'll see about ant sized land mines. KaBOOM. Muwhahahahaha.

If I weren't a lady, I'd type a few choice words about those yicky things. *shudders* I hate them!

*collapses into an emotional wreck*
Thursday, June 05, 2003

Virginia Woolf

I'm currently reading The Years, by her. I've only read a few novels by her, but I've liked what I've read. Well maybe "liked what I've read" doesn't convey the right idea. When I read Woolf, I'm compelled to keep reading. I become so engrossed that I have to force myself to put the book down. Last night, after trying to quit for over an hour, I just made myself put the book down in mid-sentence.

Reading her is like being a leaf caught in the river current. She compels me to continue. I may not even "like" what I'm reading or I may feel like I'm reading too fast to catch all the importance, but I'm pushed, pulled, driven on to continue reading.

I've always said that I found her easy to read--a statement that made me quite the hated anomaly in college--and it's true, I do. In part because reading her is like thinking (the whole stream of consciousness thing) and in part because she doesn't give me time to find it difficult. She sweeps me up and rushes me downstream.

I may miss some nuances or even slap-you-in-the-face points because of my Woolf-reading method (imposed on me by Woolf herself, let me remind you) but I really do think I get the feeling, the sense, the Virginia Woolf of the novels. And, so yes, I guess I do really "like" reading her novels. I like sitting back and just listening to what she has to say I like just letting her talk, and not interrupting her with questions, imperative or mundane. I like just being an empty flagon for her to pour her thoughts into til she gets out all of what she needed to say.
Wednesday, June 04, 2003

Rudolph and Promises

Okay, now we all know that Eric Rudolph probably did some very bad things, but at the same time, one just has to say, Woah, dude, how cool are you to survive that long and evade capture that long. Right? Of course I'm right.

Set aside any mindsets you've got about what he probably did and just look at the whole hiding from the Feds for FIVE AND A HALF years and you've got to stand back in admiration.

Again, let me emphasize that his political views are not my political views, this is not a political issue--I'm just flat out amazed by him. I figgered that Bo Gritz snuck him out and he was in Mexico. And all this time he was living nearly in my back yard.

Now, I think I'll go off on a slight tangent for a second. According to the Asheville Citizen-Times (newspaper of my hometown and place of Rudolph's confinement before he was shipped to Alabama, "Investigators asked Rudolph about a campsite after his capture Saturday out of concern a passer-by might be hurt and promised the information would not be used against him, Devereux said." (Devereux, by the way, is a court-appointed attorney. ) That was a nice thought, on the part of the Feds, I first thought, you know, looking out for the innocent hikers, and according to the same source, "Eric Robert Rudolph told investigators where to find his campsite and then assured them it would not be booby-trapped with explosives, an attorney for the former fugitive said."

Well, my question is, if they "promised the information would not be used against him", why are they doing this, according to a Yahoo news story today--

"Federal investigators removed dozens of bags of key evidence from the site Monday. They returned to the site Tuesday, using a chain saw to remove pieces of plastic that had been nailed around tree trunks, part of a contraption Rudolph may have used to keep food suspended and away from animals.
The pieces of tree trunk--and more significantly, the nails pounded into them--were taken away for analysis as possible evidence."

Now, I know I'm an idealist and all innocent and trusting here, but, isn't that, um, breaking their word as gentlemen? Or is the government exempt from such puny ethics as govern the rest of us? I'm just asking, that's all. . . .

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