Nancy's Musings

Today's blog is dedicated to crappy science fiction. By that I mean science fiction so bad that even I can't enjoy it. Let us begin with Blake's 7, a show that ends in the entire cast dying in a giant suicide/murder. Frankly, that's all I know about it. I'm not encouraged. My dad thinks it's fabulous. Red Dwarf comes next. For this show I'll say this: it's funny. Most people find it amusing to mock people more pathetic than they - hence the appeal of reality television. Red Dwarf revolves around a guy stranded on a huge garbage scow in space manned only by a sadly anal hologram, the being who evolved from his cat, and an artificial stupidity. The Tomorrow People is the absolute worst show I ever recall slogging through. It was badly written, badly filmed, badly lit, and badly performed. It's basically a very young X-men with a safety net (Tomorrow People, Homo Superior, can't kill). I think I could forgive all of the show's faults if it could...

So these ten guys were waiting for a ride to go hang out with Jesus. He said he'd text them when he was ready to pick them up over by Charlie's, and five of them are like, "dude, my phone is totally dying. Can I use your charger?" and the other five were like, "no, they aren't compatible. It's an LG thing." So when he finally texted that he was on his way those first five were home with their phones plugged in, and only the second five got to hang out. I dunno, that totally works for me. It got some laughs in our meeting today too, but like most things I say out loud, I don't think they got it.

Last night, quite late, my siblings and I (and assorted close acquaintances) invaded Flood Street theaters. We were all going to see Star Trek, and of the ten of us (a brief counting), only one hadn't already seen the film. It's the cheap theater in town, and we don't often get together, so we were rather irreverent. Most of us chose seats on the front row, but we spread out enough to take up the first four rows. Naturally, sitting that far apart, we had to shout to be heard over the shocked silence of everyone else (all seven other people cowering in the back rows) who had come to bask in the glory of J.J.Abrams/Chris Pine/Gene Roddenberry. After choosing seats, Judith immediately turned around and demanded loudly of Mother, "go get us some food." Mother, with her half-smile which means she's awake, paused, turned around, and walked back to the exit. I was appalled. And hopeful. Fortunately, she was just using the restroom, and not actually stooping to such s...

Pine Valley sleeps out by Dixie National Forest, hidden from city lights. Out in the desert on nights when the moon has passed into shadow, the stars flood overhead in overwhelming numbers, and every once in a while one drips across the sky like fire leaking in through the ceiling. Thirteen of us, some spooning in a big circle, all of us watching the shower, made a wish for every falling star while Dustin Davis played classical music on his acoustic guitar. I breathed deeply and drank dark heavens. And silently recited the second verse of "The Rainbow Connection." Do men only want to know what women want so they can trick us into giving them what they want? There is no ur-secret. There is no sacred stone which, when given to a woman, guarantees her unending devotion. One thing will not make her happy for all of her life. No one can make anyone feel something they don't want to. There is no love potion. See Roddy McDowall in "Lord Love a Duck." Women DON'T wa...

I have/had four jobs this Summer. My most stable has been working as a substitute reference librarian for two of the local branches (they fight over me, which is quite gratifying unless you remember that a monkey with computer skills could do my job, but they require a Master's degree just to keep things exclusive). Library Circulation appears relatively simple at first glance. Libraries begin with a building containing books, and a database containing all the information about those books. The database also contains a second layer, namely a list of patrons and information about each one. There are operational restrictions about the borrowing of books (length of time, number of items per patron, etc) and other materials offered. The database abbreviates each item into a code which the computer system reads, and then connects that item to a patron for the appropriate amount of time. There are, of course, complications. There may be different patron types (juvenile, visitor, student,...

I burnt myself rather badly at Lake Tahoe on Saturday. It was totally worth it. Did you know that the water shimmers with gold flecks? That night as I was sleeping hesitantly on my tender back, I dreamed. I married a man. We played chess (not a euphemism) in a badly upholstered room with over-worn shag carpets in seventies colors. We did nothing else for several days, and I felt intellectually satisfied. Then, while he was away at work, something happened and I had to leave to help my family. I didn't leave a note or anything, and didn't see him for three days. When the family crisis was averted I felt a little guilty, as if I'd forgotten my new spouse, so I returned to him feeling rather apologetic. He looked at me sadly, knowing that he had slipped my mind. I curled my arms around his neck slowly and hoped I could undo my carelessness. I woke up when the Advil started to wear off and turned over carefully. Then I dreamed I got a manicure on the side of a bald mountain fr...