I want one.

I so want this. Just so I can put it on eBay. I'd even thrown in a free Backstreet Boys lunchbox.

Oh, and I'm back. <dies from tired>

Rainy, but not bad rainy.

Today was one of those OMGEXPENSIVE days. After well over a year of me digging in and offering impressive resistance, Mike finally won and today we went to get my eyes checked. I mean it's only been a little over four years! Psfft. Wat-EVAH. Like I care that my glasses have been broken for almost 14 months. I was just getting used to it! And like I care that I've been pushing my luck on my contacts for the past two years. Big bully.

So I lost (but not gracefully!), and off to the optometrist we go. Using the insurance through Mike's work sadly limited our choices, so we wound up picking a doctor in Sherwood, Oregon. Thankfully not as far away as I feared. I've never actually been to Sherwood, so it was in fact an interesting drive. I didn't realize that there was some serious kind of farmland only about 15 minutes south of my apartment. Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, since I only live about 10 from Portland and like 90 from a mountain.

The doctor himself seemed nice enough. He didn't dialate my eyes, so huge points for that. And I got some tests I've never seen before, which tells me any combination of the following things: 1) Eye technology has come a long way in five years; 2) He's paranoid; 3) He's very thorough and all of my previous doctors have sucked a big fat one. Since for like 15 years my optometrists were all Louisianan, I'm not ruling out the last option. He also did an interestingly different glaucoma test, which seemed to involve numbing my eyeballs with drops and then shoving a blue light stick into them. So much better than a puff of air!

As it turned out, my eyes actually hadn't gotten all that worse, considering, and that my astigmatism had actually improved. I dunno how the hell that happened. And he even knew about the "flashy lights = two hours to not be blind for life" thing that some boogeyman doctor terrified me with years and years ago, so yay for him. Good on ya, doc.

That left us with the art of picking out frames which, if you have poor eyesight, you know is well nigh impossible. You can't actually see to try them on, thus you wind up with your nose mere inches from the mirror, trying to appraise yourself. Can't be done. Luckily I had Mike along to help me, and I'm actually excited to get new frames. He's excited to not have to watch the arm fall off of my current pair three or four times a day. I think it's some built-in "Me man. Me provide." instinct.

Incidentally, there are few things in this universe more pathetic than when the arm falls off of your glasses and you have to feel around on your hands and knees to try to find it. Just a tidbit.

The down side to all of this was that, even with insurance, it cost $560. That's for the exam, new contacts, new frames, and both lenses, using super-light, supah-fine material and some clarity glare thingie that Mike wanted to get but which made me tune out. I didn't actually cry in public, and was very proud.

It'll be about a week for the contacts, and a bit longer for the glasses. I'll keep you all informed, because I know that my optomelogical adventures is quite riveting indeed.

Tomorrow, as some of you know, is my and Mike's 4th wedding anniversary (13th for deciding to tolerate one another on a regular basis). To celebrate, we are taking a trip to the coast. This will be the first time I've visited the Pacific ocean since living in California around age 3, and Mike's first time seeing it at all. I've heard great things about the Oregon coast, so it should be very cool. We're staying at the Elizabeth Street Inn right on the beach, and have plans to, either tomorrow or Wednesday, visit the aquarium, because I am a total whore for that sort of thing. EX-CIT-TED. They have sea puppies! Squee! Expect many pictures.

We're going the long way, heading west to Tilamook (because I must worship at the altar of cheese) and then straight down the Pacific Highway to Newport.

So with all of this in mind, and despite the fact that it looks like the temperature will not reach 70 degrees the entire time we're there, we decided today to pick up shorts. This is a huge thing, for you see, sunlight may never kiss our pasty leg-flesh. I expect that we'll wear them for 8 minutes or less before running back to the room to change.

I'm very much looking forward to the trip. I'm not so much looking forward to the fact that I think I'm being forbidden from taking my laptop, but the other is stronger. And with that, this will probably be my last entry until we get back. as we're leaving early tomorrow and still need to have dinner, pack, and finish up S3 of The West Wing.

Oh, and for those curious, a Baton Rogue update: My mother's just fine. Still out of power (no ETA) and getting very hot, but otherwise fine. Her house escaped with only minor roof damage which the government will pay for thanks to the state of emergency called for Louisiana, and some trees uprooted nearby. New Orleans, not quite so lucky, but my mother comes first, so you won't hear me complaining.

....I'm seeing sea puppies tomorrow! <hops up and down>

It's what's for dinner.

A disturbing lunch discussion.

Mike: How about subs?
Me: We just those the other day. You don't mind them again so soon?
Mike: Mike: Nah. The other day I only had six inches of meatball.

Brief useless tidbit.

I scramble to get things done in this disturbingly brief length of time left before the hiatus ends, hence my extreme silence. However yes, my new computer is here, and I love it. I will have a full report (and pictures!) when I can.

I'm working on the 9x08 poster right now (to be finished and hopefully released today). I'm scanning through "Chosen" for screen caps, and I just noticed something that gave me a chuckle.

Dawn's wearing a key necklace in the final fight.



Oh, that Joss.

Because it's wrong.

There have been a few anti-homophobia memes floating around of late. The "if you agree with this then post in your blog/LJ" sort of thing.

I'm not doing that.

I personally feel that a copy and paste protest says little and means less. Please note that I have nothing against anybody who does c-n-p. By all means, feel free to put whatever the heck you like in your journal. It's your journal. However I personally don't feel that the LJ equivalent of "e-mail this to ten of your friends" gives any real weight to the issue at hand, whatever that issue may be. To me, it's like buying a magnetic ribbon to stick on my car, and then feeling like my job is done. It's a hollow gesture. I feel no real sense of accomplishment by pasting someone else's words or someone else's annecdote in my blog/LJ. It took me three seconds to do. Five, if I'm infirmed in some way. It's Rage in a Can.

I don't need them to articulate my support for a plight or cause. I believe my everyday words and actions should be sufficient to indicate where I stand on an issue. If that isn't already clear, then posting a stranger's pre-constructed sentences isn't going to do the trick because that's a failing on my part.

Very few of us – myself very much included – truly do enough to work for the things that matter. A verbal band-aid heals nothing.

Homophobia is wrong. That's what I say, that's what I feel, that's what I believe. Nobody else has to do it for me.

Rar!

Rar! My computer is delayed by a week for no discernable reason!

Rar!!

The Eye is All-Seeing

Snerk.

ETA some food for thought:

"Naturally, the common people don't want war, but after all, it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag people along whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country."

         --Hermann Goering, Hitler's Reich-Marshall, as documented by G.M. Gilbert in Nuremberg Diary.

Laptop Yayness.

My best bit of morning news? My laptop has finally moved phases. It's almost ready to be shipped.

I squee.

Them Duke Boys.

Is it wrong that I desire to see the Dukes of Hazzard movie because big ol' chunks of it was shot in Baton Rouge and I sort of have this want to point out all the places I recognize?

Not that I'm going to pay for it, of course. No no no.