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Here's Korra these days:

Yes, she's grown a bit.
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Realized it's been a while since I posted. Still here, just busy.

We have pretty much decided that Korra is part Maine Coon. Based on Red's research, she checks all the boxes--smart, good hunter, not a great jumper, very sociable but doesn't like being held too much, and of course, fuzzy. She's also a bit bossy and I think we're hitting the terrible teens with her.

Clearly I can't stand the sight of her. :)
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Daughter is doing the Disney 5K in two days. I'm insanely jealous; I'd give my right arm to be down there for it. The one I did was just an incredible experience.

Conversation with Red:

"So...I wanted to discuss something with you."


"I was thinking...maybe we could go to Disney next January..."

"Sounds good."

"...and the kid and I could do a 5K together..."

"She'd love that."

"...and...ummm...I'd do the 10K the day after."

"Well, you'd better get training then."

No discouragement, no "get real", just "get to work." God, I love this woman.
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I’m STILL scratching my head over this one, and I honestly don’t know what to do, what I can do, what I should do…

Yesterday Red and I went on the annual Christmas Visit to her parents. For various reasons, we don’t see them very often, and when we do we try to keep it brief. My f-i-l is in his 80′s, my m-i-l in her late 70′s, and while they have had their health issues the past few years, they are still very active.

Oh, and as info, they are both very, very religious conservative.

Or so I thought.

Anyway, we go over and f-i-l lets us in. The minute I enter the house, I notice this really odd smell, one I’ve never encountered there before. It smells like someone has been smoking, but it didn’t smell like nicotine (my mother was a chain smoker so trust me I know what that odor is). At the same time, it doesn’t smell like cigar or pipe tobacco either. I’m at a complete loss on this, so I decide to ignore it and press on.

It was actually a pleasant visit–both of Red’s parents were happy, relaxed and fun to talk with (and this is not a usual occurrence). Her mom took great pride in showing us her new Bunn coffee maker, and on our way out the door she was rambling on about her new car and its rear camera feature. We make our farewells and get into the car.

Red turns toward me. “Did you smell that?” she demanded.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, though.”

“I could swear it was weed,” Red replied. “My sinuses went off the minute we walked in there, and the last time they were like that, I was in high school walking through the commons.”

I had to confess that so far as I’ve known, I’ve never smelled weed–in truth, I probably have, but never had anyone make the connection to me. But honestly, I couldn’t think of anything else that made more sense.

As I said, this makes absolutely zero sense to us. We have no idea if we are right in our assumptions, and for the life of me I have no idea if I should call and ask them about it–hell, I don’t know how to tactfully bring the subject up. It could be that there’s a perfectly logical explanation for all this–but it’s one of those things where I think we’re better off leaving well enough alone.

So…how was your Christmas?
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So Darling Daughter decided to join me in a 5K down at Disney back in October. Since she didn't have the training or experience, we walked it, and we had an incredible time (no pun intended).

As we approached the starting gate, though, I turned to her. "I just want you to know," I said, "that I have a kind of tradition when I do these things, and I just wanted to give you advance warning about it." She looked at me and nodded, wondering what the hell her father would be doing. Then again, she's got two decades of experience with me, so she should know better.

So we got to the gate, I turned to her and smiled, and said: "Let's do this shit!"

"HELL YEAH!" she replied.

I love my daughter.

(And for the record, yes, I do say that quietly every time I start a race...)
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Which admittedly was about 5 years ago...

Daughter got back from Japan, graduated college, did a year with Disney College Program, and now works for Universal Orlando at the World of Harry Potter.

It took me five years and two surgeries, but I ran my first 5K down at Disney World in January 2017. It was a blast and a half. And since then I've run...let's see...five more 5K's, one 6K, and walked a 5K with my daughter last month at Disney World.

In early 2014 I was told that my acoustic neuroma needed to be dealt with. Given the options, I went with Gamma Knife radiation surgery, which is 95% successful in these cases. As a consequence, I pretty much lost most of the hearing in my right ear, but I'm wearing special hearing aids where the one on the right side acts as a microphone, transmitting sound to my left. Good thing I had these, because in 2017 I was told the damned neuroma was STILL growing, so this time it was off to surgery. They got just about all of it; they warned me that the way they had to do it, I was going to lose all the hearing in that ear. I told them it was okay, because I'd pretty much lost all that by then anyway.

And two weeks later I was back in the hospital because I'd developed hydrocephalus (excess fluid pressure in the brain). I now have a shunt in my head to relieve the pressure and I've made a full recovery. My neurologist is thrilled to say the least.

Oh, and also in 2014 I tripped and fell while running. Ended up needing rotator cuff surgery on my right shoulder. That was a fun year, let me tell you. I'm hoping to avoid any more ER trips the rest of the decade.

As a consequence of the shunt surgery, my doctor made it clear he did not want me living in Sunny Omaha by myself, so the company is allowing me to work the rest of my career down here in St. Louis. I'm grateful to say the least. Ironically, Red's employer now has HER working from home, so we each have an office room and see a lot more of each other! I couldn't be happier.

On a sadder note, we lost our eldest cat Misato in early November. She was 16 and not in the best health, so it wasn't unexpected but still sad. The house just felt off without her around, and so we adopted a five-month old bundle of energy named Korra. She's a tuxedo cat like Misato, and she's very clever and fun to have around. The other two cats pretty much tolerate her now, albeit with some grumbling.

So that's the big news. If you want, you can go to the dying hulk called Tumblr and look up notgeorgelucas. I've got tons of pictures of Korra and family out there. I'm also at AO3 under the same handle. Written a lot of stories in the Legend of Korra universe and I'm still going strong.


Dec. 3rd, 2018 02:12 pm
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(Wipes dust off the blog, gives the floor a quick mopping)

Hello. Seems I'm back.
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Darling Daughter made it safely to Japan and is busy getting settled in. She has a new bank account, phone, and (gulp) lives very close to a shopping mall. We're Skyping every few days to stay in touch..

...and yeah, I miss her.
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Haven't seen Broadchurch on BBC America?

You should.


P.S. Just don't read the wiki entry before you start watching...
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My own theory on the whole "John Hurt as the Doctor" bit?

Clara missed one in "The Name of the Doctor" and that's what they have to fix.
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So apparently we have a new Doctor. I was a bit surprised by the choice, as they had been trending younger, but I really like Peter Capaldi. He was fantastic in "Torchwood: Children of Earth", and you have to appreciate someone who can make your own cussing sound akin to "Ave Maria" in comparision.

If I had one wish, it would be that he brings a bit of Pertwee and Colin Baker to the role. I've had enough of the Troughton-esque; I'd like to see a Doctor who is supremely confident in himself and his ability to resolve any situation--and who can back it up every single time.

I told the Redhead this, and added--"You know, kind of like Nathan Stark on Eureka." And she got this lustful, dreamy-eyed look in her eyes...

Never work. Quinn's head would constantly hit the TARDIS doorframe.

I found out about the choice via Twitter, and cluttered amid the announcement was a great deal of sturm und angst about a) why didn't they pick a woman b) ZOMG Moffatt iz wurst producer EVAR, etc. etc. etc. I had to remind myself that this crap did go on back in my early fandom days, but it was more or less restricted to fanzines and newsletters and therefore easier to ignore.

It's gone on since the beginning: producer/Doctor is ZOMG Worst Evar And Must Leave Now, eventually new producer/Doctor is hired, ZOMG Why Didn't They Pick The Person I Thought Would Be Perfect, ZOMG Worst Evar, especially compared to Saint Previous Director/Doctor, and so on.

I really do think the job of DW Executive Producer requires steel-thick skin and kevlar undies...

ADDED: Bleeding Cool says it perfectly.

I dood it!

Jul. 30th, 2013 08:06 am
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I'm just over halfway on the C25K (couch-to-5K) program. It's an incremental process, extending the amount of time you jog/run and reducing the time you walk. I've redone a few steps here and there, because some of the increments took a bit of time to acclimate to.

Well, week 5 day 3 was a doozy--five minute walk warmup, 20 minute jog (no breaks). I was approaching this with a bit of trepidation, because eight minutes had been my max. I was pretty much set on doing day 2 again (8-5-8) and work my way up to it. But this little voice in my head (not to be confused with Red or Daughter, who serve the same function when I'm home) kept saying, "How do you know you can't do 20 minutes? Have you tried? What would it hurt to try and see what happens?"

This is of course the voice that said there was no reason I couldn't run a 5K. This is the voice that is trying to kill me by any means possible. I don't know why I listen to it.

So this morning I set out...and behold, I went 20 minutes non-stop. And honestly, I wasn't nearly as wiped as I thought I'd be. Of course, one does not do the Rocky Victory Dance in public at 7 a.m., but I was pretty hyped.

That's close to two miles. A 5K is just over three. I'm getting there.
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Wow. We made it with ****thirty**** minutes to spare this time!
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In the midst of the aforementioned road trip, on Sunday afternoon my phone reminded me that I had a hearing test scheduled for Monday. Given how wiped I was, you can guess how enthused I was about that, but to be honest, I've been having some problems of late, and my assumption was that Harold the Tiny Tumor had grown a bit and was making things deteriorate even more.

Interestingly enough, the tests belied that notion. The Doctor said I was still at 93% in the right ear, and I wasn't having any balance issues. When I told him that I'd like to have the hearing aid adjusted, though, because I felt like I was still having trouble, he nodded and they ushered me into the technician's office.

She told me to wait a few minutes, then quickly disassembled the hearing aid and gave that thing a thorough cleaning up. It'd been some time since this had been done, and when she handed it back...holy cow. Everything was back to loud and clear. I hadn't realized what the problem was.

So now I'm scheduled every six months to come in and get the thing cleaned up. And at the moment, I'm trying not to wince because man, everything is so LOUD...
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