Friends

I'm coming to the realization that I'm a lousy journal-keeper (and I'd make an even worse journalist, but that's another discussion entirely). This is not a good thing, as "writer" is how I self-identify more often than not, and it does seem that someone laboring under that title should, in fact, write more and better entries than I do. Every time I read a post from certain more-expressive members of my friends list, I am alternately humbled and mildly depressed. Excluding, of course, the real professional writers, who humble and depress me for entirely different reasons.

Here's the catch, I think: I also self-identify as an INTJ. And most of you who've been watching this-here train wreck for a while have figured out this: no matter how hard you try, I can't shake the insidious suspicion that most people don't really want me around and are only tolerating me out of socially-mandated politeness (or a business need, for some of you). So, between the innate introversion and the oft-unjustified sense of ostracism, I don't put a lot of effort into posting daily events that (a) I don't want to share and (b) I'm not sure you want to read. However, I feel a certain obligation to post something because that's what a blog is there for.

What this seems to produce is a disjointed collection of "ooh, shiny!" entries on subjects that interest me and aren't too personal, interspersed with the occasional irate rant that I don't think is likely to keep me from landing my next job. And I'm not sure that any of this is particularly interesting to my hypothetical audience, which only perpetuates my blogging demotivation.

Just venting. Feel no compulsion to comment.

For those of you who don't also follow my wife's LJ, she's started a series of posts on investor education. If you're like me and don't have frickin' clue how the modern economy works outside your own bank accounts, I strongly encourage you to go take a look. Srsly. This is 101-level stuff that, while not the reason I married her, is insanely valuable.

After about two hours of screaming and throwing tools, I have completed my first ever job of basic gunsmithing: installing a new trigger group on one of my rifles. I haven't live-fired it yet, but dry-firing seems to work normally. I feel a warm glow of satisfaction at having accomplished this. Those of you who've watched me assemble furniture are well-aware of my general mechanical ineptitude; this was a welcome change.

The missus and I drove up to the Highland Renaissance Festival this morning. After a bit of misnavigation ably resolved by tracker7, we got there shortly after opening, while crowds were light and parking was easy.

Upon entering the gates, we were immediately sucked into the audience of Doktor Kaboom, self-proclaimed man of Science!. For the next twenty minutes, we were entranced by demonstrations of bottled genies (manganese dioxide reactions), giant swollen chicken heads, banana chunks being fired from a catapult into a youthful audience volunteer's mouth, and hard-boiled eggs being launched from a trebuchet to be caught in washtubs by other young assistants. I am reminded of just how remiss I have been in not assembling the trebuchet that my lady fair got me two Christmases ago. Also, I am reminded that we must always practice safe Science!.

That was easily the best of the roving shows we caught. We spent a couple of hours wandering the vendor booths, looking at things in which I would be much more interested if I were still hanging with the LARP/con crowd and trying desperately to fit into the Bardstown Road quasibohemian scene. Looked at lots; bought little. Came away with a soup bowl from Sarasvati's Call (last year's source of massive mugs that see regular tea use in our house). Also got a cherry tomato plant being grown upside down - it's descending from the bottom of its pot. In the spirit of the day, I tried to use dollar coins for the small purchases, which at least the tea vendors appreciated (though I still maintain that Iron Goddess of Mercy sounds like an Exalted character, not a tea blend).

This was our second year checking out this Faire, and I continue to be impressed with it. Someone has put a massive amount of money - and, more importantly, thought - into setting up the site as an excellent venue for both visitors and actors/vendors. Little to no dickery, good scenery of various sorts, mostly adept performers... all in all, a day well-spent.

However, in the obligatory moment of snark, I must protest this annoying meme of fake mammal tails attached to the back of one's pants or skirt. Girlie, you don't look edgy and fetching. You look like you're trying to shoplift a dead raccoon.

Miss Tennessee has a concealed carry license. I love America.

Setting aside all comments about "huh huh chicks with guns are hawt," I'm rather happy to see another public figure (even on a state/regional level) making a statement and taking primary responsibility for her own safety.