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Nov. 14th, 2009 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickProgress of all sorts.
In the progress of our thiefly pilgrim Garrett, we now have completed Part A of inVase-ive Thief Theft mission. Part A is "get the key that unlocks where the damn vase is." Part B is "use key to unlock vase, steal same." Part C is "escape" but that should be trivial given that I've already bludgeoned half the staff and the other half is dead. Not included in the Mission Objectives is "Navigate through narrow and twisty passageways, all of which look alike", a feature of the game that is probably not game-designer-intentional but more a result of my total inability to navigate. But yeah, progress. It would have gone faster if I'd gone the correct direction in the first place, instead of going the incorrect direction and clearing out the narrow and twisty passageways to Part B before discovering that really, I was in the wrong place and didn't have the key to progress further. Assuming I can ever *find* the location of Part B again, it should go considerably faster than Part A has gone.
On the video-watching front, progress for Roswell: Season 1 complete. The guy who is the not-Max alien (the one playing Michael) is pretty, reminds me of a younger Kilmer (before he got all fat and unpretty). It's watchable, but keeps reminding me of Twilight and not in a good way. Annoyances (major) of the first season were not all that many. One major annoyance was the "faking flashes of revelation while making out with the boy alien" (Maria, I am looking at you) and the way that mapped ever so nicely onto the (unstated) issue of faking orgasm. (It cannot have been just me who read it that way. Or maybe it was just me. But anyway, ick. I wasn't looking to go there with my television experience.)
I also didn't really go for the endless hand-wringing about how she's a person and he's an alien and Their Love Can Never Be-ee-ee-ee. I understand that if you're writing for the Tweens and Teens and whatever, the Their Love Can Never Be-ee-ee-ee motif is a pretty good seller, but I'd much rather they quit whinging and just get on with it. Max, grow a spine. Have a firm *ahem* resolve.BellaLiz, own up to your damn desire. You're allowed to want. Really. It's the naughties now. We permit chix0rs to like teh hawt s3x0r in these our modern times.
I suppose I lack patience with entertainment media that maps guys as "other" via vampires and aliens and stuff. (This, I am given to understand, is a going thing in romance novel smut books for adult women, the "supernatural romance" genre wherein our doughty heroine is banging a werewolf or a vampire or some other transhuman biped. La's friend Amy reads 'em fairly enthusiastically.)
Anyway, along the way we acquired a surprisingly ethical sheriff and another alien (a girl one) so that we can have matching sets of aliens except the boy aliens aren't really on board with that because they have human women (it's true, it's really true -- aliens want our women!) instead, having apparently imprinted on humanity like so many little lost ducklings. I sincerely doubt that they're willing to write Liz and Maria out of the series, so the matched-sets-of-aliens thing is doomed to failure, though not without a significant amount of hand-wringing on the parts of Max and Liz, who seem more interested in whining about why Their Love Can Never Be-ee-ee-ee than going all Carpe Diem on what they can have. Youth is wasted on the young.
In the acquisition of legal media, I picked up Dead Zone seasons 1 and 2 at WalMart, feeding Sam Walton's monster as well as supporting our ailing economy to the tune of just over twenty bucks. (Mitch was right -- it's hella cheap for two seasons of television.) Now, all it has to do is not-suck. I'll keep you posted.
On the pony front, I took the red idiot out today and popped her over the gymnastic line that we'd set up (and failed at, in increasingly less-fail ways) last weekend. Actually, I failed to pop her over the gymnastic line and Trys was like "Your legs are all over the place. You should do some two-point before you go aiming that pony at jumps." I was like "two-what?" Amazingly, two-point fixes all leg issues because if you don't have your legs right, you flop all the fuck over in two-point. In order to have any sort of stable base upon which you can build a body position in two-point, you have got to have your legs right. It's self-correcting. Put upper body in two-point, find place for legs where you can keep upper body not-flopping-all-over, and that's the correct place for the legs. Hold that. (I lose it as soon as I sit down.)
The two-point work shoved my lower legs against the sides of the pony. The pony magically felt confident and secure. The pony trotted over the poles, bopped through the gymnastic line like she'd done it a zillion times, the whole thing looked perfect.
I also moved the triangle jump out to the field o' jumps but there was enough eyeballing going on that I figured we could just look at it a lot today and actually try jumping over it another day. (I have built a jump that I am too chickenshit to jump over.)
On the landlord front, there is still wet carpet in the bedroom that backs up against the bathroom in TA14. I looked at it again today (Tenant has my fucking cell phone number and calls me on my fucking cell phone. At home. On weekends.) and could not find shit.
The tub supply lines (hot and cold) do not seem to be leaking. The cut pipe that used to go to the outdoor spigot is not wet. The shower diverter and pipe up to shower head do not leak when shower is being used. I checked that, as well. These things were all visually inspectable via the access panel that backs up to the tub.
The tub drain is below floor level, does not appear to leak, and so probably not involved in making the floor wet.
The toilet supply line is not leaking that I can see. It is not leaking on the bathroom side of things. On the closet side of things, I knocked a hole in the wall and exposed the elbow where the supply bends to head out to the visible part in the bathroom. The elbow and the pipe running down to it were both dry, dry, dry.
I don't *think* the toilet drain is leaking because the bathroom floor is totally dry.
The sink supply lines do not appear to be leaking. I knocked two holes in the closet wall for them, to expose the same elbow portion that I exposed on the toilet, and both elbows and the lines leading down to the elbows were dry, dry, dry.
The sink drain does not appear to be leaking. I ran a goodly quantity of water into the sink and drained it all at once, multiple times. The visible areas of the drain pipe under the sink are dry. The parts of the drain pipe that I can access inside the wall are dry, dry, dry.
I shopvac'd the water (about a gallon) and shut off the water and left the tenant a note to turn the water on when water is needed, turn it off at the valve when water is not needed. I'm planning on calling Mike early next week to look at this. It's a slow leak, but I think it's getting worse. Maybe Mike can find something. I'm out of ideas at this point.
On the "doing new things" front, I'm going to lunch at the Springs with cousin Heather tomorrow. We have reservations, but we're going anyway. (Small joke, there.)
In the progress of our thiefly pilgrim Garrett, we now have completed Part A of inVase-ive Thief Theft mission. Part A is "get the key that unlocks where the damn vase is." Part B is "use key to unlock vase, steal same." Part C is "escape" but that should be trivial given that I've already bludgeoned half the staff and the other half is dead. Not included in the Mission Objectives is "Navigate through narrow and twisty passageways, all of which look alike", a feature of the game that is probably not game-designer-intentional but more a result of my total inability to navigate. But yeah, progress. It would have gone faster if I'd gone the correct direction in the first place, instead of going the incorrect direction and clearing out the narrow and twisty passageways to Part B before discovering that really, I was in the wrong place and didn't have the key to progress further. Assuming I can ever *find* the location of Part B again, it should go considerably faster than Part A has gone.
On the video-watching front, progress for Roswell: Season 1 complete. The guy who is the not-Max alien (the one playing Michael) is pretty, reminds me of a younger Kilmer (before he got all fat and unpretty). It's watchable, but keeps reminding me of Twilight and not in a good way. Annoyances (major) of the first season were not all that many. One major annoyance was the "faking flashes of revelation while making out with the boy alien" (Maria, I am looking at you) and the way that mapped ever so nicely onto the (unstated) issue of faking orgasm. (It cannot have been just me who read it that way. Or maybe it was just me. But anyway, ick. I wasn't looking to go there with my television experience.)
I also didn't really go for the endless hand-wringing about how she's a person and he's an alien and Their Love Can Never Be-ee-ee-ee. I understand that if you're writing for the Tweens and Teens and whatever, the Their Love Can Never Be-ee-ee-ee motif is a pretty good seller, but I'd much rather they quit whinging and just get on with it. Max, grow a spine. Have a firm *ahem* resolve.
I suppose I lack patience with entertainment media that maps guys as "other" via vampires and aliens and stuff. (This, I am given to understand, is a going thing in romance novel smut books for adult women, the "supernatural romance" genre wherein our doughty heroine is banging a werewolf or a vampire or some other transhuman biped. La's friend Amy reads 'em fairly enthusiastically.)
Anyway, along the way we acquired a surprisingly ethical sheriff and another alien (a girl one) so that we can have matching sets of aliens except the boy aliens aren't really on board with that because they have human women (it's true, it's really true -- aliens want our women!) instead, having apparently imprinted on humanity like so many little lost ducklings. I sincerely doubt that they're willing to write Liz and Maria out of the series, so the matched-sets-of-aliens thing is doomed to failure, though not without a significant amount of hand-wringing on the parts of Max and Liz, who seem more interested in whining about why Their Love Can Never Be-ee-ee-ee than going all Carpe Diem on what they can have. Youth is wasted on the young.
In the acquisition of legal media, I picked up Dead Zone seasons 1 and 2 at WalMart, feeding Sam Walton's monster as well as supporting our ailing economy to the tune of just over twenty bucks. (Mitch was right -- it's hella cheap for two seasons of television.) Now, all it has to do is not-suck. I'll keep you posted.
On the pony front, I took the red idiot out today and popped her over the gymnastic line that we'd set up (and failed at, in increasingly less-fail ways) last weekend. Actually, I failed to pop her over the gymnastic line and Trys was like "Your legs are all over the place. You should do some two-point before you go aiming that pony at jumps." I was like "two-what?" Amazingly, two-point fixes all leg issues because if you don't have your legs right, you flop all the fuck over in two-point. In order to have any sort of stable base upon which you can build a body position in two-point, you have got to have your legs right. It's self-correcting. Put upper body in two-point, find place for legs where you can keep upper body not-flopping-all-over, and that's the correct place for the legs. Hold that. (I lose it as soon as I sit down.)
The two-point work shoved my lower legs against the sides of the pony. The pony magically felt confident and secure. The pony trotted over the poles, bopped through the gymnastic line like she'd done it a zillion times, the whole thing looked perfect.
I also moved the triangle jump out to the field o' jumps but there was enough eyeballing going on that I figured we could just look at it a lot today and actually try jumping over it another day. (I have built a jump that I am too chickenshit to jump over.)
On the landlord front, there is still wet carpet in the bedroom that backs up against the bathroom in TA14. I looked at it again today (Tenant has my fucking cell phone number and calls me on my fucking cell phone. At home. On weekends.) and could not find shit.
The tub supply lines (hot and cold) do not seem to be leaking. The cut pipe that used to go to the outdoor spigot is not wet. The shower diverter and pipe up to shower head do not leak when shower is being used. I checked that, as well. These things were all visually inspectable via the access panel that backs up to the tub.
The tub drain is below floor level, does not appear to leak, and so probably not involved in making the floor wet.
The toilet supply line is not leaking that I can see. It is not leaking on the bathroom side of things. On the closet side of things, I knocked a hole in the wall and exposed the elbow where the supply bends to head out to the visible part in the bathroom. The elbow and the pipe running down to it were both dry, dry, dry.
I don't *think* the toilet drain is leaking because the bathroom floor is totally dry.
The sink supply lines do not appear to be leaking. I knocked two holes in the closet wall for them, to expose the same elbow portion that I exposed on the toilet, and both elbows and the lines leading down to the elbows were dry, dry, dry.
The sink drain does not appear to be leaking. I ran a goodly quantity of water into the sink and drained it all at once, multiple times. The visible areas of the drain pipe under the sink are dry. The parts of the drain pipe that I can access inside the wall are dry, dry, dry.
I shopvac'd the water (about a gallon) and shut off the water and left the tenant a note to turn the water on when water is needed, turn it off at the valve when water is not needed. I'm planning on calling Mike early next week to look at this. It's a slow leak, but I think it's getting worse. Maybe Mike can find something. I'm out of ideas at this point.
On the "doing new things" front, I'm going to lunch at the Springs with cousin Heather tomorrow. We have reservations, but we're going anyway. (Small joke, there.)
