Bacon and Whiskey

Fat lady gets honest

In which I don’t complain about Powell River overmuch

Posted by Katje on April 25, 2012


Today I drove from Nanaimo to Comox, and from there I took a ferry to Powell River. This was quite a feat for me, being the longest piece of driving I’ve done since before my spinal injury. It was painful, but not too terrible, and some stretching and walking made my back feel…well, less cramped, if not awesome.

Why am I visiting the Hellmouth this small little town, you ask? To visit my mom. And the dog, who was so excited to see me I’m newly bruised in places I didn’t know I could bruise. To say Tyee is exuberant would be understating things.

Mom’s small house is a mess, being in the middle of renovations, but still a familiar and comforting place to me. Even if it is bloody cold and in a town I dislike. Once Mom arrived home (about two hours after I did) I asked her what her wireless password was, so that I could write this post and do some other things. An hour and a half and one call to Telus tech support later, and I got online. Hooray!

Of course, now I’m way too tired and I don’t even remember half of what I was going to say in the post, so I’m just going to leave you with a video from last week of Mom and Tyee howling together. (I just uploaded it to YouTube tonight, but it is from last week.)

Tomorrow I do something regarding filming some poetry, or something? I don’t remember.

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Statue of Liberty vs. Tea Party: no contest

Posted by Katje on April 16, 2012


Saturday night we spent in Salem, Oregon at my friend Indigo’s place. Her house is HUGE and with rent so reasonable I half considered picking up and moving there like, yesterday. (There being Salem, not necessarily her house.)

Sunday morning afternoon we headed north again and stopped in Portland for a visit shopping trip, as mentioned before. Leaving Portland was interesting, as they apparently don’t believe in signs. Or bathrooms. We decided that a 2 hour movie could be made –called Road Trip 4: Escape From Portland — about some tourists trapped in endless freeway loops and one way street routes, never sure how to leave. Eventually they starve to death.

Sunday evening found us having dinner at The Keg (just outside Seattle) with my long time good friend Priscilla and her boyfriend. Steak = my reason for living. It was awesome to see Priscilla again — she looks happy and healthy, which makes me happy (now if only I could find a way for my friends’ good fortunes to make me healthy too!).

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We stayed in a Best Western right by the Space Needle that night. I’ve been to the Space Needle before, when I was a young child. Some sort of family trip — I barely remember seeing the thing, and don’t remember going up it at all. I hope next time I go to Seattle and have more time I can go up it again, and perhaps remember this time.

The next morning I rose late, cutting short my breakfast with my friend Finn. Regardless, we sat and chatted for an hour over coffee, and she bought a copy of my book. It was good to see her again. We shared dog stories.

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In the university district Mom and I stopped for a proper breakfast and to see some shops. Signs proclaiming “Huskies welcome” and “Go Huskies!” dotted storefronts and restaurants. We stopped in a store with enough vintage clothing to cover the nakedness of a small country and then moved onto a witch shop. A proper witch shop, with dead leaves on the floor, spiders and ravens all about, and rightly dim lighting. This witch, who is frankly tired of love and light all sisters with the goddess shops, was quite pleased.

On our way home we passed through Bellingham, where Mom honked in support of a Tea Party rally before realizing who they were. Protesting taxes, or some such. There were signs for small government and tax reform, which was what caused Mom to honk. It wasn’t until we got midway down the line of sign-waving protestors that we saw the “Obama is the antichrist” and “Trust in GOD not government” and a sign that had an acrostic poem about taxes that spelled out T-E-A that we realized who they were. Sneaky buggers.

However, just past the line of TP’ers was a guy holding a sign that said “We buy gold and silver”, and further on down were two young women dressed as mini Statues of Liberty, dancing and holding signs for a local tax shop.

We laughed uproariously. Humor and capitalism win again.

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Oregon is a dangerous place for us — and I’m not talking about dysentery

Posted by Katje on April 15, 2012


Oregon has no state tax. This is like a stranger in a van offering candy to us 14%-tax-beleaguered British Columbians: dangerous, but oh so tempting.

Our trip to Seattle got delayed a bit when we decided to stop in Portland. Mom bought shoes (so what else is new?), we both got books, I picked up a pre-loved copy of Destroy All Humans, and then we may have wandered into the Apple store and I may be writing this blog entry on an iPad.

Wait! Before you write me off as just another spoiled white kid, let me elaborate. The iPad is a business expense so we write it off. We’re not just writers, you see: we’re publishers as well. Katje van Loon (autocorrect changed my name to “Kate” — bad iPad! No cookie) writes books published by The Pack Press, run by Mom, and Jana Pierce-van Loon runs Stars Above, Stars Below Publishing, which puts out Kaimana Wolff’s (ie, Mom’s) novels and poetry. Each house also puts out books by other people and non-profit organizations, and we offer publishing services to those who wish to self-publish.

We’ve nothing against being self-published, but many contests do — and we want to enter those contests. Same deal for many writers’ festivals: your publisher needs to get you in. Not to mention, as a mother-daughter writing team who publishes each other’s books, we have many opportunities to promote each other — which is much easier than promoting oneself tirelessly. Less spammy, too.

Finally, my mother and I trust each other’s judgement in various areas: she’s an accomplished, professional editor, fantastic at in-person social networking, has knowledge of how to do business and understands finances (ie, how to make money), and has years of expertise in several areas, most importantly law.

I have a near instinctual grasp of our modern technology and know how to utilize it to our advantage. I understand Internet social networking and excel at it as much as I fail at face to face. I know InDesign, and I’m good at cover design and book block design.

We’re both dedicated, determined, and we have keen eyes for errors in each other’s works — you’d be amazed at what sneaks past in the first 7 edits/read-throughs. We help each other shoulder the burden of publishing a book on your own — being an indie author is difficult, time-sucking work, and it is not an easy way to make a buck. You’re spending almost every hour of the day working — sometimes for very little return, at least at first.

You want a good, professional book that people will a) take interest in and b) love or at least like? You have to put in the time or money, and it takes a bit.

So, we bought an iPad. It is another tank for our arsenal on the battlefield of the publishing world. We’ve small publishing houses; we need every weapon available.

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Wednesday at my brother’s house

Posted by Katje on April 13, 2012


My brother lives in a boat.

That is, it’s a really long and narrow semi-legal basement suite with two bedrooms, a bathroom that used to be two closets (so, two bathrooms: one with a toilet, sink, and toiletries, and one with a shower), a kitchen that redefines the term “galley kitchen”, a bar, and lots of wood paneling.

I think it’s pretty neat-o, myself.

Upon meeting up with him in Union Square at his workplace, my brother took me to sushi (because he’s awesome, that’s why) and then we walked a lot and met up with his boyfriend, who had just bought forty dinner plates. I asked my brother if they needed forty dinner plates; he said they did not. This seems perfectly reasonable to me.

Read the rest of this entry »

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SyFy Original TV Movies: possibly worse than syphilis

Posted by Katje on April 11, 2012


Last night we drove for far too long and finally staggered into a room at a Hampton Inn & Suites in West Sacramento, CA. At first, there was good TV — The Daily Show and The Colbert Report — but then I turned off the satan-box for some downtime. Mom complained, saying she needed some mindless background chatter to make her mindless paperwork seem bearable. So I turned it on and went to the SyFy channel.

Phantom Racer was on. What ensued was my drunk liveblogging of it on Twitter.

Some choice tweets:

Above is a literal transcription of her lines in that scene.

Oh, yeah: SPOILER ALERT.

At this point I’m thinking YAY THEY WON MOVIE OVER but then car bubbles back to the surface of the lake and they’re running again. They get to a gas station, which they blow up in order to destroy the car. And guess what?

At this point I stopped watching. It was far past my bedtime, I was tired, and I’d stopped giving enough of a fuck.

However, my comment about SyFy movies being worse than syphilis prompted two pretty awesome replies from Randall Nichols. I share them below.

 

Accurate. Sharktopus did cause some burning.

In other news: the Hampton Inn & Suites seems to think that Fox is a good neutral news network to show in the breakfast room, and some staff members found my scathing commentary amusing. Also, for a swanky hotel they have a distinct lack of corkscrews.

 

Today we leave for San Francisco. Onwards to glory!

 

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On the Oregon Trail. No dysentery. Yet. (Picture heavy)

Posted by Katje on April 10, 2012


This past weekend I spent at Spring Mysteries Fest, which I can’t tell you much about because, well, Mysteries. Oath-bound secrecy, etc. Also, this is not my pagan blog, so what I can talk about will be said at Innocence and Immanence sometime this week. Regardless, SMF is at Fort Flagler, an old military base. Pictures during the event are not allowed by any save the sanctioned photographers (though we did get a photo of just our group, which is okay, on Saturday in all our big feast finery + my Creepy Muppet Smile + at least one photobomb by another Canadian), but while I was waiting outside for my mom to pick me up (she was six hours late) I snapped a few shots of the amazing view.

Ft. Flagler is a pretty cool place, but it hasn’t changed much since it was closed down for military use…in 1953. After being shut down for military use it was purchased by the State of Washington as a state park. So this means 1950s bunks (sans ladders, because army boys should be able to just leap up to the top bunk), 1950s bathrooms (TINY), and 1950s hot water heaters (also tiny, and overworked). Despite these small inconveniences (roughing it, eh?), we had a great time (I did have a bottom bunk, which is good because I would not be able to use a top bunk, not even with make-shift nightstand ladder) and great weather.

Even waiting for my mom wasn’t too bad; the Gods provided for me, as They always do. I did fine. Except the sunburn, which you can vaguely see on my hands and face in the three pictures below. Only my hands and face; I was fully covered with clothing. Hot water still kinda hurts though.

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Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick (but only marginally)

Posted by Katje on April 5, 2012


Early morning Coquitlam, B.C. skyline

This is Coquitlam. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My passport was found! My Uncle Neil found it in a collage box in the East Den (ie, the apartment in Coquitlam — my house is the West Den, and mom’s house is the North/Main Den — we name the houses in a way that makes sense to the wolf-dog okay). How it ended up there I can only surmise was my narcotics-and-concussion-addled brain going “OH THIS IS A SAFE PLACE FOR PASSPORTS THAT I’LL NEVER EVER FORGET” and urging me to put it there, where I promptly forgot it.

As it was found later in the afternoon on Wednesday, there came the dilemma of how to get it to me: the caravan is leaving at 6am on Thursday (about an hour from the time I’m writing this post), and the only way for me to get over to Coquitlam and back would make me late, meaning I would need to be driven by someone else. Gods know who.

Enter Boyfriend (Here he comes to SAVE the DAY traladatraladatralada)! He goes to East Den and picks up passport and then drives to ferry, catches passenger ferry, spends three hours showing me funny youtube videos Checkpoint/Zero Punctuation! episodes I’ve missed/doing his KoL turns, and then I take him to the ferry and he goes home.

I choose to share a conversation that occurred between us on the way to the ferry.

Me: Thank you so much for doing this. I really seriously appreciate it.

Him: It was a ridiculous clusterfuck.

Me: Agreed, but at least you got to spend three extra hours with me, which is…better than a poke in the eye with as sharp stick?

Him: ….

Me: Stop hesitating.

Him: How sharp is the stick? And can I sue for temporary blindness? Because if I can then we get money, and I spend longer than three hours with you because you have to nurse me back to health and that is better, because more time.

Me: Did you seriously just say that a poke in the eye with a sharp stick would be better than three hours with me?

Him: Well, situationally….

Me: You cannot apply situational ethics to every situation!

Him: Situational ethics are ALWAYS APPLICABLE.

Me: Just no.

Him: Well, it’s like if someone killed your mom right before she unleashed a virus that could kill everyone in the world.

Me: My mom isn’t science-y; that would never happen.

Him: Say it did.

Me: It wouldn’t; she’d never be able to figure out how to do a humanity-killing virus. She’s more likely do it by accid—oh I see your point.

Him: Right.

Then we reached the ferry terminal, I tried to do a Sith Mind Trick on his ass to leave his big bomber jacket so I could wear it for my trip (and failed), had a nice long good-bye kiss, and I drove home and watched the moon set behind a few clouds.

And that’s all she wrote, folks! I’m off to Spring Mysteries Fest, which I’ll blog about as Morag Spinner @ Innocence and Immanence sometime next week. After SMF it’s road-trip city, so I’ll only be posting as and when I have internet access.

Coming up:

  • Bellica becomes available on CreateSpace sometime next week, hopefully.
  • I bitch about the weather.
  • Blogging about San Francisco/my entire trip in general!
  • I ponder about why I keep on getting hygiene products as Klout perks. Maybe I talk about bathing a lot? Check.
  • Maybe a book review.
  • Some pictures or something.
  • I cry while listening to the LOTR soundtrack.

Posted in Scenes from my life | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Passports and Fear

Posted by Katje on April 3, 2012


Us-passport enhanced

US Passport enhanced (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My passport is missing.

Actually, my passports are missing. I have two, both current: US and Canada.

I only need one to travel (technically*) and I cannot find either of them.

I keep them in a special silver case that protects them from electromagnetic rays and beaming up by aliens and other various nasties. Yes, I love my passports so much I got them their own tinfoil hats.

But the last time I used them was my trip to Orlando in January, and as you may recall when I arrived home I injured my spine. So that entire time period is lost in a fog of concussion and narcotics, and I don’t remember where I put them.

This, of course, wouldn’t be a big deal even a few years ago, back when the US still trusted Canada and I could go across the border on a road trip with nothing more than a driver’s license and the wind in my hair. (And clothes and food, obviously.)

Things are different now. The US no longer trusts its next-door neighbor; terrified of Canadian terrorism, or perhaps liberalism. But fear not, increasingly conservative and fear-locked United States! Canada is following in your footsteps! Not only are we trying to take away the right of choice for uterus bearing people, restricting mobility rights for people who don’t “look their gender”, but our BC Liberals are increasingly cutting back funding for arts, education, and anything else that may help the spread of actual liberalism. In fact, our Liberals are like your Republicans.

There. Do you trust us now? Is it enough that we are trying to be like you? If I hide my tattoos and have normal colored hair and wear a pretty dress and make-up so you’re sure that I’m female, which is apparently important because I’m CAFAB, will you let me through? If I promise not to spread liberalism or fresh ideas or freedom?

Ironically enough, I fled Bush-led USA for Canada in the hopes that the country of my birth was still as liberal as I’d left it. That’s been steadily changing for the past several years now. I’m sitting here and watching the world go down in flames.

*I say technically because when traveling I don’t volunteer the information that I have more than one citizenship, as it can lead to me being sent to fucking Gitmo. I always have both passports on me, however, in case the information does come up. Technically I should be able to travel with one or the other, but in the increasingly fear-based climate of my home countries I find it’s safer to carry both.

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Upon the Leaving of the Boyfriend: it is sad times

Posted by Katje on April 2, 2012


(at the bus stop)

Me: I don’t want you to go. It is sad times when you go.

Him: You’ll be busy! Doing stuff. Won’t even notice I’m gone.

Me: NO. I WILL DO NOTHING BUT WATCH FUTURAMA AND DRINK WHISKEY.

Him: …instead of watching Futurama and drinking vodka?

Me: Totally different. Whiskey is sad drink. Vodka is happy drink.

Him: ……

Me: Ok, I lied. They’re both sad drinks. I AM A SAD PERSON.

Him: *hugs me, and then gets on the bus to leave me for a long sad time*

Image

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Midnight Martini Making and Roast Fucking Up

Posted by Katje on March 29, 2012


My mom gave me a pork roast, on the premise that I could not fuck it up. I am determined to prove her wrong. Even if I have to set the kitchen on fire.

I decide: it’s midnight, time to cook, time to do laundry, time to drink Martinis.

I have never made a martini before. I do not have a martini shaker.

So I made one out of an old honey jar that had housed coffee for a while.

Then Leah filmed me making my redneck/trailer trash-tini. I couldn’t find a shot glass, so I used a tea cup for the vodka, and I mixed raspberry martini mix and lemonade to make it.

There may have been too much vodka and tomorrow I may find that the roast is still in the oven and I never even turned it on.

 

Video forthcoming.

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