Where have I been?
Still alive. Still in Pittsburgh (just north thereof). Still employed. Still sane. Ish.
Rewind.
Paul was here for a little less than three weeks. We spent time in D.C. (on what was probably the two hottest days of the summer, thus far), and I chased him from museum to museum, we made it to the Lincoln Memorial (although the heat combined with the walk very nearly did the both of us here), and there were probably other things involved.
While in Pittsburgh, we did everything I was meaning to do except for the Segway tours (rain kept interrupting). The weather wasn't as pleasant as I hoped for it to be, and I had to work, but we ran around from place to place, toured the city on an amphibious vehicle, visited museums, got dressed up for a night out on the Gateway Clipper (where Paul ate, I shit you not, a couple pieces of ham on a couple of buns, for his entire meal) and generally had ourselves a good time even when we just stayed in. I discovered how to get from Point A to Point B more readily than I previously knew how, which was useful.
We had a couple of Serious Business Discussions, the results of which were, in retrospect, not terribly surprising and not entirely unsatisfying. Only a little of both.
Since he left, I've started class again (just Microbiology, I wouldn't have been able to maintain the schedule necessary for that course and the Nursing Bridge program, as I would have had to go some 42 hours without sleep) to find that my chronic procrastination is much less of an issue when I only have one class to juggle. In celebration of this particular subject, I've been rereading The Great Influenza, which is a history of the flu pandemic of 1918-19 and with it a history of modern medicine. And it's history written by a journalist, not a historian, which means that it is actually quite readable, informative, and enjoyable. My other reading habits, unfortunately, have quite fallen off, of late.
I've also started (as of last weekend) attending the SCA's local weapons practice, primarily for fencing. Do I see myself actually joining the SCA? Mmm. I honestly don't know, and I kind of doubt it. But I'm tired of being a couch potato, and I want to learn how to do something a little more physically strenuous than, say for instance, Guitar Hero.
This weekend, I had my mother down to visit, and it's really the first time that she HAS been, for any length of time. I get on with her much better when I don't see her constantly and, honestly, when I'm not at home (because when I'm at home, I regress to being 12 years old).
We spent a few hours Friday, once she arrived, at the Carnegie Natural History Museum (forgot a camera when Paul was here, forgot a camera when my mother was here, DAMN but I want pictures of dinosaurs) which she enjoyed immensely. Then we came back to my apartment (I'd just gotten off work a couple hours before she arrived, so I was predictably tired), and I introduced her to the first couple episodes of the Sarah Connor Chronicles since I know that she liked the first two Terminator movies, and I think the first season of the new TV show (now cancelled, predictably, and I haven't seen the second) is more in keeping with the spirit of the original movies than the last two movies have been. Subjected her to YouTube videos. Etc.
Saturday, we finally got moving and headed down to the Regatta Festival. Ate grease-laden food from vendors. Watched speedboats. Visited the tiny (but well done, sneakily hidden enough that I didn't actually know it was there until I was right on top of it) Fort Pitt museum. I could have quite happily grabbed a blanket and a book and crashed out on the lawn for the free concerts, but the intensely diffuse lighting was bothering both of our eyes, and we came home after a few hours.
A few hours of downtime, and then Jay called about fireworks. He suggested the roof of the David L. Lawrence Convention Center. I sort of sucked in a breath and thought about it quite hard for a while, then said, "OK, that sounds great!"
So I basically took my mother to a furry convention (AnthroCon was happening this weekend) because, hey, it's culture, right? I felt a little bit guilty and a little bit mean to have done it -- her eyes went wide and stayed that way for the better part of the night, and we enlisted one of Jay's suited friends to hug her -- but she really enjoyed the fireworks. She doesn't seem the worse for wear today. To be fair, it was my first time at a furry convention, too, but I at least KNOW the fandom. (And 2_gryphon was onstage that night, and damn, I'd have really liked to catch his show. Maybe next year.)
Now my mother has left, and my brain is still tired, but I really need to get dressed for fencing practice. Because if I start slacking immediately, well, I'm going to continue to slack.
That has been the high points of my life, lately. Mostly quiet and nondescript, but cool in spurts.
Rewind.
Paul was here for a little less than three weeks. We spent time in D.C. (on what was probably the two hottest days of the summer, thus far), and I chased him from museum to museum, we made it to the Lincoln Memorial (although the heat combined with the walk very nearly did the both of us here), and there were probably other things involved.
While in Pittsburgh, we did everything I was meaning to do except for the Segway tours (rain kept interrupting). The weather wasn't as pleasant as I hoped for it to be, and I had to work, but we ran around from place to place, toured the city on an amphibious vehicle, visited museums, got dressed up for a night out on the Gateway Clipper (where Paul ate, I shit you not, a couple pieces of ham on a couple of buns, for his entire meal) and generally had ourselves a good time even when we just stayed in. I discovered how to get from Point A to Point B more readily than I previously knew how, which was useful.
We had a couple of Serious Business Discussions, the results of which were, in retrospect, not terribly surprising and not entirely unsatisfying. Only a little of both.
Since he left, I've started class again (just Microbiology, I wouldn't have been able to maintain the schedule necessary for that course and the Nursing Bridge program, as I would have had to go some 42 hours without sleep) to find that my chronic procrastination is much less of an issue when I only have one class to juggle. In celebration of this particular subject, I've been rereading The Great Influenza, which is a history of the flu pandemic of 1918-19 and with it a history of modern medicine. And it's history written by a journalist, not a historian, which means that it is actually quite readable, informative, and enjoyable. My other reading habits, unfortunately, have quite fallen off, of late.
I've also started (as of last weekend) attending the SCA's local weapons practice, primarily for fencing. Do I see myself actually joining the SCA? Mmm. I honestly don't know, and I kind of doubt it. But I'm tired of being a couch potato, and I want to learn how to do something a little more physically strenuous than, say for instance, Guitar Hero.
This weekend, I had my mother down to visit, and it's really the first time that she HAS been, for any length of time. I get on with her much better when I don't see her constantly and, honestly, when I'm not at home (because when I'm at home, I regress to being 12 years old).
We spent a few hours Friday, once she arrived, at the Carnegie Natural History Museum (forgot a camera when Paul was here, forgot a camera when my mother was here, DAMN but I want pictures of dinosaurs) which she enjoyed immensely. Then we came back to my apartment (I'd just gotten off work a couple hours before she arrived, so I was predictably tired), and I introduced her to the first couple episodes of the Sarah Connor Chronicles since I know that she liked the first two Terminator movies, and I think the first season of the new TV show (now cancelled, predictably, and I haven't seen the second) is more in keeping with the spirit of the original movies than the last two movies have been. Subjected her to YouTube videos. Etc.
Saturday, we finally got moving and headed down to the Regatta Festival. Ate grease-laden food from vendors. Watched speedboats. Visited the tiny (but well done, sneakily hidden enough that I didn't actually know it was there until I was right on top of it) Fort Pitt museum. I could have quite happily grabbed a blanket and a book and crashed out on the lawn for the free concerts, but the intensely diffuse lighting was bothering both of our eyes, and we came home after a few hours.
A few hours of downtime, and then Jay called about fireworks. He suggested the roof of the David L. Lawrence Convention Center. I sort of sucked in a breath and thought about it quite hard for a while, then said, "OK, that sounds great!"
So I basically took my mother to a furry convention (AnthroCon was happening this weekend) because, hey, it's culture, right? I felt a little bit guilty and a little bit mean to have done it -- her eyes went wide and stayed that way for the better part of the night, and we enlisted one of Jay's suited friends to hug her -- but she really enjoyed the fireworks. She doesn't seem the worse for wear today. To be fair, it was my first time at a furry convention, too, but I at least KNOW the fandom. (And 2_gryphon was onstage that night, and damn, I'd have really liked to catch his show. Maybe next year.)
Now my mother has left, and my brain is still tired, but I really need to get dressed for fencing practice. Because if I start slacking immediately, well, I'm going to continue to slack.
That has been the high points of my life, lately. Mostly quiet and nondescript, but cool in spurts.