Kathy's All-Purpose Blog

Back to School

2005-09-03T15:14:00.000-07:00

I really liked school when I was a kid. I was always good at academic stuff, and I guess we always like doing what we're good at. So when back-to-school time approached, I always greeted it with a feeling of excitement. Oh, there was sadness mixed in there, too. The freedom of summer was ending, and I was a kid, not a saint. Still, it was exciting to think of a brand-new school year, with brand-new experiences to have and brand-new stuff to learn.

A big part of it, of course, was shopping for new school clothes. I always liked that. I loved having new things to wear, and planning out which ones I'd wear on which days, and how great I'd look. That last part didn't always work out, but the excitement never went away. And I'd buy new notebooks and pencils and pens and erasers, and promise myself that this year, I'd keep everything looking nice. This year, my school notebook wouldn't look like a disaster area by the time the school year ended. That part never worked out; I've always been hard on things that I use a lot. That never seemed to dim my excitement very much, either.

Finally, there was the anticipation of the last few days, culminating in the First Day of School. I'd put on some of my brand-new clothes, and take up my brand-new school supplies, and go off to see what the brand-new year had in store for me.

Since leaving college, I haven't really done the back-to-school thing. I don't have kids, so for me, back-to-school has become something stores do once a year. Every once in a while, I'd vaguely remember what it was like, and be a little sad because that part of my life is behind me for good.

This year, though, I have back-to-school excitement all over again. It's largely an accident of timing, but it just happens that next Tuesday I start my new job. It's the same time of year I always went back to school (Seattle Public Schools always start the Wednesday after Labor Day), and I'm as excited about this job as I ever was about a new school year. And I've been buying clothes. After nearly ten years of working from home, I need to punch up my work wardrobe a little bit.

True, I've had to order them out of catalogs, because I'm still a size they don't really have in stores. So my newest clothes aren't actually here yet. That hasn't stopped me, though, from planning out what I'm going to wear on the First Day of School--I mean Work. And what I'm going to bring for lunch, and which bag I'm going to carry. Not to mention what I'm going to wear on the second day, and the third day.... I also know I'll wind up laying out my clothes the night before (as if I'd forget what I planned out), then have a hard time falling asleep because I'll be so excited.

Basically, it's just like old times. I'm going Back to School. Wish me luck. :)

On Hospitals

2005-08-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged in a while. Part of that was due to laziness and lack of topic, but part of it was because I spent a good bit of July in the hospital. I was hospitalized with pancreatitis from July 3 through 7. I returned to the emergency room on July 28 with recurring pain, and was treated and released. The following day, July 29, I went in for my (already-scheduled) appointment with the surgeons, who decided that my gall bladder needed to come out right then. Surprise! So I had surgery and spent another two nights in the hospital, coming home on July 31.

Some people don't like hospitals. They see them as places of illness, or places where people come to die. I sympathize, but don't share this viewpoint. I wouldn't go so far as to say I like hospitals, but they serve a purpose. I've always thought of hospitals as places where people come to get better (even though my mom died in one), and recent events aren't likely to change my mind. I've discovered that, when you're sick enough to need them, hospitals are darned useful.

Here are some nice things about hospitals. First, they have the good drugs. Pancratitis is a painful condition, and it was very nice to get the more powerful pain meds. The pain didn't go away--not entirely--but I was all floaty and pretty much didn't care. The second nice thing about hospitals is the whole philosophy of being there. After weeks of trying to put up with this "stomachache" and still do all the things I needed to do, it was a tremendous relief to lie in a hospital bed and know that my only job was to rest and feel better. Other people were going to worry about the rest of it, and I needed that. Another nice thing about hospitals is that food just shows up three times a day. Okay, so most of the time I was there I wasn't actually eating (or drinking) anything, but when I was, it was nice that food just showed up. When you're not feeling too hot, it's easy to forget to eat, or say "I'll eat later," and then don't. And finally, let's not forget those cool beds that adjust at the push of a button. Very nice when you hurt and are trying to find a good position.

There are things about hospitals that are less nice, of course. Your butt hangs out of those stupid gowns, and they wake you up in the middle of the night to take your vital signs. Hospitals do smell funny, the food isn't that great, and the beds are pretty hard (even though they do that cool adjust-y thing). And, when you get to feeling better, there's nothing much to do. And they don't allow cats. I missed my kitty.

Still, you won't catch me bad-mouthing hospitals. When you need one, they're terrific. And I sill think of them as places where people go to get better. I know I did.

Tea and a Facial

2005-06-06T16:56:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, I went up to Victoria, BC. For those of you who haven't been lucky enough to go there, Victoria is a beautiful little city with lots of fun things to do. It's the provincial capital of British Columbia, and the architecture has to be seen to be believed.

I went up on a package deal that included a night at the amazing Empress hotel and a treatment in their spa. I chose the facial. Then I had afternoon tea at the Empress.

I highly recommend all of these things. I had a wonderful, relaxing vacation and my face is all dewey and healthy-looking.

I ate too much, though. Nothing's perfect.

The Weird Thing About My Fridge

2005-05-04T16:10:00.000-07:00

So, here's the weird thing about my fridge. Since I started trying to eat healthier and lose weight, it's a lot fuller than it used to be. This seems counter-intuitive.

There's a couple of reasons for it. For one thing, my pre-diet habits tended to favor "cupboard" foods like cookies, candy, and snack cakes. My cupboards are as full as ever, though, so that's not the whole reason.

The main reason is variety. I think I've realized that if I'm going to stick with this plan, I need lots and lots of options. So if (for example) I decided I'm not in the mood for the pint of strawberries, I can opt for applesauce, or fat-free cottage cheese, or sugar-free chocolate pudding, or something else. In the fridge. Man, it's crowded in there.

Let Me Tell You About My Character: Vorelle

2005-04-15T21:35:00.000-07:00

Vorelle was first created when my friend Tony was getting ready to start a new campaign. It was going to be set in the Forgotten Realms, and everybody was going to need a new character (or at least, a different character from the one we'd been playing in the old campaign). Of course, I didn't make just one new character, because why make one when you can make three?

I do that a lot, actually. I like making new characters, and trying new things, so when asked to create one new character for a new campagin, I'll likely as not show up with a selection for the DM to look at. Of course, the DMs always say, "Play whichever one you want to play," which is no help at all.

Anyway, for this Forgotten Realms campaign, I decided to see what I could do with a Ranger. For inspiration, I turned to the Hero Builder's Guidebook, an excellent D&D reference, and began rolling randomly on their character background tables. I made some interesting rolls. My new Ranger's family turned out to be not very nice people; they came out as both poor and evil, which I interpreted as petty (and not very competent) criminals. I began to get a picture of this character as the only good member of a pretty rotten family, who (perhaps) had taken to wandering the woods in an attempt to escape her home life.

I started to wonder what it must be like for a good character to have to be constantly battling with her family. What would that constant conflict do to a person?

I remembered an interesting thing that happened in Lois McMaster Bujold's book, Shards of Honor. The heroine has been tasked with keeping a secret, and everyone around her (under the impression that they're helping her) is trying to get her to talk about it. She has to watch what she says so closely that she develops a stutter.

I don't know whether that's medically sound or not, but it was a cool literary device and I decided to swipe it for my character. Because of her constant family conflict, she'd be shy and withdrawn, not really comfortable around people. And because she'd had to watch what she said for so long, she'd have a stutter.

I had the basic character, so now I had to name her. The Forgotten Realms sourcebook, while an outstanding refernece in most respects, uses the very annoying "six names" method of conveying naming conventions; instead of actually explaining what the naming convention of particular culture is, they just give you six sample names and call it good. In an earlier post, I discussed why that's no good. I didn't want to use one of the six, but I did want to find something that vaguely fit. Taking a look at the names, I tentatively decided that they sounded vaguely European, sort of French with a bit of German on the side.

Armed with my baby name book (an invaluable resource for any gamer), I set out to create a French-y name. I rejected the "-ette" ending immediately as too obviously French...but the "-elle" ending, I thought, had possibilities. I scanned for a suitable syllable to go on the beginning, and was looking, I think, at "Veronique." "Verelle" was okay, but I decided I liked "Vorelle" better, and I had my name. As made-up names go, I think it's one of my better ones. It isn't a real name, but it sounds like it ought to be, which is (in my opinion) what you should be shooting for in a made-up name.

And, after all that...I didn't use the character in the Forgotten Realms campagin. I opted for a version of the Grace character instead. I kept the single paragraph write-up for Vorelle anyway, because she was an intereting character and I thought I might get the chance to play her someday.

My chance came less than a year later when I joined an online game in the Wold. The game I was joining took place in a "City of Thieves" which was trying to go straight. The players were exchanging e-mails about what kinds of characters to create, and we'd decided that it would be kind of cool to have an "all-stealth" group. A lot of Rogues, sure, but also other kinds of stealthy characters--notably Rangers.

My initial character idea for a Rogue got rejected as too dark for the world (and she's quite a character, too; I'll need to do a Blog entry about her someday). I was poking around looking for ideas for an alternate character, and came across my notes on Vorelle. I thought she might be interesting to play--and the stutter struck me as much more do-able when I was typing my character's words and actions rather than actually trying to speak like that.

I've been playing Vorelle on line for just short of two years now, and I have to say she has surprised me. I knew that giving her that stutter would make her an interesting character, but what I didn't appreciate was how heartbreakingly vulnerable it would make her. Here's somebody who pretty much can't talk, and I continue to be surprised at how often that's actually dangerous. Vorelle is a fun and interesting character, with all kinds of growth possibilities. I'm having fun playing her, and I know she's made an impression on my fellow gamers.

What Happened Thursday

2005-04-03T22:49:00.000-07:00

Wednesday night, or rather very early Thursday morning, I woke up in the night, needing to use the bathroom. That's not unusual for me; I get up three or four times most nights. So I got up, went into the bathroom, sat on the commode, and tinkled. So far, so good.

The next thing I remember is trying to gather my thoughts, which seemed really scattered. They were chasing each other around in my head like little bunnies, but I couldn't get two of them to string themselves together to make anything coherent. Then I realized that I was lying, not in my bed as I'd been assuming, but on a cold tile floor.

Believe it or not, that's not too terribly unusual for me, either. I'm a fainter. I've fainted before and will doubtless do so again. And when I come to, I'm usually very disoriented and confused not to be waking up in bed. What was unusual was that I'd had absolutely no warning signs. No dizziness, no shortness of breath, no sensation that I'm experiencing the world from the end of a very long tunnel--all of which I usually get before I keel over. Nope, one minute I was sitting on the commode and the next minute I was lying on the floor.

My cat was meowing, so I started talking to her to try to reassure her. I realized that I had fetched up against the door and my body was keeping it shut. The cat, who was accustomed to being able to just push her way in, was concerned. Or possibly miffed; it's hard to tell with cats. But while I was talking, I realized that my teeth felt really sharp.

When I felt up to it (which was another minute or so) I got up, and I looked at my teeth in the bathroom mirror. Sure enough, two of them were broken clean off.

By this time I was pretty freaked out, so I went and got the phone. I laid back down on the bed (I didn't want to keel over again) and tried to figure out who to call. 911? The obvious answer, but I needed some hand-holding and the paramedics weren't likely to provide it. Besides, what if I was just being silly? What if it was all nothing? What if I went to the emergency room in my nightie and it turned out to be no big deal? How embarrassing.

I ran through a mental list of people I could call at 2:15 am (because that was the time), and my friend Dave won. Or lost, depending on how you look at it. I called Dave, and he picked up on the second ring. I said "I just fainted with no warning and I broke two teeth and I'm really freaked out," and Dave said, "I'll be right over." This is one of the roughly two million things that makes Dave such a good friend.

I unlocked the door and laid back down, and by the time Dave got there I was thinking something like my old self. Of course I'd have to go to the hospital. I'd fainted and I didn't know why, and that could be serious. Dave came and talked to me for a bit, then waited while I got dressed, then took me to the emergency room and stayed with me until I was discharged around 6 am. Dave rocks.

The ER doctor said that sometimes when the bladder contracts it can trigger a fainting response, and that sometimes people faint with no warning signs beforehand. He agreed with me that it was unusual, and worth looking into, but absent any other evidence it would appear to be just one of those things. So they did lots and lots of tests at the hospital. I had an EKG, and a CAT scan, and blood and urine tests, and a chest X-ray (for reasons I'm still not clear on). And when all the results came back....we still had no idea. Just one of those things, I guess.

By now my face was beginning to hurt. They kept asking me at the hospital what I'd hit my teeth/face/chin on, and I kept explaining that I had no idea. I was unconscious at the time, you see. But they prescribed me Vicodin for the pain, and then Dave drove me to the 24-hour Walgreen's to get the prescription filled.

Back home, I called and left a message with my dentist, whose office was scheduled to open at 8 am. I was by now very, very tired, having had maybe 2 hours' sleep and being on Vicodin besides. But I was sure the dentist's office would call me right back at 8 and I might as well stay up because then I'd know when my appointment was and how long I'd have to sleep.

Eight came and went, and I was really, really sleepy. I took the phone to bed with me, thinking they'd for sure call back any minute and meanwhile it would be lovely to get horizontal. My dentist's receptionist did call me back, full of sympathy and apologies. It seems that last week, when it rained so hard, the office had flooded. They were closed.

She managed to get an appointment for me with another dentist who used to share a practice with my dentist. The trouble was, this other dentist was in Kirkland, and being no-sleep-Vicodin girl, there was no way I should be getting behind the wheel. The other challenge was, the appointment was for 10 am, and it was now 8:50; I had just over an hour to find somebody to drive me on what is usually a 40-minute trip. I called my friend Judith, but she had to get her daughter to kindergarten. I called Dave, but he'd gone to sleep. Thea didn't answer, Beverly doesn't drive, and I knew Rick had an appointment, so I ended up calling a cab (which worked out fine, so none of the people mentioned should feel bad at all).

The dentist fixed my teeth, and did a great job, and I took a cab home and was at last able to sleep.

So now I have bruises on my face, and the gums and nerves where my teeth broke are still really sore. I can't bite (or even put my front teeth together really), and I lisp when I talk. Solid food is not my friend. But I still have some Vicodin left.

So anyway, that is the tale of my Thursday adventure. I'd just as soon not repeat it, but I'm actually pretty optimistic that I won't, after having all those tests at the hospital.

Oh, and judging by the bruise on my chin, it was the tile floor that I hit. There's an actual grout line.

The All-Important Name

2005-03-29T09:32:00.001-08:00

One thing that comes up frequently when roleplaying is what to name your character. Ideally, of course, you have one character that you keep playing for years and years, but most gaming groups just don't work out that way. Groups split and re-form, new DMs take over, new campaign settings are used, and gamers find themselves with new characters needing new names.

The place I like to start when naming a new character is the naming conventions for the world I'll be playing in. I think it really helps the continuity and "world flavor" of a game if everybody names their character using the same rules. Unfortunately, too few settings (both published and home-brew) have anything close to a consistent system for names. Some have no rules at all, and others have adopted the maddening practice of listing a handful of names from a given culture, as if that was all anybody would need. It sets up the absurd scenario where all characters from that culture have the same five names, or it forces players to try to cobble together original names by randomly combining syllables. This is ridiculously unrealistic. Given the list Ann, Jane, Katherine, Mary, and Susan, there's no way a person could possibly come up with "Elizabeth"--yet it is also a common English woman's name.

The travails of naming a character don't end with the naming conventions, though. The next thing to be considered, in my opinion, is your fellow gamers. Your characters will spend many hours together, sitting around the campfire talking of this or that. They will stand by one another through thick and thin. They will become Stalwart Companions, who--among other things--will be able to remember each other's names. Even if they're really, really complicated. You and your fellow players, however, will not be spending days at a time in each others' company (and if you do, you will probably use real names and not character names). Meanwhile, your fellow gamers have jobs and school and mortgages and kids and bills and other activities they're doing with their time. Their mind space is limited, so if you name your character Aelthlindigar son of Erdordigar son of Frokolditheld, you really shouldn't be too surprised when nobody can remember it (or pronounce it). And when gamers can't remember or pronounce your character's name, they will gladly substitute a word they do know (which is how I've come to call one of the other characters in one of my games "Helvetica").

When naming a fantasy character, I like to use "real" names. There are a couple of reasons for this. First is the thing about giving your fellow gamers a break; they're more likey to know and remember a "real" name than a made-up one. The second reason is that, in general, we aren't very good at making up names. Tolkein did it really, really well, but most of us aren't Tolkein and quite frankly suck at it. Real names have to be chosen with care, of course, so they aren't too modern-sounding and don't clash with the flavor of the setting. "No Bobs" is one of the rules in the Hero Builder's Guidebook, and I agree to a point. There's no reason, though, that a fantasy character can't be named Vladimir, or Sebastian, or Frieda.

One last trick I have is to use a nickname. This works well when the setting does have naming conventions, but those conventions lead you to made-up names that are going to be hard to remember. "I'm Kerindri Esveleen Evengold," one of my characters always says in introductions, "but you can call me Skeeter; everybody does." Her real name uses the naming conventions; her nickname ensures that the others at the table will remember what to call her. Rina, whom I've already talked about, is also using a nickname; her full name is Elanorina Pagomel. Another good use for a nickname is as a "placeholder" when you're not sure what your character's real name is. I played a character called "Swiftblade" for years; I had to name her in a hurry and I didn't know what kind of name she'd have. So I went with an "everybody calls me" nickname until I figured it out.

As a summary, here are the characters I'm currently playing (or have played recently), broken down by type of name.

Real Names: Euphemia, Grace, Poppy, Rhonwen, Sigrid, Talullah
Nicknames: Rina, Skeeter, Swiftblade
Made-up Names (yes, I do this occasionally): Tamarinth, Tulehara, Vorelle

Spring Fever

2005-03-24T19:15:00.000-08:00

When I was an exchange student in Sweden, one of the things I learned is that nobody gets spring fever like the Swedes. It's a function, I'm told, of the long, dark winters they have. Sweden is pretty far north, so the sun sets pretty early in the wintertime. And there are a lot of overcast days where it never really gets light at all. So when the days get longer, and the sun comes out, Swedes go a little nutty. They sit our stand out on their teeny-tiny balconies, exposing pale Nordic skin to the warm rays of the spring sunshine (with predictable results). They have a hard time concentrating on work or school. Spring has come, the long winter is over, and it's time to be outside.

I mention all of this because we in the Northwest face similar wintertime conditions. We, too, see a lot of overcast, and days where it never really gets light out. In late December, it can be full-on dark by 4 p.m.--a fact that I have a hard time convincing Californians of. So when spring comes, I think we get similarly distracted. It's hard to focus when the sun is shining after so many months of gloom and darkness. And, although I think we're a little more sensible with our pale Northwest skin, I think our level of spring fever gives Sweden's a run for its money.

And I mention all of that because this week I have spring fever really, really bad. I can't concentrate on work and I have way too much energy. And, since I work from home, I really have nobody but me to keep me in check. And this week I'm not doing such a good job of it.

I know that soon it will pass, and I'll fall into my summertime routine of grumbling because it's too hot out. For now, though, I'm just enjoying the spring.

The Fashion Police

2005-03-16T20:55:00.000-08:00

There really did used to be a Fashion Police. I get a kick out of that.

Back in the Middle Ages, they began passing these things called sumptuary laws. They were passed in response to the growth of the middle class, and especially the growing wealth of the middle class. Nobility and aristocracy back then tended to be land-rich but cash-poor. A typical noble family would own several acres, and the ancestral manse (likely in dire need of repair). They'd have lots of people working for them, but their cash flow would be minimal.

By contrast, middle-class tradesmen and professionals might not own the homes in which they lived, but they had actual money to spend on things like clothes, and furniture, and meals to entertain their friends. The upper-class folks, of course, began to think it just wasn't right that these jumped-up merchants were putting on airs and buying all the trappings of aristocracy--trappings the actual aristocracy could hardly ever afford.

Hence, sumptuary laws, which stated in astonishing detail what you could wear, how you could decorate, and what you could serve your guests, based on your social status. Once the laws were in place, they needed people to enforce them, and so...the Fashion Police.

They weren't called that, of course. But their job was to go through peoples' closets and root out the stuff they weren't supposed to be wearing. Sadly, taste had nothing to do with whether a garment was acceptable, it was a question of how much fabric, and what kind, and how it was decorated.

Still, I get a kick out of the fact that, once upon a time, you truly could get busted by the Fashion Police.

Let Me Tell You About My Character: Poppy

2005-03-07T18:29:00.000-08:00

When I first began to play in the RPGA, there were several different campaigns to choose from, and I wanted to try all of them. One of the more imaginative was Living Arcanis, based on a setting created by Paradigm Concepts. Like Kingdoms of Kalamar, which I wrote about previously, the setting of Arcanis is based in history--in this case, in the declining Roman empire. Politics and intrigue are everywhere in Arcanis. Secret societies abound, and players who sit down at the table with you may be given a "secret mission" to fulfill that may or may not place them in direct opposition to the rest of you.

It's a setting that calls for complex characters (not to mention players mature enough not to take all the double-dealing personally), so I spent some time creating my character for this setting. I decided it would be interesting to create a household spy, somebody who had been trained by one wealthy and powerful family to spy on another. She would be skilled sneaking and spying, of course, but she would also have been trained to be an excellent servant. Then, for whatever reason, that job fell through and she had to take up adventuring for a living.

I decided to make this character a Rogue, and set about building a skill set I thought was appropriate. I thought about an appropriately servant-y sounding name for her, and hit upon the idea of naming her for a flower. I did not (yet) have access to the complete campaign setting, so I didn't know what the naming conventions might be like, but women named for flowers is usually a safe bet. Plus, it sounded so countrified and fresh-off-the-turnip-cart. For my own amusement, I decided to name her after the poppy, an innocuous-looking little flower that can knock you flat on your back if you aren't prepared. It seemed to fit.

Roleplaying Poppy is a fun challenge, because she always comports herself as the perfect servant. Everything is "yes, sir" and "no, Miss" and "just as you say, my lord." Even when she technically dosn't have to be "on," she tends to keep up the facade; she is very cautious. After all, you never know who might be listening.

I don't get to play Poppy very much, though, because the local RPGA group doesn't run Living Arcanis modules very often. It's too bad, because it's an interesting settting and I really like my character. It's hard to say, though, whether she's one of my more successful characters, because I find that her effectiveness kind of depends on being at a table with other players (and a judge) who get her, who understand what kind of character she is. Some players hear "Rogue" and think "aha! somebody who can tumble and backstab and disable traps," and that's really not what Poppy's about. I've had some depressing conversations about it.

Gamer: You don't have ranks in Tumble?

Me: No, see, the whole point of this character is she avoids conflict.

Gamer: But you're a Rogue; you should have ranks in Tumble.

Me: But that's not who this character is. She's a spy.

Gamer: But you could Tumble.

Me: *sigh*

On the other hand, I've had players call Poppy the "best character ever!" Admittedly, that was right after she was able to pull the group out of a particularly nasty situation by looking innocuous, but still it made me smile. I'd like to play Poppy some more, if only I had the time.

The Weight Thing

2005-02-27T09:36:00.000-08:00

For most of my life, I've been what is politely called "heavy." There are a lot of reasons for this, but the main one is that eating--or rather, overeating--has always been my primary coping mechanism and emotional outlet. I eat when I'm stressed, or bored, or upset. When I'm happy I eat to celebrate and when I'm sick I eat for comfort.

I had done little to try to change any of this (and the stuff that I did try is a whole other subject for a whole other Blog entry), but for the most part I really wasn't interested in change. I figured my overeating didn't hurt anybody (except me), and that trying to change it would not succeed and would only make me unhappy (see my previous post about why I'd find that unacceptable).

Then last year, I don't know, something changed. I decided I was tired of it. I was tired of being heavy, and all the inconveniences that go along with it. I was tired of living the way I was living, and ready to change. I can't put my finger on why, or how, or what all went into the decision; I just know I was done living the way I'd been living.

Being a net geek, I first turned to the Web for help, and visited Weight Watchers. I read over their plan, and thought it might be worth a try. They have a web-based version, where I track all of my information on line and don't have to go to meetings. I like that, for reasons that have to do with past attempts to solve the whole weight issue. I am committed to this course of action, but I don't want to spend a lot of time talking about it.

For that same reason, I didn't tell any of my friends or family what I was doing. I guess maybe part of it was fear of failure--it would be so much easier to screw up privately than publicly. Most of it, though, was a sincere desire to go on with my life, which for the most part I like very much. "I don't want my whole life to be about this," is my continual mantra (and "this," of course, means weight loss). I've had experience with people who can't talk about, or think about, or do, anything that isn't related to their diet/health/exerciese/weight program, and Dear Lord, they're boring. I don't want to be one of those people.

I also want to avoid the Food Police, which are the well-meaning friends and relatives who try to "help" you by being royal pains in the you-know-what. I am an adult, and I want to make my own decisions, even if those decisions are bad ones. My friends are pretty cool people, and I knew most of them wouldn't be a problem, but the problem with the Food Police is they're not always readily apparent. You never can tell when a previously cool person will, upon hearing that you're trying to lose weight, morph into some kind of hideous Nag Monster who won't leave you alone.

And, of course, I didn't want to become the Food Police myself. It's very important to me that nobody else should have to change the decisions they get to make as adults just because I have self-control problems. If "I don't want my life to be about this," then I sure as heck don't want to force everybody else's lives to be about this either. That would be obnoxious.

So, for all of those reasons, I haven't really come out and told anybody. "Hey, I'm doing Weight Watchers." Until now. Mind you, having lost humty-hum pounds since last May, I'm pretty sure that particular cat is out of the bag. And I have to say, all my friends have been very cool and non-officious so far, which is why I feel semi-confident coming right out and saying it here.

I just hope the Food Police stay home.

The Thing That Ate My Brain

2005-02-20T07:44:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, my friend Dave (not to be confused with my deceased brother Dave), and his husband, gave me a computer game. It was "Sim City 4," to be precise.

Being a long-time fan of Sim City, I was delighted, and eagerly installed it on my computer. My computer met all the listed system requirements, so it was very disappointing when the program wouldn't run properly. It was just too much for my poor little machine, and the game slowed way, way down to the point where it was unplayable.

I gave the disk to Dave, who has a faster computer, thinking somebody ought to get some use out of this thing. I was pleased and surprised when, earlier this week, Dave gave me a "replacement present" game, which he thought would work better on my system.

"Tropico" does indeed work just fine on my computer, which explains where I've been the last few days. :) Yes, I have been learning how to be "El Presidente" of my own Caribbean island. It's a fun game, and I predict that it will eat quite a bit more of my time over the next week or so. But hey, that's what computer games are for, right?

Anyway, that's where I've been. Now, if you'll excuse me, I hear the islands calling....

Let Me Tell You About My Character: Rina

2005-02-13T12:50:00.000-08:00

In my first "Let Me Tell You About My Character" post, I mentioned (or at least hinted) that I tend to play paladins a lot. It's true, I like paladins. And I also feel that there are certain segments of the gamer community that misunderstand paladins--and because of this, think the class is not worth playing. My character Rina was an attempt to shatter some of those myths.

But before I get into specifics, here is a Paladin Primer for those of you not into gaming. In D&D, paladins are holy warriors, pledged to uphold Good and Honor. They are sworn to abide by a Code of Conduct, and they must be Lawful Good in alignment (alignment is D&D shorthand for a charcter's code of ethics). In short, their behavior and their options are the most limited of any D&D class.

Because of this, a lot of gamers tend to run down the poor paladin as a class. They sneer at the concept of playing a "Dudley Do-Right" who can't steal the jewel-covered idol from the evil cult. They refer to the paladin's alignment as "Lawful Stupid," and gleefully come up with scenarios to bedevil and torment the poor sucker.

But, you know, in reading the rules, I found no requirement that paladins be stupid--or easily duped. I also found no requirement that they be tedious sticks-in-the-mud with no sense of humor and no interest in anything outside of paladin-ing. I have kind of made it my mission to create paladins who don't conform to the normal mold, and who challenge people's assumptions about who and what paladins are.

I don't know quite how I came up with the idea, but there was a point where I realized that Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the TV character, is in many ways a paladin. She fights on the side of Good, and she has a set of rules she has to play by (although she's not always good at following them). Yet at the same time, Buffy is a girly-girl who's interested in clothes, and boys, and all kinds of pop-culture things. I started to think that a Buffy-like paladin might be fun.

I needed a character for the Living Kingdoms of Kalamar campaign, and I decided that my perky, girly, Buffy-like paladin would be a good fit. I've been playing LKoK for almost two years now, and Rina seems to be a hit. I think I've managed to confound more judges with this character than with any of my other characters in other campaigns. Rina completely derailed one module, and startled a judge in another when she marched up to an enemy archer and snatched the bow out of his hand (with a huffy "Ghaa, rude much?"). (The archer was clearly insane, you see, and probably wasn't aware he was hurting people. At least, that was Rina's take.)

Of course, as I've played her, her personality has diverged from the Buffy archetype a bit, but that was to be expected. Rina is actually perkier than Buffy, if that's possible, and a bit better at following the rules. And, due to the strictures of playing in a Living Campaign, she doesn't spend as much time buying clothes or chasing boys as I'd really like. She's a great character, though, and wonderful retort to those numbskulls who think paladins are all about being "Lawful Stupid."

Soapbox: Fun and Happiness

2005-02-08T16:40:00.000-08:00

Back in the 1980s, when the Cold War was still big news, Phil Donahue and Vladimir Pozner hosted a series of discussions between audiences of ordinary citizens from the US and the USSR. I still remember one of the questions a member of the Soviet audience asked the Americans: What do you want for your children?

I remember it not so much for the question, but for the answers--or rather one answer that I felt was conspicuous in its absence. The American parents said they wanted their kids to do well, to get an education, to succeed, etc. At no time did any of the parents say they wanted their kids to be happy.

Maybe they thought it went without saying; I don't know. But given that happiness seems to be in such short supply, I don't actually think it does go without saying. I remember being surprised and a bit bothered by what I saw as a glaring omission.

Years later, I was working for Wizards of the Coast, who had just released this brand-new game called Magic: the Gathering. I was with a group of people manning a booth at the massive ABA tradeshow in LA, and we had some cards out on display, hoping to persuade bookstores to begin carrying the game.

One woman stopped by the booth and asked about the cards. Were they Tarot cards? No, I explained, it was a game, and each card did something different. She asked if they were for predicting things. I replied that, no, they were for a game you could play. She still looked confused.

"But--what's it for?"

I honestly don't remember how I replied, but I do remember what I wanted to reply. It's a game. It's fun. You remember fun? That thing you used to have? I felt so sorry for that lady, for whom games and fun were literally a foreign concept.

Some years later, a friend of mine was taking one of those "organize your life" classes, and one of the first things the participants were asked to do was come up with a "personal mission statement." I wasn't taking the class, but I gave it some thought and realized that I do have a personal misison statement. Or maybe "philosophy" is more apt. Anyway, here it is:

Life should be fun.

That's it--that's my guiding star. I know it sounds selfish and irresponsible, but really it isn't. Because when I say "fun," I mean a very specific kind of fun. I don't further define it in my little mini-mission statement, because it's for me and I know what I mean by it. But here are some clarifications.

Leting other people down isn't fun, so I do what I say I'm going to do and show up to places on time. Paying bills isn't especially fun, but not paying bills is even less fun, so I do it. Housework isn't fun, so I pay somebody else to clean my house. Work is fun--at least, mine is. If yours isn't, maybe it's time for a career change. Helping other people is fun. Playing games is fun. Disneyland is major-mega fun.

Sometimes not-fun things are a necessity (like paying bills), but honestly, I think that too many people burden themselves with too many things that aren't fun. They think "oh, this is good for me," ignoring the very simple truth that something that makes you unhappy is fundamentally bad for you.

We don't place a high enough value in this society on fun and happiness--which, incidentally, interferes with my mission statement. So, shape up, willya? (See that was a joke. Sort of. Because even self-improvement should be fun.)

Recipe: Southern-Style Cornbread

2005-02-06T09:43:00.000-08:00

On Friday nights, I play Shadowrun (it always comes back to gaming, doesn't it?). Anyway, on Friday nights I play Shadowrun with a group of people that includes two guys who were raised in the South. One night we somehow got on the subject of how northern-style cornbread is different from southern-style. Yankees make sweet cornbread, adding sugar or honey, but in the south, cornbread is not sweetened. These guys liked northern-style cornbread well enough, but both of them admitted to missing the unsweetened southern kind.

"I'll be my farm cookbook has a recipe for southern-style cornbread," I thought at the time, and a few days later I checked. Sure enough, there it was, so I planned to make some as a special treat the next time we met at my place.

As it turned out, though, the only kind of white cornmeal I could find was self-rising. It turned out not to be a problem, since the original recipe called for baking soda and salt. All I had to do was eliminate them. The cornbread came out very well, and was pronounced a tremendous success. And I was surprised at how much I liked it. I have quite a sweet tooth, and always assumed I'd end up preferring the northen style, but now I find myself with a decided preference for the unsweetened version from the south.

Anyway, here is the recipe.

Southern-Style Cornbread
(adapted from the Farm Journal's Country Cookbook, copyright 1959, 1972)

2 eggs
2 c. buttermilk
2 c. self-rising white cornmeal

Preheat oven to 450. Grease a square baking pan. Beat eggs, add buttermilk. Beat in cornmeal. Pour into prepared pan and bake at 450 for 20 to 25 minutes. Cut into squares and serve hot.

Let Me Tell You About My Character: Grace

2005-02-03T19:16:00.000-08:00

A good rule to follow among roleplaying gamers is this: whenever somebody starts a converstaion "Let me tell you about my character"--run. Abandon possessions, money, and family members. Flee immediately, or face the mind-numbing horror to come.

That's most gamers, who tend to prose on and on about the stuff their character has and the adventures their character has been on and other things you can't possibly be interested in. I'm going to try to be the exception to that rule, by talking about the origins and inspirations of a character who's been pretty successful in a couple of different games. And by "successful," I don't mean that she's killed a lot of things and garnered a lot of "kewl" gear; I mean she is an interesting character, and players and gamemasters seem to like having her in their games. And if it turns out to be boring...well, I did warn you.

I mentioned in an earlier post that it was my brother who first got me into gaming. My brother and I had different opinions, though, about what made for a really cool character. He kept trying to get me to play a dwarf fighter, feeling (as many did, I'm sure) that dwarf fighters were just the last word in ultimate.

I, however, was a girly-girl in many ways, and my idea of the perfect character had nothing to do with the (then) D&D ideal. My perfect character would be a beautiful young girl who was so sweet and nice that everybody wanted to help her, and she would ride a horse and wear long dresses and all the boys would want to marry her.

There was no room for such a character in D&D at the time.

I learned to cope with it. I played paladins, and clerics, and paladins, and wizards, and more paladins. I enjoyed myself, and gradually learned to put the "girly-girl" part of myself away in a little box whenever I had to game. For a number of reasons, I had a long haitus from roleplaying in the 90s, and only came back into it in 2000, when Wizards of the Coast released the 3rd edition of D&D.

To re-familiarize myself with the game, and to learn the new rules (and because, let's face it, it's fun), I began to create characters--just to see what I could do with this new system. I was delighted to find it so much more flexible. I approached the character-creation exercise from a number of angles, and finally hit upon the idea of asking myself how I would respond to the 17-year-old me. What would I tell somebody who wanted to make what I was now calling the Pretty Pretty Princess character?

To my utter delight, I realized it was now possible. The newly-redesigned Bard class put an emphasis on a high Charisma score, and on an ability to delight an audience. Moreover, the Bard is meant to be a "jack-of-all-trades," somebody who has some abilities in just about every aspect of the game. I quickly formed the idea of a wealthy young woman with indulgent parents, someone who had been allowed to study anything she wanted, but who had unfortunately lacked the discipline to learn to do anything really well.

I wasn't 17 anymore, though, and I knew this character couldn't just flounce through the make-believe world in her long dress and expect everybody to fall neatly into line. She had the potential to be incredibly obnoxious if I didn't give her a playable personality, so I gradually began to build one.

She would be well aware of her faults, I decided, and would laugh about them. She'd be charmingly self-depricating, and make jokes about what a useless creature she was. Once I realized I was drawing on Jane Austen's Emma for inspiration, the whole personality-building process went much more quickly.

When I was done, I had a workable character who would mesh pretty well into most adventuring groups. I've played versions of Grace in a couple of different games now, and I've found that players and GMs like having her at the table. She's a memorable and highly unusual fantasy game character, and I've had a lot of fun playing her.

Because you see, all these years, later, I've still got the girly-girl streak. I did opt for the pink Blog, after all. And I still get a kick out of playing Grace, who is the most beautifulest girl around and rides a horse and wears long dresses and all the boys want to marry her.

Downer: I Miss Dave

2005-01-31T15:37:00.000-08:00

Most of the posts I put on these pages are going to be fairly upbeat and/or interesting. I'm not one to dwell on the Nothingness of Meaninglessness or anything like that. This post is going to be an exception. This is the only warning you're going to get--I wasn't kidding in the title. This is going to be a downer.

My brother Dave was 19 months younger than me. They say that when two kids are less than two years apart in age, they get along pretty well, and that was certainly the case with us. Which isn't to say that we never fought; we were siblings, and we fought often. He did the Annoying Little Brother about as well as I did the Bossy Big Sister. All in all, though, we enjoyed each other's company. We played together often--usually games we made up ourselves. We had a lot of the same friends. I talked before about roleplaying--it was Dave who first got me into it. When Dave first moved out of our parents' house, he and I shared an apartment for awhile. We were buds.

My brother Dave killed himself a year ago today, and I miss him.

Unlike most people faced with the suicide of a relative, I know why he did it, and even understand it to a degree. Dave had Parkinson's Disease; his body was deteriorating before his eyes, and he didn't want to be like that anymore. I get that. I don't think things had gotten nearly that bad yet, but I think he wanted to get it done while he was still physically able to pull the trigger. Dave was like that, and so am I. We were raised to be independent.

I read somewhere that the sibling relationship is unique. You might have family in-jokes and stories in common with your parents, but there is a whole other set of "insider data" shared only among siblings. That was certainly the case with Dave and me. There are things we did, little games we played, jokes we had, and stuff we talked about that was only between the two of us. Now it's just the one of us, and there are times when being the sole conservator of all those precious memories is an unbelievable burden. What if I forget something? It'll be gone forever, that's what. Nobody left to help me remember, nobody left to share it with. I miss Dave.

Why I Roleplay

2005-01-27T14:35:00.000-08:00

One of the things I know I want to use this Blog for is notes having to do with my various roleplaying games. Before I get into that, though, I thought I'd go over what roleplaying is [for the uninitiated] and why I do it [for the initiated who still don't get why grown people would choose to spend their time this way].

Roleplaying is, essentially, pretending. There are a lot of books written and definitions debated about what exactly roleplaying is, but to me it comes down to pretending. Unlike actors, who usually pretend to somebody else's specifications, roleplayers create their own pretend world and characters as they go along. I suppose that's one of the things that makes roleplaying so hard to define sometimes--there are as many styles of roleplaying and types of games as there are people in the world.

There's more to it than just pretending, of course. There's solving puzzles, and overcoming obstacles, and teamwork. There's even a certain amount of accounting that satsfies my inner organization freak. The totality of the experience is difficult to describe to somebody who hasn't played before, and we who roleplay tend to use a lot of "like" statements to describe it. It's like cooperative storytelling. It's like live improvisational radio. It's like wargaming with funny voices. It's like "cowboys and Indians" with rules. The truth--and the reason we have so much trouble describing it--is that roleplaying isn't like anything else. It is an experience unto itself.

So, why do I do it? Like the "what is it?" question, this one has a deceptively simple answer: I do it because it's fun. That's not a very helpful answer, though, so I'll try to go into why I find it fun. It combines writing and acting, which are two of my favorite things--although that in itself is an incomplete picture. I'm sure anyone who evaluated my work would have to conclude that my acting and writing are competent at best--yet I am an excellent roleplayer. Roleplaying also involves teamwork, which I enjoy, especially since my "teammates" tend to be brainy geeks like me. For me, though, I think the element that appeals to me most about roleplaying is the constructive escapism.

"Constructive escapism" is a term I coined about five seconds ago as I was trying to describe what I'm talking about. There is an undeniably escapist element to roleplaying, especially in the Fantasy genre [think Lord of the Rings] where most of it takes place. In these roleplaying worlds, Good and Evil are usually absolute, and knowable. There are none of those pesky gray areas that give us so much trouble in real life; the Evil Necromancer really is evil and there are actually ways to prove it. Moreover, individual actions can and do have a tremendous effect on the world around them; a knight can put on armor and go into battle, knowing that she can affect the outcome, and that the outcome will mean something. How often do we get a chance to do that in real life?

Some argue that this kind of escapism is counter-productive, or at best, futile. They maintain that the world is the way it is, and the thing to do is get used to it and learn to cope. I disagree, because the constructive escapism of fantasy isn't just about avoiding tough realities. The parameters of the fantasy roleplaying world allow players to see moral questions in a new light, to draw unforeseen parallels to real-life people and events, and to examine their own ideas and beliefs from a different perspective. This can lead to some incredible new insights, which is why I view this kind of escapism as constructive.

All of which sounds really intellectual and terribly Important, so I will remind my readership of the first thing I said about why I roleplay: it's fun. It's not just some esoteric philosophical and intellectual exercise for me; it's how I prefer to spend my time. It's what I enjoy. It's my idea of fun.

It's not everyone's idea of fun, though, and most of us who roleplay are well aware of that. I have a theory about hobbies. I think there are two kinds. The first kind of hobby is something that has a certain amount of mass-market appeal. Most people enjoy it to a certain extent; it's just that the hobbyists are really, really into it. Movies are a good example. Most of us like to go to the movies, or at least rent them, but film buffs go to the movies two or three times a week and have extensive film libraries. The second kind of hobby is something that doesn't have a lot of mass-market appeal. Anybody who does it at all is a hobbyist who really enjoys it; there are no dabblers. To those outside the hobby, it may not even look like much fun. Ham radio is like this, and model rocketry--and roleplaying.

So if you're one of the people who, after reading this, still doesn't understand why adults would choose to spend their time this way, don't worry about it. Myself, I don't get the appeal of ham radio.

Hello, This Is Kathy

2005-01-24T15:45:00.000-08:00

My dentist's office just called to remind me of my appointment tomorrow. When the phone rang, I thought "Aha, that's the dentist's office calling to remind me of my appointment tomorrow." (Some may be impressed by my display of mental acuity, but those who know me well already understand that I have no life and things like dental appointments are easier to track).

My phone is not entirely my own, however, because I work from home and there was a chance it was a hotel calling me back. So I opted to use my "professional" phone greeting when I answered. "Hello, this is Kathy," I said in my best professional-phone voice.

I first hit upon "Hello, this is Kathy" when I worked for Alexandria Digital Literature. I was the Content Editor, a position I held for five years, and I worked from home. Since I worked from home, I knew I was going to have to field business-related phone calls at home, and I wanted to sound professional when I answered. I balked at answering the phone "Alexandria Digital Literature," however, and not just because it's a mouthful. What if it was somebody calling me, and not the business? Would they get confused? Would they hang up?

So I decided on "Hello, this is Kathy." It sounds professional (at least, it does the way I say it), and at the same time it reassures people calling me as an individual that, yes, they called the right number. I answered my phone "Hello, this is Kathy" pretty much day and night for the five years I worked for AlexLit, because it's one of those nutty Internet companies and you never can tell whether something is a business call or not. Well, you can't if you don't have Caller ID, which I don't.

After I left AlexLit, I got out of the "Hello, this is Kathy" habit (much to the relief of my friends and family, I'm sure), but now I'm working from home again (for Expedia this time), so I've dusted off the greeting and now use it during business hours.

None of this is apropos to anything, really, except that the dentist's office called while I was setting up my brand-spankin'-new Blog and I thought that "Hello, this is Kathy" would be a good title for a first post.

I have inadvertently stumbled upon a topic, though, which is Working from Home, so let's go with that for a while. It's weird, working from home. I've done it for some years, and honestly I'm to the point now where going to work in an actual office, with other people, would be a pleasant change of pace. I know that's hard to believe, so when I tell people I work from home, and they say, "Oh, you lucky thing" (or words to that effect), I try not to burst their bubble by talking about the downside.

For me, the main downside is the isolation. I'm single and have no roommates, which means I have a nice, quiet work environment. It also means that, unless I plan my week carefully, I can go for literally days without having face-to-face contact with another human being. On top of that, I'm shy and have trouble making new friends, so without the enforced socialization of a shared office, I wind up without a lot of human contact. If I weren't so interested in role-playing games, I'd probably be a creepy recluse by now. As it is, I'm just a creepy RPG geek.

There are other downsides, too, but they're mostly annoyances stemming from the fact that there's no little box to check. By "little box", I'm of course referring to forms and paperwork and routine questionnaires that get asked by banks and credit card companies and the government and various other people to whom we have to prove we're worthy citizens. They ask a simple question like "where do you work?" and all heck breaks loose. I explain, the person on the other end looks in vain for a little box to check, I explain again, they suggest a different little box that is very inaccurate, I explain again, they suggest another little box, and so on. How much human misery, I wonder, can be attributed to little boxes?

There are, of course, nice things about working from home. My car is 10 years old and has 80,000 miles on it. I've driven to Los Angeles and back at least five times (at about 2300 miles per round trip), plus taken other, shorter trips. It's amazing how little mileage you rack up when you don't commute. Or maybe it isn't so amazing; I don't know. I set my own schedule, which allows me to schedule "fun" things pretty much anytime as long as I make up the hours elsewhere. I can buy groceries and stamps in the middle of the day, and when my dentist or my hairdresser asks, "when's a good time for you?" I can say "whenever."

Still, I'm ready to work in an office again. With the economy in the shape it's in, though, I'm glad to take what I can get--which right now means working from home.

Hello, this is Kathy. Welcome to my Blog.