elionwyr: (Default)

Bones paused by his computer. "You probably haven't seen this.." He looked at the screen, then looked at me. "John Floyd passed away. I think you knew him..?"

Yes. And it was my honour.

Floyd was a haunter and a videographer here on the east coast. I probably met him in Chicago somewhere around ten or twelve years ago..but he was one of those people that pop up in unexpected locations, so I can't really pinpoint when or where we actually met. By the time he filmed my first (and only) masquerade entry at Arisia in 2003 or so, we were already friends.

And that's how most of us got to know Floyd..somehow, it was because he was videotaping us at a haunt or a convention. He was infamous for taping something and saying, with complete enthusiasm, "That was great! Do it again!" And you did it, and you didn't mind, because Floyd was always such a positive force.

He would drive from New England to western PA, to our house that was never locked. Sometimes the first inkling I had that he was in town was that I'd stumble into the kitchen in the morning and find him carefully scrubbing my landlady's kitchen floor. He always insisted on doing some sort of housework for her in exchange for the use of an air mattress on the floor of her sewing room.

And he'd film for a night or two at the haunt, and then get back on the road to New England by the end of the weekend. His arrival gave us a bit of new energy, and it was always a little sad when we realized he was already gone for the season.

He would have been a marvelous Grisly. His humour was, in my experience, as sweet and as innocent as one would expect from a Grisly. He pretended to speak Chinese so believably that it took someone else commenting on his joke for me to realize he did not, in fact, know a single word of that language . ([livejournal.com profile] janusaries, you may now point and laugh.)

He was perfectly willing to put on a dress and stand in a window of the Lizzy Borden house, posing with an axe, so that a fellow haunter could draw attention to him from the street so they could tape people's reactions.
His response to a particularly embarrassing belch from me one night was to say, without missing a beat, "I will MARRY you!" One friend has commented to me that half of the laughs he remembers have one common denominator..and that's Floyd.

In January, I was told Floyd had lung cancer. He lived a healthy life, making the diagnosis bitterly unfair. Treatment left him with a high wispy voice, but by April he was starting to poke fun at his condition. He visited a haunt in Salem and posed next to one of the skeletal props, asking which of them looked worse.

And that's pretty typical of Floyd.

It is surreal, and impossible, to believe that I won't see John Floyd at some random event in the near future. He was, simply put, one of the sweetest haunters I've ever known...and I'm pretty sure he's thinking up some ridiculous way of making his presence known from whatever afterlife he's videotaping from right now.

He will be missed.

9/10/60 - 8/12/12

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Obituary here: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/bostonglobe/obituary.aspx?n=john-elton-floyd&pid=159162274&fhid=15463#fbLoggedOut (text after the cut, because stuff on this website isn't always available for free after a certain point) Read more... )
elionwyr: (Default)

When I was in high school, I very much wanted to be on stage crew. I was never comfortable performing on stage, but helping a production happen? That's what held my interest.

That's never changed. And that means that most people have never seen the work I do. At least, not on a conscious level. And so it's not uncommon for people to say to me, "Wow, you do a lot!" when they try to help...because they never thought to consider how all the background work gets done.

I just attended a house concert, for example, that happened because of me..and only one other person in the room knew. That one person was not the performer. And that's ok with me. What is important is that a successful show happened.

I'm not unique in this. Anyone who has worked on a con, or a theatrical show, or an event, knows this feeling of invisibility.

So when I see someone that has to self promote their behind he scenes work, it grates on me. A lot.

If you create a poster for an event and you want to say, hey, I made this, that's fine. I like knowing the face behind the work.

If you do so and say hey, I do good work, you come across as insecure and unprofessional and I am less interested in the event.

If you feel the need to promote yourself over the thing you're promoting? You're doing it wrong.

And if you need so badly to self promote while blocking the promotion of artists or others that for whatever reason don't rate in your book? You're very much doing it wrong.

And now I need to go defriend the person that's inspired this post, because I really am tired of her constant self promotion.

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elionwyr: (Default)

Last night, Bones and I slept in a tent in his patents' backyard. Under a tree and with the lake in the near distance, it was quite lovely. The temperature had dropped off, there was a nice breeze, there were even some unexpected stars after what had been a pretty cloudy afternoon/evening.

As we dozed off, he commented that one of our open window flaps was facing east. "So we're going to get a lot of morning sun," he sighed.

And yes, the gentle approach of dawn awakened me. But what was more intrusive was this odd sort of bird trilling outside and above the tent.

I finally caught a glimpse of the singer: a squirrel, hanging upside down off the tree trunk, flicking his tail and having a rather lot to say.

It wasn't angry squirrel squawking. So we guessed he was saying, "Hey! Hey! Hey you in the tent! Whatcha doing? Huh? Huh? See that sunrise? You're missing it! You're missing it! Got any food? Maybe some nuts? You should get up! Hey! Hey!"

I giggled, and snuggled up next to Bones.

Even without coffee, it was rather a perfect morning.

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elionwyr: (Default)

I've been having problems with my back in the morning, so Bones has been adjusting me.

I trust him. Completely. But I always, I'm, overreact when he adjusts my neck.

I'd hoped this was something that had gone largely unnoticed by others.

...Ha.

This morning, as I was lying on his chiropractor bench and trying to relax, his brother-in-law saw us.

"Uh-oh. Listen for the scream.."

"Shut up! I don't always.. AUGH!"

*sigh*

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elionwyr: (eat them)

Bones' cat caught another chipmunk, was parading through the house with it, and had reached the bedroom.

Max: (muffled by chipmunk) MROW! MROW! MROW! MROW!
Bones: Really? Another chipmunk?
Max: MROW! MROW! MROW! MROW!
Bones: No..no no, NOT in my closet!
Max: MROW! MROW! MROW! MROW!



I opened one eye and saw Max weaving around the room, Bones following close behind.

Max: MROW! MROW! MROW! MROW!

They shuffled out of the room, Bones closing doors to prevent Max from caching the chipmunk in unsanctioned spaces.

I giggled.

It was the oddest Fourth of July parade I've ever seen.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

ETA: Me: I blogged about you and Max.
Bones: Why? Anyone with a cat has had that experience?
Me: ORLY?

I handed him my phone.

Bones: ..Oh. But you need to add what happened next.
Me: ORLY?
Bones: I accidentally closed the bathroom door with Max and his chipmunk inside.
Me: ..Oh.
Bones: By the time I realized it, there was just a blood smear and the chipmunk hindquarters left.
Me: And Max saying, "DUDE! I had no IDEA how long I'd be in there! I could have STARVED!!"
Bones: "..But I saved you some! Just in case!"
elionwyr: (Default)

"Who are you?"

I swallowed my shyness and smiled at the stranger sitting beside me at the campfire. "My name is Dusti."

"I'm sorry. I might have met you before, but I've had four strokes and I don't remember faces sometimes."

"No. No, I don't think we've met before. Hi!"

He gave me his name and a bit of his history. He described how he had to relearn communication - he knew the words but he couldn't say them. "It was like being in a prison."

"My uncle went through that. It must be incredibly frustrating."

"I'm better than I was a few weeks ago. And the VA's been real good to me."

"Have they?"

"Well, I won't go to the local one. Buffalo has a good one.". And as he talked, I thought about all the horror stories I've heard over the years, from my friend Eric who came back from Desert Storm with a sickness the VA refused to take seriously to the ongoing enraging problems [livejournal.com profile] ginmar has documented.

I'm not pro war. Honestly, I'm no longer certain anyone's really at their core heart pro war. But the steady reminder of how this country doesn't do its across-the-board best for those who come back from being in the armed services injured in such a bewildering variety of ways....it should be impossible. It should be the exception. And yet here I was, sitting in the darkness, glad to hear that this one veteran's experience was the apparent exception.

I have no idea how it changes.

I only know that it must.

..And I know how naive that sounds..

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elionwyr: (Default)

"I wish I was there to take care of you," I fretted awhile ago when Bones wasn't feeling so well.

"I'm not very good at being taken care of," he replied.

Oh, pshaw! I thought to myself. And it was then, Gentle Reader, that I forgot a very basic rule...When someone tells a truth about themselves - "I'm bad at relationships," "I'm a slob," "I enjoy licking slugs," - if your response is anything except, "Gotcha!" (and maybe doing a slug check before you tongue kiss that last person)....you are most assuredly doing it wrong.

So I wanted to have a party for Bones that involved him doing as little as possible. I don't know that I said as much, that I was clear in saying, "I want you to not have to be the adult. At all. AT ALL.". Because he is Always The Adult. He's much better at it than I am. And this party was no exception. He ended up taking care of pretty much all the party prep, thinking of food details that, , hadn't crossed my mind. I'd been focused on dinner and dessert and decor... He had veggies and cheese for snacking as WELL as a menu for dinner.

...See? Totally the adult.

And what I realized was that I could either be frustrated - and I was, a bit - or I could think about how pretty damned awesome his take-care-of-it abilities are, that he wants to help, that he isn't the kind of guy that's gonna leave me to clean the kitchen because he's taking clean-up turns when I'm not looking.

That he communicates his love of his friends and of me through acts of service.

Getting mad because I had an AGENDA, dammit, and he thwarted me by being helpful...well, that's kinda silly.

(And he bought me a cheesecake. And I'm easily bribed.)

I learned a lot about him, and about me, and about what's actually important.

And that if we ever work together on a party? It's gonna be friggin' awesome.

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elionwyr: (Default)

Man at the bus: You are *beautiful*.

Me: Thank you. I don't believe you, but thank you

Man: You never hear that before? You're beautiful. Your hair, your eyes..

Me: Thanks.

Man: I bet you have a crazy boyfriend

Me: What? No. Not at all. He's a sweetheart.

Man: As pretty as you are? He should be crazy jealous..

Me: Nope!

*insert awkward silence here*

heh

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elionwyr: (sick)

I was left alone tonight. Which means there was no one here except the cats - who, frankly, didn't care what the hell I was doing after I fed them - to witness my stumbling around the house, coughing..then gagging..then thinking oh I'm gonna be ok...then retching...then coughing even harder...then stumbling into the bathroom and finally indulging in some dry heaving...then thinking oh, I guess I didn't eat anything today (totally forgetting about the burger I wolfed down 4 hours previously)..then finally hurling so hard I pulled muscles in my jaw and lost either that burger or my spleen. Judging by the taste and the texture, it's anyone's guess, really.

Whole thing took about ten minutes and literally involved me stumbling from one room to the next in a shameful melodrama of coughing, spitting, muttering to myself, and...well..doing one helluva impression of a cat with a hairball from hell.

Man, I am SO tired of coughing.

Also? This realization:

I'd apparently be a HORRIBLE snake, if that pathetic attempt to dislocate my jaw was any indication.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

elionwyr: (Default)

Bones: Oh, and you're lucky you told the story of the gypsy cab a week later. I would have kicked your butt had I known what was going on...

Me: You were sleeping! I didn't want to wake you with my fear of being sold on the internet.

Bones: Oh good, thanks for letting me sleep thru your death and dismemberment. That's so sweet of you.

Me: <- thoughtful

Me: But, it was incredibly stupid and I have no idea why I didn't get mugged. Other than that he wasn't that kind of plumber.

Bones: Glad you are alive.

Me: Death by giant squid will be such a better story than death by murder cabbie.

Me: Honey? Would you buy me if I was put up for sale on the internet.

Bones: Buy it Now!!

Me: :)

..Man, I **NEVER** should have watched "Hostel"...

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elionwyr: (Default)

G: Don't let me forget my Spanx are in the trunk.
L: Ok.
Me: *snicker*
G: Oh, shut up!


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elionwyr: (Default)

@mikedooley: Don't worry that some don't seem to notice your refinement, enlightenment, and sashay. They're still learning from you.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

elionwyr: (Default)

* grab a jar of some sort of Indian cooking sauce
* guesstimate a pound of chicken and dethaw
* guesstimate a rice and water amount and throw that into rice cooker
* cut up and cook chicken in wok
* add sauce
* look for other things to add
* add broccoli
* add kudzu (to help fight this lingering cold)
* add some ground flax seed
* allow to simmer to help soften up and flavour the kudzu
* discover that the rice was timed to finish when the chicken did- yay!
* realize I made too much
* wash cooking stuff
* eat












I'm not confident enough to think anyone else should be subjected to my 'let's just add things to the pot' meals, but the experimenting is kinda fun.

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January 2013

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