Thought we'd have net at home yesterday, turns out the tech will come Monday morning instead. Two days without connectivity. We can do this.

I am eating the breakfast I was fantasizing about last night: omelet on lavash. Mmmf.

Last night we watched the second Hunger Games movie. Roberta and I are thoroughly sucked in and eager to see the new movie and we don't want to see the trailer, hear any spoilers from the book, or otherwise know anything about it. My kid is eager to tell us all about the politics of the movies vs. the books and what her Tumblr peeps are disappointed about— but has neither read the books nor seen the movies. I am resolved not to listen to a word until I've formed my own opinion.

We are getting ready for the house painters. Everything smaller than a breadbox must go to the basement. Soon we will be blue and yellow and green and...

It's times like these I wish I had something interesting to say. 

It's just not to be. So here I sit, sipping tea, waiting for my roast chicken to finish roasting and making mental lists of the things I must do tomorrow. 

Life on the edge, yeah, I live it.  

I'm using my voice to text thing so I have no idea if this is working. I just went outside with no pants on because I realized the door had blown open in the wind at the exact same time that Alistair did and out he ran, and then out I ran after him.

The reason I had no pants on is because I have a cold and have been sleeping the entire day and having really weird dreams about pigs and wolves and snow, all while roasting to death because the heat kept coming on, because the door was open. I should be glad I hadn't taken my shirt off too. Too. Delete delete back backspace delete.

Hahahahaha. I'm leaving that in there because it's f****** funny.

paragraph

I forgot to mention that Woody Harrelson was in my dream and he was trying to steal my pig. It was a little pig, maybe 20lbs, and I had no idea where it came from and I was trying to figure out what to do with it. Do I feed it? Where will it poop and pee? Do I call Animal Control? No, it's midnight for the entire dream. Do I put it outside? Suddenly it's snowing and then there is a wolf, and then another wolf, so I run out and rescue it. Weird, considering I was about to run out pantless into the cold and windy night to catch my cat before he took off.

Good luck to all NaNo'ers today, be it with creating poems, art, music, or prose! I cannot join you but I'd love to follow your progress and cheer you on, or be a sounding board/motivator if needed. If you've got a profile page, link 'em here or find me there as "karona".

Matt Lichtenwalner , there is a write-in going on at the City View tonight til 2am! Don't you wish we could join in? Nostalgia is killing me right now. I am still feeling that First Day excitement, even after eight years.

Happy writing/creating, everyone!

A companion piece: my Cat Zen Master, e'er night.

We're changing internet providers; the old one should cut off tonight and the new one should start tomorrow at 5-10x speed improvement. They are sending a tech but I have no idea how it will go.

Your recommendations for a sacrifice to ensure a clean hand-off?

Maine nurse refuses to be quarantined, it's a violation of her civil rights.  She *might* be incubating a deadly disease.   On this basis it's largely acceptable to a lot of people to curtail her civil rights.

I haven't heard the NRA make a statement on this and one did not turn up when I did a quick search.

Just pondering.

I'm seeing people who are connected to BDSM communities post on other social networks or in an op-ed in the Globe and Mail about how "that's not how we do what we do" in respect to the (believable) allegations that Jian Ghomeshi has been abusive to sexual partners, perhaps some in a BDSM context, others fairly clearly not at all.

I don't want to write about Ghomeshi (though I do note that my belief of what happened is in parentheses in the previous paragraph); what I find more interesting has been the "community response", noting that Ghomeshi (likely) doesn't follow standards around consent and safety. 

I wonder what fraction of people who practice consensual BDSM are currently, or indeed, have ever been, connected with a "community" of people defined by this behaviour.  There was a comment on a Facebook post that I saw where a fellow basically said, "you know, it was much better when it was hard to join the S/M community, back in the '80s", and my biggest thought was that, in a post-"50 Shades of Grey" world, lots of people probably aren't interested in joining such a "community;" they either want to find people to have consensual rough sex with, or (probably more common) they want to incorporate rough sex into their existing monogamous relationship/marriage.  Which is fine, of course.  Seeing this as a political or community affiliation is a leap, and a leap many won't make.  And really don't have to; it's not as though the knowledge that you can spank people while having sex with them (say) requires joining a group to acquire.

This means that the "safe / sane / consensual" motto (or other formulae) that "organized" kinky folk use could be tangential to the experience of many people who have rough sex as part of their relationships.

Obviously, the analogy to queer folk is salient to me; there was probably a high-water mark for gay organizations in the '90s, when AIDS was still killing hundreds a day in the US, our sex lives were illegal, closets were a little scary to leave, and finding sex or romance partners was something people did face-to-face, rather than electronically.  Nowadays, the politics are not nearly as lively (in many places, the most important issues really are those involving trans folk, and regrettably, many white gay men are happy enjoying their largely restored privilege rather than working for wider equality rights), and it's much more possible for a young person to come out, have sex, acquire partners, and so on without ever going to a meeting of a single group.  Moreover, even during that high-water period, every indicator of privilege (being white, being male, being educated, wealth, living in a city, etc.) meant a disproportionate probability that someone would join "a gay [or LGBT or ...] community group".

I've always been suspicious of "gay people do X".  I find I'm suspicious, now, of "kinksters do X", for similar reasons.