What will we do without Battlestar? + R.I.P.

Apparently, we’ll be playing a game. Or at least, a demo.

Nine months is a long time to wait for what is ostensibly the final season in a (for the most part) fantastic series, the first one I’ve watched loyally since the late 80s.* Finding out that the final season wouldn’t begin until January was just the opportunity (or possibly, just the marketing angle) for some folks who are making a flight simulator based on the new series.

Now, I’m usually a strategy game geek (most notably the Civilization series) but this game touches my geeky sensibilities in just such a way that I am tempted to try this one out, as soon as I get a minute. It’s, well, it looks great so far, although I only piddled around in the menus. The design is logical, the navigation is clear, and the visuals true to the BSG aesthetic. The 3-D modeling (using Truespace) looks fantastic in the screen shots. All I can say is there must be a lot of incredibly talented people working on this project.

A demo of Beyond the Red Line is available on all three major OS structures (PC, Mac and Linux) and my only complaint with the demo website is the complete lack of system reqs. My dearest one tried to download it to the laptop which is still running Mac OS 10.3.9, and it wouldn’t run, but works fine on the desktop, which is at 10.4.9.

A review of the game (demo) will follow if I decide to play it in the near future.

AND: Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday at the age of 84. Most know him for his longer works like Slaughterhouse Five, but I was introduced to him in English class with Harrison Bergeron. If you haven’t read HB, I suggest you do. It’s a pretty good illustration of the patriarchy, for one thing, whether or not Mr. Vonnegut intended that.

Requiescat in pace.

*There were three shows then: The Simpsons, ST:TNG and Quantum Leap.**
**Dean Stockwell’s presence in BSG just makes me happy.

Spent the day in black, simply being there, for me…

Spent the day in black, simply being there, for me and for Tiff. I didn’t cry at the funeral. The preacher talked so much about the good place that Hazel is in now, and that the little bit of pain she went through doesn’t even compare to the glory she’s in now. He was so eager, so convinced, that it must be true.

And I know he’s right.

That’s the kind of woman Hazel was. She would know when it was time, and it was time then.

That’s the kind of woman she still is, just more.

She’s the first person whom I have buried whom I don’t think of as ‘gone’. Beth is still ‘gone’, but I feel that changing. Much of my grieving yesterday was for her: for her too-short span, the thread cut from the tapestry even before the weave was clear. I am beginning to see that, even though her pattern isn’t clear, the color of her life enhances mine.

Hazel has made a thousand lives shine.

… and life keeps happening, not asking whether i…

… and life keeps happening, not asking whether i want it or not.

i went home sick yesterday, and slept away the afternoon. I wasn’t surprised when I woke up at 3 a.m. for no apparent reason. But seeing as how I went right back to sleep, I thought nothing of it. That seems to be happening lately, so I just try to take it in stride [or in snore, if you will ;)] and rest until I sleep again.

Last night it was no problem. {must have had enough practice. ;)}

Today, I was still sick — or at least I sounded sick. Kathy talked me into staying home. I didn’t take much persuading, but I did require a little — I felt like I needed to be there. She apparently knew more about me than I did today — not more than 45 minutes after I talked to Kathy, I went back to bed, and slept more.

It was very comforting to curl up with a heating pad and an orange cat and sleep in the sunshine.

And dad called me today: Grandmother Hazel passed away at about 3:00 this morning.

I’m dealing rather well, or I’m not to grieving yet, or I already have; I can’t be sure. I know that I will cry some more, and that is to be expected. I somehow am at peace: I know she feels better now, and I got to tell her “I love you” the first week she was in the hospital. I have done what I needed to do.

and I am at peace today. It’s not what I expected to feel when I heard that news today. I don’t know what to think about it — I just know it feels okay.

today’s sigh brought to you with a large dose of c…

today’s sigh brought to you with a large dose of contentment.

i have had a very long week. [tuesday felt like it should have been friday.] i have worked four times as hard as i normally have to. my great-grandmother is dying. i haven’t done half of what i wanted to accomplish this week. the house is still messy. i went home sick today.

and i am content.

it’s a good thing that feelings are generally inexplicable, because this one certainly is. by all rights, i should be angry, upset, depressed, or something of the like. i keep thinking that i ought to be pouting about something.

i can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

all during this week, when i have needed so much to get through it, a strange phenomenon has occurred: i have gotten everything i needed, and i have seen it and said thank you.

tuesday and wednesday i knew i didn’t need to be by myself — that i would only sink into a black funk if left alone. during the course of those two days, i have seen or talked to nearly everyone i love. i have had two out-of-town friends call me out of the blue — just when i needed it. i had lunch with one of my best girlfriends yesterday. i have seen people on icq that i haven’t talked to in months. kit came over last night after work and helped me make gumbo. i have had unexpected time with several others. and each time i recieved each of these gifts, i saw that it was exactly what i needed at that moment — that something else could have done, but nothing could have done as much good.

i had someone tell me what a wonderful friend i am. one girl showed me how well i’m doing in my life by telling me about hers. whether or not they intended it, i have felt love from each of these people — because something greater than any of us humans alone was using them to help me.

they may never know how wonderful they are, but i am doing my damndest to show them.

life is happening again. my great-grandmother is …

life is happening again. my great-grandmother is in the hospital again, and it doesn’t look good. she is 93 years old, and she hasn’t really been enjoying life the last few months. i have the feeling she is getting ready to go. it may be time.

there will still be mourning to do, even if it is time, and it is better for her.

i am more concerned for my mom than anyone else right now. she just lost her mother in february, and she is very close to grandma hazel. it will be hard on her, and hard on granddaddy charles. i am sad, but losing great-grandparents at my age is expected. i only have grandma hazel and gramma harris who are still living

losing a parent or a grandparent is a different matter.

and life goes on… life constantly surprises m…

and life goes on…

life constantly surprises me with its intensity and perseverance. amidst the turmoil and terror of yesterday’s events, the sun still shone here; the wind blew, babies laughed, and joy found a way to co-exist with fear in a human heart. I am tired, but not drained; in all ways possible. I have done more living in the last week than in the month before, and I am rejuvenated. I have seen, heard, spoken, listened, felt more than I would have dreamed. I have truly lived.

and I still remember those events in my life that have taught me to live, to value the preciousness of life. beth, i miss you. your life was ripped from you, and you were so young, so young. all my best lessons have come from you, and your death still reminds me, even after almost four years, that I shouldn’t waste a minute fretting.

the cost is high, but i’m learning. i’m learning.

***

small note: I’m going to post more about coronation weekend, but it will be with the original post. so look there.

sweet Jesus… it’s not just the World Trade Cente…

sweet Jesus… it’s not just the World Trade Center.

pray. everyone. with all your being. pray.