Slight Stumble

So I did achieve two days of research and writing after my last post.  It fell apart last night, not out of desire, but out of having too much shit to do and needing to go to bed early.  I failed on the early bedtime miserably, but had I stayed up to write anything I would have failed even more dramatically.

What was I doing, you ask?  (Ok, maybe you don't ask, but as this is my blog, I shall tell you whether you wish to hear it or not)  Because we celebrate both Xmas Eve and Xmas Day (I don't go in for the whole Christ bit, sorry), I needed to get some presents sorted.  This meant cooking, and I didn't have a chance to get into the kitchen until after supper last night.  As Adam and Ms. Luther and her husband will tell you, suppers at my house are a long, involved, and drawn-out affair.  So about 8pm I finally was able to start making reheatable lasangas and other casseroles for my grandparents.  Both my paternal grandmother and my maternal grandparents are in the mid-to-late eighties, so they neither need nor want much of anything.  However, they do still need to eat, and age makes it difficult for them to cook.  So I make nice tasty reheatable foods for them on a semi-regular basis.  That took me up until about 10pm, when I then had to take a shower.

As for why I had to get to sleep early?  Well, I had to get up early.  If you don't already know why I have to get up at 5:30am on Tuesdays, check this out.  Faith is my personal favorite (she's mine! and there was an outbreak of kennel cough that week), but Noah was also fantastic.  And Abby.  But I like pitbulls :)

New Goal

So I have a new goal for myself. If I want to be a writer (which is of course the question, but at least it's something I'm good at), I need to write. Daily. So that is my new goal. It may be here on my blog (presuming it does involve actual thought and/or substance), a newsy email to friends, or in one of my journals--you know, the kind with pen and paper--that I have to jot down ideas that float into my head.

Note-taking for my historical fiction novel doesn't count. If that counted I'd not write any of my own thoughts, and would be only barely researching. The research would be so much nicer if they actually knew anything about my guy's childhood. There's plenty written about the last 2-10 years of his life, but nothing prior to that. And most of the last bit of his life is speculation. Yay, speculation! But then, that's why it's such a delicious choice for a historical fiction. I hope to be fairly heavy on the history (we'll see, and I want it non-dry). The last historical fiction I read was heavy on the sex, violence, and easy-outs on difficult character arcs (as in the author killed off everyone who was in the way of the ending he wanted), and rather light and/or boring on the history. I do not want to be like that. But then, sex sells. So does violence. Violence can be provided in spades for my character though :)

As for why I don't wish to say what I'm writing about, well, I want to cover myself for the future. If you're curious, ask me and I will most likely share. Tisn't a state secret, just don't want it on the 'net.

So yes, digressions aside, I'm making a public contract with myself to write daily. Acceptable approaches for daily writing include writing down first lines for a story (or other parts), or writing an essay or part of an essay. Character studies count. Notes for ideas of a world or plot outline for fiction counts. Short stories count (though perhaps only to a point, as I have a series of those in my head, but I need to get some other stuff written). And though I say blog posts can count, I would like those to be in addition to my daily writing, not a cop-out in lieu of writing. Ditto emails and other correspondence (like that holiday card I need to send to Jay and Abby...)

I both thank and blame David Seal for this.  And really, that may be a story in-and-of itself... Remember ladies and gents, it isn't slander or libel if it's true.  And that goes for both parties.

Winter Wonderland

And of course, no winter wonderland would be complete without idiot drivers who think that 4x4 means they can drive fast on ultra-packed snow. But I digress.

It's less pretty here than it was late Sunday night and yesterday morning, but it's still kinda pretty, and there's more snow predicted for tomorrow. The puppy is having fun in the snow, though she seemed to have more fun last year. But if it snows again tomorrow, it'll be deeper and she'll probably enjoy that more. For some reason she really likes having to work to get through it. I think it might be the pit bull and rottweiler in her--she liked using her chest to push through it. And to be fair, we like it when she has to work harder, since it means she burns off more energy.







And from last year's snowfall, possibly's Faith's first snow. Certainly her first winter with us.

Safe and Sound Part II

So Adam has safely made it back to the UK. I'm glad his journey back home was easier than the one to get here, but I still miss him terribly. But we did have a good time while he was here, and lots of talks about the future, our finances, and so forth. We still don't have much of anything set in stone, but the current hope is that I will be heading out there in a couple of months.

I'm not really sure there's much other news, other than I saw a friend of my from elementary and high school a couple of days after Thanksgiving. Adam and I were walking Faith, and making loud, pointed comments to people who let their dogs shit in public and not clean it up (that's a $180 fine here in Lane County, Oregon, by the way), and we ended up in the new park that's been put in near my house. I saw a guy with a dog--who wasn't pooing--and he looked really familiar; it turned out it was my friend Shelley's father. So I talked to him for a bit, as well as her sister Kelsey (who has a cute guy), and then Rhonda (Shelley's mom) came over because Dale wasn't interested in watching his grandson (!!!) swing for the first time. Turns out that not only is Shelley married, which I did know, but she had a baby boy back in July. And she's already lost all her baby weight. Always had a freakishly high metabolism, though. She's also eating meat again, which I was somewhat glad to hear. Not for any reason other than it's probably healthier for her and the baby right now.

In general, it was really great to see her. We really haven't seen each other or spoken since we graduated from high school, so it was nice to reconnect--and to find out that she didn't go to our 10 year reunion either (nor did another friend, who was past her due date at that point). Hopefully we'll all end up at our 20 year reunion. But we've got 10 more years for that, so no point in worrying about it right now :)

Safe and Sound...ish...

The boy has made it here, and we are currently in bed. I'm bored, he's snoring. He's had a 40 hour day or something ungodly (he got up Thursday, went to work, home, no nap, and left for the airport about midnight UK time). It was probably 6pm PST before he fell asleep, so that's about 40 hours.

So for supper I ended up walking over to McDonalds, which is about 20 feet from the hotel. Then I walked back to my car, because the lobby was closed due to construction (I think lack of staff, actually...there was nothing going on in there) and you can't do a drive-thru (the proper spelling looks wrong there) on foot--particularly as I almost got hit by 2 cars trying.

In short, I drove about 1/4 mile to get food from a place less than 50 feet away. And for shitty food.

Speaking of, I actually feel slightly ill. But then that's why I only eat McDonalds once every 3 years or so--seriously, the last time I had Micky D's I was living in England. Think I had one there...if not, I really don't know when last I ate there.

Hehehehehe Fire!

So I can't really think of anything creative to say tonight, especially as 5 November is past where it matters. But nevertheless, Happy Bonfire Night!

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I can think of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

An email I just sent

My parents are in Italy for this--what is now historic--election. I sent this email to them, which describes my feelings toward this election, as well as the outcomes as their were being broadcast (and posted online). For those who are somehow in doubt, I am so far left that it makes some liberals (and certainly anyone who's too patsy to be a "liberal" and is instead a "progressive") cry. If this means anything to you, I voted for Dennis Kucinich in the 2004 primaries, and had I the chance, BIll Richardson in the 2008 primaries; because he dropped out, I voted for Hillary, then for President-Elect Barack Obama. Someday I'd like to say that I crossed party-lines to vote for the best candidate, but that's not this year. It's time for something different (not a change, necessarily), and dammit, I voted for that. Though my initial Senate candidate is under 5 feet tall and has a hook hand (yeah, I voted for a quasi-pirate who could hook other Senators in the crotch--sue me).

In other news, I did include some info on the various Oregon/Lane County ballot measures. So ignore them if you wish. Also, Joe Biden got re-elected to the Senate. By a lot. Which cracks my shit up, but I suppose is immaterial.

They just announced that there will (most likely) be 17 women in the Senate. That makes me happy. But I'm sad, because there should be more. 50? Not necessarily. But 17 is less that 25% of the Senate, and that stinks. Even so, tis yet another step forward.


MY EMAIL:

After most of half of a duck breast, and all but one remaining Riedel glass (so about a 1/5 of a bottle) of Masterpiece Red Willie, I can fairly confidently say that Barack Obama is the next president of the United States. Jeff Merkley is beating Gordon Smith, and Kitty Piercy is beating Jim Torey 51% to 49%.

They've just called Virginia for Obama as well. It's gonna be a landslide, unless the electoral college decides to vote differently. And if they do, I'm pretty sure they will be assassinated. Not a threat. Just a fact.

Grant Park in Chicago is (obviously) jam packed, waiting for Obama's victory speech. Hopefully he'll wait to speak a bit longer, particularly as they're saying that McCain is going to speak shortly at the Biltmore in Phoenix. And it's wonderful to see all the excited blacks in Grant Park, some in tears (like Jesse Jackson), who are--as the black commentator says--are amazed by the fact that a black man can be president.

It feels really, REALLY good to know that, for the first time since I could vote, the person I voted for will be elected president. They're even now calling him President-Elect Obama.

And they just called Florida for Obama as well. All the big swings are blue. It looks like the Yahoo Political Dashboard was dead on. Arizona did go for McCain, and by 10%. But he's now giving his speech. He knew. You can see it on his face. You can also see how much it hurts him. And part of me feels bad for him. I still believe that if McCain just said what HE believed, and ignored everyone else, he could have possibly won, or at least made a real showing. And his speech is, in places, heartfelt. He also sent his condolances for the loss of Obama's grandmother. He's also asking his supporters to pledge their goodwill to Obama. Which is fairly classy. Whether or not his supporters think he's being honest, I really do.

I'll send a second email with the State/County/City measures when I see them. Though it looks like 57 and 61 (various sentencing bills) are passing. As is Building Permits. But as I said, I shall follow them more closely in a while.

On Indecision 2008 Colbert kept saying "an historic" as did the reporters on KVAL (CBS?). An horse's ass? Hence the email title.

Sarah Palin looks happy as a pig in shit. Bitch.

Montana just elected a democratic governor. W00t.

Good on McCain. He wasn't the best, but he could have been worse. Now to look into the local stuff. Which they are now reporting, so I may just continue this email.

Brownlow is getting 6% tonight. Which isn't much, but still. Piercy is still winning but by less than 1000 (less than 600 or 300, but I can't remember) and Handy is winning with about 600 votes. LCC is probably going to get their bond. As is the city of Eugene road repairs. Measure 57 is passing (increase prison sentences). Measure 61 is now failing. Sorry. I think I screwed that up earlier. And measure 62, which would reallocate lottery funds to public safety, is failing.

So that's the start.

Love, and buy an Italian table a carafe of wine when you're next out to dinner. Seriously--I'll pay for it. Or a German, or a Brit. I can spare $10 or so (or less) to share the goodwill. Or your waiter. I don't care, but please find some way to share this whilst you're over there.

Love,
Katie xxxxx


"Ladies and gentlemen take my advice, pull down your pants and slide on the ice."
~~Dr. Sidney Freedman, M*A*S*H

NOT IN MY EMAIL

Also, Kate Brown is beating forman KEZI anchor (I think, maybe meteorologist) Rick Dancer, for Oregon Secretary of State, and the redistricting measure (not important if you're not in Oregon) is winning, meaning that the redistriction doesn't take effect before terms end. Also, the mayor is less than 300 votes apart for current mayor (and my pick, though I don't live in the city so I can't vote) Kitty Piercy. And some punter named Saxby Chambliss is winning in Georgia. Seriously, what the hell kind of name is that?!

Time Magazine's 50 Best Inventions of 2008

I happen to think that number 5 is awesome (the quote from Yahoo! said "Even if it makes a black hole that destroys the earth, it'll be worth it because it's that cool."), and that number 15 is a hilarious, but great choice. Sadly, I haven't seen it yet, because unemployment means that I don't really have the money to throw at iTunes :(

Here's the full list, starting at #1 and heading to #50.

Time's 50 Best Inventions of 2008

Epic Flail

This is, perhaps, the most epic failure ever caught on tape.  Ever.

Zoofari

I got to pet a hippo on Sunday!!!  Adam's parents gave a donation to the Oregon zoo in my name, and made me a ZooParent to one of the hippos in the zoo.  The biggest part of the ZooParent perks is a pass into an annual event called Zoofari, which allowed me to go behind the scenes in a few different areas of the zoo.  Five areas were open, but Grandma and I only made it to two.  Which was ok, because the first one we went to was the rhino and hippo area.  I got to meet Petey, the black rhino, and I got to pet him (I chose not to feed him a carrot--he was very drooly).  He was endearing, and came right on over when he was called by the zookeeper.

After we left Petey, we went over to meet the hippos, who also came (slowly) when they were called.  Their names are Bubbles and Poppy, and like good hippos, they put their chins up on the bars of the gate, so that we silly humans could pet their chins.  I was both surprised and impressed that we were allowed to touch and feed them.  Hippos are very dangerous, but these guys were well enough trained (and the keeper wouldn't let us pet her girls when they started acting up).  I was surprised at how soft and supple their skin was.  I expected it to be rather bristly.  I declined to feed them though, because one small piece of apple or carrot kinda gets lost in their giant mouths.

So yes, Sunday was a happy day, as I got to pet a hippo and a rhino, and meet a giraffe behind the scenes too (couldn't pet him, though :( ).  And lest Adam feel overshadowed by his parents, he gave me Father Ted on DVD and the complete collection of Star Wars Kinder Hippos, and I've looked at them every day for the three months I've had them.  And I've watched Father Ted as well, toasting Jephcott in spirit.

Requiescat in pace

Paul Newman passed away from cancer at his home in Connecticut on Saturday.  He was one of the greats, both as an actor and as a philanthropist.  Rest in peace, and our thoughts to your family.

Can...not...resist...

I'm sorry, I had to post this.  I could not resist sharing something so important with my loyal readers.  For suspense purposes, I shall only post the link, not the article.

Enjoy!

Article

My way of adding to the political "libel"

I got this as a forward from Laurel, who was on my MA course in Leicester with me. No, people don't randomly email me museum related news...I just get it from my coursemates, which is logical.  I didn't like Sarah Palin anyway, but this really sealed it for me.  And the best part?  It's not actually libel (or slander) if it's true.  I would include the link that came with it, but it seems to have died, so here's the article.

REPUBLICAN VP A MUSEUM FOE
Much of the copious news coverage swirling around Sarah Palin, Republican John McCain's surprise pick for vice president, has focused on the relative inexperience of the freshman governor of Alaska and former mayor of Wasilla, a suburb of less than 10,000 people outside Anchorage. However, the 44-year-old Palin had proven experience with one thing during her brief tenure in government: slashing museum funding. As mayor of Wasilla, Palin quickly moved to cut the budget of the Dorothy G. Page Museum, a city-run institution that teaches Alaskan history and includes exhibits about the Gold Rush and the Iditarod.

According to a 1997 report in the Anchorage Daily News, Palin summarily fired museum director John Cooper (along with many other city officials. Palin, known for injecting her religious beliefs into government, also reportedly pressured town librarian Mary Ellen Baker to ban books, and then tried to fire the woman when she refused). Palin cut $32,000 from the Page Museum's $200,000 budget, provoking the three 15-year employees of the museum, Ann Meyers, Opal Toomey and Esther West, to resign en masse. "They'd rather quit than continue working for a city that doesn't want to preserve its history," the Daily News reported. Wasilla was running a $4 million budget surplus at the time.

An utterly charming movie

I watched a lovely "modern" fairy tale last night entitled Penelope.  I don't really want to give any of it away, but it was charming and sweet, funny and honest.  It stars Christina Ricci and James McAvoy, as well as Catherine O'Hara and Peter Dinklage (I'm sure you'll recognize him if you look him up).

I know this isn't much to go on, but I found it to just be a beautiful movie all the way around.  Funny, sweet, sad at time, but with the lovely happily ever after.  So go watch it.  Cuz I don't want to spoil it.

Funny, yet disconcerting

Although I do think this is funny, I'm also more than a little uncomfortable that they can see--and change--your password. Though I suppose someone somewhere at my financial institution can see my password, that's at a level well above the local branches (I know, I've asked). And no one ever knows your PIN for your debit card, so it can be kept totally secure.

So yes, a bit discomfited, but the story is funny. And also pasted here.

UK banking giant de-pants irate customer over password
By Joel Hruska | Published: August 28, 2008 - 12:30PM CT

Lloyds TSB is the fifth-largest banking group in the UK, but the bank's recent actions prove it still cares about the little guy. When it isn't partnering to sponsor the London Olympics in 2012, or recognizing the contribution of Asians to British society via the Asian Jewel Awards, the banking giant enjoys rooting through customer records and changing passwords it finds offensive, then refusing to change them back.

Steve Jetley of Shrewsbury discovered this firsthand, after he changed his telephone banking password to "Lloyds is pants" ("rubbish" to us American sods on the wrong side of the pond). Upon calling in, Jetley discovered that his "pants" password didn't match what was in the system. Instead, his password had been changed to "no it's not." Initially, this was no big deal.

"I thought it was actually quite a funny response," Jetley told the BBC. "But what really incensed me was when I was told I could not change it back to 'Lloyds is pants' because they said it was not appropriate. I asked if it was 'pants' they didn't like, and would 'Lloyds is rubbish' do? But they didn't think so."

"Barclays is better," didn't meet with approval either, seeing as how Barclays is another, even larger UK bank and a Lloyds competitor. At that point, Jetley was suddenly told that passwords had to be one word. When he offered "censorship" up as an appropriate password, he discovered passwords were required to be just one word, and no more than six letters long (not terribly secure, that). This undoubtedly came as something of a surprise, since his previous password had been accepted by the system, but the staff manager in question was apparently adamant.

Lloyds has since apologized, and told Jetley that the staff member had been let go. The bank also clarified its password policy, stating, "Customers can have any password they choose and it is not our policy to allow staff to change the password without the customer's permission." Lloyds did note that it is "disappointing" that Jetley chose to express his dissatisfaction by changing his password, indicating, perhaps, that he should have expressed his satisfaction by finding a different bank.

There's no word on whether or not Jetley got his "pants" back, but this isn't the first time Lloyds has come under public scrutiny for how it treats its customers. Earlier this year, Lloyds customers mounted a campaign to have certain charges refunded after the bank refused to do so. Oystar, a British group, released a parody of "I Fought the Law," called "I Fought the Lloyds." The song detailed the customers' struggles, and was popular enough to hit number 25 on the UK singles chart. Given these sorts of cases, we'd suggest Lloyds give Jetley back his coveted pants, and perhaps take a Carnegie course or two.

I'm a sucker for stories like these

The full story is here, but just in case it goes away at some point, I'll also paste it in here (it's pretty long, so beware). And bear in mind that I cry every time I see the pilot episodevof Sports Night. Yeah, I'm lame.

Somalia’s runners provide inspiration
By Charles Robinson, Yahoo! Sports
BEIJING

Samia Yusuf Omar headed back to Somalia Sunday, returning to the small two-room house in Mogadishu shared by seven family members. Her mother lives there, selling fruits and vegetables. Her father is buried there, the victimvof a wayward artillery shell that hit their home and also killed Samia’s aunt and uncle.

This is the Olympic story we never heard.

It’s about a girl whose Beijing moment lasted a mere 32 seconds – the slowest 200-meter dash time out of the 46 women who competed in the event. Thirty-two seconds that almost nobody saw but that she carries home with her, swelled with joy and wonderment. Back to a decades-long civil war that has flattened much of her city. Back to an Olympic program with few Olympians and no facilities. Back to meals of flat bread, wheat porridge and tap water.

“I have my pride,” she said through a translator before leaving China. “This is the highest thing any athlete can hope for. It has been a very happy experience for me. I am proud to bring the Somali flag to fly with all of these countries, and to stand with the best athletes in the world.”

There are many life stories that collide in each Olympics – many intriguing tales of glory and tragedy. Beijing delivered the electricity of Usain Bolt and the determination of Michael Phelps. It left hearts heavy with the disappointment of Liu Xiang and the heartachevof Hugh McCutcheon.

But it also gave us Samia Yusuf Omar – one small girl from one chaotic country – and a story that might have gone unnoticed if it hadn’t been for a roaring half-empty stadium.

***

It was Aug. 19, and the tiny girl had crossed over seven lanes to find her starting block in her 200-meter heat. She walked past Jamaica’s Veronica Campbell-Brown – the eventual gold medalist in the event. Samia had read about Campbell-Brown in track and field magazines and once watched her in wonderment on television. As a cameraman panned down the starting blocks, it settled on lane No. 2, on a 17-year old girl with the framevof a Kenyan distance runner. Samia’s biography in the Olympic media system contained almost no information, other than her 5-foot-4, 119-pound frame. There was no mention of her personal best times and nothing on previous track meets. Somalia, it was later explained, has a hard time organizing the records of its athletes.

She looked so odd and out of place among her competitors, with her white headband and a baggy, untucked T-shirt. The legs on her wiry framevwere thin and spindly, and her arms poked out of her sleeves like the twigsvof a sapling. She tugged at the bottom of her shirt and shot an occasional nervous glance at the other runners in her heat. Each had muscles bulging from beneath their skin-tight track suits. Many outweighed Samia by nearly 40 pounds.

After introductions, she knelt into her starting block.

***

The country of Somalia sent two athletes to the Beijing Games – Samia and distance runner Abdi Said Ibrahim, who competed in the men’s 5,000-meter event. Like Samia, Abdi finished last in his event, overmatched by competitors who were groomed for their Olympic moment. Somalia has only loose-knit programs supporting its Olympians, few coaches, and few facilities. With a civil war tearing the city apart since the Somali government’s collapse in 1991, Mogadishu Stadium has become one of the bloodiest pieces of real estate in the city – housing U.N. forces in the early 1990s and now a military compound for insurgents.

That has left the country’s track athletes to train in Coni Stadium, an artillery-pocked structure built in 1958 which has no track, endless divots, and has been overtaken by weeds and plants.

“Sports are not a priority for Somalia,” said Duran Farah, vice president of the Somali Olympic Committee. “There is no money for facilities or training. The war, the security, the difficulties with food and everything – there are just many other internal difficulties to deal with.”

That leaves athletes such as Samia and 18-year old Abdi without the normal comforts and structure enjoyed by almost every other athlete in the Olympic Games. They don’t receive consistent coaching, don’t compete in meets on a regular basis and struggle to find safety in something as simple as going out for a daily run.

When Samia cannot make it to the stadium, she runs in the streets, where she runs into roadblocks of burning tires and refuse set out by insurgents. She is often bullied and threatened by militia or locals who believe that Muslim women should not take part in sports. In hopes of lessening the abuse, she runs in the oppressive heat wearing long sleeves, sweat pants and a head scarf. Even then, she is told her place should be in the home – not participating in sports.

“For some men, nothing is good enough,” Farah said.

Even Abdi faces constant difficulties, passing through military checkpoints where he is shaken down for money. And when he has competed in sanctioned track events, gun-toting insurgents have threatened his life for what they viewed as compliance with the interim government.

“Once, the insurgents were very unhappy,” he said. “When wevwent back home, my friends and I were rounded up and wevwere told if we did it again, wevwould get killed. Some of my friends stopped being in sports. I had many phone calls threatening me, that if I didn’t stop running, Ivwould get killed. Lately, I do not have these problems. I think probably they realized wevjust wanted to be athletes and were not involved with the government.”

But the interim government has not been able to offer support, instead spending its cash and energy arming Ethiopian allies for the fight against insurgents. Other than organizing a meet to compete for Olympic selection – in which the Somali Olympic federation chose whom it believed to be its two best performers – there has been littlevlavished on athletes. While other countries pour millions into the training and perfecting of their Olympic stars, Somalia offers littlevguidance and no doctors, not even a stipend for food.

“The food is not something that is measured and given to us every day,” Samia said. “We eat whatever we can get.”

On the best days, that means getting protein from a small portion of fish, camel or goat meat, and carbohydrates from bananas or citrus fruits growing in local trees. On the worst days – and there are long stretches of those – it means surviving on water and Angera, a flat bread made from a mixture of wheat and barley.

“There is no grocery store,” Abdi said. “We can’t go shopping for whatever we want.”

Hevlaughs at this thought, with a smile that is missing a front tooth.

***

When the gunvwent off in Samia’s 200-meter heat, seven women blasted from their starting blocks, registering as littlevas 16 one-hundredthsvof a second of reaction time. Samia’s start was slow enough that the computer didn’t read it, leaving her reaction time blank on the heat’s statistical printout.

Within seconds, seven competitors were thundering around the curve in Beijing’s Bird’s Nest, struggling to separate themselves from one another. Samia was just entering the curve when her opponents were nearing the finish line. A local television feed had lost her entirely by the time Veronica Campbell-Brown crossed the finish line in a trotting 23.04 seconds.

As the athletes came to a halt and knelt, stretching and sucking deep breaths, a camera moved to ground level. In the background of the picture, a white dot wearing a headband could be seen coming down the stretch.

***

Until this month, Samia had been to two countries outside of her own – Djibouti and Ethiopia. Asked how she will describe Beijing, her eyes get big and she snickers from under a blue and white Olympic baseball cap.

“The stadiums, I never thought something like this existed in the world,” she said. “The buildings in the city, it was all very surprising. It will probably take days to finish all the stories we have to tell.”

Asked about Beijing’s otherworldly Water Cube, she lets out a sigh: “Ahhhhhhh.”

Before she can answer, Abdi cuts her off.

“I didn’t know what it was when I saw it,” he said. “Is it plastic? Is it magic?”

Few buildings are beyond two or three stories tall in Mogadishu, and those still standing are mostly in tatters. Only pictures will be able to describe some of Beijing’s structures, from the ancient architecture of the Forbidden City to the modernity of the Water Cube and the Bird’s Nest.

“The Olympic fire in the stadium, everywhere I am, it is always up there,” Samia said. “It’s like the moon. I look up wherever I go, it is there.”

These are the stories they will relish when they return to Somalia, which they believe has, for one brief moment, united the country’s warring tribes. Farah said he had received calls from countrymen all over the world,vasking how their two athletes were doing and what they had experienced in China. On the morning of Samia’s race, it was just after 5 a.m., and locals from her neighborhood were scrambling to find a television with a broadcast.

“People stayed awake to see it,” Farah said. “The good thing, sports is the one thing which unites all of Somalia.”

That is one of the common threads they share with every athlete at the Games. Just being an Olympian and carrying the country’s flag brings an immense sense of pride to families and neighborhoods which typically know only despair.

A pride that Samia will share with her mother, three brothers and three sisters. A pride that Abdi will carry home to his father, two brothers and two sisters. Like Samia’s father two years ago, Abdi’s mother was killed in the civil war, by a mortar shell that hit the family’s home in 1993.

“We are very proud,” Samia said. “Because of us, the Somali flag is raised among all the other nations’ flags. You can’t imagine how proud wevwere when wevwere marching in the Opening Ceremonies with the flag.

“Despite the difficulties and everything we’ve had with our country, wevfeel great pride in our accomplishment.”

***

As Samia came down the stretch in her 200-meter heat, she realized that the Somalian Olympic federation had chosen to place her in the wrong event. The 200 wasn’t nearly the best event for a middle distance runner. But the federation believed the dash would serve as a “good experience” for her. Now she was coming down the stretch alone, pumping her arms and tilting her head to the side with a look of despair.

Suddenly, the half-empty stadium realized there was still a runner on the track, still pushing to get across the finish line almost eight seconds behind the seven women who had already completed the race. In the last 50 meters, much of the stadium rose to its feet, flooding the track below with cheers of encouragement. A few competitors who had left Samia behind turned and watched it unfold.

As Samia crossed the line in 32.16 seconds, the crowd roared in applause. Bahamian runner Sheniqua Ferguson, the next smallest woman on the track at 5-foot-7 and 130 pounds, looked at the girl crossing the finish and thought to herself, “Wow, she’s tiny.”

“She must love running,” Ferguson said later.

***

Several days later, Samia waved off her Olympic moment as being inspirational. While she was still filled with joy over her chance to compete, and though she knew she had done all she could, part of her seemed embarrassed that the crowd had risen to its feet to help push her across the finish line.

“I was happy the people were cheering and encouraging me,” she said. “But Ivwould have liked to be cheered because Ivwon, not because Ivneeded encouragement. It is something I will work on. I will try my best not to be the last person next time. It was very nice for people to give me that encouragement, but Ivwould prefer the winning cheer.

She shrugged and smiled.

“I knew it was an uphill task.”

And there it was. While the Olympics are often promoted for the fastest and strongest and most agile champions, there is something to be said for the ones who finish out of the limelight. The ones who finish last and leave with their pride.

At their best, the Olympics still signify competition and purity, a love for sport. What represents that better than two athletes who carry their country’s flag into the Games despite their country’s inability to carry them before that moment? What better way to find the best of the Olympic spirit than by looking at those who endure so much that would break it?

“We know that we are different from the other athletes,” Samia said. “But we don’t want to show it. We try our best to look like all the rest. We understand we are not anywhere near the level of the other competitors here. We understand that very, very well. But more than anything else, wevwould like to show the dignity of ourselves and our country.”

She smiles when she says this, sitting a stone’s throw from a Somalian flag that she and her countryman Abdi brought to these Games. They came and went from Beijing largely unnoticed, but may have been the most dignified example these Olympics could offer.

A Coder is Not Me

So I can't design my own templates for this blog, nor really edit the code of the templates provided, because I have limited understanding of HTML. I have more than the average person who's never studied it or read books on varied languages, but it's not very good. Additionally, the only programming language I know anything about is HTML (I forgot what UNIX I knew), and Blogger's code is a weird amalgamation of HTML, CSS, and I think they said a third one. Since it's designed to work with their whole "drag and drop" setup, it's great, but not if you actually want to muck with the code, but only understand it in the basic webpage layout.

So I guess this is once again a cry for help. If someone who reads this and can understand the code is willing to make a few changes for me (they should be pretty small--centering the title, justifying the posts both left and right, and moving a freaking line so that there's more delineation between the posts) I'd be so thrilled. I can probably make any other changes I want, such as colours without mucking it up too badly, but I can't determine those changes.

I think the person whom I really want to help me knows who he is. Although that said, I can imagine at least 2 people who think I mean them.

Righty-o. I'm done futzing with this today. Onwards and avast. Or something.

Cool, but not bloody fair

So I'm thrilled that Dead Gentlemen are doing so well and their distribution deal finally went through. This means that more money can be made, and the new Gamers movie goes through Netflix, amongst other rental agencies, but I can't deny a small amount of irritation. Why? Because of this:



I sold my stake and ownership in the company shortly before moving to England, in part because I wasn't contributing huge amounts to the company and didn't want to feel as though I was leeching anymore. I also sold because I needed the money to eat whilst in England. Granted, it wasn't much, and not what the share was techinally worth, but what was I going to do with that many tee-shirts? Besides, I still support the company, and I got more than I paid in regardless. So I'm very glad that there's a very long wait on Netflix, but I'm also irked, that I also have to wait.

At some point I'll buy the flick. Here's hoping I still get an employee discount. Did we even have those?



EDIT: Sorry, you'll have to click on the image to see it more clearly. Right now, that seems to be about as big as I can make it.

Another test post

So since I still need to figure out how aspects of blogger works, here is a second (test) post.

And a note that www.katieweidmann.com will still be active until mid-September, though all new posts will be going up here.

New Home

So after a lot of thought, I've decided to abandon my domain and move over here.  Admittedly, I'm not a huge fan of blogger, but it's free.  Additionally, I can't seem to get ahold of the person who set up WordPress for me, so I can't get it the updates that it so desperately needs (something I might be able to do if I had the password for the MySQL database...).  So I'll make the switch.  My domain wasn't hugely expensive, but I'm just tired of paying for stuff on the web that I can get for free (though I will continue to pay for my primary email address(es)).  

What this does mean is that all my posts from www.katieweidmann.com are lost.  Well, not lost, because I spent a lot of time backing them up, but because it's an old version, I couldn't actually export it.  So I have the posts, but I wasn't willing to do the work to get the comments on those posts.  I might still try to snag some of the comments before it all dies in September, but if not, those will be gone forever.  But life goes on.  And in time I might post the archives, but I have to do them by hand, so don't hold your breath.

Yup...here we are...

Test Post

Test post to see if I can't transfer stuff over.