Better Late Than Later.

It actually isn't the scanner that I'm having trouble with. It's the mouse that belongs to the computer with the scanner, which makes it really hard to do anything at all on it. And I didn't want to connect the scanner directly to my laptop, because then I would have yet another batch of clunky, annoying HP software on my hard drive (yicch).

But it turns out that you can't put attachments into your gmail using keystrokes alone. So then it took me another whole day to remember that I brought a thumb drive I could use to transfer files between the scanning computer and my laptop. Without a mouse, it was an exercise in patience. And tabbing. And then I got to edit the scans in MS Paint. But do you care about this? No, you do not care. You are all "Hurry up and get to the comics already!"

Fine. 1 2 3

The third one actually applies to several days following the Third as well. I am a bad example! Do not be like me.

I also updated the previous post to include patchwork and alissa's comics, in case you missed it.

Three on the Third: It Came!

I am not quite done with my comics but I can't wait to show you everyone else's! We had a lot of extra cool stuff happening this month that I can't keep to myself any longer.

Sanguinity warmed up with Two on the Second before drawing Three on the Third! Nice followthrough, Sang!

Recoveringmale fit four comics into one day, and also his comic blog is now sort of syndicated! Hooray Bu!

Upsidedown cat somehow managed to draw her comics while deep-cleaning and re-organizing her room. Clearly, she has superpowers.

Evannichols created an animated comic, and also a comic from Outer Space, and also one that outlines his entire day. It's sort of like a logbook comic!

Ashley made her comics all arty and summery at the same time. Ashley stop being so awesome it's not fairrr.

I also received some blurry cameraphone comics from Alfhild, but you can't really read them, and she promised me a better copy when she can get to a scanner. So I will post them later, and mine sooner. Okay?

EDIT: also! Patchwork and alissa did comics too! They just posted them a little bit later. (Alissa's website is not working right at this moment, much like the computer I'm trying to scan my comics with. Technology! Why must you toy with me so?)

Reminder:

THREE ON THE THIRD
(it's coming)

Boot-boot.

Today I went with Cousin K to see Uncle Lou. "Uncle" is a term of respect for older men in Hawaii, so while Cousin K is my real cousin, Uncle Lou is not my uncle. Uncle Lou is a retired fisherman, a laid-back, loquacious Portagee with a white mustache and a twinkly smile. He used to fish with Cousin K's dad, my real uncle. I first met him a week ago, when he gave me a bottle of aloe vera spray for the sunburns he predicted I would get. I have been vigilant with sunblock and hats, so my burns have been minimal, but the gesture and the ironic charm with which it was given ("There, now don't say no one in Hawaii ever gave you anything") won my heart.

Cousin K has come to look at a lure Uncle Lou is making for him, but also to talk story. They have got past the initial negotiations, and now they are talking about me.

Ask her what her favorite fish is, says Cousin K.

Uncle Lou looks at me, his smile skeptical: What's your favorite fish?

Taape! I grin.

Taape?!

You hear that? Cousin K beams.

The taape is a fish that no local fisherman respects; it is an introduced species that crowds the native fishes, and most locals think its flavor is substandard. It's a pretty fish, though, and easy to catch, and there are plenty of them, and tourists don't care. So my cousins have made the taape the primary target of their bottom fishing business. This means their overall impact on the local fish population is positive. Makes sense to me, but most locals think they're crazy.

Well, that's all I've caught so far, I shrug. That and one triggerfish.

Triggerfish? says Uncle Lou. Everyone will know you're a haole if you call it a triggerfish.

Yeah, they'd never know otherwise, I mumble. The color of my skin gets comments from every fisherman I meet; it's like having a tattoo on my forehead that says NOPE, NOT FROM AROUND HERE. But I don't tan well, and there's enough skin cancer in my family tree that it's not worth the risk just to get slightly less pale.

Not a triggerfish, Uncle Lou continues. Locals call it a humu, or duk-duk, or boot-boot.

Duk-duk I've heard, but boot-boot? says Cousin K.

You pull him up out of the water, what does he say? Uncle Lou asks me. What does he say?

I pause to picture a triggerfish freshly dragged up from the ocean floor, spitting out white goo and gasping audibly... Boot-boot! I answer.

You see? says Uncle Lou. He and Cousin K begin an anecdote-filled debate on which kinds of triggerfish are good to eat, and I inspect the latest batch of lures. They are sparkly and smooth, a variety of shapes and iridescent colors, so pretty that even I want to put them in my mouth. Uncle Lou is a master luremaker, but since he closed his shop downtown he only makes them for friends. His garage workshop is filled with the sweetly chemical smell of heated plastic.

The discussion of triggerfish ends with much skeptical head-shaking on both sides, and we walk back to the truck. Just wait, I'm gonna bring you some fillets, says Cousin K.

Bye Uncle Lou, I say, waving.

Don't catch anymore triggerfish, he calls after me. Catch boot-boot.

My Life Gets Awesomer.

You guys, I can't even bring myself to blog about the last few days because it would just sound like an extended bragging session.

I am so lucky, it's not even fair.

Three on the Third on the Eighth?

I didn't forget! I've just been a little busy. sorry everybody

Comics by me: 1 2 3

Comics by Alfhild: 1 2 3

Links to excellent comics by: evannichols, grrlpup, alissa, upsidedown cat, patchwork, recoveringmale
Tell me if I left anyone out.

The last week has been sort of epic. The tragic part of the epic is that I spent the better part of two days in the crawlspace, and, well... Alissa said I should scan my diagram to show you how much of the ductwork is now insulated. So here it is. The done parts are the scribbly parts.

It took me a very great mental effort to acknowledge that there was no way I was going to finish applying the insulation before leaving for the summer. I kept thinking it couldn't possibly take as long as it was taking. It's not like I was having so much fun I didn't notice the time passing. It could be that negotiating and re-negotiating every movement in such tight quarters multiplies the time involved. Or there could be some kind of weird time-warping field under my house (I wouldn't be surprised, this place is so wacky). Anyway I am not very happy about having this project waiting for me when I come back.

On the other hand, I did get the ducts completely mammal-proofed. There will be no more tiny whiskery visitors popping in through the vents. Gina it is totally safe to come over now. Also I got a constellation of bruises on my hip in the shape of a snowman-style smiley face! How's that for a souvenir.

Anyway the awesome part of the epic week was all the help I got from friends! While I was working in slo-mo under the house, Alfhild was zooming around packing my stuff into boxes and cleaning things and cooking amazing food and completing giant to-do lists like a sparkling whirlwind of AWESOME. Then sanguinity and grrlpup and alissa cleaned up my back yard! Sanguinity wielded Plumbane, Chainsaw of Legend, and lo the plum trees fell before her like mown corn. Grrlpup wasn't even supposed to help and then she totally did anyway, because she is An Unstoppable Force of Kindness. Alissa transformed herself into a Mecha Yardbot and worked furiously for I think about 8 hours, most of them without a break. She is not actually human you know. Then my yard debris and mousey old insulation were transported to the dump by none other than the Mighty Thor himself! (It took two trips. Thor may be mighty, but he is not omnipotent.)

So today there is some time for breathing and for saying goodbyes and for doing laundry. And tomorrow is going to be nonstop craziness while I try to get myself packed and cleaned up and cleared away without actually staying up all night (this is a little joke I have with myself). And then the next morning I fly to Maui! So this is the last blog post in Portland for a while.

Jroontime!

Hey, it's Jroon again! By now you might know that with a new month comes a reminder: the Third is nearly upon us. It's time to locate your favorite pen (or other medium) and prepare to draw three comics about whatever happens to you on Tuesday the Third. If you've been meaning to try this but just haven't got around to it, Jroon is a really good month for trying new things! I wouldn't have named my domain after it otherwise.

So I suppose you're wondering what happened when I went back under my house. (If not, just pretend you are for a sec.) I have now spent a total of at least 10 hours just sealing up the air intake ductwork with metal tape. That's where the mouse problem was, and it was pretty easy to see where they got in. I am very disappointed with whomever installed the original ducts. They went to all the trouble of providing a very spacious, convenient entry point for small mammals, and then forgot the cute little porch light, mailbox, and welcome mat.

The best part about this was that the intake ducts are all on the north side of the house, which is slightly downhill from the other side, and therefore I had a few more inches to maneuver. After finishing up most of the taping on Friday, I was lying there looking out at the driveway through the vent in the foundation and wondering if it would be such a terrible idea just to doze off for a sec, when the phone rang. The phone was on the other end of the crawlspace, so even as I was inching over toward it, I knew I wouldn't catch it in time. But when I finally got there, I found a voicemail notifying me that there was still lots of room on the 8-11pm fireworks sail.

I wasn't planning to go sailing Friday night; I was going to work until dark and then clean up and wearily fall into bed (and then go help out all day Saturday). But... but...! I'll spare you the inner debate; I went and watched the Rose Festival fireworks from the Lady Washington.

It was really, really weird to go directly from breathing through a dust mask in the cramped crawlspace to climbing the Lady's foremast over the Willamette at dusk. Likewise to go from spending hours alone in the dark to being surrounded by people who were ridiculously happy to see me. But the transition was as welcome as it was disorienting.

Even though (as the weekend was booked full with weekendy things) that means I won't actually get around to installing any new insulation until Monday. BOO TO THAT.

Katabasis.

Hey! Do you have any cardboard boxes you don't need? If so, and if you live in my part of the world, I would love to come and get them from you. I need them to pack up a lot of my stuff so I can make room for Mr. and Mrs. Chainsaw.

In other news, yesterday I crawled around under my house and removed all the fiberglass insulation on the heating ducts. And by "on the ducts" I mean mostly just sort of suggestively draped over the ducts, with occasional duct tape decorations for variety. (Remember, kids: duct tape is not effective for long-term heating duct use!)

I was sort of hoping there would be more room to maneuver under there, but no, it is really really tight, even for someone as small as I am. If I had the slightest smidgen of claustrophobia, I couldn't have done it. Even so, it was hard to think clearly when my dust mask fogged up my goggles and glasses; I had to manually override the instinct that said, "Oh, well, must be time to crawl back out now."

The thing that made it all much worse is knowing that I have to get back under there again in order to install the new insulation.

The thing that made it all much better was Scuppers, who helped with extracting and bagging the insulation, stood by for reassurance while I wormed my way under the joists, and dragged me out to enjoy the sunshine when the job was done. This is what we in the industry call a Really Good Friend.

So today is the day I buy supplies and talk to experts (fortunately one of the experts is also a Really Good Friend, and had Excellent Advice and also Discounts to share). It is also the day I groan about having bruises and sore muscles and a scratchy throat from fiberglass dust.

And tomorrow is the day I get back under the house and start taping things to other things. In the process, I hope to permanently seal up any mousey access points, so that my ducts will never again smell of rodent intruders. And that will be such a happy thing.

And as an added bonus, my high efficiency furnace will actually operate at high efficiency! Wooo! It's gonna be so great!

I can't wait until it's over.

Up in the Rig.

This evening (I love how late the sun goes down now!) I set out to rescue my dogwood tree from several years' growth of ivy. I worked my way up through the gnarled branches, tearing out vines as I went, and I thought about how it was trees that taught me how to climb, how to test a foot- or handhold and how to distribute my weight safely. All the instincts I brought to rocks and rigging came from that. And I thought about the cherry tree in my parents' back yard where I used to sit and pretend I was the captain of a pirate ship. Yes, I was the captain, but I still hung out aloft, because that was obviously the coolest place to be. Occasionally there'd be a little wind, just a little, and that made it easier to imagine I was a-rollin' on the main.

The dogwood is not nearly so sturdy, and required a lot more strategic maneuvering. It also kept trying to poke me in the eye. I couldn't decide if it was annoyed by my ruthless twig-breaking, or thought it was being helpful. I did have an awful lot of crud in my eyes (and nose, and hair, and clothing) by the time I was done. I found a bird's nest, as I'd feared, and found it was impossible to remove the ivy without destroying it, as I'd also feared. But it was unoccupied. Whew!

The difference between climbing a tree and going aloft on a tall ship, I decided, is that in a tree you feel safer than you are, and aloft you are safer than you feel. Then I hoisted myself up into the crown and decided I didn't feel all that safe anymore. Being a small person is often very useful; fifteen more pounds, and I would have broken one of those brittle upper branches. But I got the topmost parts of the ivy, and a rare view of a sunset that reminded me of Half Moon Bay.

SPEAKING OF TALL SHIPS... the Hawaiian Chieftain and Lady Washington are scheduled to arrive in Vancouver, WA on the 21st 22nd! They will be there until the 28th, and then in Portland until June 6. If you live here, and if you can swing it, I highly recommend signing up for a battle sail; that's the thing where the two ships sail around and fire cannons at each other, and yes, it is incredibly cool. Act fast, though, because they'll sell out soon. There will also be dockside tours almost every day (free, but remember to bring a little cash for a donation). More info here.

Yes, I'm excited. And no, this is not going to help my getting-lots-of-things-done schedule at all.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot the original point of this post, which was to tell you that my departure date is Jroon 10th. Wooo! (and Eeep!)

Three on the Third: Semi-Monthly Update.

Do you kinda wish Three on the Third happened more often, just so you could read more comics drawn by friends and friends-of-friends? Well, I do. Lucky for me, not one, but two talented Three on the Third participants are embarking on more-than-once-a-month comic endeavors. recoveringmale has revived and re-invented The Mighty Bu, and is now updating twice a week, while upsidedown cat is going to do three journal comics every other day for two weeks! (I might be skeptical about this if she did not already have a track record of completing all kinds of incredibly ambitious projects.)

In other news, I am accumulating ideas for a 3 on the 3rd overview and FAQ. patchwork just asked exactly the kind of question I'm looking for:

Q: I was wondering, are the 3 on the 3rds supposed to always be about things that happened to you? Like, always journal comics? I know there aren't concrete 'rules' to it or anything, but I was just wondering if there are guidelines. It's still in the beginning phases too, so we're all sort of helping define what it's all about!

A: I'm gonna say that if you are not making comics about things that happened to you on the 3rd day of the month, then technically what you are doing is not Three on the Third.*

From the beginning, the intent of Three on the Third has been to tell tiny true stories. Journal comics encourage us to
a) hone our anecdotal delivery skills,
b) pay attention to the small interesting things that happen in our daily lives,
c) make interesting things happen so we'll have something to write about, and
d) record the mundane details of the present for a time when they will no longer be mundane, but remarkable. (Imagine if your grandfather had scribbled out some journal comics when he was your age! Even if they were lousy, they'd still be an absolutely amazing record of life in the past. Now imagine finding your own journal comics, 25 years from now: won't that be awesome?)

Having said that, I am not going to be your Non-Fiction Police Officer. So you throw something in there that didn't happen? Whoop-de-doo. And if you want to harness the momentum of our collective energy to create three totally fictional comics on the 3rd of the month, that is awesome, go for it! I will read and enjoy them, maybe even link to them. Honestly, though? I'd rather read comics about you.

Ultimately, like NaNoWriMo or Hourly Comics, Three on the Third is a self-monitoring project: you do what you want to do, share as much of it as you feel like, and decide for yourself if you're a winner. At some point I hope to set up a way (a "better than Blogger comments" way) for people to submit their own works every month, so that I'm not the gatekeeper.

But if you want a guideline, here it is: Three on the Third = journal comics = stuff that happened to you.

*Note that we've had some great examples of comics about things that should have happened. Of course, dreams, daydreams, wishful thinking, and the like still fall squarely under the category of Journal Comics.

State of the Lindsey.

I know that lately all my posts have been about a) bizarre micro-events or b) COMICS COMICS WOO!!! This is because the rest of my life has been in a state of vagueness: plans still in flux, nothing concluded or settled or accomplished. If it weren't for Three on the Third, my posting record of late would be very very sparse.

But things are starting to move toward resolution, and I'm feeling better about it all at the moment. So here is an update on the more prosaic aspects of my life:

1) My roommate moved out. It was an amicable parting, but it did leave me hunting frantically for someone trustworthy to live in my house and give me money before I leave town in June. This was more stressful than I expected. However, I am happy to report that I will soon be renting most of my house to Mr. and Mrs. Chainsaw. Yes: they are Webcomic Artists. They are moving to Portland from Georgia, partly because they want to go to my church. (This is significant to me. I quit my secure long-term job partly so I could go to my church. My church is pretty amazing.) Also, they have a Good Rental History. Cue giant sigh of relief.

2) I've been temping a couple days a week at a school for painters and drywall tapers. I'm assisting with clerical duties in the admin office. My supervisor is great, and the work isn't bad for temping: lots of data entry, filing, paper-shredding. Nothing all that exciting, but nothing painful either.

2.5) I am disappointed that I didn't earn more money during my time in Portland, though. I've got to get better at this.

3) However, I'm glad I'm not working full-time this month, because I've got a lot of preparations to make for my departure. This evening's project is Filing. I finally got a hanging folder insert for my cheap filing cabinet. This makes all the difference in the world. It is no longer a Huge Pain to file things; it's actually almost kind of fun. I am not going to admit to you how many years' worth of documents are now getting filed, shredded, or recycled, but I will have a lot more space in my room when I'm done.

4) And then I can pack up a lot of my stuff from downstairs and move it into my room.

5) Also: My yard is a jungle and it's eating my house. So I'm working on that.

6) Also: remember the heating duct project? Yeah, there's still that too.

7) So you could say I've got my work cut out for me.

8) However, because of the Chainsaws' arrival date, I will probably not leave right at the beginning of June, which was the original plan. Probably more like a week into June. I should probably get those tickets pretty soon, yeah?

9) Tickets... to Maui! I'm going to Maui! I'm going to work on a boat with my superhero cousins! I'm going to learn to clean fish and drive standard. For real! I feel like it's dead week right now, and I am all wrapped up in papers and tests and sort of can't believe it will ever end, but I have to keep reminding myself that just on the other side of the deadlines is Summer Vacation.

10) And now: back to Filing.

Everyone's a Comedian.

Last night I spent far too much of my dreaming time trying, and utterly failing, to tell a joke I'd made up. I would get it all set in my head and then look for opportunities to tell it, and then hesitate -- how did that go again? -- and miss my chance. Finally I cornered my mom and said, "What do you call a... uh... um, hang on...."

I never did make it all the way to the punch line, which was "A Göring boring Alice." I didn't even realize until I woke up that it's a riff on a family inside joke, so even if it were funny it would only work for a limited audience. But thanks to the tenacity of my brain in clinging to the punch line, I am now able to record this incident for posterity.

The Third Three on the Third!

So check it out! I actually got my comics done on the Third this time. For that, I win a special prize. The prize is not being expected to draw any comics today.

Here are the ones I drew yesterday:

#1 * #2 * #3

And here are everyone else's so far:

recoveringmale * evannichols * sanguinity * patchwork * alissa & upsidedown cat * ah * grrlpup

As usual, this post will be updated until everyone has posted their comics. So give 'em all a gander, and remember: everybody likes comments!

I think this might be my new favorite holiday.

This Post Is Pretty Much About Comics.

Hello! I hope your May Day was spring-y, or fair to laborers, or at least didn't involve any sinking vessels. Unless they were your enemy's.

Now that it's the First (and probably the Second by the time you read this), you know that the Third can't be far behind. And you know what we do on the Third, right?

We draw three comics. About things that happen to us, or things that we make happen, or things that we observe happening, on the Third.

Okay, then. As long as we have that straight. Fortuitously, this month the Third happens to fall on Free Comic Book Day. That should give you something to write about. On Free Comic Book Day, you can walk into any comic book store on Saturday and get a free comic book -- or, in many cases, multiple free comic books. (Note that it does not mean you can walk out with any comic book for free. There will be lots of free ones to choose from, though.) If you live anywhere near me, I highly recommend stopping by Guapo Comics and/or Cosmic Monkey. They both have a good representation of independent and non-superhero comics, and will not act surprised/confused when an ACTUAL GIRL walks in the door.

And while I'm going on about comics, ohmygosh Stumptown!!!!!! If you were designing an event specifically to make Lindsey happy, it just might involve a whole lot of quirky, non-mainstream comic artists under one roof, all eager to talk about and show you their work and give you free samples. I met a bunch of cool people, listened to some fun speakers/interviews, and came home with a giant bag of loot. Most of the loot (business cards, postcards, and minicomics) points toward a body of web-based work as well. So I have a ton of fun things to look at, if I can find the time.

What I would really like to do is highlight some of my favorite finds in some upcoming blog posts. However, the arrival of May also means I have a month left before leaving for Hawaii, and holy cow do I have a lot to get done in that time. So no guarantees.

All I can guarantee is that Saturday is the Third, and therefore a very good day to draw comics.

DJ Fred Plays the Hits!

Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down.... I was well into the grocery store by the time I realized why that song sounded so familiar. Yes, I got rickrolled... by Fred Meyer. I burst out laughing, then looked around to see if anyone else got it. One lady gave me a "please don't pull out a gun" smile, and it occurred to me that maybe most people don't spend as much time on the internet as I do.

By the time I reached the cereal aisle, Billy Joel was pounding out "Piano Man", and I spotted a man singing along to the little boy in his shopping cart. "What is that song?" asked the kid. "That is a very great piece of music," said the man as I walked past. Awww.

Mr. Sparrow vs. the Evil Doppelgangers!

The latest in an ongoing series of Fun Tricks Nature Plays on Lindsey:

A couple of days ago, I noticed a lot of bird crap on the driver's side door of my car, small deposits localized right behind the mirror and smeared around on it. As I was in a hurry to get somewhere, I didn't think much about this odd configuration beyond "Gross, I'd better clean that soon."

While it was being sunny out this weekend, I noticed a sparrow with pretty markings darting around the front yard. It perched on my car's side mirror, so I could see it well from the kitchen. I admired it for a moment before it clicked: that feathered freak has been picking fights with himself in my mirrors.

"Hey, buzz off!" I hollered (or words to that effect), banging on the window. The bird removed himself to the opposite mirror, the one that was heavily smeared with tiny diagonal poop-streaks. (I never realized sparrow combat involved so much excrement.) He did not leave until I tied grocery bags over both mirrors.

The bags have been an effective deterrent, but they also keep all the crap from getting washed off by rain, which I was sort of hoping would save me the chore. Ah, well, I've cleaned up worse. Here's hoping that without mirror-foes to battle, Mr. Sparrow will get himself a girlfriend (or at least some real live opponents) and leave my car alone.

Throwing Things Out, Driving Around, and Talking About Sailing.

I never posted a Discardia wrap-up, did I? The end of it got upstaged by Earn-money-a. Due to diverse work schedules, hhw and I didn't make it to the Hazardous Waste facility (though we still intend to go). And I bought something on the last day of the holiday, which is the day you're supposed to not "buy anything or bring anything into your home and enjoy the fact that you have enough." I bought some fish and chips and a milkshake, because in the rush to get from work to a show (which I was too early for), I forgot all about Discardia. I'm not sorry though. They were tasty.

I'm not sure how summer Discardia will work for me. Maybe by the time I've been in Hawaii for a few weeks I'll have accumulated some stuff to discard? Maybe I'll clean up my hard drive. Or maybe I'll have to actually examine "ideas and habits [I] no longer need." That sounds almost painful.

In the spirit of Discardia, and also Obtainia or perhaps just Rearrangia (Q: Am I taking this wordplay too far? A: YES), there is a Stuff Swap going on in Portland this Saturday the 19th. It's basically a free garage sale: bring your old stuff and/or take home new stuff without ever getting out your wallet. I heard these have been pretty cool in the past; this will be my first time to actually attend and not just drop stuff off beforehand. E-mail me if you're interested and I'll give you the details.

* * *

I had a fun weekend driving around in Washington. Oregon is the landscape of my heart, but Washington is my favorite place for a road trip. Crossing the Columbia, heading north with the windows down and adventure ahead, is greatly giddifying. Doubly so when the weather suddenly turns fabulous.

I went to Gig Harbor for Truck's hitchin' (daah hah), which was pretty good times, as weddings go. And I crashed at Piri's place for a couple nights, so we had a little time to catch up on our respective plans and (mis)adventures and creative projects, and even planned to revive one of the latter for collaboration (woo exciting!).

And both times I passed the Aberdeen exit, I got that little tug that said "turn off!" Even though the tall ships are still in California and everyone in the Seaport office was home for the weekend, even though Aberdeen is a really wretched town and Westport doesn't have a lot going for it, still I knew the sun and the wind and the water were doing amazing things out there, and I really really wanted to be part of it.

So it was gratifying to get back to my speedy internet connection and read a post from former crewmate Annie about realizing how much sailing lingo you've learned. I only know maybe half of the terms on her list, which is appropriate because she is at least twice the sailor I am. But I definitely know what a vang is (and that there are four of them on the Chieftain, two of which need to be moved from pinrail to kevel before setting the mains'l, and by the way they go three times round the kevel before the locking hitch, or they're impossible to undo if there's any wind to speak of). The article she references articulates something about the language of sailing I think I've tried to say before, but not nearly as eloquently:

But there’s no glazing over [the vocabulary] when you begin sailing, as I did under tutelage for the first time a few weeks ago. You find yourself at sea, awash in the natural world, and yet at the same time you find yourself immured in a vigilant kind of properness, a clear sense of how things should be. It’s not just a matter of proper names. It’s a matter of proper actions and responses, without which there is a world of trouble. There is something deeply ethical about it, as there always is in the command of language.

This was one of the things I found deeply comforting about sailing, even while being utterly confused by it: that there is a unique way of talking about things, and a particular way of doing things, both of which have been derived from centuries of trial and error. Taken out of context these seem odd, even nonsensical, but in a world where creatures of earth move across the water using wood, metal, and air, they make sense. I mean, literally, they make sense, taking something ridiculously complicated and improbable and distilling it into something anyone can quickly learn to contribute to and even understand. The way we've shaped this technology is amazing, but no more so than the way it has shaped us.

Life After The Third.

So on the Fourth I worked all day, and then met up with Alissa (check out her new 3/3rd and Trip To Japan comics) to see an art opening at Grasshut Gallery. Then we had some tea and one of those conversations that only starts winding down when you look at the clock and wonder how it could possibly be that late.

And on the Fifth I worked nine hours, and went to see Upsidedown Cat (check out her Trip To France comics) opening for Lake, which was so fun it made me grin from ear to ear. Ear to ear, I tell you! But I went home before Lake even started, although I like Lake, because of the Sleepy.

And on the Sixth I worked ten hours, and went to the home of Bee and Spider's parents (Mr. and Mrs. Bug) for dinner. Mr. Bug grilled chicken and Mrs. Bug tested several new recipes on us. I was alternately giggly/chatty and dazed, due to the Sleepy.

And on the Seventh I rested. Sort of. There were an awful lot of interruptions from taking my car to the shop, picking it up again, running errands, the phone ringing a bazillion times, etc. And I drew two comics, but had to quit because my eyes and hands were not working quite right, thanks to the Sleepy.

And on the Eighth I drew the last comic and uploaded all three and blogged about why I hadn't done that earlier.

first comic * second comic * third comic

But wait, don't go away yet! I have to tell you about this crazy temp job I did for nineteen hours this weekend! I worked for an auction house that specializes in stamps.

All these collectors and dealers wanted to look at the merchandise before the auction on Sunday, so for all of Saturday and half of Sunday I pulled boxes and albums and envelopes full of stamps (and postcards and old letters and coins) for these people to look at, and then put them back again. There were a bunch of us doing this all at once, inside a corral of tables at which the collectors were sitting, and it was pretty fast-paced and a lot more fun than I have yet figured out how to describe. Maybe it was like waiting tables, but with fewer things to remember and heavier things to carry. I don't know. I've never actually waited tables. Honestly, it would appeal to me a lot more if there were fewer things to remember and heavier things to carry.

Part of why it was so fun was that I am fascinated by little subcultures like this. What kind of people collect and sell stamps? What kind of people sail tall ships? What kind of people work in tattoo parlors? I might not want to spend all my time with stamp collectors (no offense to any closet philatelists!), but observing them for a weekend is terribly entertaining.

(If you're wondering, the answer to the first question above is introverted conservative wealthy white dudes over 50. Although I'm told the hobby is also popular in Japan.)

The auction took place on Sunday afternoon. The auctioneer didn't do the old-time patter style of auction-speak, but he still moved through the lots at quite a rate (which was a good thing, because it still took over four hours). This was intense because I was asked to represent a phone bidder in California. That meant I had to call this person at various points during the auction and slow down the bidding while I checked to see if each price increase was acceptable. And if I messed up, that would obviously be a pretty bad thing.

But I didn't mess up. Whew! In fact I helped the dude in California spend quite a bit of money. He was not the biggest spender there, but to give you an idea of the kind of cash being dropped, one of the more valuable stamps went for $1400.

I know, huh?

Three on the Third: This Time, We Really Mean It.

So I have bad news and good news.

The bad news is that I don't have any comics to post yet. I scripted them all, but now (for the second time today!) I am choosing sleep over drawing. I don't feel entirely comfortable doing the drawing on the wrong day, but I told other people it was fine to do the same thing last month, so this is me pretending I don't care: "I don't care!"

The good news is that other people are way better at managing their time than I am. Check out these INCREDIBLY AWESOME comics, everybody! And watch this space for updates as more appear online.

greenmouse * S. * evannichols * recoveringmale * sanguinity * grrlpup * ah * alissa * lindsey * upsidedown cat

Also, new rule: tell me if you don't want a link to your comics made public. Otherwise, consider yourself advertised. You are all so very worthy of advertising.

A Thing, Plus Some Other Things.

This is when I remind you that Three on the Third is coming around again! If you didn't know (gasp!) or forgot (gasp!), Three on the Third is when you draw three comics about your life on the third day of the month. It is not very hard and it is a lot of fun. April 3rd will be the second Three on the Third; you can see the comics from the first one here. Note that artistic ability is not a requirement. Do it! Do it.

I keep meaning to blog about things besides that thing, and now that I am finally blogging I have no excuse not to. So here are some other things:

Dryer report: I took it to the repair shop and they said, "There's nothing wrong with it! Check your exterior vent." So I replaced my ancient exterior vent, which was exasperating because I am not very good at that kind of thing. But after all that, my dryer still smells like burning. I don't know what's up with that, but it makes me nervous.

Discardia report: I have already discarded a substantial list of things, if not a particularly impressive volume of things. Perhaps my most impressive feat was to pass off an old computer, a hefty bag of peripherals, and two large boxes of software to my parents. They did the same to me several years ago ("Here, you have a house now, want these?"), so I am just returning the favor ("Here, you added on to your house, want these back?"). We all want this stuff (mostly old favorite games) to remain within reach; we just don't know where to put it all. Well, no tagbacks, Parents!

This week, I will clean out the fridge the night before trash day, and hhw and I will venture to a Hazardous Waste Disposal Facility to get rid of old batteries and fluorescent bulbs and maybe a little asbestos. Saturday the 5th is the last day of Discardia. The idea is not to buy or bring anything into your home on that day. I'm curious to see how that will go. Should I put a "no thank you" sign over my mail slot?

Job report (current): My part-time work for my jewelry-making cousin continues to buy the groceries, but hasn't made much of a dent in the bills. However, continued persistence with an unresponsive temp agency has finally landed me a few days of clerical work. I am fervently hoping this marks the end of the long dry spell of underemployment.

Job report (future): Summer plans are finally looking definite enough to blog about: I have two cousins (other side of the family) who run a fishing charter on Maui, and they're hiring me on as crew June through August. It's not sailing, but it's fun work for good money, and I'm extremely excited about it. In case you're wondering if this job will be anything like my last boat job, the answer is no, they are pretty much opposite in every way.

And in case you're wondering if all six of my first cousins are outrageously talented, attractive, generous, intelligent, fun, and useful to know, the answer is yes. (As my sister once said: "I hope we're not a disappointment to them.")