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I get days like this last one every now and again, and I <lj-cut text="really, really hate 'em."> really, really hate 'em.  I know what I want to do, I know why I want to do it, and I can't focus on it and instead spend my time in fantasy -- either rewriting my life or imagining fantastic futures of the impossible/magical variety.  The stuff I want to be doing is *realistic* fantasy -- future visions I can cause to become reality.  I can't make magical faeries that grant wishes, so that doesn't fit the bill.  And the time machine doesn't work either.

So I can't get a do-over on today; it's gone.  I can get up tomorrow and get done all the stuff I had been intending to get done today.  Starting with finishing the Projects page, and then writing up all the little bits Grant'd catalogued for me in email.  And calling Gabe again and see if I can get him involved with doing an artistic brainstorm for the Art section.  And doing my follow-up calls from the weekend, and also taking care of the mundania of doing my INR blood test and two meetings of different teams from the Global Justice committee.  That's a not unreasonable day; I can do that.  Assuming I can crawl back over the event-horizon of my navel.  Much like we don't really understand gravity, I don't really know how I end up in there in the first place, or what's attractive about it.  (I do at least keep the lint-levels down, but that only explains why it's not unpleasant, not why it's attractive.)

What I'm doing is in Hebrew called "Tikkun Olam"; the usual translation of which is "healing the world."  (Literally, closer to "Repair Everything," Hebrew's weird.)  I don't really do it because I want to, I do it because I'm intimately familiar with my connections with the rest of the Universe and I need to make it better.  Fixing environmental catastrophe feels to me like splinting my own busted ankle, tho' the only time that happened in real life I had a doctor do it for me.  I'm fine with delegation, but while I could find a doc who did a better splint than I could, I don't see enough people around doing well at planet-fixing.  So, me.

But planet fixing doesn't get me laid, or loved, or even fed and housed.  My last fantasizing resulted in the Busy House Polyclan, which ran from '89 to '03 and also involved me being the leader of TriState Polyamory, and being able to do things like invite 3 dozen polyfolk over to my house for a holiday dinner.  Maybe doing this work will help me make enough friends to start a new poly-family, but when I built the last one I was younger, cuter, a lot richer and conventionally "successful", and had already put ten years into building a model marriage, tho' my ex's narcissism wasn't something I'd acknowledged or coped with yet. But I could point to a very successful woman who believed in me, and that's what convinced a lot of other folk that maybe they should give it a shot also.

And I suspect that's why I end up in fantasy-land; I'm dreaming up time-streams where I get something out of it personally.  One of the elements of my birth culture that I had already deeply internalized by age 3 was that we can get by on closer to nothing than any other critter ever evolved.  This works, kinda, but it works by surrendering desire rather than by satiating it.  "Oh, I can't afford that. Guess I don't get one, then."  And life is about fulfilling desire, not surrendering it.

I'm about halfway through a stein of hyacinth tea, which my friend James from FNB turned me onto and which is available at Winco for about $5/lb. bulk.  (And a pound of tea is a *lot* of tea.)  After that, I go to bed.  I don't know if that will have me in fantasy-land again; as I've said before, when my head hits the pillow the world goes blank and I wake up in the morning.  But when I do wake up, I want my fantasy-generator to be secure in the idea that I will again build a big loving family, and have toddlers to play with, and live in my own nice house, and write life-guiding fables for my older offspring.  (Any child of the family is a child of mine; I don't need to actually sire any, tho' that's fun too and my genes are proven good.)

I'd *love* for all of that to become real.  But that's not required, as long as I can build a coherent and detailed enough dream of it to live in I can continue working towards it, and the work is the thing.


Still here.
I finally got in touch with Dad.  As predicted, he had no idea that his phone was misbehaving, or why.  He's going to call Verizon tomorrow morning to try to work it out; he's still not up on the idea that the modern business world runs 24/7.  That last is OK; I can deal with it.

And I sent a brief note to Zack, suggesting we reassume a speaking relationship.  We'll see how that goes.

I think I'm making good progress with Grant on getting the Oregon Justice Democrats website up.  Once it's up, we can use it as a test-platform for developing a Positive Proxy application and the Citizenry-building project.  I've just made contact with RepresentUs; we'll see where that goes, also.

Does anybody remember the name of the mythological Greek guy to whom the gods granted eternal life, but *not* eternal youth? 

Still turnin' the crank.
A very good yesterday -- counseling appointment, met with a new candidate (and suggested he put that off for a couple of years), phone banking for Albert, and a DSA-For-Bernie meeting.  Today, much less -- an oncology appointment (very slight chance I might have something, so they want to check), a blood test, and more phoning-for-Albert.

My thoughts, however, are on v3 of Metaculture.  It has forked; I need to do one version for CES and one version for Sunrise.  So I'm hoping for time between oncology and Albert to thoroughly study the CES website, and if time further permits read over all my own stuff to make sure I know how I started and where I am before I take a swing at finishing it off.

Still having trouble making exercise happen; maybe move it to evenings?  I dunno.  Do need to make it happen, tho'.

So, world here good.  Yours? 

Galley slaves
Back when I was working on the LAMI tall ships, I was often running the galley.  It was common for five of us to be working there, with about 4x6 feet of floor space, and not bumping into each other and getting along fine.  My current housemate, OTOH, seems to be capable of filling our 10'x10' kitchen to capacity all by himself.  We have four counter work-spaces, the sink, and the stove, and he can come in to get a cup of coffee and have all six locations filled to capacity; I have no clue how he does it.  I've learned to just leave the kitchen 'til he's done, as nothing's going to get done while he's there anyway.

Portland doesn't have a tall ship.  It'd be nice to do something about that.  I'm kinda overbooked as it is, tho'.

So yesterday I put in a few real useful hours (wrote up a new project proposal, sent letter to Portland Forward with 8 proposals attached) at the start of the day, and then turned into a potato.  A friend suggested I needed to do this, which is possible, but when I try to figure out 'why?' it engages the rationalization engine and I can't get any useful answers.  Maybe I was physically tired from moving all the storage bins the day before.  Maybe I was emotionally tired from sorting through old stuff.  Maybe all the medical testing has been getting me down--I go see Yet Another Specialist in a couple of weeks, to rule out a miniscule probability I have something Really Awful.  (Some blood test was high twice, and then normal.  The regular doc was guessing what that meant as much as I was.)

So, I had a flat day, put it aside and have a better one.  I'm going to go back to bed as soon as I'm done both here and with daily scrum with Zack, because five hours sleep last night isn't enough.  (five hours often is, but not now.)  So, out of bed maybe eightish, breakfast and meds, exercise and shower, brush teeth, dress and get to work.  I'm still looking for another environmentally-centered project proposal; Jules of Cascadia Commons had said she had an idea and would email it to me.  Not received yet; give her a noodge.  Write up the shellfish-farm proposal.  Find contact data for Sunrise and Wayfinding and use it.  Write Sonny at Renew.  Go to the Center for Bio Diversity's Wolf event.  Stop, that's enough. 

Sorting stuff.
So today I went up to Rainier and unloaded my trailer while Brian screwed things to the roof.  Got everything out, and then Brian came down off the roof and did most of the work of nailing up a couple of sheets of masonite board to the roof, holding the insulation panels in place.  Original intent was to also do the front wall and front sides, but we ran out of steam, repacked everything not sorted to the garbage back into the trailer, and called it a day.

Given yesterday's urology appointment, I wore a diaper, but as we were working on Brian's farm, I could pee on a bush at need, so I didn't have to spend the day in a soggy diaper.  Bladder control is back up to about a one-minute warning, which isn't real good, but I'll take any improvement I can get.

Next time in Rainier, help Brian finish screwing down the flashing on the roof -- about half done right now, but sufficient to keep things dry inside when it rains tomorrow -- unload it again, seal the four rat-entrances at the front with steel wool and expanding foam,  insulate and Masonite the front and front sides, and load it all back up again.

Most immediately, write back to Julia at Portland Forward, noodge Isabela and Samantha at NextUp, write up my two new project plans, and find out who to contact at Sunrise and Wayfinding and do so.  My contact at Renew is Sonny Mehta, but until I have the two new plans done I don't have anything to say that he'd be interested in hearing.

I was hoping to have enough energy to shower before falling over, but it ain't happening.  G'night.

Much ow.
Today started with a urology appointment.  I have decided that I do not like having cameras shoved up my dick, no matter how tiny they are.  This likely generalizes to shoving things up my dick in general, but I do not desire to perform the experiment to find out.

The cardiology appointment which followed was routine, and I went from there to the Indivisible weekly protest outside Sen. Wyden and Rep. Blumenauer's offices.  That turned out to be a waste of time; same old people doing same old stuff -- only they've been doing it long enough now that the news stations have started to notice it, I saw 3 professional cameras in evidence.  So I left to get lunch at the nearby mall, and somewhere in there my body figured out it had been insulted and I lost bladder control and started peeing blood.  Fortunately, I made it to a bathroom on time -- this time.

Foolishly, I decided to continue on my Good Samaritan errand, and went to Megan's house to check out the mess her suddenly-departing husband had left of their mid-renovation kitchen.  I'd stopped peeing blood at this point, but bladder control had not returned, and I peed myself twice en route.  Got done with that, got home, put clothes in laundry, and spent the rest of the afternoon peeing a painful quarter-cup every five minutes or so.

We already knew my prostate was enlarged, and as a result of the camera-poking we have determined that my urinary system is otherwise fine.  Yay.  Still, ow.

Tomorrow I go up to Brian's for another round of work on the trailer -- probably wearing Depends while so doing.  TWo or three steps to finish the roof and be done with that part, and I also want to get everything *out* of the trailer and inventoried, and put in the insulation on the front part and roof and nail plywood over it to seal it in.  For bonus points, install the second window.  Window or not, then repack the trailer with everything I'm not throwing away, and back to Portland.  That's probably going to end up being two days work.  I also want to get my response off to Julia at Portland Forward, and continue researching Sunrise, Wayfinding, and Renew.  Also continue writing Iron Fireman, detailing his neglect by his namesake and his turn to NextUp to become the VoteBot.

That's enough planning.  Bedtime.

Generating a new idea.
So after two great days in a row, today was a flop. Got the weekly done with the boys, and I did have enough sense to stay in out of the heat, at least.  I was hoping to edit all my papers, and with luck remember the 8th subject I'd come up with and lost, but didn't remember #8 and upon reading the existing 7 didn't find the lacunae I had been expecting to fill.  And then it took me six hours to figure out that I was stuck and move on to something else.

So far I've located 3 other organizations with youth-related foci:  Sunrise, Renew Oregon, and the Wayfinding Academy.  (NextUp and Portland Forward were already on the list.)  Sunrise and Renew are both heavily climate-oriented, and none of my ideas so far have been both climate-centered and human-scaled.  So I should come up with one.  Or a few.

The two most immediate would be bikes and public transit.  If we could make operating cars in the City more expensive, that would a.) provide funds and b.) discourage car use and thus encourage any other form of transit.  My first idea is raising the rates on parking meters combined with increasing the taxes on for-profit parking spaces, such as parking garages.  Extending metered parking to more areas such as the inner East side should also be part of that.  That should go along with specific recommendations for how to use the funds to improve bike and other nonmotorized transport.

We have hordes of those electric rent-a-scooters sitting around also.  I do wonder what's going to happen with them when some of the companies providing them go bankrupt, which is I suspect inevitable.


A good and productive day. Now, more.
So yesterday I started by writing and sending off a couple of difficult contact letters to organizations that are now making loud claims about doing what I've been doing for years -- "We should really talk" letters.  I also hung up the robot suit from last night, and made several necessary phone calls.  Then I got a haircut and went to volunteer at a NextUp -- ex-Bus Project -- canvassing, and met two high schoolers, one named Giuseppe and the other whose name I didn't retain.  The three of us have an as-yet unscheduled breakfast date.

The structure of what I want to create is a Program Support Office.  It would be useful to name the program it's supporting, but I haven't done that yet and I'm not sure I should -- maybe I should let Giuseppe name it, or one of his cohort.  There's only one key difference between a PSO and a Program Management Office like I set up at Bowne or Novix -- no command authority.  I'll get back to that later.  For a working name, let's call it the Metaculture Program.  I have six project proposals for it, which are in writing but in bad need of editing, which is on today's list.  Those are Citizenry, Positive Proxy, Arcology, Cascadia/Steampunk Synthesis, oh-damn-I-forgot-one, and Metaculture.

There are three other organizations I've identified so far which are also doing the same thing, for which I need to find contacts and send "we should talk" letters.  Also on today's list.  Even without the mundane tasks of weekly scrum and getting some exercise, that's a hell of a list.  And I'm feeling really good about it and want to get moving on it.  Daily scrum with Zack in fifteen minutes, then I can get back to work.  Yay!

Next Up, and how many different ways it can be corrupted.
I am back from the Bus Project Renaming Party. They are now NextUp, proving once again that hiring marketing consultants is generally catastrophic. Robot suit was a big hit, but didn't give me a chance to table and hand out papers as I had hoped. But I now have draft copies of my papers to edit, mark up, illustrate, and so on. And new bizcards.  I've already followed up with 'em via email.

New plan is to contact all the different political groups that are trying to co-opt the youth vote, and use 'em as platforms to help the youth co-opt *them*, instead.

Upcoming week identified. Torpedoes, Captain?
Presentation day is Friday.  I have seven papers I want done by then, and I'm done with three and 90%+ done with #4.  And there's also getting 'em printed; my local Office Max closed last month, so I need to find a new place.  Still to be done are Metaculture, Cascadia/Steampunk Synthesis, and Macroeconomic Modeling.

And I've figured out that for the second edition, each paper should have two half-page illustrations, and take up *both* sides of the page.  That's for later, tho'. Right now is going to be interfered with by spending tomorrow and Wednesday getting a sleep study done, so the Doctor can be as sure as I am that I'm getting terrible sleep.  Evidently me telling him is insufficient evidence.

I've done my first set of calisthenics with my new-to-me dumbbells.  Maybe later today I'll do another set.  Eventual objective is three sets of three different exercises, with no two adjacent sets working the same muscle groups.  Two minutes per exercise, a minute rest between sets.  Not leaping straight into that right away, but not going to go a day without doing *something* any more.

Half a dozen bits of contact work to do today, and I want to get one paper written.  Might as well get started.

Iron Fireman presentation complete

It went as well as could be expected.  We blew the socks off the low-level corporate flunkey we met with, the limit of whose authority is to buck us one level up the chain of command, which he has agreed to do, and I am to call him late tomorrow morning to find out how that went.

I didn't have to rely on the Depends I bought for the occasion, which was pleasant.  (I was *not* about to try grabbing my dick with the channelock pliers the costume uses for hands.)  OTOH, I now know better than to try wearing this on the long bus trip I'd need to get to the week-from-Friday event; I'll canvass my friends for who has a car and is feeling charitable.

And I picked up the bison meatloaf ingredients.  Might make that tonight.  Then to get to work on ops research.

Gabe went home.
I'm still working on *how* to do creative-and-political writing, campaign research, and 15 events next week. Time management itself would be easy; this is harder. Each class of work requires a completely different mindset, and I still need to devise and implement hot kernel-swapping in my brain. And the pile of papers grew another one, 'Fury'. Why it's not merely good but *necessary*, and how to handle it and what to do about it.

Gabe's a great guy, he could probably figure out how to have fun while literally on fire. I'm not that talented, but can mostly follow his lead. He and Grandpa got along well, and there were no out and out catastrophes with Carole, so I'll call that a win.

I will have to figure out on an ongoing basis how to deal with Dad, who's still *mostly* there but not *all* there, if you get the distinction. While the cause of this is easy to spot -- his poor judgment in getting involved with Carole -- I need to err on the side of respecting his agency rather than leaping to his defense. This is out of practicality, not ethical issues -- he has always been and no doubt continues to be very protective of that agency, and will turtle up immediately if he has any suspicion it is being challenged.

I owe J a call, which will be mildly logistically tricky because she's at her best in the evenings, and during and shortly after dinner are the only remaining times when Dad is reliably social. A bit more than shortly after, and the TV eats him.

And so, to quote a departed-but-still-dear author, it goes.

White Paper draft for Positive Proxy
Hi, all -- I've finished my first draft of a white paper on Positive Proxy, and would appreciate your input and commentary,Collapse )

Reintroducing Gabe and his grandpa
So I'm as ready for tomorrow's trip as I can get. Still need to put the CPAP machine, the computer, and the pillow in my backpack, and take the meds laid out on the dresser, and that's it and I'm out the door.

Gabe hasn't seen Dad since Mom's funeral five years ago. And Dad wasn't company then, he was busy. And there's much less of him now. Dad will enjoy the fact of Gabe's visit, but he spent sixty years (okay, minus four months) dedicating his life to keeping Arlene happy, and Carole is a poor substitute. *Dad* doesn't care, so I'm certainly not going to complain to him about his choice in girlfriends -- after all, look what *I* married. If he thinks he's happy and can maintain that for the rest of his life, good for him.

There is of course the minor problem that he may outlive Carole, too. He's in as good shape for 87 as anyone I've seen, and could easily last another ten years. Carole's 84, and in pretty good shape for her age also, but if she dies at 90 nobody would blink. But neither of them seems likely to kick off while Gabe and I are visiting this week. It just leaves me in an odd position re: Gabe when I try to explain to him why Murray is important. The available evidence doesn't support my assertion.

I'm cautious about overloading either of 'em. I like intense discussion, and the only person who could stay with me on a roll was Murray when he was 30. Gabe is too much of a good soul; if I wear him out he's likely to wait 'til he's actually falling over before he begs me to shut up. And Murray, of course, is 87, and would not surprise me if he got tired saying 'hello'. On his good days, he's still all there and strong and vital -- it's just that the good days keep getting further and further apart. We'll be there for a week, Dad might be 'on' all week, or none of it, and it's not something under his control.

That's enough overthinking for the night. It's now 10pm, and I need to be out the door at 6:50am. Bedtime.

Carnivorous Furniture
My comfy chair has eaten my cell phone.

I hope to be able to get it back out without taking an axe to the chair, but I haven't actually *found* it yet. When a friend texted me an hour ago, the text tone came from somewhere under my left thigh. I replied to the text from my laptop, felt under the cushions and in the cracks for the phone without success, and then turned the chair upside down and gave it a good shake. Cracker crumbs, out-of-date business cards, and 3 paperbacks, but no phone.

At 5:10am tomorrow, my alarm will go off, and I'll be by the chair waiting for it.

I'd tell you to tune in tomorrow for more on this exciting adventure, but it's not all that exciting.

I'm too picky
My intention was to go up to Rainier, put a new roof on the cargo trailer, and replace the jack on it.

The roof is not done, the jack is technically in place but not yet functional, and I still feel it was a good and productive day.

48 of the 55 square feet of intended roof are installed, and in two or three weeks I'll be able to go up there, put on the last 7 square feet of steel, put the flashing on over the peak, and finish installing the trailer jack. In the meantime, no heavy rains are predicted between now and then, and all the infrastructure work to permit the placement of the roofing steel is complete, and in addition I put flashing over the seams at the front of the trailer. So the next day's work is going to consist of cutting two pieces of steel, screwing them in place, cutting an 8' length of flashing and screwing *that* in place, and finishing up the jack attachment.

The thing that stopped the job from getting finished is that I didn't overrule Brian about picking up the supplies on our way in, instead of going to the house first, staring at the trailer, writing a list of all the things I already knew we needed, and going back out again. The extra trip cost us about two hours, and in two hours I could have installed the last 7 sf. of steel and put the flashing on. Not sure about the jack.

I have to stay awake another 45 minutes, because I have another set of medications to take that conflict with the one I took at 7:45pm and there needs to be a minimum two-hour gap between 'em.

It was a good day and I'm pleased with the work I got done, even if it wasn't as much as I was planning.

Yesterday was good, let's do it again!
Had a great day, doing some difficult even if eventually unproductive phone work, going to an East-side democratic Club event, leafletting at Fred Meyer (for discriminatory pay policies), and phone banking for Lee for Congress. No further work on the white papers, tho'.

Today I go up to Rainier and reroof the cargo trailer. Will bring laptop just in case, but I expect that to keep me busy all day. Have already sent email to Jaimie about creating a law program for lefty lawyers.

I need to clear some things *off* my plate before there's room for more. Getting those white papers done, getting the site for GearCon, and doing the tabling at Sunrise Hub and Wayfinding Academy are on the top of my list. The first two can be concurrent, the third has to be subsequent to the first two. Investigating setting up the law program and the electric bike program can also be concurrent, and that's five, and anything else goes on the "up next" list. And per the proverb, I'm in over my head already and should thus stop digging.

Busy, busy, busy...
A lot of life-changing events possibly happening. It's the 'possibly' part that causes anxiety -- *maybe* nothing will happen at all.

Tomorrow I call both the Iron Fireman Collective and their landlord, and continue seeing about getting GearCon a site for September. If I get it, it's *also* a big bonus for the Youth Advocacy program, as it gives me an easy reward to provide for them.

And I meet with my Bridge to Health representative, who has been offering me help in getting into law school and getting an electric bike. With the power-assist bike, I can actually get out of this little dell and go places. (There's a hundred-foot hill at the entrance, which I can't get up on a regular bike.)

And I go look at the house above Dean's Scene, and see if I want to live there, and if so whether we can finalize a deal for me doing so. This would be a really big deal; I'd end up as the site boss for an attempt at resuscitating Community Supported Everything, and incidentally running the closest thing I've ever run across to Callahan's Place. Really, people. Actual Free Beer. And probably a Food not Bombs chapter, as well.

Minor trivia afterwards, attending the 350pdx.org Transportation Task Force meeting. Not *everything* I'm doing tomorrow needs to be potentially life-changing.

I wanna cheesecake, and they're very bad for me. Fortunately, I don't have one, and there's that hill...

Tomorrow, tomorrow...
Today I fixed the bed and got rid of the paper drift in the bedroom. I still need to redo my filing system (more accurately, *make* a filing system out of the current filing *non*-system), and sort the two small remaining piles into it. But that's less timely than the other stuff.

So first thing tomorrow I take the two paper piles and put 'em on the bed where they'll be out of the way, and then empty the top of the dresser onto the bed so I can use the dresser as work-scaffolding. Then I use that scaffolding to install the four hooks I have over the closet door and hang the robot arms and legs from them. (Hmm. Maybe put the hooks in the ceiling rather than the wall.) Then put the dresser back and reorganize all the stuff on top of it.

Then take a break, I'll need one. Maybe I'll walk to the hardware store to get the hooks to hang the torso and the "underwear". Won't install those tomorrow, tho'. Instead, get back on writing the Iron Fireman story. I haven't put the ending on section six, and seven probably needs a full rewrite. I know what I want to go into #8, but I haven't started it yet.

#9 requires input from Steve, who isn't answering his voicemail, texts, or email. I may have to go camp on his porch and wait for him to try to leave the apartment. Not tomorrow. If tomorrow ends with half the robot bits hanging from the ceiling and I've spent some time staring at sections six and seven, and maybe writing in 'em, it was a great day.

Oh, and call Dad.

Working on the Iron Fireman story
Okay, so I'm writing this story, and three of these kids have dug up the wreckage of a robot.Collapse )

A headline in my inbox proclaims "Online Pornography Age Checks To Be Mandatory in UK..."

I'm trying to come up with a reason why the United Kingdom should be interested in how old my pornography is.

Pulling the bits together
So I'm back in Portland,and the robot isn't finished yet. And my phone is still in Ranier, which sucks. Brian's friend Rey *might* be bringing it down to me this afternoon. Or, maybe not. We'll find out.

The robot is only one of five pieces of this project that need to fit together. The other creative part is writing the stories of how the robot came to be and how it came to be at GearCon this summer. Part #3 is GearCon itself, which is the nominally easiest part, in that I've helped with three or four (or six?) GearCons before, and have a pretty good idea of what I need to be doing about it. Part #4 is building a relationship with the Iron Fireman Collective, which is nothing like anything either they or I have ever tried. And Part #5 is connecting this with the Cascadians, which is again completely novel.

So, Part #1 requires reattaching the robot-head to its base, finishing the arms, building the ankles and feet, making a harness for the torso piece, and putting everything together. This can only be done in Ranier, and I'm not there right now.

Part #2 requires writing and publishing at least one and preferably 3 or 4 stories, and is what I should be doing right now.

Part #3 does not require any current action.

Part #4 I will hopefully be meeting with Garrett Hour on Sunday afternoon to recruit him as pitchman for the meeting with the IFC, as I can't pitch and wear the suit at the same time.

And the best thing I can do for Part #5 right now is finish Part #2.

So up, up, and away!
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More progress, still not done.
Another not-as-good-as-I-wanted-it-to-be day. I was hoping to have finished the robot; much like fusion power always seems to be twenty years in the future from any given date, finishing the robot always seems to be happening tomorrow. skittenwench helped me flesh out a character in the story, which was good.

Figured out how to cut the face, and did so; Brian mounted the lenses to a mounting-board that'll go inside the head, got a friend to scavenge gaskets for the lenses, and built some segmentata lorica shoulders. He still needs to extend the shoulders down to the wrists, I need to mount the lenses and speaker in the head and then attach the head to the neck, and we need to fabricate the ankles, cover the shoebox-feet with tinfoil, make a harness to support the torso on the wearer's shoulders and install it, and figure out the undergarments and wrists. The hands are just two pairs of channellock-type pliers; the wrists are probably just going to be shop-rags painted silver and wrapped around the pliers.

And that's it, and we're done. I may get some progress pictures from Brian's wife Crystal; if so, I'll see if I can figure out how to post 'em here.

The robot progresseth
At Brian's, working on robot. Not as much progress as I would have liked, but not bad. Top of head is attached to main cylinder of head, and bottom of head is cut and partially drilled. Riveting it into its final conical shape is not something I want to try while tired, so it's waiting for morning. Then the head-bottom gets mounted on the neck, and I figure out how to install the eyes and mouth and do so.