Speak Stiltedly and Wear a Yellow Shirt

Yes, after over two years of not ficcing, I have returned, in a small, 100-word way, to writing fanfic. In fact, I’ve been working on an old Stargate novel on the side, and for research I’ve been rewatching Stargate season 7. About nine episodes in I realized that I have an unfinished Stargate drabble project that could be benefiting from my so-called research.

Don’t expect too much from my first official piece of fanfic in twenty-eight months: Double Standard, a coda to “Birthright.”

[Update:] They’re like popcorn! Backups, a coda to “Revisions.”

Lori wrote BSG! But she won’t drag me back into the bottomless pit of fanfic, not even with the second person: Doubt, by Lori.

I missed this back in November, but here’s the world’s hardest sudoku, and an article from USA Today about its creation.

Thanks to the iTunes store, I am now caught up on BSG and ready for my finale part 2 rematch with Seema. None of my part 1 predictions have been ruled out yet, and my Divorce pick is looking good.

Here’s your spoiler space. Don’t make me say I told you so…

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Seema and I are having a BSG Season 3 finale pool. Keep in mind that neither of us has seen part 1 of the finale yet. Here’s my attempt at spoiler space…

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Seema wants to know why I’m suddenly obsessed with wooden jigsaw puzzles, so here’s the story:

Mom wanted a jigsaw puzzle for her birthday, so I popped into Eureka Puzzles, the game store near the Pier 1 on Beacon St. in Coolidge Corner, on my way home one day. I looked through all the regular die-cut jigsaw puzzles for something the right size and nice, but nothing jumped out at me. (But for some gorgeous cardboard jigsaw puzzles, see these jigsaws from Japan.)

Then I noticed the wooden jigsaw puzzles. One of them was partly assembled inside some kind of puzzle display so you could see the whimsy pieces. Since they were approximately the right size, with art mom would like, and too cool for words, I had to get one.

It all should have ended there, but Veronica and I got a chance to play with it over the weekend and it was very addictive. The pieces really do feel so much more substantial than cardboard, and all whimsy aside they have more interesting shapes. Now I don’t know if I can wait for mom to finish her puzzle.

The ones at Eureka are laser-cut wooden jigsaw puzzles from Liberty Puzzles and Wentworth Wooden Jigsaws (see the slideshow); see also Art-Puzzle GmbH. These are (usually, but not always) cheaper than the real scrollsaw-cut ones you can get from all sorts of one-saw operations around the web: Fool’s Gold, MGC’s (see especially his samples), Conrad Armstrong, Jack in the Box, etc.

The other option is making your own. Here are a brief introduction and some details from a puzzlemaker, or you can check these references.

The MBTA had not adopted Daylight Saving Time as of this morning at (or so the bus claimed) 7:45am. I guess you can’t expect everyone to spring forward, no matter the obvious benefits. Maybe next year…

The lovely Seema provided this link to TWoP’s List Of Things Skippy Is No Longer Allowed To Do Aboard The Battlestar Galactica. Here are my favorites (beware of spoilers in the 900’s):

3. Not allowed to spell Colonel Tigh’s name “T-G-H” and claim “the Cylons took the I,” as it is cruel and not remotely funny.
* Okay, so it’s hilarious. It’s still cruel.
18. I am not a Cylon trapped in a human’s body.
42. Not allowed to hand slices of bread to Lt. Agathon and ask her to “do me a quick favor.”
68. Not allowed to stalk Captain Thrace.
* Not allowed to stalk Major Adama.
* Allowed, however, to stalk Captain Agathon, as he is unlikely to notice me doing it.
* And by “me,” we actually mean “you,” Lt. Edmonson. You think you’re being subtle? Gods.
75. I am not allowed to sell calendars that indicate Captain Thrace’s “Time of the Month.”
78. He is not “The Dread Pirate Tigh.”
107. New Caprica is not for lovers.
118. Algae is not “made of people”.
124. I am not the Chosen One.
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I was going to blog about a couple of squishings on the commuter rail caused by the sheet of ice that has covered the city for the past two weeks: a squished car reported in the Metro and a squished foot reported in the Concord Journal. But one hopes that this Little Ice Age will eventually end, the ice will recede, and with it the ice-related squishings.

Commuter-rail squishings are, unfortunately, nothing special here in the City That Sleeps. But here’s a T story that made it out of the little papers all the way to the Boston Globe: the special brand of customer service provided by the MBTA was amply demonstrated by an accidental kidnapping of a 7-year-old by a Green Line conductor. I can just picture the frantic mother pounding on the door of the trolley in vain.

Now if only they’d kidnap Little Doggie…

It can’t be explained. Just click for Massachusetts Barbie…