Reading Chris's blog reminded me of when I was little and my sister, our friend Yana, and I formed a band for a day called The Rainbow Connection. My dad had a recording studio at the time, so we all wrote songs and went out to his studio to record them.

The studio was in a little apartment next to the huge barn that was in our backyard. If you've seen the barn pictures in the top left, that's the barn. It was in slightly better shape 22 years ago, though. Anyhow, the inside of the studio was all covered in egg cartons and the microphone stand had to be lowered all the way for us. Even then, I think I had to stand on my tiptoes, but I could be remembering wrong. I was pretty short as a kid, which surprises people, since I'm tall for my age now.

The song I wrote dealt with the complexity of emotions that bubbled up within me on that warm day. "Some days I like sunny days, some days I like rainy days," I wrote. It's silly and my sister still makes fun of me for it, but I stand by the underlying sentiment. In my dad's recording studio, I sang in my high-pitched, squeaky voice, afraid to be too close to the microphone, wondering whose voice was coming out the other end (my voice is much deeper in my head). I couldn't carry a tune to save my life. I wonder if my dad still has the recording. How embarrassing that would be. But not, I think, in a bad way.

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Email from my friend Morgan today:

Subject: Um... This is my new favorite thing

They may not all be brilliant.

But 4/5th of them are.
http://asofterworld.com

For example, check this one out, and this one.

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Blowing things up
I made my first ever model rocket yesterday. It was a broken leg present from my sweetie, and it was fun putting it together. Now, I just need to paint it and buy an engine and blast off!

Ransom had a good idea: he thinks we should get a bunch of people to make model rockets and then all go shoot them off. I think we should pick a date and time when everyone can shoot off rockets -- of course, those of us in the Portland area should all convene at the same location. At some point, something will probably go wrong, and we can call Ilan and say, "Houston, we have a problem." Because it's funny.

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I am pleased to say that after nearly a month, I have cast aside my crutches. I'm not walking much further without them, but at least I can carry things without my carryin' sack (a cloth bag I've been hanging around my neck so that I can transport things from one room to the next). It's brilliant, this whole walking thing. I love it!

Also, it's raining again. It makes me happy.

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Whilst writing comments for the books page, I realized that it would be pretty easy to rewrite the main comments, assuming I could find a way to import them into a database. So, after much mucking around, I present the new, improved, yet still imperfect comments system. It will remember you now, so that should please you -- many of you have suggested a remember feature. The only thing is that it only remembers you after you post once and then come back. I'll be working on that today because I know how to fix it, I'm just lazy.

At any rate, comment away, and (of course) let me know if you find any bugs.

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Holy cow! Sam Lloyd and his wife just had an 11 lb. baby. That's frickin' huge!

Welcome to the world, young William Elliott Shepherd. What a cutie.

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I finally got something resembling a books page up. I'll be revising over time, and hopefully getting all the books that used to on my site moved over.

Incidentally, you know I was joking about the Mortal Enemy thing, right? I mean, I thought you were my friends, and suddenly there's this whole Axis of Nerds ready to clobber me the first chance you get. Damn, gotta go. There's an army of fire ants attacking my window.

Why are the Olsen Twins popping up in new browser windows every six seconds?

Where are my crutches?

AAUGH!

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I've reviewed the nemesis applications time and again. It's a really tough choice. I think reading the nemesis applications is actually a better way to pass the time than actually having a nemesis. Sounds like a cop-out, I know, so I guess I'll do this by process of elimination. I probably would have stopped short of actually picking anybody, but when I was a kid my sister and I both drew butterflies and asked my parents which one was best. It was important for them to choose and they refused, saying that both butterflies were equally beautiful, which was bullshit (mine was totally the prettier butterfly). At any rate, I vowed then and there to always choose the best butterfly (or nemesis, as the case may be). I should warn you, however, that I'm very tired today, so I'm probably going to pick someone I might be able to handle.

So here we go:

Though the folk song intrigues me, I'm afraid of Austin's fire ants. It was a hard choice to knock him out, since there are all those vulnerabilities and he seems to think butterflies are carniverous, but then he went and brought fire ants into it. I hate ants.

Cherz doesn't play by the rules and strikes me as being a little over-eager, so he's out. Besides, I think he underestimates the amount of time the Olsen twins can actually take up. (That goes for Austin, too.)

Kungfukitten was too quick to suggest joining forces against poor little ol' me with the broken ankle, so I'll have to remain on friendly terms with her and her cold, cold heart, although I might squirt her with Windex just for fun. Besides, if she was my nemesis, who would take me for champagne brunches and shopping?

Bacteria Lover really is my nemesis already, so I'm not going to pick him again.

Crystal and Ilan didn't want to be my nemeses, so they're obviously out, but I like them better for it.

So who does that leave? Dana, Chimera, Sam, and Ruben. Congratulations, finalists.

I think Dana's plan to become president of Netflix is evil and cunning, which makes him a worthy foe, but I don't feel I can pick him while I'm still on crutches. Plus, he pushes old ladies off concrete ledges -- I think I prefer a mortal enemy who only acts when threatened, not just willy nilly like that. He's too much of a loose cannon.

I have a huge fear of selling used cars, which I always associate with Herb from WKRP in Cincinatti (not sure why, other than that he looked like one), brown plaid polyester fabrics, and the smell of stale cigarette smoke, so I clearly cannot choose the wine in front of Sam.

Chimera would be a worthy foe -- oh, the haiku battles we would have! However, he's obviously drunk all the time and, like the Olsen twins, rationality and consciousness can take up a lot of time.

So it is that I choose Ruben as my Mortal Enemy. He's perfect for several reasons. First, he's on another continent, so he can't steal my crutches. Second, he's "too much of a coward to actually exercise my cunning plans." Third, he used the phrase "cunning plans." And who am I to resist a foe who's a sucker for nerdy girls?

So, if the rest of you really want to be my Mortal Enemy, I'm afraid you'll have to take out Ruben first.

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I've decided this whole broken leg thing would be much more fun if I had a nemesis. That way, I wouldn't sit around lamenting my broken leg so much as plotting to get even with my enemy.

To apply for the position of my Mortal Enemy, please answer the following questions:

1. Do you presently have any Mortal Enemies of your own?
2. If yes, how would you keep relationships with your current foes from interfering with our dynamic?
3. Have you ever plotted anyone's demise? Did it work? Please explain.
4. Have you any weaknesses that would come in handy for me to know about were I to choose you as my arch nemesis?
5. How would you seek revenge if I, say, publicly humiliated you on my blog?

Remember, as with any job application, punctuation and spelling count!

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Ooh, the soapbox derby photos are up!

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I was just going to log on and complain about my stupid leg, but instead, I'll share with you an email I got from my nephew, Danny:

Hello Aunt Rebecca! Is today your birthday? Birthday? (Lilly) Is your leg fixed? Maybe... we could say when can you go to the doctor? Isn't that a good one? Can I write my name on the keyboard? Tell Aunt Rebecca that there's um fishys in my house. Don't forget the f on fish. I can type my name myself. How old are you Aunt Rebecca, what number is she? We need to push 29.
danny

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A few of the things that suck about having a broken leg:

• Crutches
• Stairs are demoralizing
• I live in a two story house
• My perception of "far" has shrunk significantly -- the other side of the coffee table now seems far away
• I'm clumsy and inevitably bump my cast a few times a day -- ow
• Crutches -- I hate them and want them to die
• My other three limbs are super pissed off at picking up the slack
• Comfort is a thing of the past
• Every little thing that used to be easy (feeding my cat, going to the bathroom, finding clean clothes in the morning) now takes at least twice as long and is six times as difficult
• Seriously, I hate these goddamn crutches

Some things that make the whole broken leg thing a little easier:

• Ransom is taking good care of me
• Sydney keeps bringing me food (and entertainment)
• Cordless/wireless phones and internet
• Long arms allow me to reach most things in my radius of destruction without falling off the couch
• I've been watching tons of Freaks and Geeks on DVD, courtesy of Bonney and Patrick -- at least I'm not in high school

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So much to tell you. First of all, since the broken leg takes up most of my brain cycles these days, I will educate you all on the location of the fibula. Check out this set of x-rays (not mine). The small bone on the outside is the fibula. My x-rays were similar, but the break(s) in my fibula were more or less straight across, about at the bottom of where that one is broken. Also, I don't have a steel plate in my leg, for which I am thankful. On your own ankle, if you look at the knobby part that sticks out on the outside, that's the base of your fibula and right about where mine broke.

The "lucky break" part of it all is that I don't have to be in a plaster cast. The doctor prescribed a walking boot and even said I could put pressure on it, but that's a bad idea because of the pain, so I'll have to be on crutches for a while longer. Also, it's way better than a sprain because once you sprain your ankles, you just keep spraining them. The ligaments get stretched out and aren't as strong ever after. If it's true that bones are stronger when they've broken and healed over, I'm going to have one tough ankle in 6-8 weeks.

The soapbox races were yesterday. I decided to make the first run on the S.S. Pretty Disaster as driver. Don't worry, I'm only taking Ibuprofen at this point; the pain isn't bad. The driving worked out very well -- it was early in the day, so I wasn't tired; we only raced against one other person that heat, so there wasn't a lot of scary running into other cars stuff; the crowd yelled, "Arr!" as we rolled past; and I hit the breaks early and often, figuring that the less jostling/speed, the better. I may be a fool, but I'm not a damn fool. In subsequent races, my teammates Crystal and Jessie made some bold, daring, brilliant runs! We weren't one of the fastest vehicles, but we knew that going in.

Though I got a bit tired crutching around all day and being called a gimp, I had a great time. I even (after coming home to take a nap) made it to the after party. I'm so glad I did because our car won the trophy for Best Art Car! Holy shit! We were all pleased and shocked about that. The competition was fierce: an insanely long dragon with AOL CDs glinting off it in the sun and smoke coming out of the nostrils, a totally rad pirhana, a pink cadillac (though they won for best costumes), a fly with disco ball eyes that rotated when the car moved, an enormous bottle of scotch, a wiener dog, a viking ship, The Sandy Hut... I'm sure I'm forgetting something. Honestly, I think I would have picked the pirhana. Or the fly. They were awesome. That rocked.

I didn't get any photos, since I left my memory card at home on accident and wielding a camera on crutches seemed like a bit much. But my cousin Brian sent me some, and Sam Lloyd got some that he'll send me, so I'll try to post those soon. Also, my mom and stepdad and little brother all came, which was excellent. I got to talk politics with my stepdad (he's from England, so he has a different perspective on American politics than I do), hang out with my mom (who even cleaned my house!), and make my little brother fetch me beer. They're good people, my family.

Today, I nap.

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