Yesterday was our all-awesome, all the time visit to Enron Field!
Wait. It's Minute Maid Field now. That's 40% less evil because of 100% of your daily recommended allowance of vitamin C. And possibly a part of your complete breakfast.
Anyway, Shana was the only woman to show up with batting gloves. We had noticed on the way in that she had practiced enough with them to blow out the seam on the side.
The announcer was impressed. "Now taking the field. . . Whoa! She brought gloves! She's serious!"
I was impressed, too.


Our friend Adrian showed up to hang out with Gwynyth. We couldn't get them seats near us and Adrian was nice enough to not allow Gwynyth to hang out way up by the roof alone. They managed to sneak down in the bottom of the fourth -- because if you don't take every opportunity to sneak down to better seats the terrorists have already won. Anyway, here is Adrian at the after party catered by Denny's:



The whole situation may have been too much for Gwynyth, who appears to be sad in this picture. Like refugee kid sad. Please. For the price of a Quad Venti Breve Latte a day, this child's father can have a Quad Venti Breve Latte a day:



To conclude, here is a picture of me taken by someone with a camera phone at work on a lunch break:



Both the beaver and the rabbit in a sweater tell me to do evil things.

Edit --
By request in the comments area . . . Look how pretty and fashionable:

Last night was game night. I could have handled it better.
Ok, so our little werewolf pack admittedly had screwed things up pretty good.
By the time the game started last night, the city was a wreck. There was no power. Werewolves and vampires were killing each other, regular humans clogged the streets with panicked flailing and a 25 foot tall war spirit was walking around with a giant axe smashing stuff pretty much anywhere he wanted.
But we had a plan.
I was to act as bait, trap the war spirit in a alternate reality, and probably just hang out there for the rest of eternity - maybe knitting, maybe avoiding a giant axe.
Whatever the plans were, it played out in a different direction.
My character answered a question incorrectly . . . And the city blew up.
50% player character death instantly, as well as hundreds of thousands of people we were supposed to protect.
The stunned silence around the gaming table was almost liquid.
"Wait a minute. Mushroom cloud? Seriously?"
"Yes. Seriously." Darrell answered.
I've never been a part of an endgame where it went so horribly wrong, much less been the reason it did.
Sometimes characters die in these things, and the ending was completely "World of Darkness" dark, alright.
So, Mike's character survived by passing into the spirit world during the impact and Adrian's character survived by dumping magic into his run speed and dashing straight for the Oklahoma border.
Joe's character was turned to ash instantly and mine was frozen into a statue in honor of the wrong answer.
Both very very dead.
Dead with no chance of coming back. We all know that one of the most common and beloved/hated conventions of fiction is for someone to come back from beyond. They glow blue like Obi Wan maybe, but can't really have an effect on the world.
Or perhaps they turn up more powerful, but dark and bitter like in the Living Dead movies.
Sometimes they just come back from the dead with new abilities ala Gandalf the White.
Not in this case.
I got half of us killed. Sorry, Joe.
We did spend a great deal of time discussing the upcoming Dungeons and Dragons game.
The initial party consists of a cleric to heal and a thief to disarm traps and steal stuff and two hybrid classes -- A paladin to heal and chop stuff up and a Dusk Blade to cast spells and chop stuff up.
It seems pretty balanced. I'll try not to kill Darrell's character in revenge for the explosion last night. Instead, I'll kill Darrell's character because he just can't defeat a swarm of venomous dire primordial fiendish shadow squirrels. Not that I'm vindictive.
Did I mention the squirrels have ninja class levels?

Happy SysAdmin Day!
Today is one of my favorite holidays. Unfortunately, Hallmark has yet to sanction SysAdmin Day.
So track down your favorite SysAdmin and let that person know how much you appreciate them -- keeping in mind that they can read your email whenever they want.
Thank them and for the love of god make it believable, people. Your network access may very well depend on it.
If that doesn't work, the traditional gift is cash.

I have a new favorite podcast as of the drive in this morning. It helps when I get mentioned a lot.
I've known Darrell and Adrian for years and I think I heard them curse more in that 26 minutes than in the rest of the time I've known them combined. One reviewer has already called it "A bracingly geeky semi-pantsless romp sure to Pwn the 'explicit' tag."
In other news, I'm a Podcast reviewer.
Guys, I want to help. I'll be stalking your comment area for most of the day.

To conclude, according to the call logging system, my manager called the overnight guy last night and demanded pot. I deleted the MP3 myself. Every time I think the dysfunction has hit a critical level and can get no worse someone mocks my small thinking.

This morning there was a discussion of literature between myself and two of the overnight techs.
Here is a basic break down:

1. Of Mice and Men - Good but sad. Too much animal death.
2. Grapes of Wrath - Filling the transmission with straw makes it sound like the engine runs more smoothly.
3. The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County - Mark Twain phoned that in to buy scotch, probably.
4. The Jungle - Disturbing and mostly pointless.
5. The Great Gatsby - Biggest waste of trees in the history of the printed word.
6. Catcher in the Rye - Required reading for haters. . . Everyone else could probably skip it.
7. The DaVinci Code - Two decades from becoming required reading in public schools.
8. The collected works of William Shakespeare - Probably written by someone else but pretty cool either way.
9. The Fountainhead - "Never mind. I'm probably confusing it with something else."
10. Where the Red Fern Grows - Why don't they just give kids downers and have them wash them down with vodka?

Not all of those opinions are mine, strictly speaking.

On the subject of literature, I'm one episode away from the end of Scott Sigler's Infection podcast-only novel. As far as sci-fi horror splatterfest podcasts go, Infection has disturbed me more than most. The protagonist gets these strange (very strange) growths and spends about 20 episodes picking at them and removing them himself with common household items. He finally completely snaps when he has to use "chicken scissors" somewhere.
I listened to that episode on Monday and I still hunch over a bit thinking about it.

I'm still working on the next big Dungeons and Dragons story arc. I may serialize it here or turn it into a book later. Maybe both. Game sessions may be recorded and podcast at some point. Either way, I'm pretty excited about it.
I also picked up the latest issues of DC's 52 and Marvel's Civil War. I can't fall behind then next time there is a literary discussion in the NOCC at 6am.

Awesome baseball action:



Thanks in no small part to my brilliant coaching ("Um . . . Hit it really hard." "Hit it really far." and "I'm sitting in ants! I'm sitting in ants!") the batting is going really well. Gwynyth spent the practice yesterday taking photos of Shana. She may have a future in sports photography. At least she does if the athletes can take direction like, "Pretend you are in the desert!" and "When I say 'cheese', hit the ball really really hard and far."
Wait a minute. . .
With photography like that my coaching is completely superfluous.
I had no idea her "pinching your head" routine was an attempt at downsizing:



Now I feel really useless. Here is the insert your own joke photo:



And two photos of Team Shana:





I can't even identify the weird bit of sports equipment Gwynyth is holding in that last picture. Cleat scrubber? Tee tee-er?

Work called a little after 4am, reporting broken stuff. I came in early and can find no evidence of the broken stuff. Also, the guy that called me went home. Now I'm changing his password without telling him just to make myself feel a little better.
Plans for today include hanging out with Gwynyth during Shana's physical therapy (we may skip over to the Mac store for a "Switch" demonstration) and then acting as roadie for "Team Shana" at the park. That tee is pretty heavy.
Hopefully, I'll be able to skip out of work as early as I showed up.
If not, there is plenty of "unauthorized account maintenance" to occupy my time.

I've been working more on my upcoming Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
I've got some left-overs. Here is a ready made scenario I just can't squeeze in and it is complete with a pre-generated non-player character:

Background -
Aeons ago, the goddess Jax-Arah created a minor plane of transition, similar to the Ethereal Plane or the Astral, to connect her own two otherworldly realms to the Prime Material Plane. This plane provided a conduit, which forked as one traveled from the material world to go to either of her two planes.

Centuries ago, however, Jax was defeated in battle by the terrible Abyssal lord of serpents, Sseth. Sseth sent his squamous minions to invade Jax's two planes and slay all of her many children, using the forking conduit plane to get to them. However, the eldest of the children, Jax's half-mortal son Samuel-el, stood at the junction to stem the squirming tide. As Sseth's demonic serpents approached, he stared at them with a steely gaze. "And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers."

A terrible battle ensued. At its height, just as he drove the tide of scaly horrors back, the paladin cried, "I want these snakes off my mother's forking plane!"

And he was victorious. But still he stands vigil, should the snakes ever again attempt to invade the plane. No more of him could anyone ask.

Scenario: Sir Samuel-el would like to take a break from his vigil, and sends word across the planes to the player characters for help. He wants them to take his place for a time, to watch for another invasion by Sseth's forces. If the PCs ask why or want to know what he plans to do during this break, he says he'd like to go back to the Prime Material Plane for a time. "I'll just walk the earth. You know, walk the earth, meet people... get into adventures."

Sir Samuel-el, Son of Jax

Male human half-celestial (Lawful Good)
Paladin10 CR12
Init +2 Speed 20 feet
AC 23, touch 12, flat-footed 21
HD 10d10+90 hp 151
BAB/Grapple +10/+17
Attack +18 melee (2d6+11/19–20, greatsword)
Full Attack +18/+13 melee (2d6+11/19–20, greatsword)
SA Smite evil 3/day (+8 to attack, +10 damage), smite evil 1/day (+10 damage), spell-like abilities (CL 10) At will—daylight, detect evil; 1/day—dispel evil, cure serious wounds, neutralize poison, aid, detect evil, bless; 3/day—holy smite, remove disease, protection from evil.
SQ Darkvision 60 feet, immunity to disease, resistance to acid 10, cold 10, and electricity 10, DR 5/magic, SR 20, aura of courage, divine health, remove disease (2/week), lay on hands (80 hp), divine grace, and special mount.
Fort +28 Ref +13 Will +15
Str 24, Dex 15, Con 29, Int 17, Wis 18, Cha 26

Crucial Feats: Combat Expertise, Dodge, Endurance.
Other Feats: Negotiator, Skill Focus (Diplomacy).
Crucial Skills: Concentration +20, Jump +9, Listen +8, Search +8, Sense Motive +18, Spot +6.
Other Skills: Diplomacy +23, Handle Animal +19, Heal +15, Knowledge (the planes) +6, Ride +17.

Paladin Spells: 3/3, save DC 14+spell level.
2nd—bull's strength, delay poison, eagle's splendor.
1st—bless, bless weapon, cure light wounds.

Possessions: +2 full plate armor, +1 greatsword (it is the one that says"Bad Mother F*cker"), cloak of protection +1, ring of protection +1, amulet of health +2, potion of neutralize poison, 16 pp, 12 gp.

Snakes

Viper Demons (1,000): hp 22; use the stats for a half fiend huge viper (see Monster Manual).

Constrictor Demons (500): hp 60; use the stats for a half fiend giant constrictor (see Monster Manual).

OMG!
Ok. So years and years ago I played (and sucked at) EverQuest.
Years later, I tried World of Warcraft and EverQuest Two.
Recently, I downloaded the free trial of the original EverQuest to see how the game has held up since, oh . . . 1999.
So there are new races and stuff, but I created the same old wood elf ranger (female) from when I played before. The only exception is that this time she is named after our cat, Nissa.
I always play female characters in MMORPGs. I find that other players give me free things.
Anyway, I re-acquainted myself with the controls and interface. I smashed rats and spiders and kobolds.
I created another character who looks like an anthropomorphic version of my wife's cat and borrowed her name, Miyoko.
I smashed rats and spiders and kobolds.
I noticed a large pit with some scaffolding in the middle. The scaffolding led down to the core of the kobold mine. I wondered if I could avoid the long enemy-laden hike around the rim to the entrance of the pit by just jumping across.
I smashed rats and spiders and kobolds.
I hit sixth level by beating the snot out of a kobold warrior.
Another player waved and bowed and hopped and got my attention.
"watch my jump ok?" he said.
"k" I suavely replied.
With a running start from the tunnel, he leapt out over the abyss. I lost sight of him.
However, he came running up, uninjured, a few minutes later while I was beating down a kobold grunt.
He hopped and waved and danced at me.
"i'll try" I promised as I looted 9 silver, 11 copper from my fresh kill.
I headed for the mouth of the tunnel. With no planning at all, I hit the up arrow key and space barred over the edge . . .
I watched awesome 3d graphics of quickly rendered scaffolding scroll past before I landed on the bottom in a crumpled heap.
I saw the red text:

You have taken 455 points of non-melee damage.
You have lost consciousness.
You have died.
LOADING . . . PLEASE WAIT

Yeah. I missed EverQuest.