9 Jobs Up, 11 Down

9 job applications.

NINE.

It frightens me a little that I have almost as many out as I've already blown through (11, but who's counting?)

I have decided I will go mad. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but at some point in here, I'll just flip out and leave everyone else to clean up the mess.

On the other side, I am getting really good at cooking different sorts of curry in a crockpot. There are several reasons for this:

1. I can eat it (this is always SUCH a plus)
2. I can make it ahead of time and then have meals for days.
3. I found a couple of recipes that (quite honestly) went so well I was sure I imagined it.

So far, I have mastered tikka masala and chicken korma. I also have a gluten-free naan recipe (nailed it!) and figured out how to make orange lassi with coconut milk.

I would try to fly, but we know how well that went when Sherlock tried it (oh, Reichenbach, what you do to me...)

Yeah, I still haven't worked my courage up enough to watch the last one again. I caught up on Baskerville again, but Reichenbach HURTS, if you know what I mean. I just can't. Maybe this week, but not today.

Poozie is sleeping with one foot sticking out of the kennel door. Looks comfy. She probably crashed out about the time I finished watching Sherlock (that's when all the noises stopped. Can't sleep with all that racket going on!)

I might go work on my damned Ares poem again (for a contest). I dislike Ares. He's one of my least favorite gods (Bacchus is my top one, simply because he's twice as smart as the rest of the bunch. For goddesses, it's got to be Athena (again, because she has a brain.)

Bit of a rant coming here. Move aside, move aside...

I take the Greek view of the god of war. Here's the thing: Ares isn't portrayed that nicely by the Greeks. You kind of get the impression (in Iliad anyway) that they see him as a privileged sissy who got the job because SOMEONE had to take it. I've never heard of another culture who has a story where their god of war goes down to a battle to fight, gets stabbed by one of the heroes from the OTHER side, and goes back to Mount Olympus WHINING to his girlfriend (Aphrodite) to HEAL him because he got HURT. He's the bloody god of WAR, for heaven's sake. Where's the ferocity? Where's the fight? Where, pray tell, is the WARRIOR in this guy?

The Romans were responsible for good ol' Ares becoming Mars and looking tougher, but then again, they were usually eating or warring most of the time anyway. Can't have a war god that looks like a lily-livered chickenshit, now can we?

I hope they don't want him in a positive light. I have difficulty liking the idea of war in the first place, and Ares ain't so spectacular.

Let's hope they don't make me do Achilles next. I can't STAND him. Don't even get me started...

All right, here's why I hate Achilles.

1. He's a whiny brat. When Agamemnon steals Achilles' new slave girl Briseis, he goes into the mother of all tantrums and refuses to let his guys fight...for 9 YEARS. That's right, folks. Achilles sits on the beach and SULKS while the rest of the Greeks fight the Trojans. Some hero.

2. He's a whiny brat part 2. Achilles knows he's going to die young, and the manipulative bastard puts that one over on his MOTHER of all people. He goes down and throws himself in the ocean, screaming for his mom (who's a water nymph.) Basically tells her she should get him whatever he wants because she knows he's going to die.

3. And he leaves his fancy Olympus-made armor at home, so poor Patroclus puts it on and gets killed wearing it. Then good old Achilles has to go get a SECOND set of armor (and he doesn't even wear it some of the time, the wanker, since the only vulnerable spot on him is...HIS ANKLE.)

4. And after what he does to poor Hector, if I had any respect for him it vanishes. He kills him, drags him behind his chariot around Troy for days and makes Hector's dad Priam come out of the city and plead for his son's corpse. UGH.

I think I'm done ranting. Mostly. I have to go do this poem. It brings me no pleasure at all.

Lots to do, no time to do it in.

Ta,
Bec