So I picked up my prescription for the nasal spray antihistamine and with much in the way of nervousness took my first dose this morning exactly as recommended, with the bend over gently inhale gently, tasted nightmare (this shit is foul) and then sat back in calm resignation to feeling sleepy and icky. Then--

To digress briefly to add drama: the major side effect listed is somnolence, as most antihistamines are, so I'd warned my manager I'd probably need about a week to adjust my timing etc and get used to it. Also, I determined to do it on full stomach.

I did not eat though, and to start, somnolence is not the word I'd use. More like--okay, somewhat warm, yes. And--how to put this--sort of pleasantly lethargic like after half a joint and kind-of sort-of, well, high, like mildly stoned, like dopamine which is my favorite brain chemical of all and really should be everyone's.

So short version: I had a super good day at work, where I slowly and happily did my tasks, slowly and happily wandered to the bathroom on breaks, slowly and happily ate microwave popcorn one lingering kernel at a time, and felt overwhelming affection for my co-workers, their chairs, and the floor and even mankind itself, which is pretty new for me.

When I came down a bit, I also realized there was like ninety percent less sniffling and nose blowing and felt overwhelming affection for my allergist, the medication, allergies, pollen, and weather. And somewhat more quickly took my afternoon dose.

Like I get the window for 'my wonderful new antihistamine that tastes like evil but I would die for it as it gets me high at work' is probably pretty small but I'm on this train with no regrets so wheeeee.

And also importantly, it really works which I totally appreciate but for the record: God bless that deviated septum for its help in getting me to this place.

(Azelastine hcl: you're welcome.)
So a question for people going to Escapade or have been to Escapade about panel contents. Specifically, trigger warnings.

For the Magicians panel on Saturday, I'll be one of the moderators, and I'd like some opinions on trigger warnings. I mean, this panel will need them, so I'm wondering how I should go about this.

here's my reasoning on both )

Thoughts, anyone? I want this to be as fun and safe and interesting as possible for everyone involved.
I'm feeling oddly good despite the fact my new boots didn't fit. This could also be my new playlist, "Test Case". For my search for musical highs continues unabated.

baffling musical playlist in progress )

This is me working on playlist creation. As you can see, it's non-stop action on Tuesday nights at Idlewilde, and yes, I did name my apartment Idlewilde because I can. I may even have a second cup of coffee even though it's after eleven: I feel dangerous.
As I finally found it and have it bookmarked--and fuck knows what tumblr will do next, turn everything pink text on black and mess up more tags?--pasting this here.

game of god, chapter 24, section one )
So, appointment with allergist today. Wait for it. Or not, I'll just tell you.

Forty-one separate skin tests--including rabbit--have yielded the following: I may be a little tiny bit allergic to walnuts and German cockroaches. Everything else was statistically insignificant and I have pictures of my back to prove it. Or, those things could be contributory maybe? but not really. I don't even like walnuts so not a problem there.

That said.

I have a mildly deviated septum which no one in my entire life of doctors looking up my nose has noticed before and needs special equipment to explore (my nostril. To explore my nostril). I had mentioned earlier in the appointment that my upper gums got swollen or tender or really sensitive on occasion as well as the roof of my mouth and I still had problems smelling things sometimes or I smell the wrong things, sometimes unpleasant. Her expression should have warned me but whatever.

So working theory: I have had a chronic sinus infection most of my life, which apparently is true of forty-nine percent of the population who comes in for allergy tests, specifically one that reacts badly to changes in barometric pressure, humidity, temperature aka weather changes and becomes irritated and inflamed and worse and contributory to my misery. There is no season for this; it's all the seasons.

...yes. I am allergic to weather. To weather. That's a thing.

(Like, won't lie, a part of me was like "YES I KNEW IT WOULD BE SOMETHING STUPID AND WEIRD AND WHAT" but...I was joking about being allergic to the weather. I didn't know it was a thing. But it is a thing.)

Now why on earth insert concept here: no idea. I've had diagnosed sinus infections before, so that part is at least there, but the rest, no fucking clue. She added an antihistamine to the flonase for daily use that I need to take at an angle because the taste is horrific if it gets to the back of my throat. I also have an appointment with an ENT in March to do deep nostril exploration--nostril exploration--and also need to acquire and learn to use a neti pot???? and ponder universal irony.

Like, I have no idea where this goes but you'd think someone, somewhere would have said "Gosh, that's one deviated septum I wonder if shit is getting up there and infecting????" Like, any time since fourth grade?

Okay, but. Why do antihistamines work? Why does hay make me sneeze? What is the sound of one hand clapping? We just don't know.

Update: I am making two quarts of tea, three parts Yorkshire Red/one part Lady Grey to deal with my life. Extra sweet: I deserve it. Recommended for existential nasal complaints and need of high-calibre caffeine.
So far, the testing of the wheat, oat, and barley hay is going very well; the rabbits weren't enthused at first, but are getting into it now. That part makes sense; the multiple textures are nothing like Timothy Hay or Orchard Grass. Which is a relief: I was going to cut their food a little for a couple of days to get them to eat more hay, but they're already on their way to bunny health.

This is definitely better for their teeth; there's enough of a combination of soft and chewy and textured to gnaw on and enjoy. Since the new base rug and throw rugs were put down, I'm getting them used to me wandering in with the hand vac. My goal is to either a.) get them super used to it or b.) they stop making messes for fun to avoid it aka deposit all the poop in the box, not just most of it.

pics )
It's now sleeting. I know this because this shit bounces, which is creepy as fuck. It's confusing to me, as it is not in its natural habitat aka a snowcone or ice chest surrounding some sort of beer and/or coke.

Side effect of living in central Texas; we are baffled by ice.

I mean, not ice where it belongs--see above, or within an ice maker or ice bag or environment in which ice forms (freezer)--but like, from the sky. It's fucking witchcraft, is what I'm saying. Like, this is the only time I sort of understand witch hunts, because there's a part of me that is extremely suspicious of this nonsense because it's just not right.

Chicago, Helsinki, New York = ice from sky.
Central Texas = months long fires and air conditioner use in early March.

February + Central Texas + ice from sky <> anything good or wholesome.

This has been a baffled weather report while all of us look suspiciously outside every so often.

(sleet falls in cleavage = holy fuck what elemental did I piss off?????)
Feb. 8th, 2019 12:31 pm


It is graupeling in Texas right now.

graupel - precipitation that forms when supercooled water droplets are collected and freeze on falling snowflakes

I would like to thank my mom and sister for this as well as the German language for such an awesome word. It is graupeling. Graupelling? I am now sharing it with everyone in ear- and/or textshot.

It's also 34 F so it isn't sticking but is coming down in like three directions simultaneously and therefore surreal to those of us who were living it up at seventy like two days ago. I was pondering my short sleeve shirts people.

In closing: graupel.
Testing Barley, Oat, and Wheat Hay with rabbits. At minimum, it does not make me sneeze and they seem to like it. Comments stated it was the one hay that someone could use that they weren't allergic to, so here's to hoping after a few days of exposure.

I see the allergist on Monday, which will hopefully give me an idea of what I should be avoiding from now on. I would like to know what life is like when one is not constantly blowing one's nose. V. exciting.
I cannot find that I posted this, though I know I did, so doing it again. This is my go-to soup; it's delicious, it's hearty and filling, it's versatile. It doubles and triples without effort; just add more liquid as desired. It freezes magnificently for months (tested this), refrigerates just as well, and reheats as good as the original.

It's other name is "Leftover Soup". You'll see why. As usual, recipe first, followed by notes and variations. Don't be intimidated by the ingredient list and instructions; most if it is literally 'add this next'.
hobo soup )
you and your thickener )
deconstruction and variation )
meat or other meat or no meat )
all the vegetables )
recommendation notes on tomatoes and liquids )

I have three more soups to add for those in need of easy or bulk meals. I am so glad I just ate. All recipes are added and being added to tag food: recipes.

Updated: Added notes on sausage use for those who eat halal/kosher or are cooking for those who eat halal/kosher. Anyone have anything to add there, I'd love to hear it.
It sounds exotic and fancy, and it's so easy you will cry. The first time I made it, I fed it to [personal profile] aerialiste and my best friend and they emptied my pot.
chicken and gnocchi soup )
gnocchi notes please read )
Up to now, online grocery shopping has been pretty much the best and only way to a.) stay under budget and b.) not buy eight boxes of brownie mix (mulitple types), ten to fifteen pounds of fruit that looks interesting, six kinds of cheese I can't pronounce, and a minimum of four loaves of artisan bread, three of which I may not be able to pronounce. I could never afford to go into Central Market, Sprouts, or (sometimes) Whole Foods with a credit card; it just ended expensively with nothing that could be used for meals but lots of highly pretentious snacking.

The most important advantage in doing it online is I can do it over a period of days, specifically when I'm not terribly hungry. I sensibly go through my old grocery lists to check for things I may be running low on, add my staples to the online cart (x amount of beef, x amount of chicken, no more than one (1) pork product because my stomach doesn't like too much of it and one (1) bacon, x number of frozen broccoli, spinach, peas, mixed veggies, bread, cooking butter, eating butter, milk, cooking cheese, sandwich cheese, one (1) obscure cheese, eggs....), go to pepperplate and sensibly choose easy recipes I can make ahead of time after work with no more than two (2) that require a lot of effort. It's all very adult, and in this way, I always go above Real Budget but always below Actual Budget (actual budget is one quarter higher; that is my indulgence in fifty grain provolone bread and local full cream organic milk, out of season Ranier cherries or those super random sales on usually overpriced steak or something).

This strategy is one of the reasons I used Prime Now, specifically their Sprouts and now their Whole Foods section. I am not joyful about Whole Foods, but while they are above and beyond on Totally Pretentious Food, they had a comparatively limited selection compared to HEB (the ubiquitous grocery store of Texas and some of the south) and honestly, I picked up a taste for local and organic produce and chicke; in other words, prices made sure I was budget limited, but it did get me eating almost entirely organic and (often) local with like, step rated so I knew my chickens and cows were well-cared for and possibly more educated than I am. And healthy.

(This is why I never go live into grocery stores without a monitor (aka family or friend); my brain just stops working and wants ALL THE FOOD even though there's no way I can cook and eat that much produce and garbanzo beans. I also never go before I've done my monthly grocery shopping, ever. Just no.)

My secondary strategy for dealing with I Want All the Food (Or Things Food Adjacent) also rests on the multi-day online grocery list; fine, I tell myself grimly, you want it, lets put it on the list. Then--while again, not hungry, I'll strip it down again of all the eight pounds of cotton candy grapes, moon grapes, cherries, six of the ten cheese, you get the idea. This makes grocery shopping fun as well, with the addition the joy of self-denial when actually, twenty four hours later you really didn't want so many damn grapes. So I really am not denying myself anything but I do get a glow that maybe I'm denying past-me who really should have known the unfortunate result of shotgunning five pounds of cherries in two days (she does, she just doesn't care).

I only use Instacart rarely; it's dangerous. HEB is on there and HEB is my Paradise/Waterloo; it's just too much. I only use Instacart before holidays when I'm expecting to make dishes for family stuff or to pick up bulk canned mushrooms and butter sales or something, once, twice a year at most.

For reasons beyond my understanding, on Thursday, while hungry, I opened up Instacart. And it went downhill from there. My usual strategies? Failed. Didn't even try. The part that is now driving me nuts is that going over the list, there's no junk at all--I managed to control that--and all of this is meal or good snack related. This is a solid fucking list; really, it's unjudgeable.

It's the amounts that are the problem.

examples )

And this is where I explain Weird Food Feelings that influence me unduly and may have had a part in this (though never before like this).

boring food rules of self )

Part 2--there's a part two--I get a monthly Amazon Pantry box (it arrives Monday). I also did the order for that on Thursday night. I just went to look and am going to pretend (until Monday) that this isn't happening.

Like, what the fuck happened to me on Thursday? I did my full budget, all the math is right there, and--here we are, preparing to Tetris the fuck out of my fridge and pantry and break myself some physics.
So I've had non-stop allergies for roughly the last six months. The last month it got worse; the last week was just shitty. Being mature and responsible, I adulted the fuck out of yesterday: I made a doctor's appointment because grown-ups do that all the time and not just when they run out of oxygen and need an ambulance.

...I mean, so I've heard--never mind, yeah, I do that. Or my mother gives me a long look and shamefaced I adult-child my way to the doctor feeling resentful of my lungs. Fine.

Quick aside:

So last month I talked about the entire Thing That Happened With Anxiety and Asthma and Crazy. Now, my regular doctor at the time said it was definitely anxiety and not asthma, and the last almost-two years have sort of confirmed that. I still had my inhaler, but the only time I ever used it was when I was having very severe allergies, because albuterol is awesome, and anyway, why not split the difference? In general, it did help; it would loosen up my breathing and I'd feel about a hundred times better. So there's that.

Back to the story:

However, starting on Thursday, things got much weirder. When I say my allergies were bad, we added in not just coughing, but an unproductive one, and I was constantly coughing. It was also getting harder to catch my breath on my walk to and from work, as in, it took way too much effort to get a deep breath. So the inhaler came out and long story short, Monday, I was in 'fuck it'--which is totally the same thing as adulting--and called for a refill of my inhaler and then an appointment.

(Note: no fever, no borderline fever, not even a fake almost-fever. I was a cool 98.6 like some sort of--it was mocking me, the thermometer, I mean. It was bullshit.)

The CMA was awesome and was super concerned about my blood oxygen (which was really worrying because I actually felt like I was fine there??? Oh God am I adapting to a low oxygen environment???? In my lungs?????) Then he gave me this long tube with numbers and told me to blow into it, and recorded best of three.

...and as we all know, best of three indicates this is a score. I'll get back to that.

Anyway, my new doctor (in Austin) was also concerned, listened to my lungs, concerned some more, and gave me a breathing treatment, which I love (my mouth always feels so clean). It wasn't the dramatic improvement I expected, but as I realized while writing about this on twitter, the last time I had one of these I was in the middle of a literal asthma?/?allergy attack and of fucking course it felt like magic, I had gone from 'not very much air here' to 'like three times as much air, not all the air but boy it felt like it'. I had steady improvement almost as I finished the appointment for several hours, but that's when the tube became a problem.

I really, really needed to beat the clinic score, and set myself of in a coughing fit every time. [personal profile] cathyw assures me this is the correct behavior, so yay! So far, added 50 to that bad boy, and I have no idea how terrible my score really is, I am in the zone of breathing.

My doctor has taken a threefold approach to this. 1.) Allergist on the 11th. 2.) five days of steroids. If those don't work, 3.) a week of antibiotics. My guess is going to be steroids. I almost asked in the office for getting shot up with the high dose, but a.) honestly, I'm nowhere near needing my steroids delivered by needle for urgency-purposes, and two, they always knock me out in a weird way where I don't really feel tired but become prone and unconscious when offered some sort of relatively stable surface, not necessarily flat.

So that was the saga of how I adult. Also, I am officially to take Flonase twice a day (I stopped because I thought it wasn't working, which in retrospect might have partially led to these events but spilled milk).

I am so looking forward to the allergist, but I have realized something; about a decade ago, I was in Chicago and got this hat and scarf, which were a gorgeous mix of cashmere and angora. So, long story short, a few short hours later, I had a burn line across my forehead with welts because I'm allergic to angora.

Angora is a type of rabbit.

Now granted, that's an entirely different type of fur, and yeah, I had rabbits after that, but allergies grow, like my one to nickel where I can't even wear surgical steel or anything that may have slept with nickel's mother's sister or knew it in high school. Also, this is why you have allergy meds and everything, but. That does mean I may need to actively look to rehome maybe one or two and reduce the population at least. BUT THAT IS FOR LATER.
I am currently debating whether I can pack and take my home server to Escapade. I'll talk myself into sanity soon, don't worry. Hopefully.

Home Automation

Anyone else here use SmartThings for home automation? I just finished coding my Bathroom Automation SmartApp in the IDE. It seems to be working--benefit of being a professional QA/QC/Program Tester is that you learn how to test things properly--but half of SmartThings users who customize moved over to WebCore, which I'd need at least a long weekend to sit down with and learn. So there is a lot less code scraps now that are less than two years old.

I like hand coding, though; it's soothing. But then there's this weirdness; I finished Bathroom Automation, which uses a motion sensor, a water sensor, and three lights, in like two days. This isn't my first try, though: a year ago, I tried and completely failed to make it work or even understand it.

maybe this is how I learn? )

Okay, that's super interesting, you say (if you actually read all that), but what does that have to do with SmartThings? Did you get distracted? Yes, but also, variables.

SmartThings uses Groovy. You don't declare your variables--no wait, you do. Because everything is a fucking variable.

because variables I guess? )

I have existential coding crises. It happens.

Below cut is the full bathroom automation script if you're curious what it looks like. Those that start with 'private' are apparenty standard SmartThings for certain options that you haev to add manually if you use either multiple pages or dynamic pages for your preferences.

bathroom automation v.1.3 )

Edited to add pre and code markup., roughly eighteen years or so after first hearing of it, I am finally going to [community profile] escapade_con!!!!! [personal profile] aerialiste graciously offered to let me room with her and holy shit it's been like, eight years since I went to a con!

Escapade, 2/22/2019-2/24/2019

So I will be in LA 2/21-2/26 if anyone wants to hang out or organize some erudite discourse on the nature of textual pornography over jello shots and cheese sticks. I do not insist on discourse or cheese sticks. Erudite jello shots are fine. I've actually never had one.
I've always wanted to do a "Rabbits: You Want One, Really?" entry for the layman, mostly because I bought all the books and the magazines and read the websites, but the most useful advice was stuff I found randomly eight pages deep on message boards or googling when official advice failed.

Really oddly, some of the best advice came from breeders of meat rabbits, which freaked me the fuck out.

random selection of useful knowledge, not complete )
I need a sanity check.

Anyone else with an 4K TV really notice the make-up everyone is wearing on TV shows from the eighties and nineties? I mean, the skin tones are eerily solid and way too flat (consistent?) for Troi, Guinan and even Worf, whereas Data and the Borg now really look like they're wearing pancake makeup.

...or am I going crazy?

I am in a re-reading place.

About once every year or two years, there are certain books/series/authors I have to re-read. I tend to enjoy most books that have a lot to work with and even better, ones that stand up to multiple readings. Even more importantly--and therefore rarer--ones that benefit from re-reading; things in early books seen again come together in new ways, and I like to see all the pieces that I didn't realize were important come together and how they started or bits I missed earlier

The length of time between really depends on the combination of mood + length; Goblin Emperor, for example, is a fast read, so every nine months roughly; Masters of Rome series by Colleen McCullough is every eighteen months to two years; Temeraire series by Naomi Novak is nine months to eighteen months in general. Which is where I am now, somewhat ahead of schedule, but in my defense, it was just kind of there on my kindle and I always get like this when recently exposed to Regency Romance.

Currently just got through the first three again and anticipating my next favorite, the Tswana. Having said that....


Ooh, this is exciting; I can ask for recs again!

Anyone have recs for Temeraire fic? I read some of it years ago when I first finished the series but Temeraire benefits hugely from re-reading for missed detail and connections and I am so in the mood.
So I have yet to rewrite the introduction post on how I acquired so many rabbits. In lieu, Bunny Files on tumblr.

quick update to that post )

Now, about the Seperis Warren!

Seperis Warren )

Living the rabbit life.

ETA: Augustus and Arsinoƫ have been returned to the Warren. Currently everything is in a sort-of armistice.
So, the last part of my week:

Wednesday - got home at six and found a notice from the manager that apartments would be inspected the next day.

Wednesday 7:00 PM - Thursday 8:00 AM - CLEANING

You are saying to yourself HOLY SHIT WHAT KIND OF NIGHTMARE STY DO YOU WALLOW IN? I make no excuse for my sheer lack of caring but not at the level of health violations or bugs. However, this wasn't the best time, it being All the Christmas Stuff Still Being Organized and Packed, Many Piles of Laundry Sorted For the Washer (I tend to do it in en masse when underwear becomes a concern), and the oven had recently undergone a gooey experience that was now char. Also, might have been a few dishes and...things.

(There was also Child's room, which the less spoken of, the better.)

There's also my totally-okay and electrically sound and somewhat sort of authorized kinda modifications to the light situation, which is uh, the addition of about twelve or maybe fourteen (fifteenish?) extra light fixtures because apartments just simply do not have enough lights for me, the only window in the living room is a giant sliding door where anyone can look inside from the road (you can look in and see my bedroom from the right angle) and my living room is painted a pale beige, which means there's literally no reflection and in fact sucks in light and I need light.

(I have three other windows: my room, Child's room, and the laundry nook. Not helpful.)

...and switching out two switches for wi-fi enabled so I could control them and the ceiling fan with SmartThings and Alexa.

(Because if it can be controlled by voice, I will make it happen.)

They showed up at 9:30 AM while I tried to look casual and immediately noted the rabbit house.

Questions about rabbits, feeding, and housing took longer than the goddamn inspection. Not gonna lie, it's a cool house but I hand-cleaned the baseboards (that maybe didn't need it) and no one even questioned the switch box or commented on the coolness of motion sensors in my closet, the hall closet, and the bathroom.

Or--you know, all the pendant lights and the sconce light and puck lights and LED light strip running an inch from the ceiling on a platform made out of hard plastic cord covers because I got creative or the routers installed at key points (because concrete and signal strength) or ethernet cable running everywhere know, normal things.

Like, yay rabbits? I'm not disappointed or anything, obviously, but I have to admit, of all the things you'd think someone coming in here would notice, all they saw were my rabbits.

OTOH, this does bode well if I say, decide to repaint this beige nightmare room white. So overall, I'm encouraged.

[personal profile] astolat posted: SignalBoost bookmarklet

Testing signalboost bookmarklet. Okay, this is cool.

Note: I love [personal profile] astolat and fandom. Just like a lot. Now I wonder how complicated it would be to create a fast form to single click post without going to the DW interface here.
Okay, this is a request for someone who knows DW's system and CSS; I am trying to update my layers and oh God it's a work in progress and i cannot find out how I moved my top links to the right.

This is, I admit, my own fault.

When I first got my DW, I went crazy with creating my own base layer for all pages, but that was when I was still doing CSS regularly. I am so rusty. I used the new core to create a new base with the same elements, but my own code is kind of screwing me because creating functions is fun for me. Even though I think some aren't needed anymore, I literally went through and customized each page and this is like coding hell.

If anyone wants to look at it and help, I'd appreciate it so much. It's what I put up now, because nothing will inspire me to actually work on it as being annoyed every time I look at my DW and see something wrong.

Also! If anyone sees problems when reading/commenting, tell me!
Child quit his job at Target, mostly due to a.) being interviewed and hired for lead position but them not giving it and b.) the new manager.

To give context, Child's worked there almost since he graduated high school (about three years) and he abruptly came to talk to me for the first time about quitting a month ago.

Me: Oh thank God. Go to school.
Him: ...not what I expected.

more stuff )
To DTA Agitators - I got the box! And I apologize; it took an extra week to get it from the office and a day to get to opening it completely. I meant to write this about a dozen times, but I wanted to do more than 'Thanks', and if I did a quick 'thanks' I'd never get to the long version (I do know myself).

Note: I am not sure if you want your names used or what usernames you'd like, so please tell me in comments if it's okay and what names to use.

This was literally the most thoughtful gift I've ever received in my life. The sheer amount of work and coordination kind of left me speechless.

First - I'm going to be honest, the best part was the thought involved in the accompanying quotes on each item. I mean the items were amazing, but adding fic quotes to each one for context was goddamn amazing. I keep trying to decide how to put it together somewhere, like with a scrapbook and pics??? I have never scrapbooked but by God I will learn.

Second - the letters were equally fantastic. I loved knowing about the origins, like the above.

Three - I have already been complimented on the jewelry. I literally bought a new shirt to go with the longer necklace because I thought the intricate work would show up better against a grey background and be noticed. Trust me, it was noticed; mostly 'how did they do that?" me: '....magic'.

Four - I am never in my life going to have cold feet again. I love the socks.

Five - the sheepapodes made me laugh out loud and traumatized Child.

Six - that box was amazing. I read the letter that came with it and am in awe because seriously you made that???????

Seven - the individual item boxes were amazing. See one above with the quotes.

I'll put up pics when my phone is charged. My phone is in late-stage slow-death of battery and I didn't realize how much until I started this entry and it was like at 2% and trying to die. There's a reason I bought a supplementary tablet.

I really don't say enough how much I appreciate all of you; many of you have become trusted friends and I love how many people have taken Down to Agincourt and made it their own.

I wrote it with literally no expectation of posting it; it was written to fit my tastes and expectations, things I thought were tailored for me and not many people would really be into or like. When I began to post, I never expected to get very many readers. I figured it would only appeal to those who matched me pretty closely on stories meant to be read more than once, ones with information that you can only find on re-read because you need later context; I find that fun personally, but I don't expect anyone else to. It's slow as fuck and I dropped the pace to a crawl for Book IV. Those were deliberate decisions, and not ones that I thought many would really want to try.

(It probably also didn't appeal to many when the first half of Book I was depressing as fuck.)

At no time did it ever occur to me so many people would not only read it and love it, but take it apart and rebuild it in their own image; how could I imagine that? I love comments and kudos and recs, don't get me wrong, but the highest compliment possible is when people read it, thought about it, and said "I can make something new out of this." It's the purest essence of transformative fandom; to write your own image into a story, to read the images of others. Every time someone posts something, they make the work better than it would have otherwise; you showed me something new I didn't see. And I thank you so much for that.
ST: TNG - did not remember this, how did I not remember this????

Season 7:
Holy mother of fuck, Dr. Soong built an android based on his wife????? Also, he never told her she was an android. He built her because his wife was killed and she has his wife's memories (from engram scannning????) and she has no idea. What kind of wtf is this?

...and she left him. Okay, then, I am shook and also creeped and also wtf and also touched? and still wtf creeped.
Watching Star Trek: TNG with Child who is utterly horrified by how very eighties all those future shoulder pads and love of neon are. Though we are now into fourth/fifth season and getting pre-nineties fashion which seems marginally less disturbing.
Allergies have decided I will never know joy again or an unstuffed nose. If anyone wants me, it is either at work half-conscious from non-working allergy medicine or on the couch, very unconscious from non-working allergy medicine.

Between this and my period, homicide might be on the table if I could like, move. Hating everything is so much less effective when it's punctuated with sneezing. It's terribly lowering.
Went to Trader Joe's for the first time with liliane and discovered deliciousness.

Except English muffins: these are not English muffins. They are tiny round hard white bread hamburger buns and normally this would not annoy me except I really wanted a toasted English muffin circa 1 AM and am feeling hate. The texture is wrong wrong wrong the grain is wrong, it's unnaturally hard instead of mildly chewy and I FEEL BETRAYED. Also, got lemons crossbred with mandarins and not sure what to do with that.

Also went to Tous les Jours bakery for French-Korean fusion baked goods and I made the mistake of a.) carrying more than $10 and b.) arriving right when they were bringing out fresh baked goods (c.) going in at all, was inevitable once within line of sight). I will not record for posterity anything but the chocolate ganache bread exists and holy shit I pity everyone who isn't me.
I am rewatching Venom and for the life of me, I can't figure out what they thought they were making or if they knew all along it was a romcom.

I thought people were exaggerating, and no, not even a little.
I have complaints. So. Many. But also just this one that rules them all.

We have new ID/keycards at work. Half the people reading this already know where this is going.

About a month ago they replaced the scanners with new improved ones that only work if you flash your card at a specific spot for an arbitrary amount of time, unlike the old ones that just let you flash your card and be done. We got used to that.

The new card requires you be a fucking wizard. There is no right angle, or correct area or anything; there is only trying at various distances and angles and levels of frustration until it briefly blips green and you can go in. Every. Scanner. Does. This. Some require nine to ten tries. Tech, dev, testers, admin, it matters not; none of us can use the goddamn door scanners. By now, someone should have gotten it on the first try; no one has.

So that was my day of low-grade frustration and rage because there is nothing more lowering that working tech in a building in which the tech is fighting us and winning.

Also of note: Child stockholmed me into watching more anime, now stuck in Seven Deadly Sins. I am seriously considering getting the manga. This can't be happening.
Jan. 2nd, 2019 11:49 pm


One month of entries, and yes, I played fast and loose with 'posting fic', I hit all goals.

Yay me!
The mental illness cute/real contrast/compare post got me thinking about the other side of that. In general, media has two modes when depicting mental illness: cute and fucking tragic (and Monk, which is kind of both). There's a real lack of 'mundane reality' aka 'living with mental illness is actually pretty fucking boring'. Yeah, there's the drama, but most of it is basically you and your best buddy, 'coping mechanisms'.

yeah, it just goes on for a while here. unless you're super into whatever this is, you can safely skip )

I forgot: this is the result of my second resolution, along with pork pie: I will actually talk about mental illness. I will also remember to laugh more about it.
I still have no resolutions.

I have one (1) champagne, one (1) sangria, one (1) wine (type: unknown), fries in the oven, hamburgers ready for the pan, whole wheat buns because yeah, that makes up for the salt, grease, mayo, and lack of vegetables, pepsi (no matter how much I try to develop a taste for alcohol, it's literally only attractive socially and special occasions, fuck my life), vape, six (6) rabbits, one (1) Child and no (0) resolutions.

Okay, one: I am going to finally make that complicated pork pie with the name I can't pronounce or spell because French, because ever since reading Great Expectations, I really need to know what the fuss is about pork pie.

Might add more as fries develop.
Once you hit three related stories, that's just a series; might as well own it.

The Forever King because I am going to run this theme into the ground and probably straight into Hell (I think it's funny). Includes The Once and Future King, In the Hall of the Mountain King, and All the King's Men now easily found together for those days you feel--I don't know the word but I wrote feeling it so there we are.

I am wondering if I should just throw in the relevant part of that chapter that started this for context; I keep worrying some poor person is going to stumble over this and be horrified without context.
I don't say this is my offering of guilt to DtA readers, because hey, I love this story, but--it is a little, which is of benefit to all. When I'm frustrated with the bullshit that is my mental health, I remember I've never had this much fun with my fic, and that helps.

Merry Insert Your Winter Holiday Here: I hope you're having a great time celebrating or loafing. Especially the loafing: that's what holidays are for.

Title: All the King's Men
Author: Seperis
Fandom: Supernatural
Codes: Dean/Castiel, OC, AU
Summary: This is Hell, and that's how they survive.
Notes: In my defense, I wanted to do another outsider pov. This is not what I expected, but well, it happened. Set after In the Hall of the Mountain King and that scene in Book IV, Chapter 10.
Warnings: well, it's set in Hell? Torture, violence, bloodplay, etc. About half is consensual, if that helps.
Checked over by Kel_hath_no_fury because she's awesome. I think I fixed everything.
AO3: All the King's Men

all the king's men )
Note to self: if the most popular reblog you ever make on tumblr compares men unfavorably to cats and vibrators, it's pretty much what you deserve.
I'm kind of boggling at the realization I can retire before I'm fifty-five if I really want to. I mean, possibly earlier if I really make an effort.

I have a list of things I want to do then: buy a house (I mean, I think?), build voice controlled indoor and outdoor fountains and breed koi and track their mutations, get an F-1 Savannah cat and walk it regularly while wearing heels and a leather trenchcoat, install in-wall cat 7 from attic to basement with outlets in all rooms, install cool light fixtures everywhere, design and build a server room, rewire every outlet in the house to be smart, build some Pi robots and race them, that kind of thing. I don't necessarily want home ownership but I'm resigned to the fact rental limits (somewhat) what you can do. As it turns out, my complex has reservations about my indoor fountain + koi idea. And maybe space, whatever, I can make space.

(Also, Savanna F-1s are sort of on the shady side of legal in cities, and you'd want your own home for that.)

On the other hand, it feels like this could end badly (uh, not the above shit, that's gonna be great). The not-working thing.

I cannot honestly think of a worse thing for me personally to do is stop working, and I don't mean just money, though there is that. A lot of it is the occupation aspect; yes, people always say 'hobbies' or 'travel' or 'gardening' (Oh God no) or whatever, but no, you don't understand how my brain works. Occupation isn't enough because I won't do it on the strength of 'mental health'; it has to fulfill the criteria of 'necessary' and boy is that one strict and you'd be surprised how little I consider 'necessary' when left to my own devices. Hint: it's kind of upsetting when I think about it too hard.

Occupation is my only usable defense against anxiety and depression; trust me, this has been tested more than it actually needed to be to be found true.

Regularly scheduled necessary work with a medium-to-high intellectual effort requirement is a must; occupation plus stimulation or God help whoever hires me. I mean, I am the person who when I worked fast food was doing cheese architectural design in the back or tried to improve the mayo-to-milk-ratio or made honestly terrifying hamburger-esque food designs that genuinely made my coworkers wonder about my sanity. When I was in retail, I kept trying to completely change the entire layout of the women's section surreptitiously because it didn't conform to logic (and it fucking doesn't to this day) and reorganizing vast numbers of shirt and then going to other people's sections to stealthily rearrange their work because frankly, it was wrong (but hide when they appeared, like bloodhounds, it was weird). It was creepy is what I'm saying. Somewhere in the world are two to ten former retail workers who tell stories about their creepy-ass coworker lurking around looking furtive and not to steal, no, that's normal, to rearrange things in their section.

The more strictly scheduled my life is, the better I do, and I do amazing when that scheduling allows very rare but highly prized blow-offs. It can be an effort to do things I want to do. Easiest way to assure regular personal interaction with me? Ruthlessly use guilt or make me buy plane tickets: investing money means 'necessary' and I will damn well go.

My conclusion to all of this? One, I probably need to work until I die and two, something I saw on twitter that I realized I needed: a life dom.

Not kinky sexual whatever but someone to order me to stop it with the default cheese sandwiches and make a meal involving vegetables, to do my laundry before it becomes a barrier I have to fight my way through, clean the bathroom before whatever that is achieves sentience, take the ground beef out of the refrigerator before I go to work, social interaction with another human being twice weekly, do ten minutes of timed math problems, thirty minutes of word games, an hour of watching TV minimum, then I can loaf. At which time I'll have hit my limit on getting orders and fuck you, I'm not going to loaf, I am going to invent new spreadsheets, bitch. All my problems solved! Especially my vicious revolt against someone in authority over me: God I miss that.

This would so work for me. I might even fit in making my bed with that kind of motivation. Maybe even with sheets, if I can ever find them.

Note: I should probably explain the math thing.

I really like math--I know--but I'm not really a natural at most of it, all things geometry are fucking alien, but at a certain level of abstract I'm golden. However, growing up, I'd absorbed girls were bad at math and predictably, reacted not well but productively. This led to accidental academic excellence, a weird fascination for complicated graphing problems, discovering a genuinely surprising aptitude for programming, but also, math tests.

Specifically, those timed math tests for simple addition/subtraction/multiplication/division we did in elementary school. The ones to make you stop counting on your fingers, you had like x minutes (or minute) to finish twenty problems to forty problems. His name was Travis and in third grade, he got to drink a bottle of Coke in class for having the fastest time and I never got over it. A part of me never will.

Then I found out (decades later): there's an app for that. An app of nothing but simple math problems and the speed of your fingers and timing, it's beautiful. I got the pro version, of course. It's super zen, no lie, and really good for clearing my head, but discovering all that was a super cool side effect because I had a purpose first and would not be swerved.

Short version, a couple of years ago I beat his time by five seconds. Probably one of the better days in my life. If the person who invented that app didn't have their own elementary-school coke-drinking Travis-shaped demons to exorcise, I'll be surprised.
Anyone available for a beta on a story. Fandom is Breakout Kings, involves maybe all the warnings (may eventually need to invent new warnings), but also a roadtrip across the greater US. It's--um, long, but also sectioned, and I'm only sending the primary plotline, not the kidnapping of the cannibal part when my id needed--that.

...that probably wasn't reassuring, no.

(I do have a Christmas present for DtA fandom that will be posted here, I just ran out of holiday time to clean it up after it was beta'ed. Before the first is my goal.)
So my phone pinged me eight times for the same tornado watch, all notifications from SmartThings and the Storm App. Like maybe I wasn't paying close attention to the weather, which actually is true. I'm on the bottom floor and my front door is technically one floor below the parking lot, while my porch on the other side is two-thirds of a floor above the main road in the complex, so what the highway doesn't drown out, the cocoon around this floor of solid concrete takes care of.

So yes, it's actually possible I could be hit by a tornado and wouldn't notice until I got wet or--more likely--I saw a drop of water on my laptop and panicked, went for a towel and noticed the lack of a building no longer around me. For reference, it was a couple of minutes ago I went outside to note hey, it's raining. From the look of outside, for some time, yeah.


The Magicians, Season Four, starts January 23, 2019. The first three seasons are available on Netflix for those who need an easy to fulfill New Year's resolution that rewards you with Eliot and Penny, who I should mention is another excellent to watch and is ungodly hot. If you're into hot guys who do magic and sometimes forget to wear a shirt; it may be an acquired taste, idk.
Child came home three days ago with a fancyish paper-wrapped bottle and presented it to me like it was straight from the Fountain of Youth.

It doesn't matter how old they get: slug, preserved rattlesnake head in a jar, cream of tartar, an unsettling amount of human hair, something you hope to God isn't a very squished mouse, wtf!!!!!, it's your kid giving you something and it's automatic, you don't even think about it: "Oh, cool."

I turned it over and admired the pink paper and tried to work out what this bottle was. Shape and size meant drink, greater than two, so I decided to give us a starting point. "So wine?"

He beams at me. "Yes."

This may sound counter-intuitive, but that kind of scared me. You don't live with Child his entire life, shape his mind and go to war over DVDs and crush on the same characters (secretly), negotiate our separate fannish presences and split social media up between us like ancient potentates and have literal hard rules like "Don't bury shit in the backyard before telling me what it is" and "No, you cannot clone me when you grow up, stop collecting my hair and cackling" before age twelve and most recently, "This is my last warning, I will write min ten thousand words of your NOTP, it will be bdsm porn, and I'll blackmail every friend I have to help. I've seen two episodes, I can extrapolate, now GIVE ME THE REMOTE I WANT TO WATCH BRITISH BAKEOFF." and not be aware the simplest explanation is always the most worrying and sometimes, may require poison control, a competent medium, or a local friend who would notice my sudden disappearance on speed dial (Hi [personal profile] lillian13!)

I looked over the pink-papered bottle a little frantically; yep, that was the right shape and size, fuck my life. And he won't. Stop. Smiling. "So--just curious, why did you get me wine?"

"I got us wine, Mommy."

Jesus Christ.

For context: using "Mommy" is the verbal equivalent of a literal summoning spell or a nuclear detonation and by design is guaranteed to elicit my undivided attention. It is only used in two situations: life or death pain and fear ("I think i summoned a demon, mommy." or "I SLAMMED MY ENTIRE HAND IN THE DOOR AND IT IS SWELLING MOMMY." or "I have a fever mommy, my temperature is 98.8.") or to really fuck with my head.

Parenthood is ride or die by design; here we go. "For what?"

"Tradition," he answers so promptly and with so much certainty that for a second, I believed him and wondered how I'd forgotten about the traditional bottle of wine three days before Christmas we did every year, weird, am I right. Then I remembered: uh, we don't. It's so annoying when the manipulation skills you so carefully taught your kid are used against you, but then again, he still carries a grudge for me convincing him for nearly ten years that he always liked spinach (when he was older, I'd sometimes say "spinach from Eurasia" and then he read 1984; yeah, that was cool) and he seriously needs to get over it.

"We don't have a traditional bottle of wine for Christmas," I said, settling back to wait, because it occurred to me he'd been squirrely about his tinder and that shit may need alcohol first.

In general, I don't know and don't want to because dear God no, but as I told him, if he was kidnapped and mutilated by a serial killer or worse, had a really bad date with a guy from south Austin who owns a basement and a lot of anime, would he like the police to start the search with "I have no idea where he was going to go when he left at 6" or "His two o'clock AM check in was that bar on Fifth Street", his choice. So generally, I get a text when he has a dramatic location or group change, because it's not like we didn't both watch all the seasons of Criminal Minds.

The tinder thing however, is specific: if you didn't see my twitter about this a bit back, short version: tinder date at the drag show, he went to talk to the performers after, forgot his date--literally forgot that poor guy at their table--to go party with the drag queens and had a great time. His check in to me was "Kidnapped by drag queens" me "K", then I remembered his date and asked about it and as it turns out, he was surprised to realize he'd had one of those earlier and wasn't entirely sure where he'd been lost.

(Spoiler: There was no second date.)

"We do now," Child tells me, taking the bottle back. "We'll drink it on Christmas night."

At this moment, Child is hanging out with some friends from high school who don't celebrate Christmas so is getting fed an indecent amount of kosher-compliant/halal-compliant/vegan-compliant Chinese food and knows for a fact he doesn't get back into the apartment unless he brings me some too. I also keep looking at the refrigerator, where a pink-paper wrapped bottle of wine waits like a concrete example of the concept of foreshadowing; this shit has haunted me for three days and the worst part is?

It's just a bottle of wine. It means nothing. He just thought it would be funny.

I'm so proud of him.

Happy Insert Winter Holiday of Your Choice!
I'm going to tell you now; this is going to be the most boring post you can imagine. Just warning you; if you're out of valium, keep reading, I'm here for you.

I'm about to do my semi-annual update of my Pandora playlists, which is always fraught and weird, because in general, I have to make a new playlist entirely and that means starting with a new base. Eventually, each playlist hardens, and I may love most of the songs there now, for reasons every new song they play on one of those I will now hate.

So: new playlist, new base, and the old way--not efficient--was to go through my bought music (and...not so very bought), find the ones that combine showing up on mulitple writing playlists, grab the last five I downloaded from my Amazon subscription, and create the base from those. In general, this meant Pandora would get me new music that matched my taste, but burnout still happened; eventually, it would harden and stop giving me anything.

Which makes no sense: this is a meticulously self-curated list by me combined with an algorithm by experience I know works. And yet, the hardening, every time. Which means I have to retire a playlist--not delete--for a while before I can listen it for anything but long walks.

But here's the thing: about two thirds of the songs I don't like as it turns out I love and will die for, but not if I hear them on one of those playlists. I have to hear them somewhere else.

Examples: I hated Mumford and Sons, every song, and yet, at this moment, I have the better part of an album of them and the gold standard is four songs from an artist. Same with Florence and the Machine, Broods, Metric, Imagine Dragons, Andrew McMahon: all of them, at one time or another, got thumb-the-fuck-down in Pandora--I checked this--until I heard them in a different context. Vids are a really good way but a goddamn trailer or commercial or in a store or the mall or while surfing youtube when I am bored enough to hate myself.

There are some obvious explanations--vidding, for example, is a translation, and some songs just work by association even if they're not generally to my taste. Which I think is the explanation: for reasons unclear, this song is outside my hardened playlist, and that means my taste has hardened unacceptably and it's time for a full reboot.

This is why the playlist update has to happen, no exceptions. Hardened taste atrophies your ear; you only hear noise. That way ends with hating everything not made after 1979 or 1989 (...please tell me those people don't exist) or 1999, pick a year. Which is ridiculous because who the fuck wants to miss My Chemical Romance and the Dixie Chicks and Beyonce, are you crazy? It blows my mind; no, I don't love everything in the top one hundred, but I never loved everything in the top 100, but I guarantee you thirty I won't mind listening to, ten I like and one I will love. I honestly have yet to find a genre I hate; I may not love it, but there is always several that I like, and one thing I love.

You know that feeling you get with some songs; it's like getting a hard hit of something seriously good and likely illegal except it's better. It almost hurts; you put it on repeat one and play it forever, you hear it when you're going to sleep, your walk matches the beat. No song can do it forever, but that's the point; if I want it, I have to chase it.

It's not just music, though; it's everywhere, but it's not something you get sitting still; you have to chase it and sometimes, you have to be willing to run. It's when I'm coding and suddenly, all the pieces come together and I compile and run and it's perfect; when I'm writing and the words I was fighting flow together and become a scene, a story; when I read something--it can be the whole book, a page, a paragraph, a single line, and it stops me short because I forgot to breathe; a speech I heard once did it, that was weird; when I was lead in two plays, and the second one, at the end, everyone stood up; every basketball game I ever played and the time I got second in the four hundred that I didn't even know I was supposed to run and I almost blacked out when I reached the finish line.

Like, for that second, I get what it must have been like at the cusp of Creation, the vastness of infinite nothing. One command, given to infinity, and the first light to exist illuminated the universe in the form of newborn stars across an infant universe; this is everything. What a fucking rush.

The universe is in infinite expansion and everything is out there and we have so little time; you can't stop, not for a second. You're going to have to chase it down, and sometimes, you're going to have to run.
"Some people, when they're hurt...they remember the challenge. They grab hold of the fire once, and when they're burned, they make plans, trying to figure out how to hold live coals. [...] But some of us remember the pain. You're like that. You remember the pain, and you flinch." -- The Heiress Effect by Courtney Milan

Dear Courtney,

I do not read romance or Romance to have profound fucking enlightenment at ten at night. That shit came out of nowhere; what the hell? You remember the pain and you flinch, what were you thinking? You get that shit is going to haunt me at two in the morning for the rest of my life?

This is why no one trusts Romance. Sure, you promise us well dressed men riding horses in the rain and rescuing us from Gretna Green before marrying that bounder and ruining our reputation, and then LIFE LESSON before we even lose our virginity in that convenient barn. It's bullshit.


Note: until I posted Agincourt, no one had ever called me "Sep". The first time I saw it, I loved it; it's so sharp. "Sep" is ten thousand times better than 'jenn', not least because not a literal million people aren't also using it.

Funny story on that; Child was trying to get my attention for reasons (I was ignoring him because it's good for him or I was uh, reading porn, mayyyybe Sam/Dean because nostalgia) and he went through the litany of names and belatedly, I stopped and said "...did you just say 'Seperis'?"

Him: *smug* Got your attention.

Well played, Child.

At some point, I anticipate someone at work saying "Jenn" and I absently correct them to "Seperis". I come from a long line of people who forgot their own wallet names by sheer dint of no one ever calling them that. I'm not sure they even used my dad's wallet name at his funeral. I mean, in theory, they had to have, but I don't remember hearing it.
I reviewed the first three books of the series The Others, which was Anne Bishop's third series, unconnected to the id-tascular beauty of the Black Jewels which if you haven't read, I don't know what to say, it's insane with canonical cock-rings used to control and torture men OR they wear because it honors their queen.

This has nothing to do with that series, but I take every opportunity to try and get more people to read Black Jewels (did I mention some of the main characters are named Lucivar, Daemon, Saetan, and Surreal? And leather pants for men to show off their goods are canonical? CANONICAL LEATHER PANTS).

Okay fine, getting back: The Others series is her third series and Lake Silence is a one-off in this world. I liked the series--though with so many wtfs, but I also like that, too--but this is one of those times if you're not feeling 'read a five book series first' then go to wikipedia because this is really fun.

Lake Silence has everything I liked about the series and all the stuff that got on my nerves isn't in here. Specifically, it minimizes Bishop's weird and inexplicable desire to make the reader believe superpowered terra indigene (earth natives who were created before humans and who take many forms like werewolves, elementals, and vampires) who own all the land and water and feed on humanity and mass kill them not infrequently are super, super oppressed by the bad humans because they...get made fun of and sometimes, humans fight back?

It's more complicated than that except everything I just said is also true. In other words, you have to be willing to go with it, and it's worth it, but you do at times stop and want to explain to the terra indigene what 'learned helplessness' is and also, where they learned it because it wasn't from humans. Because yeah, the humans do shitty things to the terra indigene but so do the terra indigene and also eat humans add to that do mass extinction events on human groups so really? Like, in book it makes sense for short periods of time and then you just stop and go "...oh come on."

Lake Silence does not make an effort to convince us of the non-existent institutional oppression of the terra indigene (they..are the institution for fuck's sake), but instead scales this back to one area and group and plots within plots and crime and so much fun stuff with what should have been the point: the coolness of shapeshifters and humans and human-adjacent living in towns, running businesses with names based on puns, and solving murders, wheee.

lake silence )
Dec. 21st, 2018 04:50 pm


Thirty minutes ago I got off work early, excited for five day vacation for Christmas, listing in my head on my walk home ALL THE THINGS I could do today.

I have now spent ten minutes staring blankly at my laptop, my tv, and my phone in turn unable to decide what to do.

This is going to end with me surfing wikipedia, I just know it. Somehow.
For those wondering: cookies were made!

For those that weren't wondering or even knew this was a subject (everyone): The Magicians. We're a month away from season four and it's time to navel gaze. Not much though, as I'm still recovering from Eliot's latest pic of looking like an ironically emo heroin addicted hipster. His eyeliner alone....

Right. If you have not seen it, it's on Netflix and you really need to see it.

Short version: first seven episodes, you may get into it despite this or hate it because of these two things (probably other stuff, but these were my "if Eliot wasn't so hot I'd be out of here...Eliot's breathing again nm". No spoilers but food for thought if you go.

1.) You're going to keep getting distracted by obvious plotholes.

They aren't plotholes.

2.) You feel like you missed some crucial scenes that should connect some of this.

You didn't; see 1.

mild spoiler )

almost forgot: trigger warning )

ETA: Comments include more of trigger above.
I came home at six, woke at eight from a nap, and then realized I need to bake 6 to 8 dozen cookies for work tomorrow and I am missing many of the basic elements of cookies like most of it. have not known fear until you are racing the clock to get your Prime shipment in for the 10-12 under the wire. See, I am the organizer of the Great Cookie Exchange, so I kind of have to bring cookies and also pretend I'm responsible.

And the worst part? I can't even eat peanut butter out of the jar because I need it for the cookies.
So for years I adamantly and totally refused to watch Parks and Recreation because by policy, I don't watch shows about people in public service for any reason, especially comedies. I have yet to see one that wasn't baseline mean.

(Though honestly, dramas are worse.)

Not by design, either; that's what made it frustrating, because public service is absurd. They just didn't get why. It's like someone who wanted to make a good cake but hasn't seen one and only had a list of ingredients and a blurry picture to work from. And they didn't know how to bake but had once heard their mom talk about an oven and though she meant the microwave type.

So imagine my shock when I was in Netflix and flipped it on for background noise and then accidentally six of seven seasons. Truthfully, I can't tell you what this did differently except maybe everything?

parks and recreation more meta than spoilery )

Personal Note: The story of the TANF workers above? This actually ended up super-personal.

oh the tangled webs we weave when we don't lie and are kind of excitable )
...and my dash just had a fourteen minute dead drop in activity. That was weird.
God, tumblr is like a wake right now.

No, I mean German-Czech-Polish-influenced wakes in Central Texas.

You know: funeral, everyone brings casseroles and barbecue and sausage back to the house and cries, beer starts at two (because barbecue), subtle margarita transition by three, and then everyone's like fuck it and the cases of Wild Turkey and Crown Royal come out, triple strength margaritas are mixed, and the Great Aunts and Weird Cousin unpack the equivalent of two liquor cabinets from the back of the truck.

Ten minutes in: everyone talks about the shitty church hat Aunt F wore with a segue into how she banged Uncle F's brother and the deceased who is totally a saint except actually what did happen with his first wife in California? Related SomefuckingHow J goes off on everyone but in Czech, one to three grandmothers tell their husbands they're shitty lays and always have been, Great Great Great Aunt who still speaks fluent German drags out eight decades of family warfare, and if the original participants are dead, their kids, grandkids and great-grandkids pick up the standard, and you find out your first cousin's biological father may now be something of a question mark. Also, Mom and Aunt hate each other and express it with broken glasses after two shots but six shots later are sobbing their apologies into each other's arms.

Four fights between married couples, four to eight cases of dramatically ugly crying (half will be men), and by nine, all the women eighteen and older are in the backyard with giant sour pickles on sticks waving them in the faces of men who may or may not be passed out, there's no way to tell. Police stop by at ten-thirty and ten minutes before midnight, then everyone takes a breather before a quick liquor run, craps, and poker until four, and hugs it out before going home.

(God, I miss those days; it was great. )

Yeah, that's tumblr right now.

Personal Note: I always looked forward to the day I'd be grown up enough to get drunk and tell Aunt B exactly what I knew about why she took that job in my parent's bar and also, i know she stole my good calligraphy paper when I was twelve and I would never, ever be over it. But no: in these degenerate days, everyone talks quietly and respectfully, leaves a casserole or platter from Chick-Fil-A, and then goes home to Netflix. It's bullshit.

Personal Note #2: ...the pickles, yeah.

This isn't actually as random as it sounds; throw a stone at a rural Texas bar, and you'll hit an industrial size glass jar of giant pickles. I do know where these came from: my parents bought gigantic jars of super-size sour pickles, pickled pigs feet, and pickled eggs in bulk for their bar because that's the preferred meal of drunk farmers, so on a guess, they were in the trunk of the car.

...what I don't know is the exact series of events that led to fifteen women to twenty women between the ages of eighteen and ninety putting giant pickles on sticks and running around the backyard or what it meant (though considering the size of those pickles, I have some theories). Being the second youngest of the teen group (fifteen), I just followed the lead of the others as we watched our direct ancestors be crazy and contemplate the existential horror of our collective future. (I was a very dramatic child.)

However, to clarify: the pickle thing wasn't standard for funerals, it came out of nowhere.

I feel like I lost the thread of this entry somehow, but I'm not sure exactly where.


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If you don't send me feedback, I will sob uncontrollably for hours on end, until finally, in a fit of depression, I slash my wrists and bleed out on the bathroom floor. My death will be on your heads. Murderers.
--unknown, BTS list

That's why he goes bad, you know -- all the good people hit him on the head or try to shoot him and constantly mistrust him, while there's this vast cohort of minions saying, We wouldn't hurt you, Lex, and we'll give you power and greatness and oh so much sex...

Wow. That was scary. Lex is like Jesus in the desert.
--pricklyelf on why Lex goes bad

Obi-Wan has a sort of desperate, pathetic patience in this movie. You can just see it in his eyes: "My padawan is a psychopath, and no one will believe me; I'm barely keeping him under control and expect to wake up any night now to find him standing over my bed with a knife!"
--Teague reviewing "Star Wars: Attack of the Clones"

Beth: god, why do i have so many beads?
Jenn: Because you are an addict.
Jenn: There are twelve step programs for this.
Beth: i dunno they'd work, might have to go straight for the electroshock.
Jenn: I'm not sure that helps with bead addiction.
Beth: i was thinking more to demagnitize my credit card.
--AIM, 12/24/2003

I could rape a goat and it will DIE PRETTIER than they write.
--AIM, anonymous, 2/17/2004

In medical billing there is a diagnosis code for someone who commits suicide by sea anenemoe.
--AIM, silverkyst, 3/25/2004

Anonymous: sorry. i just wanted to tell you how much i liked you. i'd like to take this to a higher level if you're willing
Eleveninches: By higher level I hope you mean email.
--LJ, 4/2/2004

silverkyst: I need to not be taking molecular genetics.
silverkyst: though, as a sidenote, I did learn how to eviscerate a fruit fly larvae by pulling it's mouth out by it's mouthparts today.
silverkyst: I'm just nowhere near competent in the subject material to be taking it.
Jenn: I'd like to thank you for that image.
--AIM, 1/25/2005

You know, if obi-wan had just disciplined the boy *properly* we wouldn't be having these problems. Can't you just see yoda? "Take him in hand, you must. The true Force, you must show him."
--LJ, Issaro, on spanking Anakin in his formative years, 3/15/2005

Aside from the fact that one person should never go near another with a penis, a bottle of body wash, and a hopeful expression...
--LJ, Summerfling, on shower sex, 7/22/2005

It's weird, after you get used to the affection you get from a rabbit, it's like any other BDSM relationship. Only without the sex and hot chicks in leather corsets wielding floggers. You'll grow to like it.
--LJ, revelininsanity, on my relationship with my rabbit, 2/7/2006

Smudged upon the near horizon, lapine shadows in the mist. Like a doomsday vision from Watership Down, the bunny intervention approaches.
--LJ, cpt_untouchable, on my addition of The Fourth Bunny, 4/13/2006

Rule 3. Chemistry is kind of like bondage. Some people like it, some people like reading about or watching other people doing it, and a large number of people's reaction to actually doing the serious stuff is to recoil in horror.
--LJ, deadlychameleon, on class, 9/1/2007

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then Fan Fiction is John Cusack standing outside your house with a boombox.
-- Tweeted by JRDSkinner

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  • Style: New White V.2 for White Spaces v.2
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