Tuesday, December 14:
I had disrupted sleep, but I was still discovering my new piece of shiny shiny tech. As one does, I immediately ran headfirst into all of the problems therewith. As one does. I complained on Twitter, and gave and received help with the rest of my technical brethren.
That was also the day when SOUTH CAROLINA became a TMI thing. You sort of had to be there. (Someone asked Cassie if there would be "SC" in some upcoming book. This resulted in some puzzled attempting-to-figure-out-what-that-meant, and people arriving at South Carolina, the state. Then SOUTH CAROLINA as a destination became innuendo. There was a long and hilarious conversation which just kept getting sillier and sillier. Eventually the person who had asked about "SC" clarified that she'd meant "Sexual Content".)
Wednesday, December 15:
8:24 AM 12/15/2010
History is made up of the little narratives as well as the big ones. "A Fire in My Belly" was ripped out of a Smithsonian exhibit. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/12/opinion/12rich.html
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rm linked to that, and shared her own story of those years and their influence on her.
My comment: ( Read more... )
Sometimes, you have to do things you might not otherwise do. Because of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sithjawa, I licked George. She tastes plasticky.
I wound up catching up on some of my journaling backlog.
My aunt and I were plotting to meet up in the afternoon for editing. However, her garden was calling her, and it was going to rain. So I came over for dinner instead. She had a new kitchen toy: the beer can turkey roaster. She used a glass of beer instead of a can, because she wasn't happy about beer can paint at high temperatures. (I warned her off using the DDP that she somehow had around, because of artificial sweeteners at high temperatures.) Sadly, since she was gardening, she left it in too long, and feared it was dry.
"I could go pick up a can of gravy," my dear sweet uncle offered.*
My aunt looked at him in shock and horror, and asked, "Do you want me to make gravy? Because I can."
"I wouldn't want to put you out, and canned --"
"Not a bother at all, I don't mind making gravy. I love making gravy! ...Canned!?!?!"
"I just thought--"
"Gravy!" I said cheerfully. "What a thoughtful idea, $UNCLE! $AUNT, would you like me to start a roux?"
You could see my aunt's brain click over as she realized that oh right, the intent there had been helpful, and she did like making gravy! And peace was restored.
* Most dialogue approximate.
I hear tell that sometimes they do communicate effectively and even without words, like the time with the old couch when the little hellions** were jumping all over it. Sometimes, though... heh. :D
** My cousins were sometimes wild.
I carved while she made the gravy. Dinner was tasty. I showed off George. Then we looked at the 35 page document from the leader of the local dog training collective for four hours.
We planned for Farmers' Market in the morning.
Thursday 10:16 PM 12/16/2010
Not so much with my Thursday plans. Instead of being out like a light the moment I got home, I was trying to fall asleep -- then out like a light at 6:30am.
Big news of the day -- Delicious is getting "sunset" treatment from Yahoo. ( Read more... )
I signed up for Moodscope, on the premise that something unmonitored will not improve (one of Bob's aphorisms), and immediately felt my mood tank: they forced a M/F choice. When there's the option for none, or other, I often happily pick F, because it's the best average description. But by forcing everyone to choose, I get annoyed. My mood registered 27/100 when I checked it right after. The following day, it was up to a much more reasonable 60ish. (Anything over 75 there would require an amazingly good day; a full 100% would mean I was actually full-on hypomanic. So their scoring is broken for me.)
Saturday, December 18:
Good Fucking Riddance, DADT.
Shoes became a topic of screaming temper tantrum rage, brought on by belated contemplation of having gotten a cute pair of shoes and had them hurt too much to keep, and other related things stored back in the back of my brain.
2:33 PM 12/19/2010, Sunday
Today: various householdery.
Wrote to Moodscope about their gender thing.
Wrote code tour: http://dw-dev.dreamwidth.org/78180.html
Cooked curry for the first time ever. I'd been meaning to! I had a perfect squash! I had a brick of curry sauce! I had a can of coconut milk! Not to mention the onion and potatoes. So I combined all those things with a bit of bacon grease, butter, and vinegar (in a more coherent order) and lo. There was curry. And I put it atop rice. And it was delicious. And I still have some left. It's amazingly mild. I think my proportions were off.
I had disrupted sleep, but I was still discovering my new piece of shiny shiny tech. As one does, I immediately ran headfirst into all of the problems therewith. As one does. I complained on Twitter, and gave and received help with the rest of my technical brethren.
That was also the day when SOUTH CAROLINA became a TMI thing. You sort of had to be there. (Someone asked Cassie if there would be "SC" in some upcoming book. This resulted in some puzzled attempting-to-figure-out-what-that-meant, and people arriving at South Carolina, the state. Then SOUTH CAROLINA as a destination became innuendo. There was a long and hilarious conversation which just kept getting sillier and sillier. Eventually the person who had asked about "SC" clarified that she'd meant "Sexual Content".)
Wednesday, December 15:
8:24 AM 12/15/2010
History is made up of the little narratives as well as the big ones. "A Fire in My Belly" was ripped out of a Smithsonian exhibit. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/12/opinion/12rich.html
rm linked to that, and shared her own story of those years and their influence on her. My comment: ( Read more... )
Sometimes, you have to do things you might not otherwise do. Because of
sithjawa, I licked George. She tastes plasticky. I wound up catching up on some of my journaling backlog.
My aunt and I were plotting to meet up in the afternoon for editing. However, her garden was calling her, and it was going to rain. So I came over for dinner instead. She had a new kitchen toy: the beer can turkey roaster. She used a glass of beer instead of a can, because she wasn't happy about beer can paint at high temperatures. (I warned her off using the DDP that she somehow had around, because of artificial sweeteners at high temperatures.) Sadly, since she was gardening, she left it in too long, and feared it was dry.
"I could go pick up a can of gravy," my dear sweet uncle offered.*
My aunt looked at him in shock and horror, and asked, "Do you want me to make gravy? Because I can."
"I wouldn't want to put you out, and canned --"
"Not a bother at all, I don't mind making gravy. I love making gravy! ...Canned!?!?!"
"I just thought--"
"Gravy!" I said cheerfully. "What a thoughtful idea, $UNCLE! $AUNT, would you like me to start a roux?"
You could see my aunt's brain click over as she realized that oh right, the intent there had been helpful, and she did like making gravy! And peace was restored.
* Most dialogue approximate.
I hear tell that sometimes they do communicate effectively and even without words, like the time with the old couch when the little hellions** were jumping all over it. Sometimes, though... heh. :D
** My cousins were sometimes wild.
I carved while she made the gravy. Dinner was tasty. I showed off George. Then we looked at the 35 page document from the leader of the local dog training collective for four hours.
We planned for Farmers' Market in the morning.
Thursday 10:16 PM 12/16/2010
Not so much with my Thursday plans. Instead of being out like a light the moment I got home, I was trying to fall asleep -- then out like a light at 6:30am.
Big news of the day -- Delicious is getting "sunset" treatment from Yahoo. ( Read more... )
I signed up for Moodscope, on the premise that something unmonitored will not improve (one of Bob's aphorisms), and immediately felt my mood tank: they forced a M/F choice. When there's the option for none, or other, I often happily pick F, because it's the best average description. But by forcing everyone to choose, I get annoyed. My mood registered 27/100 when I checked it right after. The following day, it was up to a much more reasonable 60ish. (Anything over 75 there would require an amazingly good day; a full 100% would mean I was actually full-on hypomanic. So their scoring is broken for me.)
Saturday, December 18:
Good Fucking Riddance, DADT.
Shoes became a topic of screaming temper tantrum rage, brought on by belated contemplation of having gotten a cute pair of shoes and had them hurt too much to keep, and other related things stored back in the back of my brain.
2:33 PM 12/19/2010, Sunday
Today: various householdery.
Wrote to Moodscope about their gender thing.
Wrote code tour: http://dw-dev.dreamwidth.org/78180.html
Cooked curry for the first time ever. I'd been meaning to! I had a perfect squash! I had a brick of curry sauce! I had a can of coconut milk! Not to mention the onion and potatoes. So I combined all those things with a bit of bacon grease, butter, and vinegar (in a more coherent order) and lo. There was curry. And I put it atop rice. And it was delicious. And I still have some left. It's amazingly mild. I think my proportions were off.
