kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
Hello! You are a person! You are probably lovely! I like people!

This journal ends up being a bit of a mix of Srs Business (rants; things I've learned from counselling; &c), fannish & scientific joy, linkspams, poetry, & misc life updates. I tag fairly compulsively, though not always helpfully; I use content notes; I have written up a cast of characters; I aim to maintain this as a safer space, and appreciate (but do not expect!) call-outs when I mess up.

I like it if you introduce yourself when you subscribe, but it's definitely not required. Probably 30% of this journal is access-locked; I give access very readily. Fanworks are always public; AO3 is the canonical place to find my list of works. I'm very happy for you to link to anything that's public, and I'll be even happier if you let me know you're doing it. :-)

Welcome!

permanent wishlist -- care & feeding () -- contact info ()


[archiveofourown.org profile] kaberett -- at the LashBlog -- [ravelry.com profile] kaberett -- BPAL.org -- kabe@rett.org.uk

\o/

Sep. 4th, 2015 08:08 pm
kaberett: Toph making a rock angel (toph-rockangel)
1. About twenty minutes ago I thought something to the effect of "hmm, okay, I want to do something intellectually engaging this evening, now what sha-- HOLY SHIT MY ANTIDEPRESSANTS ARE WORKING." This is a glimmer as yet, but thank fuck. PHQ-9. ) I'll have been at 30mg for two weeks come Sunday.

2. Woolstack continue absolutely brilliant - the colourway I'd asked them to special-order came in today, and Lisa-who-seems-to-handle-communications-at-least-with-me sent me photos of all ten skeins so that I could tell her which of them I wanted for my specific project. (And then in the follow-up e-mail commented enthusiastically on how good my chosen colours looked together!) They're going in the post Monday - I just missed today's post - whereupon I'll be able to start making the skyscape shawls.

3. In related news, I am utterly baffled that my quick and dirty picspam of those shawls is the most popular thing I've ever put on tumblr by, like, two orders of magnitude. (I mention this in part because it's picked up another 150 notes in the past 24 hours.)

4. Braided nylon hoses for track pumps exist. I have contacted the UK importer for the pump I currently own asking if there's an appropriate part; if not I'll sell it on ebay (resale value high) and buy myself one of the brand that manufactures the hoses I got linked to, because holy shit being able to top up my tyres without worrying about allergen exposure. ♥_♥ (Context for those of you missing it: I've gone and done that thing where it's super easy to develop a contact allergy to latex, and it's easier still if you've got a bunch of other misc autoimmune/autoinflammatory bullshit going on. The hose on my current pump is latex, which is A Pity. This is additionally the context for the one-line story about The Time I Made An Unauthorised Purchase Of Latex-Free Gloves Using A NASA Grant.)

5. Food! Read more... )
kaberett: A cartoon of wall art, featuring a banner reading "NO GLORY SAVE HONOR". (no glory save honour)
  1. CN: abortion; suicide. Read more... )
  2. We are all of us sinners, and as tempting as it is to believe that it's possible to devise a timeless set of rules that if followed precisely will keep us pure, unblemished, etc, unfortunately the world's a bit more complicated than that and you're going to have to think and you're going to have to make decisions and you're going to have to act according to your lights as best you know how having assimilated and contemplated information being fed you; following rules without heart does no-one any good, but just because no single set of rules that will work absolutely in all cases exists does not mean that you don't have to try, or that it's okay to not wash your hands. Compare and contrast: we're all *ist, there's no single absolute set of rules that applies in all situations, you've got to think critically about what you're doing and act as best you can work out, ...
kaberett: Malachite structure strongly resembling cock & balls (geococks)
Er, kab, said [personal profile] sgsabbage after my last post on the topic, do you actually like Frank Turner? I can't tell.

Well, something to that effect.

AHAHAHAHAHA, I said.

[personal profile] swaldman noted he'd liked I Still Believe (iirc) when it was performed at the 2012 Olympics opening ceremony, or something (I was actually completely oblivious to the fact the guy was performing at that point, but then I was kind of screamingly crazy and also in Edinburgh at the time), but hadn't particularly cared for the others or found them memorable.

And that, you see, is the crux of the matter, and it is this: Frank Turner has written one good song and a lot of variations on it, and he's also written a lot of intensely misogynist bro-y crap. (For my go-to example of the latter, look up the lyrics to Worse Things Happen At Sea, which has content notes for threats of stalking and domestic violence.)

The good song, to be clear, is I Still Believe, and all the songs that sound like it: the rock-anthem paeans to holding fierce & tight & viciously exulting to life (let's grab life by the throat/and then live it to pieces), with an endearingly misguided veneer of assertions that any of this shit is meaningfully punk rock. It's misogynist around the edges, because fundamentally there is absolutely no fucking way I would last longer than five minutes in a pub with this guy before I was yelling at him that the fucking reason he's stuck on I have to say that, honestly,/I still haven't found/the person who can take the strain/.../so I'll do this on my own is that he's straight and he doesn't think of women as people, and he doesn't want a partner he wants a Manic Pixie fucking Dream Girl, and perhaps if he could think of higher praise than Tre's the safest girl I know and if he could conceive of women having complex interiorities with motivations beyond being the addressee of but darling, if you're there, gentle voice and soothing hands,/to quiet my despair, to shore up all my plans he'd have more satisfying relationships--

-- all that aside, right, I Still Believe, and here's a run-down of its variants.
Read more... )

But seriously there are so many other people you could spend time and money on instead. The Indelicates, obviously, though they don't particularly do much of a line in grimly-clinging-on-to-positivity-rock-anthems (and the one they have written I can't share with you, sorry, but they're perfect anyway and you should listen to them); Freshlyground (start with Doo Be Doo and Air Hostess); Matt Fishel, particularly Testament (NSFW music video; it's ok to keep your head held high/and it's ok to doubt yourself sometimes/and it's ok to fall in love), and if you're into Orphan Black please watch this then tell me that Felix isn't into the guy; Muncie Girls (Feel It Soon); everything by ONSIND. Yeah.
kaberett: Clyde the tortoise from Elementary, crawling across a map, with a red tape cross on his back. (elementary-emergency-clyde)
What I'm feeling towards here, I think, is something along the lines of willingness to assume good faith, and trust in minimally adequate competence.

To some extent that's a bare minimum for reconciliation, but I think that while it's necessary for said it's not sufficient; for reconciliation I'd need a more active than passive motivation, which is not the case for this definition I'm proposing. It's a slightly more formalised version of "you won't hurt me again" (as equal parts prediction and instruction; the saying makes it so), I think, in a way that lets me sit with and accept past hurt without requiring me to cross-reference all current patterns against it in a hypervigilant attempt to avert (perceived) disaster.
kaberett: Toph making a rock angel (toph-rockangel)
1. I've dealt with two scary e-mails this evening.

2. DW work! Cackling with [personal profile] azurelunatic over spite-driven development, updating the list of babydev bait in [site community profile] dw_dev_training, staring in horror at the codebase a bit but then writing a fix that seems (after very cursory testing) to largely behave as intended (so I have submitted a PR so [staff profile] karzilla can tell me to nest conditions instead of replacing them). (The horror in question: the if-statement that determines whether notifications of new entries/comments/whatever provide http or https links? Currently lives in LJ::User::Styles. NOPE NOPE NOPE.)

3. Bimbling about my mother's garden this evening; I've got a box or so of blackberries to take back to London with me, my hands still smell of Liebstoeckel, and I got to eat ripe raspberries and figs straight off their respective plants.

4. Three games of Scrabble with my mother over the past few days! And it is sort of telling that they just went, unlike the last several months, which strongly suggests that this round of antidepressant is starting to work properly. (I normally score 350-400ish. Game the first: opened with three bingos, ended up scoring over five hundred slightly to my surprise. Game the second: I remain extremely pleased about GAZeTTED for 92 and WASH/Ski/Ham for 50ish, finishing comfortably over 400 and on a tie prior to sorting out deductions. Game the third: actually significantly more lacklustre scorewise, but I was still pleased at getting out with OO/bOa/rOte for 15.)

5. I picked up beads for the shawls on Tuesday, and have been cooing gently over them ever since. They are tactile and pleasing and I am making a scientific joke with them that I find far, far too amusing.

6. Cambridge-Oxford-Cambridge over 5 days is actually a really sensible way to spend time: it means middle brother and I aren't in the same building for more than 48 hours at a stretch, which means that we don't hit him actually starting to set me off badly but we do get a high incidence background neutral-to-positive interactions.

7. Lovely grounding restorative reassuring extended conversation with [personal profile] sebastienne this afternoon once I'd finally dragged myself out of bed. I have more of a sense of purpose and more of a sense of where I'm going.

8. That first tattoo makes me think that all of a sudden I know what I actually want Westminster Bridge to be, if I get it. An idea to sit with for sure, but seeing that photo felt like things clicking into place.

9. Pushing home up the hill from the bus stop, toward fiercely atmospheric sunset clouds, followed by turning toward a nearly full moon suspended in the pale blue sky.

10. Here is temporarily who I am.
kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
please tell me that blackberry gin made with maple sugar instead of cane sugar is as good as I think it would be
kaberett: a patch of sunlight on the carpet, shaped like a slightly wonky heart (light hearted)
So much is circumstance and happenstance. I'm stuck on trying to convey my sense of wonder at the fact we've made a ritual of that phrase, when what we are boils down to stellar waste suspended temporarily in an astonishing coherency of water (or, smaller still, of space). And yet: we pay a flippant formulaic lip service to chaos; we take comfort from our small familiarity with mundane chance, from our ability to render down the world to form a habit. But that requires practice lest we twist and catch and tear, like clothing on an unexpected nail: so poetry's a habit, and so's love, in that I'll wear them both and through neglect forget how not to stumble on their edges, how not to trip on my own flighty cleverness, how to respect the work required to wholehearted and carelessly believe that I'm alive, in just the way that I forget to breathe and yet keep breathing. Still, it seems that when I slip I stop or stall into this strange intensely awkward vulnerable hope I'd not at all intended to display; yet here I am, and here perhaps I'll learn to find my balance and, having found it, find that I can't stay.
kaberett: A drawing of a black woman holding her right hand, minus a ring finger, in front of her face. "Oh, that. I cut it  off." (molly - cut it off)
(Turns out I have at least some friends who haven't heard this particular rant of mine before, and I can't face wading through tags to see if I've had it properly already, so! Here we are. Content notes for everything you'd expect in terms of abuse, medical neglect, medical incompetence, terminal illness, etc.)

Read more... )
kaberett: Toph making a rock angel (toph-rockangel)
Feminasty; Megan Ford. Stand-up, and definitely the show I liked best of the ones I saw (if one treats Hearts of Folk as distinct from one- or two-person stand-up). We were clearly not quite the target audience (in that we know what an intersectionality is and it was clearly an outreach-and-education show); HOWEVER it came with badges and a ZINE and wigs and a song and a willingness to engage thoughtfully with "are you aware that this specific thing you did is a little ideologically unsound". So! I grinned a lot and enjoyed it, and this is not an unmitigated recommendation but it is a recommendation.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn; the Mechanisms. Fantastic as ever, made me very happy because I have Feelings about this album, and I got to exit-flyer for Elevator Music. :-)

Lying, Cheating Scoundrels; Morgan & West. I had not seen this show before! Gambling-focussed sleight of hand, for a very small audience (it will happen until the end of the Fringe run, after which they are apparently getting rid of the specific table because they no longer have storage space for it); I got called Isembard a lot, which very predictably made me very happy. Statistics, how to cheat at cards, ridiculous topological and physics-related tricks, and a very warm room that made the cards exceedingly sticky. Not one of their shows I had previously got to see, and I was delighted by it :-)

And then as we were leaving to catch a cab to the station (I write this on the Caledonian Sleeper), I finally caught (instead of just hearing) evening fireworks at the castle. Lovely lovely end to trip.

Shout-outs:
  • lunch @ David Bann, which gets its own write-up (to follow)
  • Frisky Froyo kind of epic (mango popping boba on froyo = best idea) in that we went there twice for mid-afternoon snacks between shows (yes I'm sorry I'm awful)
  • dinner @ Martone (PEACH AND AMERETTI ICECREAM MILKSHAKE. SEA BUCKTHORN SORBET.)
  • Transreal is a speculative fiction bookshop on Candlemaker's Row with a pretty excellent and clearly carefully-curated stock; f'rex one of the items on the shelves was a Subterranean Press edition (1241/1500) of Unlocked, and it was beautiful and also the first time I'd seen a SP edition in person, so that was very exciting; and he'd also got misc Nnedi Okorafor, HURRAH.
kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
Today's bonus shout-out goes emphatically and unequivocally to Over Langshaw Ice Cream and in particular their stand at the top of Grassmarket. They insisted I try a spoonful of the pink peppercorn & heather honey-flavoured ice cream before they'd serve me a scoop, and it was phenomenal and merely served to confirm that I absolutely wanted it. I don't know what their raspberry sorbet was like, because there were enough other flavours I desperately wanted in my face that I didn't get THE THING I ALWAYS GET if it is available, but I have no doubt it would have been fantastic; as it was I got a scoop of the thing mentioned above (and you could taste the heather, and there were occasional bursts of pepper, and it was glorious), and a scoop of the Cranachan (whisky, honey, rasperries, toasted oats), and this was absolutely the correct decision. And it turns out that Over Langshaw farm are the suppliers of eggs to yesterday's creme brulee van...! (Azz, the website has photos of their hens.)

Endings. I was in the middle of a really bad pain flare for this on so was mostly staring blankly into space while waiting for the painkillers to kick in. Two-person sketch show.

MC Escher exhibition. This was the thing I really wanted to get to; it's a collection of almost 100 works (including very early pieces) plus bits and bobs of correspondence, and in addition to better understanding how his most famous works fit together (many of the early sketches played with perspective and perception in Italian landscapes, and clearly informed the very-very-different-to-the-foreground backgrounds of Waterfall and Belvedere) I've acquired some new favourites: Phosphorescent Sea (1933), Porthole (1937) (entirely made up of diagonal lines!), Still Life and Street (1937), Puddle (1952). Additional mentions to Magic Mirror (1946), Other World (1947) Dewdrop (1948), Three Worlds (1955), Snakes (1969). Beautifully curated; I absolutely recommend this if you get any chance at all to go.

An Hour Long Sinister Wink. Two-man cabaret; largely competent though tuning on the cello was a little shaky. Ended up triggering me really very badly, which is to say that I don't particularly feel like talking about it in more detail.
kaberett: Toph making a rock angel (toph-rockangel)
#smashgenrebinaries

also special shout-out to the creme brulee van

The Crema Caravan
Me, delightedly holding out a tiny takeaway raspberry-meringue creme brulee in my cupped hands.


Not Disabled... Enough! Accessible venues are a lie. Charming in parts & the performer was a sweetie; my main take-home, though, was that I really should get my act together to write a comedy show to take to Edinburgh next year.

Women's Hour, by Shit Theatre. YES YES YES. Content notes galore, but handled excellently and respectfully and it made me laugh a lot; the venue gets a solid 3.5/5 for accessibility, and the performers get a 5 as far as I'm concerned. Music-singing-physical theatre; we are contemplating designating Friday afternoon For Repeats and doing this again then along with Black.

Hearts of Folk. I was self-flyering for this one -- I was amused by the image and assumed it would be a bunch of folk music that the useless ex and I would quite enjoy and [personal profile] sebastienne would tolerate for the sake of watching our faces. ... IT WAS NOT FOLK MUSIC. It was, however, an excellent and loving pastiche of vicious music-scene gossip and folk in general. Absolutely delightful. Adored it. A+ self-flyering, would self-flyer again.

Rent (from New York). Holy SHIT I had never seen Rent before and was familiar with only one of the songs (and a filk of it at that). I. I. I started fucking bawling my eyes out (in the best possible way) partway through the first half, and continued bawling my eyes out all the way through the second, to the extent that enough of the actors noticed it that I was deemed In Need Of Hugs when they were going off after final bows. I. It was amazing. Beautiful singing, beautiful physical work, band in the pit jamming misc other shite during intros and breaks, beautiful set design given the constraints of the Fringe, yes yes yes fucking yes, maybe I will be more coherent about it on another occasion but basically yeS YES Y E S.

Saucy Jack & the Space Vixens. Right around the corner from where we're staying, and it had loud bass and brightly coloured lights and lots of glitter and was pleasantly mindless and pleasantly unabashedly cheerful and was a good way to wind down (provided not paying too much attention, ha) after the above, which, yeah, BAWLING. (I have decided I can only manage one show that makes me cry that much per day.)

ADDITIONAL SPECIAL BONUS MENTION TO Chapter 1 of Ancillary Mercy, which arrived in my e-mail today and which I read in the foyer while waiting to be let in to Rent, and promptly flailed about to anyone who would listen ([personal profile] vass, reply to come when it's not way past my bedtime and I am actually situated so as to have internet xx)
kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
A Matter of Life and Debt. Entertaining physical theatre, excellent use of minimal props, somewhat incoherent story but it gave the impression of being designed to showcase as many different Things Each Actor Could Do as possible... in the format of a bureaucracy montage. Think Jupiter Ascending meets Wizard of Oz (in that everything was green and occasionally velvet). I was kiiiind of uncomfortable with one scene's handling of disability and some language in general, but pleasant enough.

Le Gateau Chocolat: Black. SEE THIS IF YOU POSSIBLY CAN. I WAS CRYING BY NOT VERY FAR IN AND THEN JUST... KEPT CRYING. I INTEND TO SEE IT AGAIN BEFORE WE LEAVE IF I CAN POSSIBLY SWING IT. Pro tip: the level-access entrance to this venue is up the fucking hill from the main entrance, and bears a sign which reads FIRE EXIT NO ENTRY. Autobiographical one-man cabaret; trigger warnings for racism, lynchings, gender policing, homophobia, homophobic violence, abuse, abusive relationships, sizeism, depression, suicide, and probably some other things I'm forgetting -- but it was brilliant, and it is important and it matters and on top of that it is absolutely stunningly gorgeous, and I am absolutely serious about wanting to go back and see it a second time. Or, you know, every day.

Plus two I didn't much care for, which carry all the trigger warnings. (Yes, this is a trigger warning for trigger warnings.)

Read more... )

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kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
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