kaberett: a patch of sunlight on the carpet, shaped like a slightly wonky heart (light hearted)
... because I have just made P read it, and then we stayed up til 1am talking about it, and I haven't talked about it here yet because Too Many Feelings, which I will now attempt to sketch.

(Spoilers within!)

Read more... )
kaberett: a watercolour painting of an oak leaf floating on calm water (leaf-on-water)
1. One of the picture prompts Duolingo gives you when you're learning German and it asks you to translate "the sugar"? Is a bowl of sugar with vanilla pods in. I am charmed, and also sort of curious about whether it does that for other languages and I just... haven't noticed.

2. I am signed up to the London Business School Behavioral Research Lab, which means I sometimes get an e-mail inviting me to participate in a study in exchange for cold hard cash. This morning I got to drink a small quantity of beetroot & passionfruit juice (selected from a tray containing a variety of juices), read some feedback about it, and then give my own. It took about 15 minutes all told, I got paid a tenner for it, and I continued very gently learning to like beetroot. (It was surprisingly tasty, and paid for half my new ereader. This makes it a win all round.)

3. I've actually been managing to swap e-mails with P over the past few days! He's been responding! It's been lovely, not least because he pointed out an excellent bit of costuming that occurred in Elementary 4x17 that completely passed me by -- namely, Read more... ).

4. I think I have worked out why some of the creme brulee attempts have gone grainy! I'm pretty sure (I have not kept adequately detailed notes) that it happens when I pick up cheap extra-thick double cream and let it out with a little milk, as opposed to just using double cream. So that is a mystery solved, for all the mechanism remains somewhat opaque to me. (Ideas?)

5. ... A. just brought the last creme brulee through, with the last of the strawberries he picked up for me last week on top, and two spoons, and proceeded to lean companionably against me while telling me all about how en-GB-oed is his problematic fave. hashtag domestic bliss, etc etc etc.

6. I got to stick my name at the top of a file in the Dreamwidth codebase, today, because I'd written more than 10% of it (or 100 lines, whichever is smaller; in this instance, 10%). It's a tiny feature that like one person (possibly two people?) is going to (be able to) use, but I think that's still actually the first time I've got to do that, and I am Contented.

7. I had shakshuka and bagel for breakfast, and bagel and cheddar and cucumber and a strawberry for lunch, and textures and flavours and yes.

8. I was on time to (or early for!) all my appointments in spite of Tube Shenaniganry (the Piccadilly line just wasn't for much of this morning, okay), and the staff at my local station did a top-notch job of looking out for me, and then pleasant brief commiseration occurred on my way back in. (People who have had that much of a morning 100% get me explicitly thanking them and wishing that the rest of their day gets better.) (I gotta say, given what today's been like for them, I really hope they enjoy tomorrow's strike.) And then I made a phone call I really didn't want to, and removed another source of uncertainty; and then I dealt with some other stressors. Yes.

9. I am so endlessly, immensely grateful for having a warm and comfortable bed that makes me hurt less and that soothes me. (I have a memory foam topper from freecycle; memory foam pillows from my mother; a weighted blanket of my very own; soft duvet covers, and soft micofleece blankets, and stripy tulip pillow cases my mother thought I should have.)

10. Have a ridiculous song. (Oh right, what was actually going to go here was mild amusement at the intersection of interests of public transport, graphic design, zoological illustration and a specific animal species that means I've probably managed to luck into sorting A a Very Appropriate Present -- this is not spoilers, I've had a chat with him about how much effort I'm willing to go to in order to achieve the thing -- but I sort of wandered off into being distracted. So have two cheerful things for the price of one.)
kaberett: Photo of a pile of old leather-bound books. (books)
It's a facsimile copy of Nairn's London, bought from the Graun bookshop because of course, and the blurb is
'A record of what has moved me between Uxbridge and Dagenham', Nairn's London is an idiosyncratic and intensely subjective meditation on a city and its buildings. Including railway stations, synagogues, abandoned gasworks, dock cranes, suburban gardens, East End markets, Hawksmoor churches, a Gothic cinema and twenty-seven different pubs, it is a portrait of the soul of a place, from a writer of genius.

The Graun review features the line It is a wonder in itself. Compact – 280 pages with index – and yet enormous in scope, it is a detailed vision of a city, and what a city should be like, that has never been bettered.

They've met me three times.
kaberett: a watercolour of a pale gold/salmon honeysuckle blossom against a background of green leaves (honeysuckle)
... and twice makes a tradition. P-the-ethical & I have a habit of going for A Fancy Meal most times we end up in the same place, which we probably need to curb a little now that we see each other more than twice a year, and he was keen to go back and is an excellent dining companion; I'd been wanting to know what facesfriend thought of the place since he'd mentioned to me that work owed him a fancy dinner; and I was wanting to introduce them in a context that wasn't in point of fact A Party. Plus taking more people out to fancy vegetarian dinners means I get to try more of the food, so. That was a motivation.

Read more... )

As one might expect service was unobtrusive except when they had no option, e.g. the committee that assembled to gape in amusement at how badly I'd got my hair tangled in my coat on arrival; and the point at which we came to pay, my boys looked at each other and me and pulled out their cards and said we'd sort out my contribution later, the waiter was very carefully very impassive, and I ended up going bright pink and burying my head in my hands and giggling because yes, in fact, it was exactly what it looked like. But also at a point earlier in the meal I'd mentioned that It Was My Birthday Treat, was wished a happy birthday, and then my dessert came out on a plate with "Happy Birthday" in the glaze and a candle on top of it. So! It was showy but also judged exactly right for me. It was lovely. <3
kaberett: Toph making a rock angel (toph-rockangel)
1. I got home to find a Terrifying Letter From The DWP... letting me know that my DLA's been autorenewed through to 2016 without me needing to do anything about it. :-)

2. I am now down to two half-written poems in the stack - one's a villanelle and will be hard; one might grow up to be a sonnet but is probably going to just be my usual style of thing.

3. Domestic bliss: doing the washing up while P curled up on the sofa with my complete works of Donaghy (he of Machines and Midriver), dipping in and out and reading me bits.

4. Swedennn. Snow and sunsets and AMINALS and RIDICULOUS FOOD (the ridiculous round thing with the whole in the middle, of which I have eaten approx my own bodyweight with butter and cloudberry jam over the past few days; ditto pepparkakor; ditto ajvar; I am a predictable human with predictable tastes) and exciting new food! Semla were not a thing I had previously consumed. (hahahahaha yes I win "simnel" is indeed finest wheat flour, semolina, which means semla is too, surprise)

5. Poking around etymonline.com after triangulating through all our mutual language; the -lic of garlic is in fact the same word as leek, and the Swedish for onion and (with modifiers) misc allium, and the German for misc allium. (Spem in allium, etc etc.) We were pleased.

6. Being helpful at my mother. :-) I mean, it is deeply weird to be grown-up enough to be helpful when it comes to casting an eye over CVs etc, but pleasant! Also she e-mailed me about pirates (and did not give me any updates on the rugby).

7. ... Elementary, though, okay. ELEMENTARY. SHOW.

8. Useful work done! Retweaked abstract (hopefully I'll be able to submit it tomorrow) for baby's first talk; did a quick blitz on an area I wasn't terribly clear on the specifics of and needed to be, wrote myself a summary, and have some questions for discussion with my supervisor; did an extremely sketchy first pass on the thesis outline I'm required to submit for my 21-month assessment, and slightly to my astonishment realised that it... continues to approximately make sense?

9. Mush. (SUCH TEENAGE.)

10. I am really really enjoying hair-adornment in the shape of tulmas courtesy of [personal profile] khalinche - they're beaded, and I reckon they're kind of like blue roses and P reckons they're kind of like a peacock and either way they make managing my hair marginally easier when it's hanging down in a braid, and are very very pleasing when I manage to arrange them either side of a bun. Sensory misc. Yes. :-)
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)
P: Sweden likes to claim it invented the cheese slicer, but so does Norway, and when Norway enters the conversation Sweden tends to back down. On the other hand, Norway also claims to have invented the paperclip, which the Internet pretty convincingly refutes, and Norway tends to back down in the face of that too.

me: So in a game of rock-paper-scissors, Internet beats Norway and Norway beats Sweden? ... which must mean that Sweden beats Internet.


kaberett: a patch of sunlight on the carpet, shaped like a slightly wonky heart (light hearted)
-- is partly because I'm pulling fairly long days for the next fortnight (finishing up chemistry this week for five days of machine time next week; teaching Tuesday mornings and throughout Fridays), partly because I'm reading a pile of books, partly because of guiltknitting (nearly done!), partly because I spent this weekend being utterly teenaged with facesfriend (and also eating and sleeping a lot, hurrah), and partly because I will be spending next weekend with P in Stockholm, where we will probably read a lot of poetry and watch a lot of Elementary and spend less time out of the house than we ~ort~. Much affection to you all and apologies for commenting less than I'd like. <3

... whoops?

Jan. 8th, 2015 12:22 pm
kaberett: Photo of me with my face buried in my hands (blush)
I was mildly embarrassed, last night, to realise that the list of places P-the-no-longer-unethical and I have spent time together over the course of the past six years goes a bit like this:

Cambridge (UK) (maybe a fortnight in total)
London (UK) (half a week?)
York (UK) (two days)
LA (USA) (5-6 days, I can't remember)
Paris (France) (long weekend)
Zürich (Switzerland) (long weekend)

... and we're about to add Stockholm (long weekend) to that list. *facepalm* Hurrah Academia, I suppose...? The only place one of us wasn't living or working at the time, in that list, is York.


Dec. 20th, 2014 04:44 pm
kaberett: a watercolour painting of an oak leaf floating on calm water (leaf-on-water)
I am curled up on a sofa in a bay window overlooking the Ouse, on which lights are reflecting, listening to P remind himself how pianos work. His parents are through in the kitchen putting together dinner (I helped with food last night). We bimbled briefly through town this morning - along a stretch of the wall around the minster, via a cafe that served us pistachio-rose-cardamom cake - and I spent much of the afternoon napping while he caught up on marking at his desk. Over breakfast I managed to actually help with a couple of Araucaria clues - P's mother had been saving the crossword for the next time he was around. This is proper lovely.
kaberett: Yellow gingko leaf against teal background (gingko)
First and always: Cambridge. Cambridge, which I've seen through enough different eyes -- town and gown, resident and caretaker, political and utterly independent of any given inhabitants -- Cambridge, which had me for two decades and change, and has me still. My parental home is a 1960s newbuild semi in Arbury; my college contains an archway that predates its foundation in 1350, that's had chunks carved out of the limestone by bicycle pedals over the last hundred-odd years. I've laughed, fondly and otherwise, at the new undergraduates with their shiny new college scarves and no idea how to cycle; I've dodged punt touts and helped my baby brother pass his hiring test to be a punt chauffeur; I've rummaged through the stacks in the University Library and put up and repainted street-signs. I know where the permanent graffiti is and I remember some that's been and gone; I've delivered leaflets at 6am on election morning and I've observed the counting of votes and I've walked across town at four in the morning from the Guildhall (where the outcome was known) to a common room (where people were glued to the news); I've walked across town at two in the morning (Homerton to Trinity Hall) very solemn and slightly wobbly with a viola; I've leaned my forehead against stone and felt where it's come from and been reassured by its solid indifferent presence; I've punted to Grantchester and back and eaten strawberries in the meadows in the sunshine. I've lost and found and found and lost religion and confidence and friends and trust and love. Cambridge is mine, or I am Cambridge's, and so it shall be forever, amen.

Zürich was next. I spent a summer soaking up sunshine, glancing up from my commuter paper to see the Alps crowned with glaciers as we crossed the river, looking out the window on my way to tearing down the stairs from the eighth floor to see the turtles and the fish in the pond way below. There are fields opposite the Spital Limattal -- apple orchards up the hill, but immediately opposite - by the bus stop - pick-your-own flowers and an honesty box. I found cafes and restaurants and friends and I learned a whole new language and I lived by myself absent a support network for the first time, and I explored and I fell in love with museums and was baffled by art and I swam in the lake and learned to like blue cheese on a Roman customs point in the rain overlooking a river with P. I miss pear bread most of all.

I didn't learn how to love LA. Mostly I got as far as baffled affection: for the sky that only ever got as dark as a glowing orange-purple, that turned opaque blanket of smog when you drove high enough into the mountains to see the stars, that left my lungs a wreck for six months; the fantastic street art and terrible public transport; the storm drains and dry river; the jacarandas and the humming birds. My experience of LA is less that, more a haze of heat & food & Caltech campus, with a dream-sequence weekend-long road trip up to the Bay Area somewhere in the middle.

And, of course, London. London, and its river-that-is-a-dragon. I would (as I thought) have hated moving here when I was 18; now I find myself delighting in how joyfully small it makes me, in exactly the same way I am small when I look at the stars or (closer to home) the Moon. I don't belong here but the river-dragon will let me stay a while, and so for now I will fling myself into proms and parks and concerts and gigs and museums and the poetry library; I will stand breathless with delight on the bridge at Embankment or at St Paul's; I will be a mirror for this city and the city shall be a mirror for me, and I will learn more about how people work and more about how I work and I will adore its trees and mysterious statuary and, most of all, I will learn.

(Honourable mentions go to Oxford and to Edinburgh, neither of which I understand, in part because of how intensely my experiences of them are bound up with how I relate to the people I love who relate to these cities; to my patchwork understanding of Heidelberg, all castle and computational linguistics and music and cheap beer by the river; to Rome; and to Paris, and in particular the sunrise walk between Gare de l'Est and Gare du Nord, and a toast to fifth-floor balconies and wine, and croissants by the Seine at dawn.)
kaberett: a dalek stands at the foot of a flight of stairs, thinking "fuck." (dalek)
On Friday, I didn't make it out of bed until about noon, then threw myself through the shower and such as P was due to arrive. I then flumped about pretty uselessly until he prodded me out of the door and onto a train and basically dealt with getting me to the picnic that was M&C's joint stag/hen do. We stayed until 6ish, and I think I then maybe napped? But we collectively got some work done, ate another meal, and I introduced P to some of my current favourite TV and also some poetry I hadn't waved at him before.

Saturday he again took responsibility for getting us out of bed and out of the house for breakfast and in enough time that I could do the necessaries at work, we spent a bit more time than intended hanging around at the V&A, and then wedding. He & Nik took charge of making sure I made it from the wedding venue to the reception; after an hour or so at the reception I made it home, where [personal profile] rysmiel provided incentive to make there be dinner and spend the evening being vaguely human and useful.

Sunday rysmiel left early for their next thing, P & I woke up late (around noon), then I think P took charge of making sure we ate and I mostly spent the afternoon/evening asleep because I was wobbly as all get-out, to the extent that I stayed in bed rather than going to the Prom I wanted to (P went to the thing himself, I stayed horizontal and slept some more until I got well enough that I could get the breadmaker going for ill-advised late-night baking, and then I rearranged the kitchen some in ways I didn't really think through at all that resulted in me having to do a controlled fall in the pantry because I'd lost the ability to stand again).

Monday, again, P took responsibility for getting us out of bed at 11amish, phoning in a lunch booking and route-planning to get us to & from the place, and then for getting us out the door in time for the Prom (to which we did both make it). Also for organising dinner.

Today he left at around 8.15am. It is now 2, and so far I have managed to sleep through the fortnightly lab meeting I'm supposed to e-mail reminders about for the second time running, brush my teeth, and eat yesterday's leftover curry. Also check my e-mail. Smallcousins are having a summer party I really want to go to, but the idea of finding my way to Liverpool Street and then managing a train is daunting enough that I have not yet actually managed to get out of bed properly or shower or anything.

This is kind of why I need a carer. :-/
kaberett: a watercolour of a pale gold/salmon honeysuckle blossom against a background of green leaves (honeysuckle)
P & I have been meaning to make it to Vanilla Black for a while (at least since April!), and today we did. Notes on what we had follow; decidedly not vegan & we had three courses each.

Read more... )

tl;dr it is not exactly like I am a bad or unadventurous cook (& nor is P!) and nonetheless most of the dishes we had contained not just things we didn't know how to make but things we couldn't even identify that were nonetheless delicious. I-- just-- yes. The food was excellent and presented beautifully; the environment lovely, with music quiet enough to be unobtrusive while still masking conversations at nearby tables (I have difficulty with auditory processing, so!); the service was attentive and unobtrusive if perhaps a little slow, but we weren't in a hurry and so didn't mind. The place was very quiet on a Monday lunchtime - we arrived at 1pm and saw two other couples before we left - but this wasn't exactly a bad thing.

... we are plotting to go back to try more of the things.

(And then we went to a Prom and were both surprised by how much we liked Nielsen's 5th, and then we curled up in bed with take-away curry and watched two episodes of Elementary, heh.)
kaberett: a watercolour painting of an oak leaf floating on calm water (leaf-on-water)
On Friday evening we sat on a fifth-floor balcony under darkening skies with cheese and bread and fig jam and alcohol. I dangled my legs through the railings and admired the railings across the way. We talked and talked and talked some more. I gave him the selected works of Neruda I'd picked up in the branch of Foyles at St Pancras on my way over; I note with sadness that it shuts at the end of the month. (Still in England, barely outside London, the train passed a field of red double-decker buses that had been put out to pasture.)

On Saturday we ate at an intriguing vegetarian restaurant recommended by a friend (welcome to identify yourself in comments, just wasn't sure whether you'd be okay w/ naming <3) who was very kind about texting back & forth enthusiastically over the course of the morning. The afternoon we spent at the Louvre, where I was very fond of dragons and the cuticles/lines on a Nisus&Euryalis; and there was a tiny gallery of watches about which I was very excited because there was actually a set-up I'd never seen before -- watches with inbuilt sundials + compasses, presumably so that when they wound down/went too badly out you could establish the time in order to correct them! (Really, really excited - I've visited enough horology galleries to be genuinely surprised to come across styles of timepiece I haven't met before.) Said gallery also featured a very nice implementation of the hourglasses-displaying-subdivisions thing -- instead of a rack of 3-4 hourglasses to be turned simultaneously, it was a column of glass blobs that (one infers) emptied sequentially on the quarter hour. AND there was a gallery of scientific instruments and tiny portable armillary spheres, which always make me happy.

In addition there's currently a formal-gardens competition going on -- Notre Dame and a few other associated places seem to have decided on a theme of "The Illusion", by which they mean they've dumped a bunch of 5' tall mirrors in flowerbeds, which is fascinating if slightly creepy.

AND in the EVENING, after a route home via the confusingly-named Luxembourg park that to its credit contained an excellent brass band, we had EIERSCHWAMMERL. I was staggeringly excited to find them at the shop round the corner from P's, because they are very difficult to get hold of in any appropriate form at any appropriate price in the UK, but I got to do all the appropriate things with respect to frying them in butter with garlic and then drowning them in parsley, and lo it was good :-) (At same said stall I was delighted to find that at least in some parts of France the thing I would call Zwetschke is a questche! Not sure which way the etymology goes but will have a go at hunting it down.)

And then TODAY I slept a lot and then feasted well for breakfast (both mornings P popped to the bakery around the corner and returned with a bag of fresh croissant & pain au chocolat while I murbled around still being asleep in bed; it was great) and eventually we left the house; we walked past bookshops & coffee shops & through parks & the Musee d'Armee (nice dome!) & paused to eat fresh bread & fig jam & Selles-sur-Cher, which is my favourite goat cheese and much more readily available in France than in the UK; and ended up at the Musee d'Orsay, where I fell in love with the giant clock faces as architectural features on the top floor and also suddenly got the point of art galleries in front of le jardin de Monet, les iris -- or at least, I suddenly understood why someone might want to just sit and stare at a painting for hours. Additionally: lots of very nice stuff in the Art Nouveau exhibits, and once we got chucked out we hung around on the bank of the Seine to see the Tour de France go past -- P sort of felt he ought to, and so did I, as I'd ignored it in both Cambridge and London and it was right there and due to go by pretty much as the museum was closing...

... and that, having skipped over a fair amount of the intervening raspberry-and-pistachio-ice-cream, was that; I waved at the Centre Pompidou, managed through cunning overscheduling to fail to make it to Etat Libre d'Orange's flagship shop, for which my wallet no doubt thanks me, exclaimed with delight over a very great deal of architecture and a large number of flowerbeds, was delighted to come face-to-face with ponies, swore a lot about how much I hate people, was very glad I'd taken the wheelchair with me, and ate cherries. I continue impressed by how thoroughly pleasant it is to travel by Eurostar with chair - flat rate gets you business lounge & business premier & actually genuinely tasty food on board, so! I was happy and will do the thing again in the future.

Yes. Good weekend. No work, lots of reading of books, good company. Good.
kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
1. Codeine. (Codeine and HF turn out to be less axiomatically lethal in combination than one might have expected.) Basically: I've been having a pain flare since the middle of last week, to the point that I've gone "fuck it" and am taking maintenance codeine in addition to having upped my paracetamol dose. (I try not to do that because my supply of opiates is Limited, but hey. Sometimes the thing is necessary.)

2. Slightly to my surprise, I am actually bang on where I wanted to be with the ridiculous schedule [image|text], give or take the thing last week with a question mark on it, which I am... impressed by, given (1).

3. [personal profile] jjhunter wrote me a poem, and then wrote another poem that might as well be for me with as many of my buttons as it hits.

4. [personal profile] elisem made more shinies! Hel was over, and we SQUEALED WITH DELIGHT; it was brill. I am particularly coveting Night Protocols, The Idea, Rising, Emergent Properties, and How The Message Travels; I genuinely cannot tell if I want Watching Over The Lines (to go with Keeper of the Lines, about which I have written a tiny short prose poem THING that explained my own psychology to me more than I ever expected), because the wirework is glorious but it's not quite my kind of rock (both in terms of colour and in terms of research). And I'd love to love 'Much Ado About Nothing' As Performed By Fish for all sorts of reasons, including that it's my favourite play, but that one is definitely not something that wants to live with me for all it's glorious.

5. Burnt toffee dark chocolate, and unrelatedly blueberries.

6. Sunshine!

7. Talking to strangers on the bus, with the specific aim of helping lost tourists find a place.

8. P, who I am actually managing to catch up with some, which is great.

9. Watering my plants (the strawberries are trying to strawberry!)

10. Hel-who-came-over, who is coming over regularly on Wednesdays at the moment because housemate has gaming, I do better when I have someone to feed, they like being fed, and there is TV I adore showing people that they're wanting to get caught up on. Today: leftovers of yesterday's All The Minestrone (seriously, about five litres) and also courgette fritters, with wholemeal bread + lemon + lettuce.

I am tired and in pain but I am also happy. It is nice.
kaberett: a patch of sunlight on the carpet, shaped like a slightly wonky heart (light hearted)
1. TOL & TOG were just round the corner from home tonight for a show, so via Shenanigans involving me forgetting that Hammersmith isn't actually a single station they stood around in the sun with me for a bit before they vanished in to show (which twitter suggests was as good as I'd expect from Penn & Teller) and I got hugs and sunshine and stern looks about eating enough and bullshit about science and a brief discussion about the point of painting, and having left the lab it was fairly easy to pick up dinner on the way back in. (And on the way out I stopped off at one of my ridiculous corner shops and acquired stacks and stacks of emergency chocolate.) (And while on the topic of polymer chemistry and feeling vaguely contrite about the extent to which these people look after me, [personal profile] sebastienne talked sense at me and I continue to feel better.)

2. We are tonight providing accommodation, as we occasionally do, for waifs & strays with appointments at Charing Cross Gender Identity Clinic. Because, fundamentally, we're a trans-positive household a fifteen-minute walk from same, most of which involves walking through a rather nice cemetery, and consequently this is a concrete thing we can do that is helpful.

3. My supervisor appears to continue genuinely pleased with my labwork: we're trying a different introduction system with the mass spec this time around and the ion beam is stable and as of 11.30pm, every single data point from the past two days is usable (where with the introduction system I had been using, I was getting maaaaybe 50% usable data). Or, to put it another way, my chemistry has been fine and my tuning the machine up has been fine (she's popped in to check a couple of times while I was elsewhere, which I know about because she's told me after the fact that she had a play around and didn't change anything because it was spot on) (though I should really have retuned before putting tonight's overnight run on but if I had I'd've ended up locked into the building and that is no-one's idea of fun, and in any case the machine is pretty much rock-solid -- I've lost a tiny bit of sensitivity but nothing that should be a problem, and I'll tweak it back up when I get in tomorrow), it's just the ways in which these are fundamentally finicky beasts that are not actually under my control. Also, supervisor tends to rise early, so me leaving work at midnight means that when she gets in at 7am she can swing by the basement, have a quick poke, and make sure everything's where it should be, and set another thing going if necessary; and then by the time I rock up around 10am it's ready for me to have a poke again.

lots! )
kaberett: Photo of a cassowary with head tilted to one side (cassowary)

[A spotted Bengal cat sits smugly in the middle of an approximately brown beanbag in front of a laptop.]

This. Is the spotted murderbeast. Or the hellbeast. Or That Dreadful Cat. Or, frequently, that fucking cat.

She owns two of my partners.

Here is an illustrative anecdote about why I refer to her this way:
I was lying in bed without glasses on. She jumped onto the bed next to my feet, walked up to my head, sniffed my nose for a few seconds in the way that cats do, then withdrew just enough to make a speculative but very directed swipe at one of my eyes, with claws extended, to see what happened.

... she got kicked out of the room

... and sulked about it


And here is another, from this weekend:
We have reached an uneasy truce consisting of (1) timeshare and (2) pretending to hate each other. Unfortunately somewhere along the line we seem to have inadvertently become fond - as far as I can tell, we are both baffled by this - and turn out to miss one another if I don't visit in a while. She woke me up at 4.30am on Sunday morning by speculatively attempting to shred one of my favourite shirts; I told her "no" without even getting out of bed & she stopped. This constitutes a Great Victory, because (1) she actually very obviously waited to see if it was a thing I was okay with her doing, and (2) THIS TIME IT WASN'T MY LITERAL EYES.
kaberett: Yellow gingko leaf against teal background (gingko)
P told me he'd never seen me looking as comfortable and happy and relaxed as the evening I spent lying on a beanbag in a living room, with my polymer around me and fed.

He also pointed out that I can now walk through ticket barriers at tube stations without breaking stride as I swipe my Oyster.

There's something very soothing, very calming, about sitting on a Piccadilly line train, stationary in the dark, above ground, with the rain on the roof and windows, as the District line tumbles by above.

Back when I first started seeing this counsellor, I talked about how I felt I was repotting myself, giving myself more soil and more water and more space.

This evening, we talked about my grandmother's garden: about the sacred rockery, planted to remind her of the Alps; about the camellias she grew from cuttings; about the parsley and the redcurrants and the strawberry patch. About her garden as her sanctuary and as nourishment and as roots and as legacy, and about her garden as changing and organic and growing.

And we talked about it as something - an idea, a seed - that I can carry with me.

I think perhaps that I am now large enough, strong enough, that I can be planted out.
kaberett: Overlaid Mars & Venus symbols, with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
1. We have a new dishwasher at home. It theoretically works. (I haven't been around to test this.)

2. One of my best friends is in the country. We are making food together and giggling a lot and sharing poetry, and it is nice.

3. I am introducing him to TOL & TOG & some of the rest of the local polymer, and that is likewise going well (as far as I can tell!)

4. I really, really enjoyed Wired Love (thank you so much to [personal profile] skygiants-I-think-it-was for suggesting it!), and the various other books I have been reading (I am going through a patch of Fluff, and it is nice; it is on Gutenberg and it is lovely.)

5. CN has posted their brownie recipe on the internet why did I not know this thing

6. I got another round of digestions going on Friday, despite only being in work for about three hours, and I didn't kill anyone with HF.

7. I talked about my code some more with That One Gentleman and he showed me some ways to make it better (there were some horrible hard-coded bits that are still hard-coded but now less horrible!).

8. Got to introduce more people to Neruda.

9. Got to introduce P to my Lioness shinies (ps: 50% off sale on til the end of Sunday, I am attempting to not buy anything else...)

10. ... because my previous gorgeous shiny has probably only just shipped after I spent an age faffing about it (yes even though I want that other one too... >_>)
kaberett: Aang waterbending an octopus around himself (aang-octopus)
... I'm sorry this is a thing I'm genuinely bad at, so what I am ACTUALLY going to propose we do is play the "which animal would you cross with a dragon and why?" game.

  • Dragon crossed with a weevil. Because it's a tiny, adorable, pocket-sized lighter.
  • Dragon crossed with a giraffe. Because neck. And patterns.
  • Dragon crossed with a squid. Because squid are adorable, okay, and also TENTADRAGON and also how would the motion and fire-breathing even work, I don't know but I want to find out.
  • Dragon crossed with star-nosed mole. It was the tentacles that made me think of it; sorry. Prehensile flames? :D
  • Dragon crossed with striped pyjama squid.


ETA: here are a bunch of drawings of animals crossed with a hyena.
kaberett: Photo of a pile of old leather-bound books. (books)
I find it hard to spend time with people I don't know well; I find it hard to get to know people; I find it hard to trust. This is the source of a great deal of on-going soul-searching and the beneficiary, I suppose one could say, of a great deal of my time and money.

There's one obvious exception to this, and that's poetry.

Read more... )


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

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