If you build it.

Wednesday, 6 June 2012 12:02 pm
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I built a cubeoctahedron.

Thank you for the instructions, but I didn't follow them. I used tape instead of gluing the flanged polygons. It's rickety. But that was the effect I was going for.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I remember what it was like to be 22 and living in a mostly empty apartment I could not really afford.

I look around me now 20 years later and my home is full of things I have collected, which are mostly still useful though I am tired of some of them and can't find others due to overcollection of things throughout the years.

Lately I've been feeling morbid and I wonder if someone would like to inherit my whole existence. I wonder if I would have liked it if I had been offered this kind of opportunity.

Recently I found perfume samples in my medicine chest. I have a filing cabinet and two printers (they don't both work simultaneously, and they alternate), I have two desks I don't really use except for storage and one I would like to decant so I could start over myself now that I have a laptop. But I need a new telephone and a new lamp. I'd like to have space for different furniture which would fit if I got rid of the things I really don't want. But in order to get rid of things, I need to find someone who wants them.

I'm just wondering if there's someone out there who wants all of them. If I die, would someone want my socks? Would there be someone who would appreciate my muted rainbow collection of turtlenecks and question my strange organization of jeans? Is there someone who could step into my life and appreciate all that I have set aside?
seryn: swimming turtle with grass growing on shell (world on my shoulders)
Do people who live in Hawaii and Florida use the same kinds of towels as everyone else? It's incredibly humid where I live, all year 'round, and my gigantic bath sheets do not get all the way dry if I shower multiple times per day, even if I alternate towels.

Additionally, Simon's mother absconded with all my hand towels and cut them up for rags. I have no earthly clue why she did this and then stacked Simon's bathroom with the hand towels that were in the back of the linen closet (His are the red ones; I hate red; he hates hand towels.)

My previous set of towels has faded to a mauve type color that is really unpleasantly pinkish red, so I am using this as a justification to replace everything. Simon can use my old towels and get rid of his old towels entirely.

Also, there's a 30% sale at LandsEnd, plus free shipping. And their towels have been nice in the past and currently come in a deep purple color they are calling "eggplant". I can get two bath sheets, two bath towels, two hand towels, two washcloths, and a bathmat for $125 including tax.

But ultra plush thick terry towels do NOT get dry in my bathroom, so I thought I would ask if there was a Hawaiian style towel or some trick I was missing. I want to shower a lot more often lately.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I was doing laundry today. I pulled my fancy socks out of the washer and put them in a pocket of my jeans so they didn't end up in the dryer.

I think that is rather an apt metaphor for how I feel about my accomplishments in what has been a dire and complex situation.

I have wet socks in my pocket. It's extremely unpleasant. But it means I did my laundry, that I paid attention to the details, and handled those details appropriately. And yet, it's almost impossible to be proud of yourself for wetting your pants.... even if it was through the pocket and on purpose as opposed to the accidental bladder release kind of wetting.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
Things are catastrophically horrible here.

Today I won a free pound of coffee.

I appreciate that the universe is trying to balance things out, but that's actually kind of ironic-level karmic balance.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I'm getting seriously annoyed that my brain keeps playing music like my life needs a soundtrack.

It's different than an earworm where one song repeats until you're ready to kill anyone who hums along with what only you can hear.

I've heard, and noticed, at least a dozen songs today.

Currently I'm hearing the cello intro to "I Don't Care" by Apocalyptica featuring some heavily made-up dude actually singing--- the only instance of non-black musicians ever using "featuring" that I've ever seen-- which at least is kind of apt and totally doesn't suck since it's one of my top 100 favorite songs and my #2 favorite by Apocalyptica.

Earlier I was hearing "Stand Back" by Stevie Nicks.

There was some song by Phil Collins or Genesis too, but I don't remember which one (I don't own it and can't find out what it was because I didn't like it enough to bother paying attention.)

I'm getting a little tired of there being voices only I can hear. I found that it was very difficult to carry on a conversation with anyone at the gym today because the "background" music was so loud that I couldn't really hear them and was resorting to lip reading and wishing for subtitles. It makes me feel like a crazy person.

Earworms are annoying, but this feels like insanity.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
One of my friends has a lot of cats. I cannot remember all her cats' names. Or even which cats are the new cats and which cats have died since I met her.

Sometimes there are pictures of her cats and I really appreciate it when the cats have names that match up with how they look. The white puffball kind of kitty should not be called "Blackie" because that gives me cognitive dissonance.

I said, but I would probably name a striped cat "Bill Murray". Then I realized anyone younger than me would have absolutely no clue why that's funny. Akin to when I got hit by the automatic hand-sanitizer dispenser at the gym and shouted, "Ah! I've been slimed!" Everyone stared at me and one old guy started laughing. Then everyone looked at him too.

I'm in a bizarre mood because I haven't been sleeping.

Today I discovered that my new phone service has call waiting. At least I figured out what the weird beeps probably were... and I guess it was nice to get my package even though Simon's SIL called.

Today there have been 6 people come to the door. 1 Package delivered, 3 phone calls, and 4 people have IM'd. I've moved 2 dressers and a bed. I just realized I was looking forward to going to the gym today so I could relax.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I had the weirdest dream this morning. I dreamed I was at the "airport" (which looks a lot like a train station for some reason) and there were these long food counters where they would sell you a pb&j with rice and tea for $3. You could add a fried "wonton" (which was like a large eggroll) for $1. And you could upgrade to getting fries and soda for $1 too. So I told them I wanted both upgrades and they had to go to the other counter to get the fries and that one had grilled cheese instead for the same price, so they didn't give me a refund they just promised me that their cousin would know it was me. When I got there they didn't have any "wontons" and gave me a dollar.

I went out for fries this afternoon. I had to let them get cold on a plate because of the mouth stuff, but there were fries. I'm totally throwing out the leftover rice in the 'fridge.

Now, I just need to find a place that sells those "wontons". Most of the Chinese restaurants immediately around here have only vegetarian eggrolls and they're the "man's thumb" diameter ones, not the ones that could substitute for bananas in a high school health class's demo. (That size always has pork. (hahahaha pun totally intended))
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I am drinking the tea pictured in the icon. (The icon says: Virgin Organic (in white) Black Cherry (in red) Black Tea (in black). )

It still amuses me.

The sign at the grocery store said: "Virgin Tea, now in cherry!"

how I buy shoes

Wednesday, 26 January 2011 04:29 pm
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
The weirdest thing about knowing I have trouble buying things is how I can game the "system". I frequently buy myself new shoes when I have a doctor's appointment. I figure I'm already upset, I might as well do a second thing.

I bought Ahnu mary-janes (Benicia II) in "mood indigo" which is a navy blue color. I bought mine at a little indy store, but there is a nice picture from Zappos.

I've been home for 2 hours and feel almost flattened now that the adrenaline has dissipated.

If I didn't have to drive myself, I'd drink several shots of vodka before going. Rationally I know the doctor intends to help. It didn't really hurt either. But that doesn't change the visceral wrongness.

You can tell an arachnophobe that tarantulas are great pets all you want, but it's still not going to change their mind. No matter how loving your malamute is, you don't starve it for 3 days and then let it lick your naked belly. These things feel wrong and your hindbrain will scream at you and your flesh flinches and your skin crawls and your hair stands on end and your fingers and toes go ice cold.

If it goes on for too long where you're trapped between what you must tolerate and what you can stand, it breaks off pieces of your sanity. I just wish I was the kind of person where sanity could be shored up by really cute shoes.

There's the beef!

Wednesday, 26 January 2011 08:42 am
seryn: my own favorite hat (obvious)

I just saw a blog post touting that meatloaf was high in protein.

Um. duh.
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I had a weird bit this morning. I was making things with cardboard and packing tape while watching Mythbusters. I started watching Mythbusters because pretty much everyone I knew watched it and I kept feeling left out. But they film it in California, and some of their remote locations are places I've actually been on vacation. I am frequently knitting during Mythbusters but I don't think I've ever been "building" something.

I need to call the coffee woman and reschedule because I haven't been grocery shopping yet and am supposedly going to meet her in 1.5 hours. I'd much rather send her an email. Bleah. Phone. Scary. But it's not like I can skip the grocery store to just hang out.

[There was a giant pause in the middle of the next paragraph while the coffee woman called.]

An interesting paradigm shift happened yesterday. One of the other volunteers at the knitting group, the one who insisted that she didn't want to come unless she was a volunteer--- seriously refused to try an open group out first, I'm still WTF about that.--- when I first met her, she seemed to have the good-luck version of my life. She has the job I was mutually terminated from 11 years ago but she works from home (the commute was horrid), she has a big floor loom, she has an apartment with hardwood floors and 2 cats, she has a husband and family and inlaws that she loves, she's a fast knitter, reads the same kinds of books as I do, and she's about as introverted as I am. I was completely envious. But I've been to her home and it's not all that. Her cats aren't very affectionate (even with her, not expecting them to love me) and they get into her weaving and knitting. But what changed yesterday is how much she hates the job. I hated it too. I suspect I had one of those Erma Bombeck kinds of envy... the grass is always greener over the septic tank...

I need to knit myself the cord cozy I found yesterday. My Skullcandy earbuds are purple but the cord is green. It's really ugly together. Plus the cords are always tangled from being dropped in my gym bag.

But I need to leave for the store. Do you think people will notice if I don't wash my hair?
seryn: my own favorite hat (hat)
Whenever I read other people being excited by some fictional characters, I often feel like I just don't get it.

When the first Harry Potter movie came out, there were tons of women squeeing over how sexy Alan Rickman is and how much they wanted to get him naked. I wanted to get him naked too, but mostly so I could steal his clothes. Magically-resizing, real-wool, with a waistcoat! clothes. I coveted that outfit. Other women were writing fic about how all those buttons meant he was really passionate and needed to keep himself contained. I was thinking, "there won't be a gap at the bosom!".

I've seen people going on about the new Sherlock's coat. It's pretty much your standard wool coat once you start getting into the realm of bespoke clothes. I looked at that and knew it would make my ass look huge because of the unfortunate length and placement of the pleats. I do sort of envy Sherlock, but it's more his ability to actually get a taxi than any of his stuff.

I was watching some of the old Sherlock Holmes series, the one with Jeremy Brett, and I so want those drapes they have in their rooms. They're black-field floral drapes with fringes. That's exactly what I want, though I'd prefer navy-field if there was actually a choice of fabrics. I am so sick of every floral patterned fabric in existence being white-field or cream-field.

Sometimes I think the characters are sexy, but it's never a character who is even on anyone else's radar. I can give you an ancient example... on Airwolf, I was attracted to Stringfellow Hawk's cabin, his cello playing, and his skill with the helicopters. But Archangel was the one I thought was hot.

I almost never admire the clothes women wear on modern programs. But there's a really ancient Miss Marple, the one where Marple is round, and I really envy her suits. I like Poirot's suits too.

Sometimes I see people who envy the homes or furnishings of characters. But aside from those drapes in Brett's Holmes's home, I wasn't really even dreaming about the house Magnum P.I. lived in. I came close a couple times watching the Nero Wolfe series, but watching them park right in front of the brownstone in NYC just hammers home how out-of-touch the series is. It's like watching reruns of the original Knight Rider when Michael pulls up in Kitt and parks right outside a hot nightclub in urban California, when they're open. When I was a kid, I admired the car, now I admire the phenomenal rock star parking luck.

The world is a strange place to me. And I really need Johnny Depp's hat from Alice In Wonderland.
seryn: my own favorite hat (hat)
I think my alarm is set weird for my biorhythms. I keep waking up aware of my weird dreams. Not the ones that are weird but recognizable like when a red, blue, and green car are chasing you-the-video-game-character through a maze that happens to be your neighborhood on the way to school.

These are the dreams where my brain is clearly test-firing neural connectivity. It feels like a virus scan done on my brain but with the files in alphabetical order instead of sorted by program directory.

This morning's dream had a combination of magic and psycho-philosophy as applied to sociology. I was dreaming that I could personally really appreciate lesbian sex if women could magically create phalluses on demand. They should be prehensile like elephant trunks... and hey wouldn't it be convenient if I could piss from 4 feet away, pointed sideways. I could brush my teeth and pee at the same time without moving from in front of the mirror. But if I peed through my nose, wouldn't that smell nasty all day?
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
One of those *blink, blink* moments yesterday when I found Iron Man / In Plain Sight x-over fic on AO3.

Thankfully my world was arighted this morning after I read them and discovered that they do, actually, suck about as much as you'd expect.

I find that I'm more than a little disturbed by Tony Stark's promiscuity. Which bothers me because I was a small child in the 1970s and a teenager in the 80s, you know, when women were finally able to have sex without damning themselves for the rest of their lives. And now that we have killer STDs I'm regressing to 1950s morality? But my brain says, "90% effective against pregnancy, that's a 1 in 10 chance you're actually risking your life on someone else's past judgment."

Whenever I think I should just pick a new fandom, I re-discover how much my fantasizing brain hates reality. Tony Stark can't possibly be uncontaminated after having fucked thousands of women. I read some Veronica Mars fic recently and it didn't talk about any sort of protection--- even though we've been shown both characters having had multiple sexual partners and even being treated for a non-life threatening STD. I've heard from other people that to them, it's assumed the woman's taking the pill (or whatever) and that there is a condom; because that's how it always is, no one needs to specify it every time. And yet... almost every contemporary romance novel published by a big imprint has an accidental pregnancy plot.

I think I prefer my fic to have magic so all that real life lame shit can be waved away with authorial creativity.


It's been a strange morning. I was actively dreaming when the alarm went off. I was dreaming I was in a loft-home with friends who were cooking and when they set the ceiling on fire (15 feet up no less!) they couldn't seem to think what to do. The dreaming!me is good in a crisis and grabbed the fire extinguisher, shouted orders to turn off the gas, and to get out of the way. But because the kitchen was damaged, we went off to the caves to hunt dwarves with Trident gum. I escaped this social obligation quickly and decided to walk along side the rural road, so rural it didn't have a center stripe, looking for a Taco Bell because I was out of gum.

It's been a day when I feel like I should write my own stories, maybe if I decanted my brain, my dreams would be less weird.

Lately I've also been thinking about names. I'm disturbed that we don't name people after nouns more often. Women are named Megan or Margaret to be called "Meg" not ever "Nutmeg". But we name women after flowers, or have done so even if those names are not currently popular.

Of course, with the current trend of hyphenated given names, we might end up with someone named Belt-Cheese.
seryn: flowers (Default)
You know what we need? Better individual packaging.

In this era of [a certain subset of] people thinking we need less packaging it's not going to be a popular opinion, of course, but the current method of packaging stuff sucks.

The miniature boxes of cereal are idiotic because they're not a whole portion of cereal and they tend to only come in variety packs including stuff no self-respecting adult would eat, while including things no children consider food.

But the family-size boxes of things always go stale before I can finish them.

Then I was thinking about those air-pocket things that Amazon uses for padding in their boxes. They're perforated between the pockets. It's obviously air-tight. And there's printing on them, so they could be labeled with anything.

If that was how cereal was sold, one could buy a wheel of packets. Pantries could have a cereal bar like paper towel holders that come mounted to the under-cabinet. It wouldn't take up more room than the regular boxes at the store (perhaps the shelves would need to have a different configuration, but the volume wouldn't be that different.)

We don't need individual cardboard boxes per half-serving, but if the big outer box could have several sealed packets of the contents, there would be less food wasted. And isn't that the point of packaging?
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I woke up this morning because the neighbors were screaming and pounding on the walls. It was awful. And right at that moment between being asleep and being awake, I couldn't tell whether I was having a nightmare. I tried to force myself to wake up so I wouldn't be scared by a dream and it just kept getting worse and worse, so I thought I was trapped inside my dreaming body where people were being violent and screaming all around me.

Then when I was completely awake, I heard the neighbors screaming in the hallway while dragging their kid along with them. It was the kid pounding on the wall, not bodies being thrown at me.

I'm still disconcerted and kind of jittery.

I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man. -- Zhuangzi
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I'm thinking about hand washing. Supposedly one needs to wash for 20 seconds. That's the foamy rubbing part, not including the pre-wetting, getting the soap, rinsing, or drying. I heard that one should mentally sing the alphabet song because that's 20 seconds. I timed myself and out loud it is about 20 seconds for me. In my head, well, I rush. The alphabet song is to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". It seems to me that we could come up with much better handwashing lyrics.

Since it's trochaic tetrameter, I find that many things suit:
Foaming Soaping Cleaning hands
washing rubbing bubbly hands
water soaping lather wash

Interestingly the tune appears to be even older (1761) and adapted by Mozart. [Wiki]

It's silly, I know, but I think it would really help.

Morbidly obtuse

Thursday, 5 August 2010 10:59 pm
seryn: tea (virgin tea)
I'm going to be weird now. I would ask you to excuse me, but if you've been reading for a while, you know it's the standard state.

I teach knitting on a volunteer basis with another woman who is seriously ill. Most likely terminally so.

I find myself thinking I should start shopping for a funereal outfit.

I mentioned this tonight to my SO. Who then said, "No wonder you want to die before me. You'd have to buy a dress if I die first."

Then I said, "Yes, I really want you to have to buy a suit without my help."

He added, "Plus I'd have to buy a dress for your body."

I was thinking, "Yes, that's my plan. I'm going to die so I can make you buy me clothes."

What I actually said was, "Why would you do that?" They don't care what you wear to your cremation, so why would he not just drape one of our ugly sheets over my body? Turns out he wants to have one of those corpse-on-display services. I think he should dress me in something I already have. No point in wasting the money. But I said, "Whatever helps you. I won't care."

But if the knitting woman dies, I'm going to wear trousers to the service, unless the dress I bought for the last funeral actually fits now. If someone tells me about it, that is. There's always a chance no one will bother. I don't get a newspaper so I wouldn't see the obituary... and that's if someone bothers to put one in.

The thought of going to someone's funeral is just ghastly. I'd have to wear pantyhose and makeup. And I wouldn't be a woman in comfortable shoes. It will be awful. *

Then I realized I was being selfish and it was probably wrong.

Then I realized this was in my own head and damned if I'm going to worry about seeming politically correct in my own headspace. But I promise I'll practice actually being tactful before I open my mouth in public.

* then after this thought about the comfortable shoes... I started wondering why there's a stereotype about lesbians wearing comfortable shoes... women who actually want to attract women wear high heels and gobs of face goo and other artificial enhancements just as much as the women who want to attract men who are deluded by the superficial. It's only the rare women who go completely butch who wear comfortable shoes and flannel shirts or whatever. And a lot of middle aged women do that just because it's practical. Of course I'm wearing my studly-smelling lime-scented men's antiperspirant, so I obviously no jack shit about attracting anyone.

ps. Fuck me. There's a wikihow.


Saturday, 17 July 2010 08:59 am
seryn: dreamsheep (dreamsheep purple)
Does anyone else have dream locations that repeat? Not like real life locations, but dreamscapes your mind has invented. Do those come back and star in new dreams?

My brain has started recycling sets for my dreams.

What I was dreaming before I woke up was that I got off at the wrong bus stop (way too early) and was going to miss my date to see the fireworks. I tried hitchhiking but the Asian woman driving a rented 1972 Nova (gray) was going the other way and opted to take the other hitchhiker instead. So I pulled out my phone, called the person I was going to miss and explained the problem.

But the background setting was this enormously steep suspension bridge where in a previous dream that section at the crest didn't always exist, so only cars who can make the leap Dukes of Hazzard style had people who didn't fall to their deaths. In this dream there wasn't any concern about that... it just looked like the same bridge where the dream driving had been terrifying. It scared me enough to get off the bus early in this dream, but it's more like the backdrop was shuffled in at random and my brain was pissed that I missed the date it had set up so carefully.
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