which_chick | Reading

Volleyball was fine. Elbow coffee was fine. And now the rest of the day is mine which is VERY fine.

Dick and Jan (the new peops) were at elbow coffee this morning. They actually, officially, move in on Monday. The California king bed that they have slept on for years will not fit into their new bedroom so they are bed shopping. They said that the bad new is their bed won't fit but the good news is that Dick has now shrunken in his old age and he fits on a regular king which does fit! So win. They are a cute couple.

I got an email from Microsoft that they wanted $20 for another year of One Drive. Nope. After the password debacle, I'm over you, Microsoft. Plus, I pay for storage on my web site host so I'll just pop important stuff there. Mail is already copied so all I really need is the stuff on my Google Drive. Which is 23 4GB zip files. I was going to download them all and then upload them all but why? cheaper and easier just to plop them onto an external drive that I already have. So that's the plan.

I also figured out how to get Apple TV without fighting Apple. Somehow my Apple TV account got hosed and Apple won't let me back in. NFW am I going to call them which is my only option. BUT! Prime Video let's me subscribe through them AND they are having a sale. Win win.

Where there's a will...

My foot is far less purple and not nearly as hurty today. I did not even think about it while playing volleyball. And neither one of my feet or ankles are even remotely swollen. Nice.

There is stuff around here (Timber Ridge) that bugs me. Food stuff, services, stuff, options stuff. Having Scott and Julie around to point out all the marvelous thing here, has led me to rethink. I agree with them both that this place is lovely and impressive and comfortable and caring and a great place for me to live. But, I forget all of that when they replace french fries at lunch with fucking tater tots. Or they change the package receiving system so that I can't get my packages in a timely fashion. And then I tend to focus solely on the bits that are annoying.

I have two packages, neither of which is critical and one is a jacket I can't even wear til fall. I have a photo of the package being received so I'm fairly certain it won't get lost in the waiting. I have a lot of french fries in the freezer.

So what remains is training myself to NOT focus on the annoying bits. I think I can do that and that's today's project. I was going to do laundry but that will be tomorrow. In my fridge, for lunch I have fixin's for BLT's and two fried chicken thighs and one whole hot dog with chopped onions and potato salad. I'm not going to be hurting for meals anytime soon.

I having knitting to do and baseball to watch. And I might even watch some Wimbledon.

In 1985, I got to go to Wimbledon with my mother. My father gave her the trip for Christmas and then, at the last minute, could not go (union problems at work) and she asked me if I wanted to. ER.... yes!! We had a great time but it was, that year, the hottest Wimbledon on record. We fried our asses just sitting there moving our heads back and forth. I understand they are celebrating this 20th anniversary with even hotter weather. But, alas, without us.

I will be here in the cool, apartment remembering.

tyger

Getting up was extremely difficult this morning, because bed comfy world cold. Also, cat snuggles. But I did eventually do it! And went to the shops and got food!

Nothing much else today, though, bleh.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: Birthplace

mallorys_camera

Grass clippings turn out not to be good weed deterrents.

Here was the Hyde Park garden before I weeded it:

Okay. Ten days of neglect.

Here is the garden after I weeded it. My tomato plants shot up a foot in those 10 days.

I am thinking I will go back today, finish the weeding, & put down straw—which I know from experience is an effective weed deterrent.

###

I don't even want to think about what the New Paltz garden looks like. I may venture out there tomorrow.

Flavia, Mimi, & I are supposed to rendezvous at BB's Monday. I was thinking of rescuing some plants from his enormous garden and transplanting them in New Paltz—that is, if they are at all rescueable. They may not be. Their root systems may be too well established.

But BB has rows & rows of really nice heirloom tomatoes.

And it would be a pity to let them all perish.

###

Other than that... I got an enormous client assignment yesteray. The kiskas are pleased they will not starve.

I sat out on the back porch for a long while last night and watched the fireflies and Black Chicken strutting about. Black Chicken crows! Just like a rooster.

I am brain dead in a peculiar fashion: There is just nothing very much to think about because there is no one to tell what I think about to. Not here, at any rate.

The wedding weekend was very good because I just chattered away through it; there were lots & lots of wonderful conversations. Here, BB was literally the only person I had to talk to. Oh, I have lots of acquaintances! People I don't recognize are constantly coming up to me in supermarkets: "So good to see you again!" I suppose I must have done their taxes.

###

I did everything you're supposed to do to make connections in a new place when I moved here. I'm a member in good standing of all sorts of community organizations. But those community organizations did not yield friends. I met virtually no one I wanted to get to know better. I have no idea whether this is because I am too old to make new friends or whether the people here are shallow, conventional types who don't attract me, but vanity compels me to assume the latter.

So, Bad Fit to my current surroundings. DUH, right?

When I move, it should be a big move.

But I'm too brain dead to think about that very much now.

harpers_child

I need to write down my ipod playlists somewhere and this journal is likely to outlive whatever notebook I write them in. The ipod was last attached to a computer and new music put on in 2014, so it's a little bit of a time capsule.

( bucky and steve )

( misc )

( unpublished fanmixes )

saving here while I go eat.

soc_puppet

I finally finished listening to the main story of MDZS! There was some delay for various reasons, mostly related to my car's failing fan motor, but I managed to get to the end 🎉 (Minus the extras. But those can wait.)

Definitely love the story; don't know if I have any particular fandom feels about it, though. SVSSS still has my heart in that regard.

Speaking of, a stray thought: I'm about 90% sure that the "Immortal" part of "Proud Immortal Demon Way" is specifically referring immortal human cultivators, and thus Binghe's heritage. He is both immortal in the human cultivator sense, and a demon. I'm obviously not one hundred percent sure here, but it makes enough sense in context that it just kinda... tickles my brain occasionally when I see alternate interpretations.

Anyway, provided I can find a way to rip my Audible library, I'll probably listen to TGCF next, but we'll see what happens.

Current Mood: recumbent

ranunculus

Carrie called around 9am and asked if I'd like to do a short ride. Yes.
I groomed and saddled Firefly, putting her bridle on over her halter, then moving the reins to the halter, not the bit. We walked out a little way to meet Carrie and I got on. For the first few yards Firefly was a tiny bit fussy. We were headed back toward home and she DID NOT want to go home. The minute it was clear we were going somewhere else she perked up. Honestly, for most of the ride I felt like I was on an old experienced trail horse. She was as good as gold. She looked carefully at the bank we had to walk down and then went down quietly. She looked carefully at the rather steep stream crossing and then walked quietly and carefully across, no jumping, no trying to move fast, just perfect. At one point she did spook a bit at a particularly black and suspicious cow pat. When I say "spook" I mean she stopped, looked at the cow pat , tensed up a tiny bit, looked at it again, put her head around to my boot to ask me if everything was ok, and when I said it was and encouraged her; she sniffed it, relaxed and walked on. That is the first time she has clearly asked for reassurance from me while I was mounted. Perfect. We rode through the herd of cows, passing several within a few feet with no incident. We watched the flock of turkeys without a spook or moving away, or any drama except stopping and looking. I never for an instant felt I needed to move the reins to the bit for more control, in fact quite the opposite. She accepted light contact with the reins and went where I directed her.
I'm thrilled. Maybe we will have issues next time, but for the mile we rode she was delightful. Very slow when we turned for home, but that was enough for one day.

ranunculus

Lots of tomatoes have set. Far more than last year at this time. I think it is because it has been quite cool all the way through June and the first few days of July. I'm expecting, and dreading, the arrival of very hot temperatures. I still have lettuce in the garden!
The first okra will be ready tonight or tomorrow morning.
Picked the first cucumber today, it was a pickling cucumber. The lemon cucumber, which was planted quite late, has started blooming. Meanwhile one of the Japanese thin skinned varieties, Shinto Kiwa has tiny fruit all over. Somehow I planted two of that kind and both vines are growing vigorously.
I'm ready to pull out the "Smooth Criminal" yellow squash. I don't like it's flavor or size. Ditto another summer squash, Zucchinio. Zuchinio is supposed to be both a summer squash and, if allowed to get big, a winter squash. As a summer squash it just tastes like it is green, with no other redeeming qualities. I'll replace it with another Butternut.
This morning, pre-snake activities, I added some big logs to the bottom of the 6' tank. Over the top of the wood is lots and lots of old potting soil and coconut coir mixed together. All that got wet down a little and then I added a nice layer of moisture holding, native soil that is rich in clay and mixed it in a little. Next: drip irrigation followed by planting, followed by horse manure for moisture retention.

cimorene

It's taken five years to caulk the seam between the two pieces of butcher block on our counter, so I had to dig a bunch of breadcrumbs out of it first with a fruit knife (it's right in front of the toaster). We also re-caulked the seam between the butcher block and the stainless part of the counter by the sink. (The sink is only a few cm from the edge of it, which is very bad design, and the edge of the butcher block there has inevitably suffered and swollen, as the caulk was never going to be adequate; there was no easy way to get the whole counter in stainless, but we should have figured it out anyway. Or alternately, just called up the companies that make tiles and fireplaces out of Finnish soapstone until we found one that would sell us a counter, even though none of them make counters.)

We also oiled the hinge of the bathroom door - the one modern, new door in the house - which has been squeaking for years (unlike all the other doors, which are from 1950 and work flawlessly). And then we glued the aluminum threshold down over the tile floor at that door - it was already loose when the contractors left because the initial adhesive they had used wasn't in contact with the front face of the cement under the tiles, because the tile sticks out a few mm proud of the subfloor. I scraped a layer of gummy glue off the back of the threshold (glue which had never stuck to the tile and instead became impregnated with dust and dirt), then applied some construction adhesive. It's extremely stinky upstairs now as it dries, even with the windows open.

But anyway, all that didn't even take all day. We've done a bunch of laundry and sat on the sofa cuddling cats in between. Can't believe it took us five years.

tyger

Sibling was over again today! ( Today's home improvement ramble is mostly about skirting boards. )

Other than that... I did some washing! Had a late afternoon nap! Nothing much else. Really gotta go to the shops tomorrow. I should really be eating something more nutritious than three ingredient pasta. (Pasta, dried shiitake, peas. Plus cheese, but that's added afterwards.) So uh yeah I should get to bed so I can do that...

Current Mood: sore
Current Location: Birthplace

ranunculus

Firefly was being obstinate this morning. I called her to come in from the field and she turned her back on me. We had words. So I marched her into the corral and hurried around the shop to get some alfalfa for her.* I was about 8 feet from the hay pile, which is covered with a blue tarp, when I spotted the snake lying along the front of the tarp. I screamed, because snakes are what I'm scared of, and left the area. Dave gave us a shotgun a couple of days ago, but we didn't have shells for it yet; so I called Michael. Perhaps 25 minutes later Michael and his girlfriend showed up armed with a shotgun, shovel and metal rake. The snake hadn't moved. Michael carefully uncovered the snake's head, and shot it. Poor snake, it was never aggressive, even at the end. It had 10 rattles and was really fat. I fetched a bucket and they took the body with them. While I am quite relieved, I'm also still wary. Snakes often have a mate somewhere around, so caution is still warranted.

* Grass looses most of its protein when it dries. We feed alfalfa, which is a legume and very high in protein, as a supplement. Firefly had lost some muscle, which means she was protein deficient and her body was breaking down muscle to provide needed protein. I should have started a couple of weeks ago.

susandennis

Years and years and years ago, the Vietnamese War killed my patriotism. I was in college. My friends were being drafted to go over and get killed. Then, an hour from my college, the National Guard fired guns at the students at Kent State. And that was the final blow.

I could have - maybe should have - left but never even seriously considered it. I got a little hopeful when Obama was elected but, of course, that's been squashed.

So celebrating the birth of this ugly political pit is not something I gravitate to. Red White and Blue represents stupid old white guys who make ridiculous decisions.

Yes, I have enjoyed the fruits of those stupid white guy decisions and I get the irony but I still hate all patriotic holidays and the crap that goes with them. So... today will be a Friday for me.

New menu day and the last week of my meal month so I need to eat up whatever they are serving. Scott and Julie helped this month so it's not so much of a scramble.

My foot is a little better. It's no longer bruised looking from the shot so there's that. I still have another shot to go but that's not til August. I've been watching my ankles and they are weird. One day they are huge and the next they are back down to normal, lather rinse repeat. I'm now taking an embarrassing number of pills each day. 1 for cholesterol, 2 for high blood pressure, COQ 10, vitamin D, AREDS2, now an allergy pill and one for my feet. That's 8 every morning and another AREDS2 at night. AND I'm healthy! (Oh and the allergy pills are working again so whew!)

Baseball starts at 10 today. And I might do some laundry or not. My little UPS shop is closed but I have nothing to return today anyway.

omnia_mutantur

(it kind of counts if I wrote it yesterday then didn't press post, right?) I guess as long as I post twice today, by whatever weird score I'm keeping with myself, it counts.

I'm in Mystic, CT now which, among other things, not one but two ancestral MyMaidenName burial grounds (one of which you have to trespass to get to, I have only seen it once attending a MyMaidenName family reunion and couldn't find it again), between the two spanning back (I think) at least 250 years. The bloodline goes back further, my father in his retirement decided to double down on genealogical research and traced himself back to the Mayflower by five or so different paths.

My father was very committed to enrolling all his children in the Mayflower Society (an organization for people who can do said tracing back). My little brothers acquiesced, one sister-in-laws said he had to wait for her kids to be able to consent, the other just let it happen. I declined, on the basis it was creepy and I did not wish to, and refused to provide him/them with a copy of my marriage license or with something legal stating Light was really truly divorced when he married me. I have gotten letters from the society in the intervening years, indicating I still had an open application. Along the same lines, my great aunt was a member of not just the Daughters of the American Revolution, but also the Colonial Dames of America, the fancy version for people who held some sort of advanced rank during that time. (the myth is up until this generation, a MyMaidenName has always been in a war)

I don't talk to my parents anymore. There's a lot going on there and I've written and deleted three paragraphs about it at this point, so clearly it's a topic to return to to. But even having severed that tie, even knowing all the horrible things my ancestors must have done to acquire and keep land and money in the New England region for that long in the general if not specific ways, I still like this idea of place-based continuity somehow. I don't think I'm especially proud or smug, I didn't _do_ anything, and I'm still trying to figure out if what I like about it can stand up to daylight.

But there's something about not belonging to my parents, but still belonging to this place, like I can skip over the people who birthed me and still have roots. Something animism-adjacent I suspect.

(here we truncate this entry because it is long and circular and bedtime)

mallorys_camera

February 14, 2013! That's when I first met BB.

Here is what I wrote about him:

You May Think This Entry Is About Industrial Architecture, But Really It's About Sex

I spent a very interesting day with a very interesting guy doing one of my favorite things in the world – no, not making love, but walking around a postindustrial apocalyptic landscape and looking for architectural talismans, clues to transience, proof of what was once there and what will one day be there in its place. I don't know why I find this so fascinating, but I've been doing this since I was a very young kid, and mostly alone because the only other person in the world who shares my preoccupation with this is Ben. BB was very happy to tramp around with me, and I think he enjoyed himself but I suspect what he was really enjoying was me enjoying myself.

The Greenpoint neighborhood of Brooklyn is utterly fascinating and filled with weird things – like this Russian sign over the nondescript door to this most unprepossessing little building. What the hell was this? We were close to the maritime reach, and Greenpoint was a big shipbuilding center well into the 20th century with light industry, satellite foundaries, glass factories, rope factories. I'm thinking at one time this must have been one of those bizarre little sailors' halls for Russian merchant marines far from home. But who the hell knows?

I liked BB a lot. I think he liked me, but the dynamic got more unsettling the farther we strayed from small talk. I'm a big fan of small talk. I don't actually like process-oriented conversations unless they're specific planning sessions about who is going to take out the trash, who is going to vacuum and who is going to cook dinner on Tuesday. I am of the opinion that real communication takes place in the interstices. It's not what is said, it's how it's said. I particularly don't like process conversations with people I've just met.

Of course, BB is someone from the Online Dating Site. He's also polyamorous, has lots of girlfriends including a primary. And of course, we talked a lot about sex.

We went back to his apartment, which is just a terrific apartment – converted industrial space with a large piano and tons of books and interesting art on the walls and this wire on which he had trained an ivy plant, which had obviously been there for years and years. Amazing view outside his front window of the water treatment plant which has four minarets just like a Russian Orthodox church. Or maybe they're stylized sculptures of giant garlic bulbs.

We sipped a very delicious port, and nibbled baguettes and prosciutto and a nice runny Camembert, and talked somemore about sex. Listen. I'm gonna have to get back on the bicycle sooner or later, right? So I told him I would probably end up having sex with him at some time in the future but that I would take it slow and then when it happened, I would make the moves. And I would have to say that this made him… nervous.

At a certain point, he started talking about his "super power." Which is apparently the ability to make women come merely by telling them to come.

BB is actually the second guy I've met in NYC who has this super power, by the way. I have no reason to doubt him. He's very charismatic. But this whole I-make-women-come-but-I have-to-masturbate-to-orgasm-myself thing squicks me out a bit. It's kind of like: I want you to lose control, but I'm not gonna lose control. The Dom thing, in other words.

The Dom thing is not my thing at all.

I crave mutuality.

The most times I ever came in a row was 11. I kept count. I think I was supposed to lose myself in the sheer rush of sensation, and to a large extent I did, but you know, I'm always observing. The perp in question is actually a middlingly famous guy so I won't name him. He pleasured me exactly as though he was winding a clock with a kind of clinical degree of interest that made the experience – despite the physical pleasure – rather… degrading, I suppose would be the word.

Anyway, by the time I left BB's apartment I had decided I wanted to be his new best friend, but that I didn't want to have sex with him.

BB is just a terrific playmate. I could have real fun with BB, and who knows – maybe I will. But my favorite sex has always been very uncomplicated sex – the physical contact, the contours of someone's naked body fitting to my naked body, the smells, the tastes. The animal passion of it. I really don't want to be programmed to orgasm like Pavlov's dog. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It just ain't for me.

Now!

A very interesting thing happened after that: BB found my online diary. I have no idea how! I may have mentioned that I kept one, but I certainly would not have given him the link. In those days, I patrolled the boundaries between my—ha, ha, ha—real life and my online journal a lot more rigorously than I do today. I don't have to patrol the boundaries today! Absolutely no one is interested anymore in long form prose.

BB was aggrieved! The entry had sparked a somewhat lively debate. Resolved: BB is a jerk, Yea or Nay. I think the debate squicked him more than the actual entry.

He commented on the entry!

Can't say I'm enjoying this

So I'm the "narcissist" "Dom" etc. y'all are talking about. Patrizia spends 4 hours hanging out with me, and thinks she's got it all figured out. Fine with me, except it might be nice to be kept in the loop one-on-one.

I'm not going to 'answer' what has been said/surmised about me. I don't enjoy being the object of ill-informed (not necessarily wrong) projections about who I am, but since short of the Vulcan mind-meld, projection is all we have, I'll have to live with it.

I just would have preferred to have had some of this conversation directly.

BB

Then he called me. "Do you want to talk about this?"

Well, I didn't really. I would have much preferred him to remain an amusing character on the page. But I felt I kinda owed it to him, so we met. Can't remember much about the conversation except that a Treaty of Friendship came out of it, and thereafter, we would meet every couple of weeks to tramp around Greenpoint.

And a month or so later, something else happened that was pivotal:

If You're an Artist, Move to Pittsburgh or Detroit

Had a really fabulous time w/BB last night.

First we did the urban archeologist thing, traipsing around Greenpoint, which is just so filled with interesting things to see. The hipster scene is fully entrenched. The Yuppies are ju-u-ust beginning to tiptoe in behind the hipsters. In ten years, unless there's some kind of major economic collapse in NYC, Greenpoint will be fully condo-ized, filled with bright, hopeful little shops selling upscale, over-priced cheeses and kitchenware. So it's a kind of transient scene. In a way like strolling through a large, interactive Tibetan Buddhist sand painting with graffiti and secret gardens behind barbed wire. The wind blows gentrification.

If you're an artist, you want to move to Pittsburgh or Detroit. Not Brooklyn.

Back at his house, BB had prepared this truly scrumptious North Indian meal from scratch that included an amazing green mango curry and a rather wonderful peanut/habanero chutney followed by home-baked carrot cake and whipped cream. I gorged myself.

All the time, we kept up this fabulous conversation – about our respective lives, about the world around us –

The most fabulous thing actually happened after he drove me home, though, and I discovered… I had left my fucking purse at his loft.

Stupid, no? Muy, muy stupid.

999 guys out of 1,000 would have said, "Oh, too bad. Come by and you can pick it up on Friday. Unless you want to come back now and take the subway home." But BB just turned the car back toward Brooklyn and kept talking — I think we were discussing the history of repeating rifles in America on a parallel track with the Ganesh-ification of Lawn Guyland.

I couldn't tell if he was pissed off at me or not –

"I feel really, really stupid," I said.

"And guilty too?" BB asked.

"Oh. Well. Yeah! That's a prerequisite for feeling stupid, isn't it? I mean guilt and stupidity. They kind of go together like Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr –"

"Well, good!" said BB. "I'm sure I can use your guilt to my material advantage at some point. If not in this lifetime, then the next. I don't really get too bent out of shape about stuff like this. Shit happens. You go with the flow. Of course, if it turns out you left your passport or green card at my house, you'll have to walk back from Brooklyn."

BB is like the most perfect playmate ever. Just loads and loads of fun. And this is really what I want in my life. Playmates. That's what's been missing.

That and the $126 million Lotto payoff.

I was totally blown away by how cool BB was about doing a U-turn on the Long Island Parkway & cruising back to get my purse!

Most people would have been far more begrudging. Not me, I will add. I'm always pretty cool about that kind of stuff, too. So, it was obvious that BB & I resonated to the same cosmic frequency.

mistressofmuses

Last Tuesday, we headed back up to the plains again. There was a pretty good thunderstorm chance, so we wanted to see if we could get a good view of any of them.

Eh... mixed results. We did get to see a little bit of nice lightning, but the storms lost most of their oomph by the time they reached us up there. Except for the rain. There was a LOT of water in those clouds! Somehow we managed not to get any hail, which was surprising. The storm eventually reintensified a bit farther north, and while we followed it for a while (through the absolutely wild quantities of rain), we eventually gave up on it. Partially because we didn't want to go much farther, and partially because the rain was so heavy you couldn't see much else, so even if it had done something cool, it would have been hard to see.

Before following it north, we sat in the rain in a parking lot for a bit. This is a screenshot from a video I took of the rain. I'm not sure this even really shows just how intense it was!

Down one of the county roads we were on, we did see a neat old structure. We were able to pull over to grab a couple pictures on the way back, once the rain had stopped.

A couple pictures of clouds, some of swallow nests:

Stormclouds!

More clouds!

We've taken this exit off the highway before, but there's a really extensive colony of cliff swallows:

I love their nests; they look like little clay pots.

Not the most amazingly successful day, but still nice to get out and do things. The old house? church? other? was neat.

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: my apartment

susandennis

Before I even moved in here, one of the things highest on my list was a built in ironing board. We found a couple that just weren't right and we never found a place to put it and I gave up. I tried living with a little one that you sit on the counter but it was a fail. Then I bought a small apartment sized one and last week, one of the cats knocked it over and mayhem ensued.

Turns out what I really wanted was an always available ironing situation. In the condo, I had an ironing station always at the ready. I hate to iron so just walking up and turning on the iron, doing the deed and walking away was perfect and what I wanted here.

After the flying ironing board incident, I spied an option. My closet is huge by Closets I Have Had In The Past standards but it's also pretty full but there was a spot...

So I ordered this.

It arrived today. The instructions were not too specific and the bits were not totally labeled and so the project was a bit bigger than I expected but I managed it. (Thank you, me, for that more powerful cordless drill you finally bought not long ago. You rock.)

And now it has a home.

It came with a door but I thought that was unnecessary. I already ironed a shirt that got wadded up in the last laundry. Turned on the iron, rolled out the board, did the deed, rolled it back. Done. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

And I'm quite delighted.

goddess47 posting in

little_details

I'm writing a story where my main character stops his friend, a dad to a 13-ish year old boy, from purchasing some ~~anime~~ manga books because the main character knows the book series is too adult (sex, violence, both) for a 13 year old. The main character then recommends a different series because the story line is more appropriate for the age of the teen.

The story is the relationship between the main character and the dad, so this is a small piece of the larger story. But I know absolutely nothing about anime (or manga, obviously!) and would appreciate some recommendations of titles that would fit those categories.

Thanks!

ETA: I'm looking for currently available titles and perhaps where they are best purchased (a bookstore, a comic book store, a specialty shop, online?)

ETA2: I'm looking US-centric here.

soc_puppet

I may as well share this here.

( Humanitarian Rats )

( Works Cited )

Current Mood: drained

susandennis

Turns out my foot hurts far less than yesterday UNLESS I'm bouncing on it in the pool. And then, OMG! So I played with one leg and the ouchy foot tucked behind the good leg's knee. That was an experience. It's really hard and after 2 hours I think my back is going to be pissed tomorrow. But I was really surprised when I got out and started walking - it didn't really hurt at all. The 48 hours of pain expire in 4 hours. I'm counting.

And in other good volleyball news, the asshole is gone for a month. It was so lovely this morning without him. I'm going to enjoy July.

2025 is half done today.

AND today is the day I brought Biggie and The Smalls home from the shelter in 2019.

I got an interesting email from Gmail today. It said it was getting ready to close out an old email address of mine for lack of activity. So I thought I'd see if I could resurrect it. I have a giant fear of Google blocking my account. It happened once. I don't remember why. It was years ago and I finally managed to snag the helpful eye of a googler on Twitter who got me back on track. But, since then, I've lived with the fear. That first time, I was unable to come up with a former password or the date I opened the account which were two bits they wanted to prove I was me. Once I got back in, I captured that data and put it into an Outlook email account.

This morning I was interested in pulling the thread on this 'new' email account and seeing if I could get back in. It did ask for a former password and I typed one in that it did not reject. Then it wanted the email address I was using for backup. That took 2 tries. Then it wanted a phone number to text. But, once I got that far, it let me reset the password and BOOM I was in. Cool. Turned out I opened the account in 2005 and looks like I last touched it in 2006. And, shockingly, there were only 300 junk emails. So that now you can easily run multiple Gmail addresses in chrome, I think I'm going to start using it for storing misc bits.

So then I remembered I had not backed up the database that holds my notes. So I did that - which goes to email so then I decided to check and make sure it went to my backup email. All of the mail that comes into my main Gmail account automatically also gets sent to my backup account. So I went to Outlook and could not get in!! It let me reset my password but still would not let me in! so I noodled around a little and found a reddit thread about VPN which I do not use but it did lead me to try turning off wifi and using my cell data on my phone with a hot link to my Chromebook and BOOM! Microsoft is happy again. What a PIA. THEN I discovered remembered that because Microsoft is such a PIA, I had moved my backup email to me@susandennis.com which is over on my website hoster. So I go over there, log in and BOOM! There's all my email safely waiting for me and not connected to Google or Microsoft.

An interesting thread pulling for sure. But I do like that I finally got in everywhere and my stuff is safe.

All that thread pulling was time consuming. It's now 9:30 and I'm still in my robe from the pool. I need to make my daily run to UPS. I'd better get dressed first.

mallorys_camera

BB—Brian—died.

Very suddenly.

I'm not distraught because honestly, I can't believe it. A world without Brian is absolutely unfathomable to me.

###

Brian was the only person I knew who liked to go tramping through the seemy, unraveling parts of cities as much as I do it. The science of Why is THIS here, doncha know. "Economic geography," we called it.

Once, trudging along the Greenpoint waterfront, we happened upon the Hafiz poem above, scribbled like graffiti on a broken tide break.

"That may be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Brian said.

Of course, it was. The Hafiz poem described Brian to a T. Brian's love hit the whole sky. Brilliant, hilarious, generous, stubborn, iconoclastic. A bon vivant. A teddy bear. He'd say he hated all religion, but that was not entirely true. I'd say he was very religious. His religion was kindness.

###

He was a regular reader of my online journal. The only one of my real-life friends who was. (I have become real-life friends with a lot of the people who read my journal, but they didn't start out as friends.)

Sometimes, he commented on my journal, but more frequently he texted me, often reprovingly: We were firmly in the Sibling Zone, bickered and made up regularly like brother and sister.

The woo-woo aspects of my personality drove him quite mad. He was not a fan of the woo-woo.

In particular, he hated my theory that humans more or less choose their reincarnations.

I don't doubt that you had memories of a past life, and have no facts upon which to base a doubt that you had such a life, he texted furiously.

But saying you chose this life is an assertion that stands apart from reincarnation itself. Nothing about reincarnation implies that you get choices. So far as I've heard from others on this topic, it's the choices you make in this life and other past lives that determine the next life.

You remembered vividly a life lived in the past. What I was asking is what if anything you remember about the choice you made to live this one.

So let me give you my motivation. I HATE AND ABOMINATE the assertion that people chose to be rounded up, stripped naked, starved and shoved into gas chambers

###

The last time we hung out—little over a week ago—we talked almost exclusively about death, which of course being me, I'm inclined to see as prophetic (except how scary would that be?)

"Don't you think I'd rather be an atheist?" I asked him. "I'd much rather be an atheist! It would be a much better fit with my personality! It is a total fucking drag every time I drop a quarter on the sidewalk to have to think, Now how does this teensy-tiny action fit into the Universal Plan? But I can't—"

"'Cause you buh-leeeve!" Brian sang.

"No, that's what's interesting. I don't believe. I have faith. Belief and faith are qualitatively different. And there's nothing I can do to shake my faith. Believe me, I have tried."

"Well, we could always arrange to have ICE kidnap you," Brian remarked cozily. "Maybe a little waterboarding? Put you right!"

Brian was a funny guy!

###

We actually had a date this coming Saturday: The Gardiner Cafe is hosting a storytelling open mike á la that NPR show The Moth, and we signed up for it.

Part of me thinks I ought to go. As a tribute to Brian.

Another part of me thinks I would stand up in front of that microphone & cry hysterically for five long minutes until they dragged me off the stage.

Of course, that might not be a bad thing.

I haven't cried yet.

###

Meanwhile, I'm noticing all sorts of spectral disturbances in recent photos I took of Brian.

Like in this photo, he has a halo:

And in this photo, he has angel wings:

Brian himself would have rolled his eyes & made gagging sounds if I'd ever pointed anything like that out.

tyger

Actually succeeding in going to bed early!

I even did all the things on my to-do list today, which is pretty nice. :3 :3 :3

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: Birthplace

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Page generated Jul. 6th, 2025 12:02 am

One a day, plus iron

I really should fill this shit out

Reading

Saturday

I did, eventually, go to the shops!

Transplanting

the playlists off my ipod by Harper age 42

MXTX stuff

Firefly

Garden Notes

Wax's summer vacation, the only time we can do renovation tasks

Fucking cactus spines I hate them

R.I.P. Snake

July 4

(no subject)

The Treaty of Friendship

June 24th: Plains and storms, cool old house

Manual labor

Manga (Anime) series info?

Speech: Humanitarian Rats

one legged volleyball

Brian

Oh hey look it's not even 1

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June 2025

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