There wasn’t much damage so we decided to go on. I made a left hand turn in a place I knew well but instead of being the right road it took me directly into a garage where some scary looking people were working, as if this was one of those car/motorcycle reality shows where they trick out the vehicle. They sort of laughed at us especially when the damage was very minor. All we wanted was to leave but the car was now penned in. For some reason Mom was sitting down talking to a lady mechanic. Mom’s feet were very swollen and she couldn’t get her shoes on. She had these high heeled sandals (my mom never really wore heels) so I went to help put them on her.
Once they let us out the path was completely blocked by snow and they had people coming at us on horseback driving cattle. Finally I drove through all the other cars they were working on and out the door.
I woke up then and went back to sleep. At first I was dreaming I had found a dog, a search and rescue sort of dog and gave him back. I had a cat, a big fat orange tabby (my least favorite coloring) and he wanted to be search and rescue. They were all laughing at me until I put him in a harness and he found a hidden grave site right along with the dogs.
After that I dreamt I was…probably one of my characters (or future characters) a sad young man who was talking with a young lady of much higher standing (her father owned a huge department store, this had a 1930s 1940s feel). We were friendly much to her family’s chagrin. She said I could borrow something from this high rise department store, they looked like soup tureens. I gave them to some undercover cops and helped them make a bust (I get the impression these innocuous things were being used to pass drugs) There was a shootout and the cop was hurt but I saved his life.
The next day the young woman was shrieking at me for ‘stealing’ the items. I was like you gave them to me. Apparently her father had found them missing and blamed her for letting a low life like me around and threatened to cut her off so she betrayed me. I had one of the bowls in hand and another was in the attic storage area where I’d been crashing. I went up to his office to return it. There were people around shopping when I walked into his office. I tried to find a sticky note to apologize for borrowing it before I planned to run up to the attic to get the mate to it. Instead all I could find was a pre-printed check and a half broken pencil. I could barely write.
Suddenly everything went dark and quiet as if the store had closed and in comes her dad and his brother screaming at him. I tried to apologize and explain but they weren’t listening to me. They didn’t care that I helped save a cop (nor did they believe me)
I woke up feeling sad and betrayed. Thanks brain.
Also I have no idea if I’m getting home today. The flooding was so bad even I-70 at I-77 was closed last night. That’s where I have to go.
We get two Junes this year! Or something like it, anyway. ( Mildly complex arithmetic-astronomy under the cut )
So that's how come there are two Junes this year, and why I'm justified in calling this entry Endless Summer.
For your refreshment after all that, two pictures from the endless summer - glorious bang lang trees in flower, and appropriately (since the flowering of the bang lang signals exam time for tertiary students) flowering above open-air bookstalls.
I mean, leaving Britain is something I've been wanting to do quite badly for exactly a year - waking up to the Brexit referendum results early in the morning of June 24th was a gutpunch and I've never really caught my breath again. (Mostly because the Tories/Theresa May/Brexiteers keep refusing to treat us migrants as people, preferring to regard us as bargaining chips... and they're so bad at bargaining.)
I live here now. I have friends here! And a yoga studio and a hairdresser and a weekday morning running loop and a selection of weekend long runs and a job and a dentist and I've spent longer here in an unbroken streak than anywhere else in my adult life. (I lived for longer in a Stockholm suburb with my ex, but did a year in Japan in the middle.)
It's familiar, it's safe, it's pleasant. I don't dislike our flat - I wish it had a better view (any view!), and I wish the bedroom wasn't right on the street, and I wish we had a garden or something - but it suits our needs and the landlord is nice and it's got a dishwasher and a washing machine which I will now never be able to live without. And we've made it cozy and ours.
But there's no future here. We can never get on the property market - not in Cambridge, and not anywhere within a 30 minute commuting distance. I think the current property prices exceed 10 times an average yearly salary. Even for us DINKs, that's... not really feasible. And that's not even going into how small and dark and cold British flats are. (These are facts: Britain has the smallest living space per person in Europe. A lot of British houses don't even have double glazing. And possibly due to that, or due to legacy "window tax" issues, there are generally fewer and less generous windows than I'm used to.)
And jobs-wise, Skuld might keep getting promoted, but I've worked myself into a situation where there's no room higher up in the organisation, and I don't have enough experience to take the step to management anyway. Plus I've got a foreign degree in my field, and no experience of the local system, which means I can't ever get a foot in the library door here without taking a severe paycut.
Finally: I miss living close to actual nature where you can roam off the beaten track and there are lakes where you can swim in the summer and skate in the winter and you can pick berries and mushrooms and flowers. Here we have cultivated parks and a slow meandering river you can follow up to the point where personal properties cut pedestrians off, and then it's just fields. Sweden has so much nature. And you're allowed in all of it! We have an amazing law called allemansrätten. I never understood what an amazing gift this law is until I lived in countries with fences and PRIVATE PROPERTY NO TRESPASSING signs and conversations like "there's a nice view up here but we shouldn't get out of the car because the landowners don't like it". I mean, look at this from Wikipedia:
( Basically the only places you can't go camping is in peoples gardens and protected areas like bird sanctuaries. )
So there's plenty of reasons to long for Sweden (including the summer nights I keep going on about), but to actually move there? And not be here anymore? So strange. I can stay in touch with friends online, but where will I find a hairdresser as nice as George, or a yoga teacher as patient as Kathy? Where will I buy my kewpie mayo and frozen karaage and other necessities? There's no UNIQLO in Sweden (yet, maybe) so that's half my wardrobe I can't replace. And will I not regret this move when it's mid-April and sleeting, and instead of being out running I'm online looking at friends' beautiful shots of gardens in bloom and green grass in Cambridge.
Because the grass is always greener, and all that...
(The exception to the rule is Kyoto, which I've always felt lived up to all my love for it. It will always be the first city of my heart, and one day I hope to spend some time there again.)
- Space Patrol Luluco
- Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin Season 2 (oof- I have to wait another now for Season 3)
- Mob Psycho 100
- Kenka Bancho Otome -Girl Beats Boys-
- The World YAMIZUKAN
- Blue Submarine No.6
- Yuri!!! on Ice
Wishlist of games coming out:
- Jak and Daxter trilogy(PS2 on PS4)
- LOCOROCO 2 REMASTERED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *flails hands around*
- Dissidia Final Fantasy NT
- Pokemon Ultra Sun
- whatever the Playdead company is coming up with (dudes who made both LIMBO and INSIDE)
- whatever thatgamecompany is coming up with (Flower, Journey, Flow)
- KINGDOM HEAAAAARRRRTSSS (WHENEVER THE FUCK IT'S COMING OUT)
I am fairly hmmmm about this piece on empaths, and wonder if some of those consultant empaths are employing the cold-reading tricks attributed to psychics, but buried in it is actually an interrogation of how useful quivering responsiveness to emotion is and the suggestion that 'empathy alone is not a reliable way of coming to a moral decision', and
Empathy is not action. It’s much more useful to be knowledgable about what’s happening so you can effect structural change. If everybody’s swimming in a sea of feelings, it’s an impediment to action.
And possibly somehow related to this, on the advantages of scheduling over spontaneity.
See also, review here of Selfie by Will Storr: 'This engaging book links the ‘self-esteem’ industry to Ayn Rand and neoliberalism. But is the selfie-taking generation unusually narcissistic?'. And is there not something problematic about making a big deal out of a single young woman who takes a lot of selfies? (shoutout here to Carol Dyhouse's Girl Trouble and the constant motif of young women's behaviour epitomising what is supposedly wrong with These Here Modern Times.)
And in Dept of, Countering National Stereotypes, the French minister who wants sexual harassment fines and is annoyed by the cultural myths about Frenchwomen.
Born in 1799, Anna Atkins captured plants, shells and algae in ghostly wisps and ravishing blues. Why isn’t she famous? - how long have you got to listen to my answer?
A book on hares which is, it sounds like, more about hares than the writer's journey and epiphany from their encounter with nature
*edit* ha, and the third gym that's just slightly out of sight has.a level three raid in an hour and a half.
( blathering about my suburban raid experience thus far )
Raid info from niantic: https://support.pokemongo.nianticlabs.
What gets my attention is this detail as quoted:
"The British Columbia Supreme Court approved her suit, but the provincial Court of Appeal stayed the case, saying it should properly be pursued in California, where Facebook has its head office.
In its 4-3 split decision, however, the Supreme Court found the clause unenforceable."
From Michael Geist:
Joe and I were lucky because we were flying home and Toronto was where we got off. Many, many, other people on the plane weren't so lucky, they were flying through Toronto and needed to make connections. The length of delay meant that there would be tight connections at best and missed at worst.
I never watch television or movies on the plane, I have a book and that's movie enough for me. What I watch is the map that's provided as one of the video options. All it does is show the progress of the flight and give information as to arrival time and altitude and temperature outside but the best thing is watching the little plane slowly make it's way across the screen following a flight path marked out by a green line.
As the plane got closer, the atmosphere on the plane grew tense. Around me people who had been watching movies flipped over to the map as well. We all watched the approach to Toronto and the time passing. Whispered conversations were being held by couples and by parents and children. There was a sigh of relief when the plane touched down.
About five minutes before landing, there was a passenger announcement. We were told the gate we were arriving at and the gates of soon to be departing flights to varying places, all of which were destinations for those who had connecting flights. Pens quickly wrote down the gate numbers and a diversity of Gods began to hear fervent prayers.
As we pulled to the gate, there came another announcement. this one was quite solemn in tone. Everyone picked up on the seriousness in the tone of voice. It asked for those passengers for whom Toronto was their final destination to please stay on the plane for a few minutes and leave the aisles free for those who had connections. It was explained to us that the pilot had made up some of the lost time in flight and that if we gave people the opportunity almost all of the passengers with connections would make their flights.
I could hear in the voice a tiredness. I understood this. I've been on planes before when this request was made and virtually no one complied. People got off in the same way that they always do, as soon as they could. I am used to waiting to get off a plane and I'm always surprised at how quickly it empties. It's not a long wait. It's a small thing to do.
Some passengers were so anxious to get off that they were getting up and getting luggage as we were pulling into the gate. They were told firmly to sit down until the plane stopped moving. Their anxiety was understandable. Seconds before the door opened the appeal was made again, if we were getting off in Toronto, wait just a few minutes for those travelling on.
And people did. I turned to see the aisle full of people running, actually running, down it towards the door and people standing, waiting, some calling out "Good Luck!" to their fellow passengers who zipped past them. I'd never seen this before. I'd never seen a whole plane, filled to the brim, let those who needed fast exit have fast exit.
Just a moment of time.
Just an exercise of patience.
And a touch of restraint.
Can communicate who we are in powerful ways.
We, collectively, had the opportunity to allow people to move on in their journeys, to make it home to spouses and kids, to make up lost time. We, collectively, could demonstrate the power of valuing another's time and another's needs.And, we did.
It's a small moment but it will be a big memory.
As we always get off last, I saw the Toronto bound passengers faces as they disembarked. Everyone was surprised by everyone else, everyone seemed surprised that this had happened and that they were part of it. We are all now going to be part of everyone else's story.
And it's a good story.
My brain has been doing weird things the last couple of days. I could definitely be worse, but it's still annoying, and also not making it easy to get stuff done. I'm hoping to fix that today, so we'll see what happens. I really want to watch things, but I keep telling myself to do things first, so that may or may not ever actually happen. Also on the list of things I can't do while getting stuff done: sleeping, reading, Flight Rising, and listening to the same two songs over and over.
I will learn how to focus someday. I swear I will. Maybe.
-Present path or tradition: Wiccan
-Interests: green living, veg/vegan, homesteading, animals and their rights, art, books, movies, music, politics, Washington DC (I'm from Maryland, but I consider DC t o be my hometown.)
-Age (not mandatory): late 40s
-Brief Bio: MM, all! Been Wiccan for a very long time (26 years!) Was in a coven, but now I'm solitary. I currently live on our vegan homestead with my guy, two dogs, and seven cats. We're just learning about being homesteaders. It's been very educational, but we have a long way to go yet. Would like to take the house and well off-grid, but we don't have the money to get set up with alternative power yet. I work as a virtual assistant/freelance writer/editor, but am looking for part time work to get me through the lean times. I guess that's good enough for no w. Blessed Litha!
( Wonder Woman )
( The Mummy )
I'll probably think of a million other things I should have said once I've posted this, but I've got out of the habit of posting at all, so ... jazz hands! Here I am. For what it's worth :-)
So. Have I missed anything else that was good? I saw Guardians of the Galaxy 2, which I enjoyed enormously, but I don't have much more than that to say about it. I hope you're all okay after the Great Exodus from LJ *offers a random hug to all*
That one KSR about how if you send a generation ship filled with the learnedly ignorant, colonization will surely fail aside, are there any SF novels recent enough to use the exoplanets we now know of as settings?