Sentiment

Oct. 17th, 2009 01:52 am
yrmencyn: (Default)
Right now, at this exact moment, all feels right with the world.  I'm going to go and curl up next to my love in bed.
yrmencyn: (armadillo)
It's everyone's favorite kind of post -- a GOODTHINGS BADTHINGS POST!!!

GoodThing: Beechwold Hardware is made of magic, and carries a full range of metric-sized shelf supports, including metal ones! (Most big-box flat-pack bookcases take 5mm pegs; most big-box hardware stores only carry plastic 5mm pegs, which in my experience shear off and dump a shelf-full of books on the floor.)  This means that I've now got most of my books unpacked, yay!

BadThing: I left my multitool sitting, open, in the middle of the floor.  I then proceeded to kick it and bury the point a quarter-inch in the ball of the foot (before sending it skittering across the floor).

GoodThing:  I finally got around to making chicken stock, which I've been meaning to do.  Six quarts of homemade chicken stock, huzzah!

BadThing: I couldn't find my roasting pan to save my soul.  Matter of fact, I couldn't find any of my baking dishes.  This is a problem, since I tend to stack bags of stock in the roasting pan to freeze flat and contained.

GoodThing: This led me to finally conduct a really, really, really thorough search, since that brought the tally of missing items to not only the baking dishes, but also the loaf pans and the sheet pans.  I discovered that what had seemed to be a box full of useless crap was actually a box of useful baking dishes covered with a layer of useless crap.  Aha.

BadThing: Cherry tomatoes, languishing in a plastic sack on the countertop, had begun to explode and putrefy.

GoodThing: Still enough good ones left to make a three-quarter sheet pan full of oven-dried tomatoes (think sun-drieds, but not, you know, sun-dried).

BadThing: I ran out of motivation to make a Better-Than-French Onion Dip idea I have running around in my head.

GoodThing: I did manage to bake some bread today.  And there's always tomorrow!

Also I watched Jurassic Park today and it was lovely.  Clever girl.
yrmencyn: (armadillo)
It is 1:50 AM.  It is 62 degrees outside, forecasted to dip down to 57 before dawn.  Apparently there *is* a temperature range where I will sleep with the windows open, but my neighbors' infernal central air unit won't kick on.  I get weirdly bent out of shape about this, as former roommates can attest, so the current situation is pleasing.

On a sidenote, I just realized that Ohio sounds very different from Texas.  If this were Texas, all I would hear would be cicadas.  This being Ohio, it's crickets.  (Yes, if there were a Magicicada brood around, it'd be different, but as I recall Columbus doesn't get much in the way of periodical cicadas, only annuals.)  And I knew this, of course, but I don't normally think about it consciously.
yrmencyn: (qc - drunk)
1.  I was thinking earlier today, when I was working at the DMP: I like military guys, as an instructor and as an office worker.  They're generally pretty fit, which is pleasing to the eye, and they're almost always polite -- I never, but never get called "Sir" in my job, and yet there they are saying "Yes, sir" and being all respectful.  Good times.

2.  We had a new campus preacher out today, in the plaza at 15th & High.  As I was walking by, I caught "...but we [presumably the members of his group] no longer see through a mirror darkly; we see crystal clear!"  Pretty fucking presumptuous, buddy.
yrmencyn: (Default)
Silver lining?  No one is allowed to judge me on amount or kind of food I eat.  I need sustenance!  I'm eating for two!  (Me + alien organism trying to consume my body.)  So if I feel like eating leftover rice mixed with leftover spaghetti sauce, which constitutes my third large meal of the day, even though I usually only eat twice a day?  Oh, and I slept for, like three hours this afternoon and I'm about to sleep again?  Whatever, I'm sick.  It's like being pregnant, only without, you know, the promise of new life.
yrmencyn: (qc - drunk)
New roommate got here at about 11 tonight.

I haven't lived with someone I didn't already know in two years.

It's weird hearing someone else move around.

Jesus I'm tired from cleaning.
yrmencyn: (qc - drunk)

 OK. So. I just went on weather.com, and I saw an ad for one of the most aggravating products ever, Smirnoff Mojito. I give the ad for reference.

There are SO many things wrong with this product I don't know where to start. First off, There Is No Such Thing As A Vodka Mojito. Sorry, there just isn't. It's a rum drink. Second, it should be mixed fresh; if you're bottling it all that will happen is that you lose the crisp brightness that is the hallmark of a well-prepared mojito. Third, and almost as damning as the liquor choice: kaffir lime. I mean, yay, I'm glad that Americans have now heard of this herb, but it simply doesn't belong in a mojito. You're looking for regular old Persian limes, and certainly not their leaves. The kaffir business is simply blatant faddism.

Sad to do that to such a fine drink.

 Smirnoff Mojito Ad
yrmencyn: (Default)
I couldn't decide which gender was more appropriate, so I took both.

102

As a 1930s husband, I am
Very Superior

Take the test!



54

As a 1930s wife, I am
Average

Take the test!



Turns out I'm a much better husband than wife.  This is surprising and funny to me.
yrmencyn: (Default)
Headline: Fake bus stop keeps Alzheimer's patients from wandering off

Basically, a nursing home in Germany requested a fake bus stop outside their facility, so they wouldn't have to use police searchers to track down their wandering residents:
"They know the green and yellow bus sign and remember that waiting there means they will go home."

The result is that errant patients now wait for their trip home at the bus stop, before quickly forgetting why they were there in the first place.

"We will approach them and say that the bus is coming later and invite them in for a coffee," said Richard Neureither, Benrath's director. "Five minutes later they have completely forgotten they wanted to leave."

Honestly, it's a really smart, low-tech idea, but I also find it deeply sad.
yrmencyn: (Default)
I find it a little disturbing how the authors of this article basically discuss the people in question -- an isolated tribe in far western Brazil near the Peruvian border -- as animals, not as human beings.  On the one hand the problems they face are much more similar to those faced by endangered animals than to anything else, but on the other... well, they're not animals.  No matter how isolated from society, how 'primitive' (and what an insulting word that is), they're still human beings.  And yet the rhetoric of dehumanization might just save them and their way of life.
yrmencyn: (qc - drunk)
I suppose this is technically NSFW: this )
yrmencyn: (qc - drunk)
I'm glad no one's in the house with me right now.  I'm playing Rilo Kiley's newest album, Under the Blacklight, which Kevin got me for Christmas, and I can't stop dancing.  I'm not a terribly good dancer, but I really enjoy the bizarre movements I make while dancing around the kitchen -- so I'm glad no one's around to make me feel self-conscious.

Ooh, yeah, feels good to be free...
yrmencyn: (vdub)
I really love the concept of dark matter.  You know, the non-visible, basically non-sensible not-really-matter (yet, uh, not antimatter) that apparently makes up the majority of the universe?  Yeah, that.  It's hilarious to me, because there are all these theories and conjectures about it, yet they don't really seem to have... evidence?  Or if there is evidence, it doesn't really show up in the sources I read.

So yes, apparently the first stars in the universe were 'dark stars' -- which is a Grateful Dead reference, y'all -- that were gargantuan, in case you were wondering.  Cause why not?  It could happen? 

Ooh, and you know what else?  They weren't spheroid, but instead were unicorn-shaped.  Because they were manifestations of the IPU (mhhnbs).  Which is appropriate, when you think about it.
yrmencyn: (food)
So, I've been making this wild-propagated sourdough starter.  And it's a little stinky right now.  But I think maybe it's supposed to be.  Although I'm getting conflicting information about how one goes about this process, so it's a little hard to say.  So this is fun.  I'm very hopeful that we'll see improvement in the next couple days, and the sourness will mature into a delightful yeastiness, but for right now?  I have a stinky bowl of flour water on my microwave.  Yeeha.
yrmencyn: (armadillo)
I'm home, thought I'd mention.  I'll right more about DC later, but for right now I just want to mention the landscaping madness going on at the building next door.  I kept hearing this sound of chains clanking, and revving engines, and them loud clanging noises, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the hell was going on; I had these weird visions of men wrapping chains around lawnmower blades, then yanking the pull-cord, just to see what would happen.  The truth is, they are using a pickup truck to uproot the bushes around the building.  One end of the chain is attached to the truck's hitch, and the other gets wrapped around the base of the bush.  Effective, certainly, but (a) they're perfectly nice bushes and (b) no wonder that building's lawn is so rutted all the time.
yrmencyn: (armadillo)
Oh, for the love of God and all that is holy.

This is the reason I try to be caffeinated early in the morning.  For the saga of my attempts to drive around this morning to the gas station and to my airport, look at this Google Map I made.  An excuse to use my new favorite online toy -- at least there's that silver lining.
yrmencyn: (qc - drunk)
I'm... really confused by this one.  OK, so, you remember I came out to my family back in January?  Well, I got a number of positive responses back, and no negative responses.  I also didn't get responses from a fair number of people; I'll let you draw your own conclusions.  Well, there was one aberrant response, which was a long hand-written letter from my Aunt S.  S is very, very, very Catholic, of the extremely Old School variety, and the letter wasn't too far out of what I expected.  Very loving, very concerned with me (and my health, and my soul), and utterly backward (in my opinion) on matters of sexual orientation (not to mention harboring some very basic misunderstandings of the current research on nature/nurture and the particularities of certain medicoanatomical concepts [although she was spot-on that "sexual expression between men" does "frequently involve sodomy" -- I really haven't the words]).

But that's just background.  As Kevin and I were walking out the front door this morning, we saw that the mail had come.  Among a number of bills and other terribly exciting junk, I saw that there was a large envelope from Aunt S.  I really didn't know what to expect, but I knew there was no way I was waiting four or five hours to open it, so I went back inside with it.  What was inside?  You would never guess.  No, really.  Inside was a cardboard plaque/print from the Confraternity of the Precious Blood, along with a prayer book from same and a letter from S.  It turns out, she's enrolled me in the Confraternity, which "means that [I] and [my] intentions will always be included in the prayers of the cloistered sisters at the Monastery of the Precious Blood."¹  Now, you know, it's very sweet, sort of.  Although upon close examination, we all decided that she probably sent off the enrollment form around the same time she wrote me the first letter, which makes this an implicit response to my coming out.  It's like she's trying to guide me back to the right path.  And, you know, whatever.  It's a little insulting, as if I myself am not able to make my own religious decisions (oh, and I'm going to hell because I happen to have fallen in love with another man), but whatever.  That's not the thing that's really bothering me here.

The thing that's really bothering is that I can't figure out how this whole enrollment business isn't simony.  Let me lay this out.

  1. Definition: simony is the selling of religious things.  Put a bit more formally, it is "a deliberate intention of buying or selling for a temporal price such things as are spiritual of annexed unto spirituals"²

  2. This enrollment is not free.  "One year, Perpetual, and Family memberships are available to living members. Enrollment is $7.00,$15.00, and $30.00."³

  3. To make explicit: punishments (excommunication, to be exact), are to be rendered against, among others, "such as are guilty of simony by purchasing or selling admission into a religious order."²

  4. Now, the enrollment does not make me a member of the cloistered sisters of the Monastery, of course.  But it does "[bestow] the Privilege [sic] of Sharing in the merits of the DAILY PRAYRERS [sic], PENANCES, and NIGHTHOUR of REPARATION of our CLOISTERED SISTERS and of the HOLY MASSES and NOVENAS offered up under the Auspices of our CONFRATERNITY at the MONASTERY of the PRECIOUS BLOOD."³

I don't know.  I'm hardly a canon lawyer, and there are some weird provisos which may be at play here (i.e. "It is likewise simony to accept temporal compensation for admission into a religious order; but contributions made by candidates to defray the expenses of their novitiate as well as the dowry required by some female orders are not included in this prohibition."²).  Nevertheless, my gut instinct is that this sounds a bit like a racket, and it makes me uncomfortable.  The buying and selling of indulgences was one of the biggest factors in the upheaval we know as the Reformation -- hell, the Dominicans relied on practices we would now call simoniacal for pretty much all of their income during the Middle Ages.  And given I spent a lot of time last quarter dealing with medieval Dominican texts, you'll forgive me if I'm a bit leery.

--------------
¹ B-----, S-----.  Personal letter to the author.  11 April 2007.
² "Simony."  The Catholic Encyclopedia (1912).  <http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/14001a.htm>.
³ "Join Us."  The Confraternity of the Precious Blood.  <http://www.confraternitypb.org/joinus.html<.
yrmencyn: (food)
Reverend mother, he is the Kwisatz Caterach.
yrmencyn: (armadillo)
I occasionally have these moments where I realize that I am just a little strange.  Perhaps even more than a little.  Example: I had been watching some TV in the living room (30 Rock, by the way, just keeps getting better and better.  Tina Fey?  Is your God now.), and I wandered into the bedroom to see what Kevin was up to.  Not weird, right?  Well.

Point 1: He asked if I could hand him the glass of water on the nightstand, which I of course did.  While doing my best impression of a simpering slavegirl.  Sure, I came out looking more like a disappointed prostitute, but that's really more a measure of my acting ability than anything else, isn't it.

Point 2: We were discussing the book he's reading (Kim Stanley Robinson's Fifty Degrees Below), and he mentioned that the character Frank in this book is just like the Frank in the Mars trilogy.  My brain's addition?  "Except that this one is a giant pigeon."  Which... comes from nowhere.

I feel like I'm living in a surrealist experiment.

In other news, I have a big crush on Jonas Armstrong, who plays Robin Hood on the BBC's series of the same name, season 1 of which is currently airing on BBC America.  It's weird, I swear I've seen him somewhere before, but he's been in relatively few things, so I dunno.  Might just fit into one of my general attractiveness profiles.  The show, by the way?  Is hilarious.  Of course, sometimes you're laughing with the show, and sometimes against it.  The show's music is blatantly stolen from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, to the extent that I'm sure Michael Kamen's got a lawsuit in there somewhere (well, along with John Barry, since the romance theme is lifted pretty much straight from Dances with Wolves).  The acting in the first episode was so atrocious that I nearly turned it off.  That being said, it picked up quickly, and now there's a lot of good stuff going on.  There was some interesting socioeconomic stuff going around in the first couple eps -- the Robin Hood myth has always had a socialist/commun(al)ist cant to it, at least in my experience, but this one talked about social prosperity for all classes through economic reinvigoration.  Salvation through the market.

In other other news --

Ooh!  Hee, sorry, 'nother Robin Hood thing, he just quoted the Koran.  Hehheh.  This show, it's all about historical revisionism.  That, and harnessing the collective cultural mythology to engender social change.  You know.  Where was I?  Oh yes.

-- so yes, in other other news, do you remember the Phillips BodyGroom?  You may have heard about it last year, since its website was a pretty big viral marketing hit (check it out, it has a terrifically smarmy humor about it).  Anyway, it's a body hair shaver/trimmer.  When it first came out, I was... shall we say, skeptical.  But times change, people change.  Erin, Mandi, Katie: don't judge me.  I'm thinking I might get one.  I enjoy a good trim, I like the way it looks and feels.  I'm tiring, however of using scissors.  This truth was really brought home to me a few days ago when I had this deep desire to hack down the shrubbery, but couldn't find my scissors.  So I did what any logical person would do, and used the kitchen shears.  This worked well until it came time to trim my nipple rugs (seriously, y'all, my nips are just ridiculous), and I seem to have misjudged both distance between tool and flesh, and sliciness of my finely crafted implements.  I now have a little wedge-shaped cut on the edge of my areola, and that's ridiculous.  A testament to my shears, though: very clean cut, barely felt it at all.

There.  Now you're in my world.  Isn't it a fun place to be?

Blah.

Oct. 1st, 2006 11:09 pm
yrmencyn: (Default)
Note to self: watch Gilmore Girls season premiere AFTER you finish your work for class, not before.  While it may seem like you need (deserve?) a break, you will not feel in any mood to work after you've lain in the dark on the couch for 45 minutes.  Especially if your stomach is unaccountably being unpleasant.

EDIT: Ha! Be vanquished, evil thing. I really haven't the vaguest idea if I produced what Phelan's looking for, but it seems rightish, and at least it's tangible.

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