kivrin: Peter Wimsey in academic dress (academic lord peter)
( Sep. 22nd, 2014 05:16 pm)
So, you remember in Gaudy Night how Lord Peter's "John Doe" name for a student is "Mr. Jones of Jesus [College]" and upon meeting Mr. Pomfret he says something along the lines of "Good God, it's Mr. Jones of Jesus" to which Mr. Pomfret replies "Who are you calling a bloody Welshman?"

I have always been mildly perplexed by Pomfret's response, but recent browsing through the histories of Oxford colleges* has revealed that Jesus College was for a time (as in, for about two centuries, from the early eighteenth century to the early twentieth though not at the time of its foundation in the early sixteenth century**) almost exclusively Welsh in student population, with fellowships reserved not merely for Welshmen but for men from SPECIFIC AREAS OF WALES.

So it's a college joke as well as a name joke.

* With the aim of choosing a college for Andrew Foyle. All we know, canonically, is that he's a member of the college Howard Paige attended, which is rather dire because given the apparent Trinity-Balliol rivalry it would be pleasing to send Paige to Trinity ("What could one expect of a Trinity man?" Lord Peter might say of HP) it would not be pleasing to condemn Andrew to the same fate.
**Insert Eddie Izzard routine about the attitude of Americans to history because that is the sort of face I keep making when I think hard about how long Oxford has been going.
What it actually says: seeking volunteers for a research study, blahblah qualifications, time/travel reimbursement available.

What I read: TIMETRAVEL reimbursement available.


- A lifetime of reading (mostly) amateur-sleuth mysteries is poor preparation for a police-procedural fandom, especially a very small one where there aren't fannish resources. I need a 20th-century law-enforcement equivalent of What Charles Dickens Ate and Jane Austen Knew.

- There appears to be no P.D. James fic in the world. Not even from Yuletide. Not even based on the dramatizations. I sort of expected there to be a small but devoted circle of Adam Dalgliesh/Cordelia Gray shippers writing multi-part curtainfic.

- Department of meta jokes: This bit of Acorn Media's "hey look at all the videos we'll sell you" montage, in which Helen Mirren as Jane Tennison says "Don't call me ma'am, I'm not the bloody queen" and there's a cut to Michael Kitchen as Christopher Foyle saying "Well, unfortunately, the evidence suggests otherwise."

- Apropos of the above, should The Doctor turn up, B&R and I are going to see tiny!baby!Helen Mirren in the 1965 National Youth Theater Antony and Cleopatra, with tiny!baby!Michael Kitchen in a small role. (And then we'll go see Antony Sher's Richard III and Patrick Stewart's Othello and the original cast of My Fair Lady and Liam Neeson and Laura Linney in The Crucible and...)

- Department of Foyle's War spoilers, Series 7/8 (depending on numbering) Ep 1: The Eternity Ring: Read more... ). Short version: still not planning to take anything after V-E Day as canon.

- I would really like to see the other scripts Anthony Horowitz apparently wrote for 1943 and 1944 but had to throw out due to ITV being all "hmph, only one more series for you."

- Connected only by WWII, Strange Glory by Charles Marsh is a very good life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It's... well, it's pretty grim, because Nazis, and there's a good deal of fairly serious theology covered, but it's readable and informative and I'm glad I'm reading it as my first Bonhoeffer bio and not the Eric Metaxes one.
kivrin: (goofy boys (cannonsfan))
( Sep. 10th, 2013 01:20 pm)
- I already miss having a guaranteed shot of John Oliver available four days a week on The Daily Show, but it helps that The Bugle is back from hiatus.

- After months of having no creative energy for it, I have picked up knitting again and am working on some long-overdue mitts for a friend. I have also almost finished a baby cardigan for the impending third child of my oldest friends; I just need to wash and block it and sew on the button.

- Related to the above, I've made some strides in organizing or at least consolidating my stash of yarn and my knitting tools. The needles and other tools are now jumbled in a single drawer rather than being jumbled in three mesh cubes and two hanging bags distributed around my... GirlCave really doesn't sound good, does it? I'll say Introvert's Lair. I also frogged a cardigan I'd been knitting for myself but haven't touched for about five years, having realized that I probably wouldn't wear it; it was too bulky. I've wound the yarn and added it to the stash.

- Semi-related, I join the rest of the internet in recommending I've been reading it for months, and while it hasn't changed my life or the household, I think it has been helping with incremental steps, and the reminder that small steps help, and are more sustainable than marathons.

- Last month, in the final week of The Tempest at the Globe in London, Colin Morgan got sick and was unable to perform for most of the week. The Globe doesn't use understudies (and has an odd note on their website blaming it on the fact that they're not subsidized, which gives me an unfamiliar twinge of HARUMPH IN THE US WE HAVE UNDERSTUDIES WITHOUT SUBSIDIES! but I digress) so when an actor is out someone from the ensemble goes on carrying the script. Given the scope and passion of CM's fanbase, this was probably more than ordinarily terrifying for the man going on, but the fans reportedly behaved beautifully and a number in fact went around to the stage door, cheered the not-understudy when he came out, and asked for his autograph. DOING IT RIGHT, folks, DOING IT RIGHT.

- In the department of Doing Fandom Wrong, allegedly some young woman called Benedict Cumberbatch's hotel room. I say allegedly because she claims to have spoken with him, and in this day and age I can't imagine someone picking up a landline if they're not expecting a call. Still, ack, secondhandembarassment ack.

- QI Series K is in progress, and available on YouTube.

- A 2.916-year-old of my acquaintance has recently learned the now-I-understand "mmHHMMMmm" noise, as I found when he trotted up as I was playing a John-Oliver-on-Mock-the-Week clip. "What him name?" "His name is John Oliver." "oooOOOOohhh."
ME: Everyone always rags on David Mitchell for being ridiculously posh but he just doesn't seem that posh to me. Maybe it's another You Have To Be British thing.
B&R: Well, they probably just pick something. And he is pretty posh, he went to Cambridge and all.
ME: Does that make him that unusual on the British comedy scene? Stephen Fry went to Cambridge.
B&R: Stephen Fry is in a class by himself. A class made entirely of tweed.
ME: Right, fair point. But other people went to Cambridge! Not Lee Mack and Alan Davies but other people. I mean, nobody rags on HUGH LAURIE for being posh!
B&R: That's not about him being posh, that's about him being HUGH LAURIE. You don't rag on him AT ALL. Or his revenge will be swift and terrible.
ME: Right. Or long delayed and even MORE terrible.
B&R: Right.
ME: And involve the playing of blues harmonica at you.
B&R: Probably.
ME: And sometime, much later, when you're hanging around before a filming you might mention that you've taken up a new hobby of, like, macrame, and Hugh would say "oh, that's quite interesting, have you any macrame string here?" and you'd pass so over and he'd whip up a large Hadron collider out of it and say "oh yes, I see how that could be very relaxing."
B&R: I think you need to tell the internet about that.
INTERNET I AM NOT DEAD though I am somewhat numb from dental work this afternoon. (Protip: if you're going to have to spend a lot of time with your head back during your allergy season, take a frickin' decongestant and avoid freaking out mid-cavity-filling about possibly suffocating on your postnasal drip.)

I come bearing links:

Stephen Fry with a beard.

The Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theater (and so am I! and so is he!) does Sherlock. Funniest if you're up-to-date on Doctor Who. Actually funniest if you're up-to-date on Doctor Who and have a well-rounded knowledge of British popular culture, which means that when BreadandRoses and I watched it the other night with our friend N-the-actual-British-guy, in aggregate we were the perfect audience.

It's fortunate that N finds our Anglophila charming and not appropriative or anything.

I have been knitting a lot in response to an ONGOING EXPLOSION OF BABIES. For local friends, whose baby's pre-birth alias was Stormaggedon (Stormy for short) I adapted the ever-popular TARDIS dish cloth into a blanket. For less local friends, of which there are several, I have been practicing a baby pullover pattern, which I recommend highly because it does not require any seaming.

This morning I was all set to make a power point presentation that included a picture of Giles to kick off a "who watches the watchers?" discussion about internal security in special collections libraries... but there was a problem with the laptop, so I just talked. Giles would be huffily satisfied by the technological failure. I was spared the frustration of having it confirmed that none of my colleagues watched Buffy. I did, however, get a good response to a TARDIS reference in a meeting two weeks ago, which somewhat makes up for the disappointment of two REALLY GOOD Python references I've made in the reading room, both of which were wasted on ignorant audiences. (First one was in response to a regular researcher half-jokingly complaining about the noise level in the reading room. "I need to register a complaint!" he said. "You wish to register a complaint?" I said. "About the manuscript you received not half an hour ago in this very boutique?" He laughed, but an "I see you have made an intentionally humorous sally" laugh, not a "well placed reference, madam" laugh. Second was in conversation with a researcher about pronunciation of an obscure possibly-Germanic-but-no-one-was-sure name. I offered my instinctive reading, with a caveat that it was instinctual and not reasoned, and the researcher said "no problem, if someone questions me..." and I jumped in "And says it's pronounced Throatwobbler Mangrove" " Philadelphia they say [name]," she finished. And I, again, said internally, "alas.")

In conclusion, Jon Stewart, are you on vacation AGAIN? Hmph.
kivrin: Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes looking elegant (Holmes (wens))
( Mar. 1st, 2012 10:37 pm)
- There is a Giant Stupid Genealogy Event at work which is possibly going to cause extreme crazy tomorrow and Monday. And then I have a big event Wednesday night. I am full of a Blackadderian sense of exhaustion and dread, not least because my boss and grandboss have recently been excelling themselves in Baldrickian stupidity.

- Someone has written David Mitchell/Dara O'Briain UST with good voices and it is awesome. Dara and David's Art Follies by Karaokegal. Features a cameo that will be of interest to White Collar watchers.

- And speaking of White Collar, whyyyyy is the season over already? WC Spoilers within )
kivrin: Winnie the Pooh falling out of a tree (pooh bother (curtana))
( Nov. 20th, 2011 11:57 am)
hmph. I think this script might have escaped from s2. )

In other news, this is the five hundred and eighty-seventh Sunday after Pentecost, and next Sunday is Advent 1. It's still WRONG that both the supermarket and the CVS were playing Christmas music when I went shopping yesterday, but it could be wronger.
kivrin: the words "I knit so I don't kill people" (knit kill (coconutswirl))
( Sep. 20th, 2011 04:36 pm)
- I am trying madly to finish an overdue contribution to a knit-a-thon for the benefit of people living with breast or ovarian cancer. I'm working on a striped scarf in a lovely feather-and-fan pattern. I like the pattern but all the ends I'm going to have to weave in are discouraging to contemplate.
- I am starting to think holiday knitting thoughts. I've misplaced my pattern for this Botanic Hat but as soon as I unearth it I want to start on one in blue and gray for one of my no-longer-so-very-young cousins.

- Picked up Barbara Ehrenreich's Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream yesterday. Like Nickel and Dimed, it is well-observed and persuasive and deeply disheartening, the more so because it describes the world of unemployment as it was circa 2004 - and the picture is only worse now. I want to take both books and beat certain powerful individuals with them.

- a new season of QI
- odd episodes of "Would I Lie To You," most recently an episode that had Lee Mack asking David Mitchell "Too large for what? THE SEA?"
- Doctor Who, of course. I am, at the moment, feeling some dissatisfaction with the split season because I feel like we got almost all meaty arc-y episodes in the first half and we've had mostly one-off-with-arc-y-nods episodes in the second half.
- A Bit Of Fry And Laurie, which will go off Netflix Streaming on Friday. I'm on an ancient grandfathered plan that allows five hours of streaming a month, which will not be quite enough to get through all the episodes we've not yet seen, but we're going to give it a jolly good try.
- Soon, s2 of Downton Abbey.

- Kat Eggleston's renditions of old and should-be-old ballads in which women are NOT screwed over. "The Flower of Northumberland," "Banks of Sweet Dundee," "Birken Tree," and "The Naked Highwayman." (Her original songs are frequently good also.)
- John Oliver's news podcast "The Bugle." It's funny, and for the John-Oliver focused, also is a source of tidbits like the fact that he has a puppy named Hoagie. A PUPPY NAMED HOAGIE.
kivrin: Wash from Firefly in a hawaiian shirt (wash shirt (seanarenay))
( Aug. 2nd, 2011 11:41 pm)

- Checkers set, circa 1930s, slightly moldy
- Parcheesi set, circa 1930s
- Diary with 1934-5 calendar in front and handwriting suggesting it was used sporadically over about five years.
- 1944 BS in Home Economics diploma
- Family Christmas letters in mimeo for 1964-1967
- carbon paper
- mimeo paper
- several boxes of paper clips
- a box of labels for specific types of pickles and preserves
- engraved invitations to a church reception
- small cards engraved with "Mrs. [Kivrin's Grandfather]" which I can only imagine are visiting cards.
- a massive cache of notecards of all sorts and vintages, neatly sorted into boxes of Christmas, birthday, sympathy/get well, and other.
- Drafts of my grandparents' will, circa 1961
- Report card for one of my uncles, for the 1958-1959 school year
- Birthday and valentine cards sent from my grandfather to my grandmother
- a notebook containing my grandmother's lesson plans for teaching Home Ec in the 1970s
- three envelopes of photos from my uncle's first wedding. (The quality of nearly all the pictures is poor. This was, perhaps, a sign.)
- a bundle of newspaper that turned out to be a pattern for a jacket and skirt.
- the bill from the florist for my parents' wedding ceremony.

In other news, it is possible that a pack of feral Benedictines have moved in around the corner from us. At least, one of the row houses there now has ALL WHO ENTER HERE ARE WELCOMED AS CHRIST painted over the door, and I've seen definite prayer posture on the porch. I surmise that they're feral because one evening, shortly before the unRapture, I heard from their open door the strains of "Abide With Me" sung, poorly, to the accompaniment of a guitar and a bongo drum. I believe structured formation would eliminate such infelicities. (Also, I'd think it would be more useful to have the "welcome visitors as Christ" sign on the inside of the door, but perhaps that's just me.
- Knit and watch tv eight hours a day.

- Sleep for a really long time.

...that's kind of it.

However, I think I can muster up the oomph for the Holiday Anonymous Love Meme now in progress. I have a thread here and would welcome links to other folks' threads.
Or, today in Stuff Hypereducated Thirtysomething White Urban Women In The Eastern US Like...

TRADER JOE's. Dark-chocolate-covered-peppermint-filled-oreoesque-cookies! TWELVE-INCH CHRISTMAS-TREE-SHAPED ROSEMARY BUSHES! One of those things I purchased, the other I did not. Proportions may alter in coming weeks.

I also purchased massive quantities of sour cream to go with the massive quantities of latkes to be consumed this weekend.

As another part of my stereotype-fulfillment, I also like Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
A Colbert Christmas: Jon Stewart
Colbert Report Full Episodes2010 ElectionMarch to Keep Fear Alive
- Giant, stupid work project of rage is complete. I may be a slightly less tedious conversationalist now. Maybe.

- I have repaid my karmic debt to Greyhoundliz for her heroic scrubbing of the Lush Youki-hi bath bomb stains out of my tub the last time I moved. To wit: I scrubbed her stovetop, her sink, and two freezers.

- I should not gain any merit from taking Science Soprano's cantoring responsibilities for Sunday, since I will enjoy getting to cantor for R the choir director one last time before she buggers off for her fabulous new job in FRANCE.

- Though maybe I should, since I am also up next week, and will have to be the first to work with Interim!ChoirGuy and Interim!Organist.

- Though Wednesday is my late morning, today I got up at more or less the regular time and... well, mostly read and drank tea, but I did also do a load of laundry and create a tiny bit more order in the apartment.

- I'm on a London-Blitz-and-postwar kick, it seems - I've been grazing in David Kynaston's monumental Austerity Britain, as well as reading Connie Willis' All Clear and Sarah Waters' The Night Watch. Recommendations gratefully accepted.
There's something I was going to post about, but now I can't remember what it was. I wish I could, because at the moment I'm profoundly cranky about work and could use the distraction.

Maybe it was about this ongoing dialogue between my legs and my brain:

LEGS (led by LEFT HIP): HEY! You went to Pilates yesterday!

BRAIN: Yes. You were there.

LEGS: What'd you do THAT for?

BRAIN: Because fitness is good.

LEGS: It was HARDER than the first time!

BRAIN: Yeah, I did notice that.

LEGS: Is it going to KEEP getting harder?

BRAIN: I hope not.

ABS: HEY! You went to Pilates yesterday!

So yesterday, after a grismal (that would be grisly and dismal at once) day at work, I went to a painfully upscale restaurant-bar for a quiet drink and twenty minutes with the new The Sun magazine. I'd been thinking of a beer or maybe a Hendricks G&T, but I ended up getting an Old-Fashioned, and it made me remember how I once (pre-LJ, pre-wikipedia, high days of late-college hubris) used the drink in a fic in a hilariously tone-deaf manner.

An Old-Fashioned is a drink that gives you an idea of how horrible Prohibition-era bathtub spirits must have been. It's bourbon, poured over ice and muddled lemon and/or orange, maraschino cherry, and sugar. Okay, and bitters, but there's a lot of fruit. I would hazard a guess that it's the girliest way there is to drink bourbon.

As a non-drinking twenty-year-old from a family of minimal-drinkers, I had never seen mixed drinks except the ones on menus in Chinese restaurants, and I knew of Old Fashioneds from a Jack Finney novel (The Woodrow Wilson Dime) in which the despairing New York advertising man makes them when he comes home from work. From that, I concluded that they were Serious Drinks for People With Sophisticated Palates, and were more mature and complex than martinis.

So. When I had a scene with a romantic dinner between a retired Navy captain (who in my personal canon had something of an anti-sweet-tooth) and a beautiful-yet-tough-a-la-Katharine-Hepburn multi-doctorate'd scientist... I had the Navy man make them Old-Fashioneds, thinking I was lending a serious-yet-sophisticated scotch-and-soda vibe to the scene, rather than a just-shy-of-paper-umbrellas vibe.

The story is mercifully not available to me right now, so I can't check to see if the disconnect is as obvious in the reading as it is to me in the remembering. But it makes me want to send an email to my younger self to say "psst! honey! get a liquor-picker to go over your stories, or get a cocktail book! ideally both!"
kivrin: Giles labeled "rupertus domesticus" (domestic!giles (cheesygirl))
( Sep. 13th, 2010 11:28 am)
On Saturday [ profile] breadandroses, [ profile] greyhoundliz and I went to pick raspberries. In two hours, we collected over six pounds. We've frozen most of ours, and eaten a lot; tonight I'm going to cook what's left into either sauce or curd.

[ profile] breadandroses's college friend A came to visit that night; I love having a guest who, when asked if we can get her anything, responds "A large glass of water, please, and a copy of Tennyson's "Ulysses" if you have such a thing."

On Sunday I sang Psalm 51 in plainchant, which, as the choir director says, I could probably do in my sleep, though I'm more used to doing it antiphonally than as a solo with congregational antiphons every three verses. We've stopped doing Morning Prayer before the 10am Eucharist, which is reasonable since it was almost always just the choir and the presider and the liturgical assistants of the day, but which is not saving any time for the singers because now we're having choir practice from 9am until 9:55, rather than just until 9:25.

Work will, I hope, become less annoying than it's been over the summer, because last week my boss got a kick in the pants to start bossing.
I will not troll.


She just finished an MA at Oxford; I don't know whether to be disappointed in the university's lack of standards, or heartened that I would have a better shot than I thought at getting into such a program if I wanted to.


In happy knitting news, I am over three-quarters done with my second Elder Sibling Crown of the summer. I hope it's as well-received as the first was. For those interested, the pattern is "Loved" and the yarn is Comfy Bulk from, and I could easily have made two crowns with two skeins (though I've used three because I wanted different colors for each.)


Last weekend I went to the beach for what might have been the first time in nine years, since I rode out a hurricane in Panama City Beach, FL with some friends, drinking hard lemonade and reading aloud from book three of A Series of Unfortunate Events. [ profile] breadandroses and I went to Ocean City, NJ with the World's Cutest 3-year-old and her parents. We lunched on crepes, then set ourselves up on the beach and jumped over waves, dug in the sand, ate lots of frozen custard and fried dough, and went on a few rides on the boardwalk. And then had dinner at the world's slowest Chinese restaurant, and the kid and I were briefly trapped in the ladies' room by a sticky deadbolt. I had her on my hip because she wanted to switch off the light, but I had to dissuade her without freaking her out because I could not get the door open. All ended happily, though.

There was a hilarious moment in the car coming home. All four adults were trying to get the kid to sack out and sleep, and she was trying to resist, of course. She insisted she needed my sarong from the swim bag as a blanket "because it has stars and moons for nighttime!" I covered her up, asking if her bunny and giraffe wanted to be tucked in too. "I think... I think they want to be left alone," she said, shoving them down by the door. I tucked her in and said good night. Literally a moment later, she sat bolt upright and said "I don't think it's working." "Sweetie, you need to give it more than a nanosecond, okay?" I said. I tucked her in again, and by dint of everyone in the car except the driver pretending to sleep, we got her to drop off.


In televisual news, Merlin set reports, pictures, and cast interviews make me both happy and annoyed beyond all reason. Happy because Colin Morgan is still an adorable studious good-natured little squishyface and Bradley James is the world's first successful nerd/jock hybrid and Tony Head giggling is like frickin' champagne and I want Richard Wilson to be my extra grandfather. Annoyed because where the hell is Angel Coulby, people? Katie McGrath is perfectly lovely and all but I want more Gwen in the show and more Angel in behind-the-scenes stuff. (More Gwen, but not more Gwen/Arthur, or at least better Gwen/Arthur than last time.)

In other televisual news, [ profile] breadandroses and I have begun watching White Collar and are well and truly hooked.

Also, Patrick Stewart in MacBeth will be on PBS in October. Markez-vous vos, um, calenders, tout le monde.
...the most intellectual man on crime/ can solve [twice the? many?] problems in half the time!

If anyone else had that cassette, I will be quite amazed.

Everything behind cuts is spoilerriffic.

Sherlock, Episode Two, upon which I concur with and and other wise folks.

Read more... )

Sherlock, Episode Three

Read more... )

For contrast, last night B&R and I watched the Jeremy Brett/David Burke "A Scandal In Bohemia," which was delightful. Jeremy Brett at the height of his powers is a beautiful thing. I have to say, though, I think my preference for Edward Hardwicke is not merely a matter of "I got interested in Holmes, and by extension the films, during his tenure." I prefer Hardwicke's gravitas and gentler mien, and I find Burke's portrayal too theatrical. I'm always aware, especially in moments of emotion ("You are always in a disputatious mood when you choose that pipe!"), that he's acting. That may seem like a ridiculous charge to level against him when he's standing next to Jeremy Brett who's hardly taking a naturalistic tack, but it's not really possible to play Holmes naturalistically. He has histrionic as well as autistic traits, and Watson, well, doesn't. I think the issue is that Burke didn't have Brett's ability to find a pitch of theatricality that works on the small screen.

Finally, and unrelatedly, here is a list of things I just found in my sock drawer which do not belong there:
- nail clippers
- a packet of cranberry-pomegranate Emergen-C
- Two pairs of circular knitting needles, probably size 7 and size 8
- most of a ball of KnitPicks Comfy Bulky yarn in Fiesta
- a bottle of clear gel Tacky Glue
- a receipt from buying $30 worth of DC Metrocards
- a solicitation to renew my subscription to a theater company
kivrin: a church choir (choir)
( Jun. 11th, 2010 10:08 am)
- A few weeks ago I lost my karaoke virginity. It was surprisingly difficult, though considering how little "songs I know AT ALL" overlapped with "songs on offer" it went quite well. I found it quite hard to hear, and "Take A Chance on Me" by ABBA was a poor choice because it required me to switch registers between the boys' and girls' bits, and when I couldn't quite make it I went into the wrong key, which was embarrassing.

- This morning I have the Fry and Laurie Hey Jude running through my head.

- Last Sunday, during the group tromp up to the altar for communion, someone managed to kick out the plug to the miniconsole for the organ, which makes the whole thing stick on the current chord until the choirmistress can run up to the loft to do something to the main console. So Herbert Howells' MICHAEL had rather a hiatus. Fortunately, there's a piano in the nave and New Bass, though now a grad student in sociology, formerly was a voice performance major in a program that enforced the mastery of basic keyboard skills. So as soon as the choirmistress shut off the organ, New Bass started in on the piano and we picked up with verse 3.

- I was telling a friend the other day about the dream I had a few months before Eprime's wedding, in which Eprime wanted me to play a piano piece during the ceremony, and I thought "Right, I don't know how to play the piano beyond plunking out a melody line written in treble clef, but maybe I can practice reallyreally hard and master this one piece." Then I listened to a recording of this piece and realized that NO, that would not work, and I must have hallucinated the request. Then (still in the dream) I saw Eprime and said "hey, I had the craziest dream that you wanted me to play the piano for your wedding!" "But I do!" said Eprime. "Ummmm," said I. And then there was a lot of stuff about pearl hair ornaments, and then I woke up.
The best distraction ever for a solo session on the stairclimber is a new-to-you Eddie Izzard routine on your headphones. It may cause you to grin like an idiot, but it certainly does make half an hour of sweat and complaining calves go faster.

[ profile] breadandroses found blood orange marmalade at the fancy-pants grocery store and it is AWESOME.

Yesterday was the birthday of Edward Gorey. This is causing me to sing They say that Edward Gorey owned one half of this old town... which could become a very amusing dark filk if done in true nonsequitorial EG style.
kivrin: Peter Wimsey with a Sherlock Holmes quotation (Default)
( Feb. 7th, 2009 12:18 pm)
So. Saturday has begun with me POURING JUST OFF THE BOIL TEA over my left hand. I've soaked it as much as I can bear to in icy water, and there's only a slight red mottling showing on the skin, but it hurts - just a little at rest and more when I touch it or subject it to even tepid water (as when I washed my hands just now.) This may perhaps complicate the cooking plans for this evening's Buffy Night. Perhaps today my job will be Organize Objects rather than Wash Stuff.

I have been reading the Sparkledammerung summary of the Twilight "books" and concluding even more forcefully than I did before that my mother's plan to read them so as to understand her adolescent girl students is A BAD PLAN. Even having her read the summary is A BAD PLAN because I think the hilarious manips that illustrate it will confuse and disturb her even before the plot can do so.

Totally unrelated, does anyone use Audacity for sound editing (particularly converting cassettes to mp3s??) I've got the software in and I've recorded one side of a tape, no problem, but the program won't let me edit the file. I can see "export selection as mp3" but the option is grayed out. Any idea what option I've enabled or disabled that I shouldn't?

ETA Figured it out! I hadn't downloaded the mp3 encoder thingy. That, as it turns out, makes alllllll the difference.


kivrin: Peter Wimsey with a Sherlock Holmes quotation (Default)


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