Woah Nelly

Jan. 16th, 2017 08:04 pm
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
 I kept finding references to "the envelope sonnet" but I wasn't sure which I had meant. Just now I found it. February 2005 paper journal. It's... wow.

an Envelope Sonnet
“Sealed”
 
A feather touch quills each soft, careful line
Each letter caressed with slow, conscious care
Adorned in serif, but with meaning bare
Though posed for you behaved, contained, confined
 
Behind the words, a hushed ardor retreats;
Beneath each phrase, my roiling hungers sink;
My uninvited longing sighs as ink
in strokes across the grain of smooth, calm sheets
 
Restraint is in this poem I write for you
That won’t be copied in digital font,
But do you guess how my desires rage
When my tongue slides along the strip of glue
And tastes the defined edge of this sharp want
Caught in the folding of a paper cage?
 
2/14/2005
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
The plot bunnies have been digging under the fence again. They are in the garden, eating my winter veges.
butterflydreaming: The word "match" is typed in a search engine. The return is "no match". (no match)
Every few years, I dig up my backups and move/copy over to new media, or cloud storage, etc. Recently I noticed that I haven't written much poetry, and what I write I don't type up or post anywhere unless it has some value (I think) to a broader audience.

So the project of yesterday and this morning has been to gather up all my available poems and start a Scrivener document to put them in. I had already been thinking of them in context of periods of my life. They are currently broken into: Caterpillar (1997-2002), In Chrysalis (2000-2007), Here There Be Dragons (2004-2009), Beauty Time (2007-2011) and Lucid Dreaming (2010-current). Eww, that looks pretentious, doesn't it?

A couple of my baby poems are corrupted files. I pretty much have those memorized, though? That's what happens when a short verse is your prayer to get through things. (Also, I have the originals, the double decades old pencil and paper originals.)

It seems like a thing to do.

The last decade has a lot of missing poems. That's because most of them are what I dubbed PFED, "A poem for every day." So, garbage, basically.

- - -

It shouldn't be so hard to write
a poem for every day.
Pen to paper:
wouldn't you like to say a few words?
So much starts to spill out of your head,
Your crowded, noisy mind,
So many things your spirit wants to speak.
So many complaints of the heart.

It shouldn't be so hard to write a poem
for everyday,
You do lesser things, and harder things,
You get up: that's something.

At least have a poem in your day.
One soft, crisp, uncomplicated thing
One thing that is only yours

Where to start? You wonder.
Just tell me three things that come to mind
and write.

4/26/09
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
I was in a mood, so I put my ancient story "Oreads & Other Nymphs" on Wattpad after I uploaded the last half of EoC.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/94183157-oreads-other-nymphs-an-allegory

This stupid keyboard doesn't have the mark up characters to make a link as text.
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
153,854 words, 53 chapters, 3 years.
The longest thing I’ve ever written, fanfiction or otherwise. A complete story, beginning-middle-end, and not a romance.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/10605527/1/Elsa-of-Corona

http://archiveofourown.org/works/1326004/chapters/2760406
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
  1.  Not dead. This is not proof, so you'll just have to trust me on this.
  2. The calm "vacation" feeling has expired. Of course it has; I haven't been away from a rock pile this long since last millenium. That's right, my crap jobs never allowed me to take more than a week of time off. {insert bitter/snide comment about being American}
  3. My mood is generally very good nevertheless. I'm exercising daily (thank you Pokemon Go obsession) and writing daily (thank you NaNoWriMo). My dontwanna To Do list is kind of long, though. My wanna To Do list is also long.
  4. That former coworker R also quit (this week) actually helps. My low-key crazy right now is feeling like I have jobless cooties. There probs actually isn't a big cloud of judgment looming at me. I deal with it by reminding myself that I haven't asked anyone for anything, and that includes inviting friends to hang out.
  5. I forgot until just now to apologize to [personal profile] coffeedaiv for scoffing at his comment about deer in Seattle. There is, in fact, a buck wandering around West Seattle that was first seen in the north end. The West Seattle sightings are numerous... and literally on my block. (Sorry, Daiv!)
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
I'm glad there's wifi on the Rapid Ride buses. (And yay it's working)

Skilz

Sep. 14th, 2016 09:09 am
butterflydreaming: (C)
When I got home last night, my refrigerator door fell off.

I'd like to say I handled that well, going right to the solution. But -no.

In the end, though, I WON. Without needing to contact my landlord. Without having a wrench the right size, etc. Because I have me, and it was a good reminder that I am resourceful, creative, capable, and have value... all things my workplace and new boss have been chipping away from me.

The problem was the door hinge pin. Over thousands of open/close swivels, it had worked its way out. So what I had was a 1/2" diameter smooth cylindrical pin, with a thin top rim, 1/4"ish screw at the top of that, and a gap between the fridge top and door top of about 3/4". If the pin was properly in place, only the smooth section would show in that gap. As is was, all the smooth part had dropped down into the pin well.

I got it back in using a flat screwdriver (to pry up the pin), a zip tie (snugged around the smooth part after lifting), and my brains. To get the screw to thread into its hole, I needed to twist the pin while pressing down on the fridge top where the hole was. Once I got it going, it was just a matter of getting enough grip with the zip tie lasso against smooth metal. (I would have escalated to glue/tape sticky if necessary.)

And now the darn thing should be good for a thousand more door openings.
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
This year's Seattle International Film Festival ad ends with melting Nazi from Raiders of the Lost Ark front and center, this after a rave motif that gets you looking closely to identify movie clips. Kind of a jump scare, definitely triggery.

I've avoided reviewing that imagery for 30+ years.

poem

Apr. 27th, 2016 11:28 am
butterflydreaming: (C)
Share my umbrella
You are taller than me
So I have asked you to
Help me hold it
Above our heads together
And let me walk lively
Beside you
My arm is growing tired
...
We walk with hoodies up
In the cold misery

I would rather not call
The thing that hurts me
By the name of the thing
I love
butterflydreaming: coffee mug (coffee in my mug)
Because the weather was so warm, and I was home before the dog walking hours of the evening, I thought Aya might be able to walk around a bit outside. It's positive reinforcement for being on harness and leash.

We did well enough. He walked around the little strip of garden on the south side of the building, smelling tulips and dirt. When he persisted in chewing the ornamental grass, I took him back in. He didn't want to walk himself back in this time -- he hadn't been scared -- but he didn't resist when I picked him up & carried him.

but then he was a monster )

I'm so tired. I had hoped that the walk would give him some calm, and instead it was the opposite.

But it's not like he's ever been better. Instead, it's like he has good days, but he's mostly awful.

The walk thing, though. It must happen with dogs, too, right? So, maybe there's a trove of helpful info on this subject?
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
Baby pic of me (red overalls & red booties) with my eldest sister, circa 1975

Meanwhile, on Facebook, this happened. I'm in red.
butterflydreaming: pinwheel in rainbow colors (Green Patch pinwheel)
  •  I discovered (late to the party, I'm sure) Rotita, which sells fashion dresses on the cheap. Many of them are skimpy, form fitting, thigh slit, plunge neckline, and about $25. Except for the near certainty that they are low quality materials and made in sweatshops, I wish I could wear a different one every day. There's just something about a hoochie dress that fills my heart with love.
  • And OMG the swimwear. Human beings can't wear those. There are some with fringe!
  • Warmer weather brings me many things for which I am thankful. At the moment, I am pleased that my fine washables dry quicker on the drying rack.
  • Just when I think work sucks worse than ever, it finds ways to suck even more. This week is fired. Someone, please find me a different job, because I haven't managed to do it myself.
  • I'm 44 and I like it more than I did being, say, 22.
  •  

It's April

Apr. 1st, 2016 09:38 am
butterflydreaming: (C)
I was supposed to post a snippet to PCG in March... snippet month was my suggestion. Nothing really came together. Oops? I will post the next coherent thing.

March had a bunch of this and that on, like, eight different existing stories. I did have a story dream, fueled by a heavy dinner and red wine, that was some distopian anime Pitch Black alien swarm business. I'll use that. Creative mind is creative, even though fingers have not been steady on the keyboard.

When I was little, I have monster nightmares. As an adult, I have unpleasant dreams, but no longer worthy of being called nightmares. I'm taking to calling them cortisol dreams. I don't have them much.

The story dream was full of bad things, but it was interesting, too.
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
No on told me I screwed up. {Grin}

Still no pie, but it's only 9AM.
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
My brother is reading a Sam Harris book. I always want to have more basis for discussion with my fam, and the library had a ready copy, so I've been doing a read along. It's crap: rude, (unintentionally) racist, tripe for chapter 1, dumbed down blathering about consciosness for 2, but 3, about the illusion of self, is plot bunny food. (He's also more tolerable when he sticks to neuroscience.)

They've come a-hoppin'.

Following after fodder in chapter 2 regarding the two hemisphere's of the human brain, which got me thinking about disassociative disorders, the mental wanderings from the path of chapter 3 include a revelation about one of the clone universe related stories (a villainous perversion of the AGC's purpose) as well as more thoughts about the time-travel-in-your-own-body idea.

I can't do anything with these bunnies at the moment. Nevertheless, it's good to know I'm getting something out of the Harris book. Stay in the kitchen and make sandwiches for my bunnies, Sam!
butterflydreaming: A pink fountain pen, a tea cup, and a bottle of sake (Default)
First Thursday at Intregue Chocolate means free zombies. Their zombies are chocolate ends (think trim) melted down together into a drinking chocolate that gradually changes as the evening goes on. The rich drink is served in shots, of which I has two. Then the shop owner (Aaron) sent me home with a 12 ounce paper cup of the miraculous elixer. It is destined for a cake this Saturday.

The chocolate shop is right at the origin of the new trolley. It would be so convenient if I lived on Capitol Hill still. My waiting for the bus tolerance is down; there is a bus from the shop that gets me all the way to my home stop, but it only runs at half hour intervals. Still, something to remember next time there are doin's in Pioneer Square. Uwajimaya is also convenient if I catch the right bus.

I have been neglecting my blogging friends. Alas, internet is a thing of cafes and other borrowed wifi, again, for the nonce. If I had realized that I could get back in line for the library issued hotspot while I still had one checked out, then I would already have one on the way again. (The signal is crap at Shadow Box, though, as is the phone. One is Verizon, the other AT&T.) I miss internet on tap.

Happy Pi Day! It would be nice to have an event. It is nice not to have an event. It's not necessary to have pie. Do enjoy some, if so inclined.
butterflydreaming: A cup of tea in a clear cup, with a plate of tea cookies (Tea & Cookies)
In the late 80s, when I was intensely fangirling The Phantom of the Opera, my (still) BFF instigated a collaborative story, by which we brought a happily romantic ending to the Phantom's tragic story. Put it on my calendar for 2018 )

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