butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
band that is my new obsession covers song that has been my lifetime favorite

Twenty One Pilots. I was listening to a playlist and when "Can't Help Falling" came on, I swooned hard. My favorite song of all time, in every iteration -- Elvis, UB40, that band from Some Kind of Wonderful, U2 (?) -- on ukelele!
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
I received an invitation to sign this petition, below. I disagree with it on several levels. This isn't a human rights issue. How about instead of gathering electronic signatures to tell a business how to run its business, you (Angelino who started this) let Starbucks know why you will be taking your business elsewhere? Then get others to join the letter campaign.

"Dear Starbucks,
Until you address the waste stream caused by unnecessary plastic lids, I will be purchasing my daily latte from Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf." [local coffee shop][or Dunkin' Donuts, McDonald's, Peet's, wherever] Letter goes on to relate the no-choice incident from the petition. Petition to allow refusal of lid )

My philosophy is simple. I am willing to "vote with my wallet." I am willing to be inconvenienced to support my ideals. (The inconvenience rarely lasts, since these changes become habit.)

I believe that small changes make big change, especially where profits are concerned. If you don't like plastic in the landfill, don't use plastic. Recycling is a cop-out. Biodegradable spoons are a cop-out. They are only acceptable as transitional steps toward doing better as an individual. As with all betterment, progress must be constant. There is no plateau of done, where you can drive all you want and use Ziplocs and drink from paper cups and throw away food.

Lady, you don't change the world for the better with There Should Be a Law. The problem in this instance may in fact be the law, since Starbucks claims that it is a liability issue, but it's not an issue at Canadian locations.

Also, what a weak goal! What tiny impact it would make, to allow an optional lid! 98% of the time, the cashier won't pass the request to the barista anyway. Lid. Or the barista will autopilot. Lid. Or the customer doesn't give a damn about disposables. Lid! Cup! Paper sleeve and oceans of napkins! Sugar packets and stir sticks!

3:45 :D

Jun. 4th, 2013 08:56 am
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
Abba, "Take a Chance on Me"

I have loved Abba since I was a child. When I listen to their music, I feel like a little kid again.
I think it's pretty awesome how normal looking the band members are in this video. Glamour is a gauze screen frame and blue eye shadow.
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
 There are times when my head gets too crowded.

Since I have been here on DW, cross posting to LJ, I have returned to thinking of myself as butterflydreaming. I just realized that I've disconnected with SaV -- that is to say, I see my shadow_and_veil journal on LJ and it feels remote. That's not me.

Y'know, that's actually a good thing. Cut to spare you nattering )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

I *am* super-smart. Since I'm not averagely rich, I'd take it.

I don't think very well of those who would be okay with "average" smarts if it meant they could be super-rich. Way to be shallow. I would be willing to be vastly more intelligent even if it meant that my material goods would be less. I suspect that the correlation would be intentional. Most of the recent answers to this question were the choice for smarts, saying that smarts would lead to riches. The assumption that material wealth is the intelligent person's choice is pretty sad.

As wealth increases beyond the level of basic comforts, it acquires cost of its own. Notice how many rich folk are misers? Think of the cost of upkeep for fancy houses and cars, not to mention keeping up with the society of the wealthy. And it's not as if you could really remain in mainstream society if you had bursting bank accounts, unless you never did anything with it, in which case -- what is the point? It might even be a tough thing to keep the friends you had pre-riches. Even suppose that you could remain anonymous as a philanthropist, at the very least the I.R.S. would know, which would mean that your tax preparer would need to know, and if you have a tax preparer you may as well have a lawyer, and the law firm would advise you to invest your money, which means more lawyers and "people"... and so on. Next thing you know, you're involved in politics.

No, I think being super-smart would mean figuring out how to finally be free of the entanglements of material things. Having average wealth would be more than enough.
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
An hour or so I felt made of awesome. Now I'm kind of depressed about the whole incident.

That is so gay! )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
D says that I have the wrong approach to Powell's, since none of my visits have produced a book purchase on my part. Yes, Powell's City of Books, in Portland, OR. Yes, that place you adore and will hear no dispersions cast upon. He tells me that I'm not supposed to go looking for a particular book, but to go and wander and see what the City of Books offers up to me.

Personally, I don't think that asking for them to have a copy of Blackout on the shelf was asking too much. Then they didn't have any of Cherie Priest's older books, either.

The thing is, I do there what I do at every other book store. I look at the faceouts and the endcaps. I browse the new releases. I let my eyes wander over the shelves as I walk through the store on my way to and from the section where I hope to find my book/author. This has worked many times in Elliott Bay books, for example, and I've had a few discoveries from them. It's even worked at B&N. It certainly works at the library. So what is it about Powell's?

I think it's a matter of expectations. You don't have to convince me that Powell's is an amazing, enormous book store and more fully stocked than your typical independent bookstore. The books I have looked for and not found there have been genre fiction. They have lots of genre fiction, just not anything I want. Because they are so big, and going there is part of why I'd be in Portland anyway, I want them to have the books I don't find in other places, either.

I'm having waffle failure even as I write this. I guess the first one is the sacrificial waffle. I can't find the kitchen timer, which fell and had its magnet broken off and so isn't on the fridge where it would be useful. Plus, I don't have the batter recipe that I usually use. Halfway through mixing, I realized that this internet recipe didn't call for sour cream.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that even though I did a lot of cool stuff this weekend, I'm ultimately feeling that I didn't get what I set out for. It's a pretty pessimistic, disappointment focused assessment of things. For simplicity, I can blame hormones, but I don't think that addresses the real problem.

Eating the waffles may not be addressing the root problem, but it is making me feel cheerier by the bite.
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (veilofstars)
Financial matters depress me substantially more than anything else. Financial errors tend to feel like wrong choices or lack of diligence. They feel like things that should have assignable blame. Sometimes, it is true that they are. And sometimes, they are still in the realm of "things happen".

I am depressed, and tired, and am not eating dinner because I have no appetite for it. I don't like being depressed, tired, and unmotivated to eat. My life philosophy is based on controling one's outlook. It's a severe blow when I can't talk myself out of it. (I don't want to talk to anyone else. When I feel l like this, I don't trust anyone else's counsel.) So, even though it hurts and I'm still depressed, tired, and not eating dinner, I am having tea and thinking about my life philosophy. This all despite that overall, financial matters have taken a swing toward the better; I can see it being notably better in another month.

We say things like "Look on the bright side" and "make lemonaide out of lemons", and those are so simplistic that they annoy the &$*@ out of me. "Live and learn" is not much better. I think I can put it this way: Understand the particulars of the situation, Accept the facts, Go forward. A lot of things are not fixable. Circumstances frequently do not have satisfactory conclusions. When possible, Go Forward means "apply whatever means to right the problem" (excercise more, stop talking to that person, don't shop at that store). Other times, it means "just keep breathing and go on with your life."

You can't successfully go forward without the first two parts. Acceptance doesn't sit well if you don't understand how the bad thing happened and why it is affecting you as it is, and what may follow. I work wells with a Plan of Action, and this is a plan of action that can generally be applied.

The question, "And what are you doing about it?" can sometimes be answered with, "I'm venting/ranting/talking it out." If you understand that this is a necessary step for you before you move on to acceptance, then I think that is a reasonable answer. If you stall out in the whining and self-pity rut... then you are probably not someone on my f'list or someone I call a friend. *moment of f'list cherishing*

I remind myself that I've done a lot of things right, and that some things were required and couldn't be helped. I remind myself that I have done my best. I understand that sometimes things happen, and in order to straighten them out there is hassle. I can also see the worst-case outcome, which is not even all that bad. It's workable. I remind myself that I don't expect life to be easy, but that things work out for me so often that it stings more when they don't. They work out for me because I've done a lot of things right, too. Which brings the circle around, and eventually I go forward feeling a little less depressed and tired, and a little more capable of tending my physical self.

Or maybe it was the hot shower and the vanilla honeybush tea.
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Falls)
Last summer, when L & E & I went snorkeling at worn-down-by-tourists Hanauama Bay, I had some claustrophobia and quit after the first few minutes in the water. I hadn't had any problem in the past. I'm not notably claustrophobic, but I have always had a fear of suffocation. Suffocation-in-drowning, especially. Well, I got pushed into a pool before I could swim.
Submersion )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Falls)
pain is a message
healing will come afterward
from understanding

Tribe doesn't seem to want to post my musings. I just realized that on Tribe, one must always "submit". {grin} Perhaps I am being too assertive.

The fine line is the mirror's edge )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (veilofstars)
The first part of the day, despite coffee and breakfast and getting to work early, I was in a mood most foul. I have been reminded that I am a maenad, but the taste of blood in my mouth is my own. No one likes a crybaby: bad lessons, but they are the ones I learned )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (veilofstars)
There was a spider. I didn't want him to see it; he's having a rough day already. Oh. But he's going to read this LJ post now and know. Heh. Oops.

I dislike killing spiders. However, the house kind will die anyway outside in the chill. I apologize. "Have a good life as a pony," I tell them as death decends in the form of a paper towel or swirling water. I mean it in a nice way.

If I had to kill my food, I wonder if I'd feel the same way. more along the same line of thought )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
Once upon a time
When I was a butterfly
I dreamed of chaos

I gave up my wings
Or, really, my hope of them
I dreamed of changes

Both water and fire
I dream of pretty things now
Like friendship and love

Cocktails and good food
And kindness and honesty
Books for me to read

Singing if I wish
Creating beauty in beads
And writing haiku

With or without wings
No one takes the sky from me
Or my waiting smile
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
It started with an article flashing by on the MSN homepage, containing this jaw drop inducing bit: contraceptive induced insanity; kiss and blog; date 3 women but don't tell them about each other unless one asks: all articles courtesy of Match.com's mag )

As enlightening as opinion collecting is, it hurts my brain to try to come to any conclusions or to bring it together in a coherent whole. I'm quite certain that I think too much. I want to understand things that defy understanding. Love/sex relationships include too many variables. Once again I wonder, why do I care? And, what do I want?

Questions eternal. I'm so scared of my Whim that being "easy" is work. Now I feel like I need to explain both Whim and easy. How about short versions?

Whim ) easy )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Default)
From The Water Room (by Christopher Fowler, who writes magnificently):

"I'll be more careful next time."

"There won't be a next time, Arthur. What will it take to make you act in a responsible manner?"


On the bus I overheard a zen buddhist speaking to another about a hospice where her father had been cared for, in his last days, according to their beliefs. They were discussing the problem of care at hospitals. It wasn't until the end of the conversation that she said that they were buddhist, so I found myself wondering what religion or belief system they followed. Were they atheist? Pagan? Pastafarian? And how would each of any of those deal with impending death?

if you've ever wondered what I think about dying; a hint of my religious views; don't assume you know )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (Parsol Girls)
I feel like I'm looking for something. I feel like I am looking outside of myself for... a mirror. That what I am trying to find is not outside of myself. I know that I contain all that I need, like an overful trunk; I feel as though I need a light source so that I can see pick through the jumble. I am in my own dark castle where I have been trying to find my way without a candle.

I'm afraid there is an open staircase in here.
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (reading)
taken from [livejournal.com profile] telynmurali

poly quiz results )

A little commentary about this )
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (not okay)
perhaps I should spell it Crixtyna )
There are 42 y's in that vignette, excluding title. Beer was involved, so don't think that "Ryuu" meant anything more than to get me laughing.
butterflydreaming: "Cris", in blocks with a blinking cat (snQ2)
12,157 / 50,000

I'm definitely not done for the day. I think I may have moved into the "acceptance" part of NaNo.

a serious consideration of sanity )


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