jazzfish: book and quill and keyboard and mouse (Media Log)
The Great Big Dragaera Reread, part 5

VALLISTA HAS SHIPPED! *happydance* Guess I'll have to keep cracking on these. SUCH HARDSHIP.

It's interesting to move from "books I've reread so many times they're like old friends I've not seen in awhile" through "books I know pretty well and enjoy getting reacquainted with" and on into "books I like a lot but don't know as well as I could, or as I think I do."

Klava, Dzur, Jhegaala, Iorich )
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
Last week my boss Clare was in town (she's normally in London), and Wednesday turned out to be Team Outing Day. Dim sum at Kirin downtown (fancy, tasty, not the best dim sum I've had but quite good), followed by an escape room at which we did not embarrass ourselves even though we didn't make it out, followed by drinks.

That turned out to be Too Much Social for me, so instead of going to a stranger-ful munch like I'd planned I just went home. Unquestionably the right decision, even if I regret having had to miss meeting new people.



Meanwhile, on Friday I got a gum graft.

cut for potential squick )



On Sunday I caught what will probably be my only VIFF movie of the year, Bad Genius. It's a Thai film about cheating on exams, and it was fun and tense and enjoyable to watch. I'm not super fond of the redemptionist ending but I'm not sure what sort of ending I would have preferred, so there's that.

I miss complex movies. This one wasn't super complex but it kept me entertained and kept me thinking. Maybe I'll try to make it out to another VIFF movie tomorrow, or more likely Thursday.

... thanks?

Oct. 9th, 2017 09:47 pm
jazzfish: a black-haired man with a big sword. blood stains the snow behind (Eddard Stark)
I don't even know what to say.

I'm thankful for Erin, for my friends, for having a place to live and a job that pays me and isn't destroying my body or soul. I'm thankful that I have the space to sort out what I'm looking for and what I'm doing. I'm thankful that we (I) (we) can start the citizenship application process, that the timeline has been moved up by a year.

I'm thankful that I had the day off, and that I could choose to spend some of it helping a new person pack for moving. And I'm thankful that I'm together enough that I could see warning signs and be wary of further entanglement with that person.

I miss Emily, and my kittens (*sniffle*), and a space that's mine with all my stuff in. I miss Erin though that at least solves itself every few weeks.

I guess I'm thankful that I can feel that.

I'm thankful that I'm still here, ultimately.
jazzfish: Owly, reading (Owly)
What are you reading?

I was away from my Dragaera books last week when I finished Viscount, and Erin's books are mostly unpacked and there's a shelf of "tucker should read these," so I picked up Kim Stanley Robinson's The Years of Rice and Salt. I am *checks table of contents* a little over ten percent through it. It appears to be a sweep-of-alternate-history book, following different characters through the centuries after the Black Death wipes out all of Europe instead of just a third of it, with a loose framing story around reincarnation. I'm not sure what I think of it yet but I haven't given up on it.

What did you just finish reading?

The Viscount of Adrilankha, for which see the medialog post. (Summary: enjoyable, but enjoyable primarily in the context of the rest of the Dragaera books, and bordering on Too Much Paarfi.)

I also finally finished Full Fathom Five. I'm still enjoying the Craft sequence quite a lot, I just have a strong preference for dead-tree books at the moment (and probably in general). One thing I put together just recently: Gladstone's world is explicitly a fantasy analogue of our own. This lets him toss off asides like "Koschei fighting with the Golden Horde" and I immediately have a sense of a sorcerous Siberian at war with steppe nomads. It adds depth to the worldbuilding, and I'm not sure whether it's depth that the world has earned. It feels a little like cheating, is I guess what I'm saying. Neat, though.

What do you think you'll read next?

Back on the Great Dragaera Reread, with the "new" (less than a decade ... crud, not anymore, Dzur was eleven years ago, I guess it's really "post-Blacksburg") Vlad books.
jazzfish: Pig from "Pearls Before Swine" standing next to a Ball O'Splendid Isolation (Ball O'Splendid Isolation)
My contacts survived the week and a half in the dry dry north, perhaps thanks to a frequent application of eyedrops. Evenings without vision were bad enough; I'd prefer not to consider how bad it would have been to be practically blind for multiple days. Uncorrected, I can see well enough not to walk into things, mostly, and I can read on my phone more or less. (Reading on the iPad Mini doesn't work well because it's too big. I can't both see the entire width of the screen and have it be in focus.)

There's a sense of dislocation that comes on me when I'm flying. I don't feel like I'm going to or from anywhere, most times, there's no sense of motion. If it's daytime and I've a window seat and it's not overcast then the ground rushing past can keep me anchored, but this flight I got the tail end of a sunset through thick clouds. Still felt unanchored until sometime Monday morning. Maybe I still do, a bit. Yesterday was blue, like smoke.

The only Tom Petty album I ever owned was his Greatest Hits (I listened to Wildflowers and She's The One a few times but they didn't really stick), but I played the hell out of that CD. Fantastic road-trip music. And "Don't Come Around Here No More" has long been one of my favourite music videos. I think back in college Jonathan had a Tom Petty video collection, on VHS, with that and "Into the Great Wide Open" and "Mary Jane's Last Dance" and the weirdly post-apocalyptic-sci-fi "You Got Lucky". Rewatching that one now, the wardrobes have a deeply contemporary aesthetic. Or maybe it's just that I've seen Into the Badlands and Mad Max and the trailer for The Dark Tower recentlyish. So it goes.

Disjointed, dislocated, disconnected. Drifty. It's a glorious green-gold autumn in the north; down here the trees are starting to fade to dirty brown. I miss Appalachian fall. I'd contemplated going to visit Blacksburg this October. Maybe next year.
We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our passage except a dim memory of the smell of smoke and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
jazzfish: book and quill and keyboard and mouse (Media Log)
The Great Big Dragaera Reread, part 4

I draw a mental line straight through Issola. You'd think that divide would be more reasonably put between Orca and Dragon, when the Vlad books got picked up by Tor, but no. In my head Dragon is the last of the Ace books and Dzur is the first of the Tor books, or something. I blame [SPOILER].

Also, I appreciate that Viscount is at least up-front about being composed of bound book-fragments. This does make writing about each individual volume both a) difficult and b) useless. However.

Issola, Paths, Lord, Sethra )
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
The weekend was alright-to-good. I'd moved my dentist appointment to Monday from the middle of next week, and that went fine except for some gumwork that I'll need to have done in a couple of weeks. Then come Tuesday night the stress stacked up again. Emily's successfully located a subleaser, at least for a couple of months: yay! I won't have to pay half the mortgage in addition to Vancouver rent, and I might even not be dipping into savings. At least for that couple of months.

Trouble was, the subleaser wanted in on 1 October, and I was scheduled to leave Thursday evening and not get back 'til next Sunday. The first. Panic ... did not exactly set in, though stress certainly did.

Over the course of Wednesday I:
  • Got a couple of friends to hang out with me Wednesday night and help finish packing, which otherwise would have been a) slow, b) frustrating, and c) generally sad-inducing.
  • Acquired a small storage unit on short notice.
  • Decided to just call in exhausted on Thursday due to not sleeping well (this is not a lie), and just go in for my early-morning meetings.
So that happened and the packing went fine, and the move itself went fine. I left the bookcases and coffee-table there for the subleaser's use; the bookcases might fit into the storage unit if necessary. I'd intended to find myself a new better bed and move the old one to the condo so the subleaser could use it but given my state the last week or so, finding a decent bed was Not Happening. I'll throw money at Emily to find a bed. And then I guess I'll have two low-end beds.



After all that I made it back to my basement apartment about an hour before I'd expected, with plenty of time to pack for ten days up north. Indeed, I managed to leave about an hour early to get to the airport, so I'd have plenty of time to grab a leisurely dinner before my flight.

Except that when I got to the airport I realised I'd forgotten my viola, which would make it difficult to a) practise and b) have a Skype lesson on Tuesday. So, half an hour transit back out to the apartment and half an hour back to the airport, and there went all the extra time I'd built in for dinner. I did manage to grab something to eat anyhow but it was a close thing.

I then discovered, once I got here, that I'd left my glasses at home as well. This is deeply frustrating, as it rather limits my late-evening options. It's also gonna make things interesting if my contacts self-destruct again.

(I briefly thought I had lost my Nexus card, but it turned up again. Still not sure what happened there. I'd blame my lack of glasses except that I generally find things by touch and not by sight, so.)



But the weekend was pretty good: reconnected with Erin, went out to a couple of events to start trying to make connections in the local kink community, generally got a little more sociable and a little less stuck in my own head.

And today's the equinox, so maybe the horrificness has just been the fault of summer and it'll start to settle out now. I can hope, anyway.
jazzfish: book and quill and keyboard and mouse (Media Log)
The Great Big Dragaera Reread, part 3

The Ace books have decidedly Aged Well, which is always a pleasant surprise. The treatement of Easterners feels remarkably relevant and contemporary (at least, so saith this white dude), and the sense of having wandered into someone's high-powered D&D game doesn't persist past Jhereg, or maybe Yendi. I'd definitely recommend them.

Athyra, Orca, FHYA, Dragon )

back again

Sep. 11th, 2017 02:37 pm
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
I've fallen out of practice at journaling, which is never a good sign. Time to pull myself back into it. Part of the problem's that I've been running around mentally in crisis-management mode for about a month, for reasons that I am actively choosing to not get into instead of just sort of ignoring.

Today feels kind of bleh... but I did sleep pretty well last night, well enough for the light-alarm to wake me instead of waking up at random at four-thirty and not getting back to sleep. Though I did want to sleep longer. Which is unusual for me, I'm generally pretty good about getting up and moving after about five or ten minutes. More sleep tonight, I think.

Feeling a strong urge to hole up in my room or the bathtub and (re)read and do other distractionary things. July was lost to a haze of emotional overwhelm and also packing/moving, and August has been rough for mostly unrelated reasons. The Great Big Dragaera Reread has been a balm.

I went camping about a month ago for the first time since we moved, and I miss it. Thinking tentatively about going out backpacking over Canucksgiving. No idea where, or who with, though the answer to that one is likely "nobody, because I hate coordinating with people."

Still doing yoga though more erratically, still biking pretty consistently. The lovely bike basket I bought online doesn't fit over the handlebars of this bike, so I'm still looking for a better solution there. At least I've finally got a couple of bungee cords so I can pack things on the rear rack. I also need a better pannier: this one sticks up over the top of the rack, making it difficult to bungee things on properly.

Things like an Instant Pot, which I've purchased on the grounds that a) I wanted a rice cooker anyway, b) everyone I know who has one has sung its praises to the heavens, and c) being able to make more food and easier is almost certainly a Good Thing for me. I haven't yet figured out what I'm going to do with it other than "cook more meat faster," or even what sorts of meat-type things. Need to spend some time poking at crockpot-type recipes, perhaps.
jazzfish: Owly, reading (Owly)
The worst part of transitory housing is not having access to my books.

For instance: Maggie Ronald posts that her presumably adorable daughter is singing "It All Goes Around", which of course gets it stuck in my head. And now I badly want to reread the Radch books, particularly since Ann Leckie has another coming out late this month.

Bah.
jazzfish: book and quill and keyboard and mouse (Media Log)
The Great Big Dragaera Reread, part 2

Aha, the Ace collected editions do have the Cycle poem, just at the beginning before even the title page.

I miss the original covers. Next time I'm reading my mass-market paperbacks.

(I am aware that I am not really posting, and am in fact engaging in some serious escapism. I'm overcommitted and somewhat burnt out right now, but I don't think I'm depressed.)

Palace, Taltos, Phoenix, Phoenix Guards )
jazzfish: book and quill and keyboard and mouse (Media Log)
The Great Big Dragarea Reread, part 1

I'm rereading all of Steven Brust's Dragaera books, more or less in publication order: fourteen mainline novels, five Paarfi romances, one side story, and three short stories.

Sparked by the impending release of Vallista and the realisation that I've not read the Ace volumes in, oh, probably not since Issola came out, despite having read them to exhaustion in the decade previous.

My mass-markets are packed up so I'm reading the Ace books in the SFBC collected editions. As far as I know the main changes are some terminology around pre-Empire sorcery ("raw chaos" to "raw amorphia" etc), and the removal of the Cycle poem at the front of Jhereg. I liked the poem, and it made the chapter headings make sense, but I seem to be in the minority.



The Book of Jhereg )
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
Currently reading Freedom and Necessity, and enjoying it, as expected. One thing I hadn't expected: the print feels tiny. Unsure if this is just a natural result of Getting Old or if it's actually small. There doesn't appear to have been an ebook release, which makes me a little sad.

Gonna be a busy fall, bookwise. Just preordered new books from Kat Howard, Ann Leckie, eBear, and Steve Brust. Need to get on with that Great Big Dragarea Reread prior to late October. At least the eBear won't demand my immediate attention: reading Book One Of A Trilogy is a mistake I try to avoid making when the author is known to write bound book-fragments.

I biked for an hour and a half yesterday, going to a small get-together that may be the kind of thing I'm looking for. Mostly, a good ride, if overly sweaty, and tough going uphill. There's an exhilaration in a steep downhill, though, and a long gentle decline makes for a pleasant coast.

It occurred to me last week that my hip problem likely isn't just from wallet-induced sciatica. It's also possibly a result of babying my right ankle (and hence leg) for several months after I twisted it pretty sharply (CW: depiction of trauma, neither graphic nor permanent). So there's that.

Erin pointed out awhile ago that I do a lot of railing against the Confederacy (sometimes on FB, sometimes in person). I grew up hating everything about the South: the weather, the people, the history, the culture. I've mellowed on that a lot in the last decade or so, but Treason In Defence Of Slavery still gets me wound up. I think it's that it's a reminder of everything I hated about the South. Or maybe just that it's a part of my upbringing that's still acceptable to hate.

And in actual significant news, I've lost a friend over the breakup. One that I know of, I mean. I'd hoped for some compassion and understanding but it was not to be. I'm sad, and a little surprised, but only a little: she's prickly, far more invested in Emily's emotional state, and I suspect skeptical of the whole poly thing anyhow. (A conclusion I draw from sentences like "Since November I've watched you break up with Emily in slow motion.") Losing friends I care about doesn't get any easier. Especially not when they've been good friends and sources of support in the past. Oh well. She's not quite burned the bridge, I guess. She's poured gasoline on the bridge, offered me a book of matches, and walked away. Best I can do is not actually light the fire and be here if and when she changes her mind.

Overall? Still flailing around, still trying to sort out what I want my life to look like and how to make it look like that.
jazzfish: a whole bunch of the aliens from Toy Story (Aliens)
The guy at MEC (Canadian for "REI") suggested a specific brand of bike basket (Wald), one that bolted onto the front fork in addition to hanging from the handlebars, so it had more support and didn't interfere with the cables.

I ordered one from Amazon last week and it arrived today.

I rode home awkwardly clutching the box with one hand because I had nowhere on the bike to carry it, which seems ironic.

Looks like it'll require specialised tools to attach, though, since my front wheel is 'quick release.' Also since I have basically no tools at this point in time. Guess I'm taking it into MEC on Friday. Maybe they can fix the shifter indicator that they broke a couple of weeks ago when it was in for a tuneup.

I /like/ having a bike. Very curious to see if I continue to like it when it gets cold and/or wet.
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
Tattoo photo (warning: fb), taken on Friday shortly after the autostick-saran-wrap came off. The background isn't finished and the whole wants another going-over, but it's there.

I'm reasonably happy with it. I'd been thinking of the background as much more line-art sketched-in, but I like the detail work. And I'm exceptionally pleased with how the hawk came out.

It doesn't yet feel like a part of me. Probably gonna take awhile for that to settle in.
jazzfish: artist painting a bird, looking at an egg for reference (Clairvoyance)
Erin's staying with me for the week, which is lovely. She got in on Friday afternoon, and we've spent the extended-weekend snuggling and cooking and talking and running errands. It's been well over a decade since I've had a partner come to stay with me for longer than an afternoon, excepting Emily for the couple of years we were in DC and not living together. (And this past Xmas, I guess, though that was its own kettle of awkwardfish.) It's worked out rather well.

We went and got most of the Cargo furniture on Saturday, and it fits into the space pretty well though not quite as easily as I'd hoped. Gonna take a bit more rearranging to get it the way I want. Also, I'd like to get some art hung up sooner than later, in the hope that that'll help it feel more ... more real, more mine, something. I'm really good at getting my space about 80% of the way there, and then just not bothering with that last 20%.

Trips to the old condo are now most definitely Difficult, emotionally. Emily's solidly settled in and she's made the space her own. It's good to see her doing well. It's also rough to surround myself with... with how effectively I've been removed from something that used to be shared. There are still a couple more things that I need to do there: sorting artwork, for one. Maybe if I know / admit in advance that it's gonna be rough it'll be easier. Maybe.



I said "extended weekend" and I meant it. I took yesterday off work to get my second tattoo.

I've gone into extended detail about my first. This one took much less dithering and deliberating. A couple of weeks ago I went in and spoke with Rachel Lige, an artist that Erin recommended, and tried to describe the idea I'd had in my head. She made approving noises and asked a few questions and used words like "negative space" that I hadn't had the vocabulary to put into my description and quickly sketched something that looked like it might conceivably approximate what I was thinking of. I put down a deposit and made a tentative appointment for, well, yesterday, and emailed her some reference material that afternoon (a few silhouettes, plus the Le Guin and the Richard Siken poems), and tried to think no more about it.

Until last week when she sent me a preliminary design, and it was just about perfect. As an added bonus, seeing it, rather than trying to visualise, gave me the ability to describe it. "On my left pec, a silhouette of a hawk in flight, dark purple and filled with stars, over a dark grey sketched-in landscape." I wrote back to her with a couple of minor suggestions and confirmed Tuesday.

The whole experience was markedly more pleasant than the previous one. Some of that's having Erin there for much of the time (she ducked out for an hour or so to run a few errands), some of it's feeling more comfortable with Rachel than with Gilda, some of it's just having been here before and knowing a bit better what to expect. It took, mm, somewhere between three and four hours. Much of it was painful but not so bad: bits directly over ribs or sternum pinched unpleasantly, and the area down towards my armpit was just plain more sensitive. Then the last half-hour to forty-five minutes, in a combination of 'going over parts that have already been poked raw two or three times' and 'body is just Done', were sheer unpleasant agony. So we got most of it done, and I'll be back in a month or so for touchup and to finish some of the outside bits.

It looks lovely, though right now it's more red than I'd like. One expects that that will improve as it heals. The landscape's more detailed than I'd expected, and maybe darker, but I'm happy with it. I'm particularly pleased with how the stars in the hawk came out.

I was distinctly lightheaded when I sat up: not just a standard low-blood-pressure thing, but a very specific floatiness and absence of conscious thought. It's neat. I'm glad Erin was there: she fed me half a litre of chocolate milk and guided me to the Ethiopian place on the Drive where we ate raw cow and spicy lentils, and then took me home and generally kept track of me. So that was lovely, too.

I've already got vague ideas for next/additional pieces. The first tattoo I ever considered, back when I was still in engineering, was an electrical ground symbol on my Achilles tendon, and I still (or maybe again?) think that's relevant. I've recently kicked around the idea of a tiny orange, though that might be a passing fancy. And I've a mental image of a larger, brighter, piece on my right shoulder and upper arm. No sense of what it is, just that it... ought to be there, somehow.

In the meantime, I can focus on healing up from this one.
jazzfish: Owly, reading (Owly)
I'm reading again. I like that, a lot.

What are you reading right now?

Raven Stratagem by Yoon Ha Lee, sequel to last year's Ninefox Gambit. Complex space opera, based around the idea that consensus belief ("the calendar") can shape quantum physics to allow for sufficiently advanced technology. Twisty and moves fast. It's labeled as "Book Two of 'Machineries of Empire'" but Ninefox functioned as a standalone, so I'm hoping Raven will as well. (The 'bound book-fragment' mode of SF/F publishing cannot die fast enough.)

Also, in ebook when I've not got a hardcopy with me, Full Fathom Five, the third of Max Gladstone's Craft novels. I think it was about midway through the second that I recognised that these are basically detective novels or films noir set in an industrial/urbanized fantasy world. I'm enjoying them.

What did you just finish reading?

First reread of the aforementioned Ninefox Gambit, in the hope that it will stick in my head a little better this time. I remembered most of the high points, but not really how the ending shook out.

And last night I reread Le Guin's Very Far Away From Anywhere Else, because it's always a gut-punch. It's about being lonely, and feeling stuck, and the sheer crushing despair that comes when you get what you've needed and then lose it again through what's clearly your own fault. Now that I'm mostly out the other side I can empathise a lot with Owen's depiction of "the fog". Also, I'd forgotten that Natalie plays the viola.

The book's not perfect: it's stuck in its characters' and culture's notions of sex, and the ending (the very ending) doesn't quite work for me. But it does so much so well for me that I can forgive it all of that. I would dearly love to acquire a first edition: my flimsy early-2000s paperback is perfectly functional but the people on the cover bear absolutely no resemblance to Owen and Natalie.

(Oh, Tucker. 2013: "I seem to have a very strong internal prohibition against talking about Very Far, about the things in it that spoke to me." Well. I understand that better now, at least.)

Before that, Martha Wells's final Raksura duology, The Edge of Worlds / Harbors of the Sun. Good but not great? I wanted more Raksura, mostly, and less of the groundlings. To the left, the half-Fell swarm were easily worth the price of admission all by themselves; I sniffled a bit every time Consolation was onscreen, I think. The foundation builders' artifact came across as sufficiently creepy, as well. The pacing felt a little off at the ending, in the same way that The March North did the first time I read it: "we have finished dealing with the Major Threat but there's still a quarter of the book left in which we talk about the aftermath."

What do you think you'll read next?

Freedom and Necessity, I think. Then, who knows? I may start in on the Great Big Dragaera Reread, I've not reread most of those since Issola came out.
jazzfish: Pig from "Pearls Before Swine" standing next to a Ball O'Splendid Isolation (Ball O'Splendid Isolation)
So.

Last week I went up north with Erin, and promptly fell into a depressive slump. Reasons/triggers include: being Not In My Space, and being aware that My Space didn't exist and hadn't for at least a month, or maybe years; being fairly well isolated physically from most other people; not having had a safe space to begin processing the breakup, without feeling like I needed to Hold Together for someone else; and needing to be halfway functional for some unpleasant stress that Erin was dealing with.

Also I tore another contact on Monday morning. This is becoming a problem. I don't know if it's the dryness up north, or the hard water getting into the contact case, or my bad habit of napping without taking them out, or just a bad batch. Whatever it is it needs to stop.

I didn't fully recognise the depressive episode until last Friday afternoon, when I realised that I'd been meaning to email some folks, or journal about what was going on, all week, and hadn't done that. And I had also only barely kept up with the work I was meant to be doing. That part shocked me into realising that there was something seriously wrong. Shades of the year before I got laid off. Which, I mean. One of my driving principles right now is "I do not ever want to go back to where I was in 2014."

Anyway, that got sorted, though it was more symptom-treating than disease-curing. And instead of going to a weekend-long music festival three hours away I spent the weekend sobbing at random intervals, because I was finally feeling my way through the breakup. That was ... I wouldn't call it good, but it's a good thing to have done. Everything hurts all the time, but a little less now.



Then I came back on Monday morning and moved into my new place.

The move went swimmingly and I continue to recommend Tranquility Movers for all your metro-Vancouver moving needs. I put the stupid Ikea bed's headboard back on the stupid Ikea bed by myself, with assistance from a multitool that I'd borrowed from Erin's storage locker the time I had to let the movers in to take a look at it and see how much stuff there was. (Putting together the stupid Ikea bed requires a Phillips screwdriver, a star-head screwdriver, and a flathead screwdriver.) I'd expected this to be much more of a production: the couple of times I've assisted Emily in rebuilding it, it's taken both of us and a lot of swearing. Yay?

I've put books (roughly 10% of the total library) and DVDs on shelves, and tonight James and Julianne are coming over for a bit to be sociable at me while I shelve the games, and then I can start scooting furniture again. The room is huge, something like 15'x15'. I've got a queen bed and four bookcases in there, and I could have my computer desk set up and it would still feel huge and emptyish. I may see about retrieving my Cargo furniture after all, it will certainly fit.

I don't think it's a long-term place. It's got a tiny galley kitchen with no dishwasher and less counter space than the tiny kitchen in the condo. This is unlikely to do well with two people who aren't both conscientious about doing their dishes immediately and putting them away as soon as they're dry. It's in a good location, but not ideal: far from James and Holly, and not real convenient to anyone else I know. And either I'll get over my living-with-someone-else weirdness, or it will prove too much and I'll spend most of the next several months hiding in my room.

But it's an excellent short-term place. And maybe it's good enough for the medium term, while we try to figure out what we're doing with the condo. And maybe, maybe, it will get me out to some other social-type things of the variety I'm looking for.

"Maybe" is at least better than staring into a blank unknowable wall, which is what the last month has felt like.

impostors

Jul. 19th, 2017 09:37 am
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
"Impostors" are what the cookbook I pulled the recipe out of called them. I guess it's because they look like chocolate bars until you cut into the pan and discover the peanut buttery deliciousness underneath. I started making them in high school, when I needed a dessert to take to forensics potlucks and such. I've not made them in ages, though.

Last week I was going through the recipe box taking photos of the ones I wanted to save, and the impostors recipe was one of those. I transcribed it from the photo on the plane out here. And then in the grocery store I saw the boxes of Baker's chocolate and remembered that Erin, who doesn't normally like sweet things, likes Reeses's cups, and said "Hey, I could make impostors!"

The nice thing about this recipe is that it is basically impossible to screw up sugar, butter, and peanut butter. It's possible to ruin the chocolate, either by scorching it or apparently by allowing even a single drop of water to come in contact with it, but taking it slowly reduces the likelihood of that as well.

recipe )

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Adventures in Mamboland

"Jazz Fish, a saxophone playing wanderer, finds himself in Mamboland at a critical phase in his life." --Howie Green, on his book Jazz Fish Zen

Yeah. That sounds about right.

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