fflo: (West Covina)
I'm tempted to sneak peeks.  But I'm not gonna.  I may have to avoid twitter, even.  I already know one song's about women having orgasms, and I've seen an image from the new title sequence.

I suppose it doesn't matter a whole lot whether the episode is "pure"ly new to me when I see it.  I dunno.  It's got something to do with preparing to savor it.  Like how I used to wait until I got home with the little packets of printed photographs picked up from the drug store or the Giant Food, so I could sit down and really enjoy them, vs. how my gf would immediately start flipping through them as soon as she'd retrieved the envelope from the file at the store.  Not entirely unlike how she'd drink a whole diet Coke while shopping and then pay for the empty bottle.  Except that's like the first thing more in the commerce way than the eagerness way.  (Somehow the transitive property doesn't quite hold.)

Speaking of math, where would you put math on this xkcd chart of Research Risks?


       


I'm thinking in the extreme upper left-hand corner.

I like how molasses storage does have some chance of breaking free & threatening the townsfolk.
 
fflo: (incipience)

So wasn't it not long ago we were coming forward with recollections of the first time we were sexually assaulted? When was that? Was that when the Trump pussy-grabbing comment came out?

fflo: (incipience)
This afternoon I'm going to cut out of work early for a screening of 44 Pages, a documentary about Highlights magazine that I didn't get to when it was playin Cinetopia earlier this year.  I think the traffic was daunting the evening I was going to drive to the D to take it in.  To decide, just now, whether to see it today, I clicked to watch the trailer, and it took all of 7 seconds of it for me to decide "yes" (and stop the video).  Just 2 shots of big colorful sheets running through a big printing press.

It's not playing hooky cuz I asked the boss last week if I could use leave today for that very purpose.  Yet it'll feel a little sneaky anyhow.

Then we have chorus tonight.  Last week the new director spent the entire rehearsal hearing us, one by one, to determine whether we're in the right sections.  I didn't hear of any cases of him moving anyone.  I did hear him telling some people that they had the option of singing another part.  With me he switched up the words he initially had me singing with the little jingley arpeggio, possibly because I was scooping between notes.  So I conjecture (at most).  Nonetheless I'm now a little caught on how much I may scoop to arrive at (or find) a pitch.  I ain't no Mel Tormé, that's for sure.

I've gotten a good number of galleys done already today, despite coming in late, and taking a brief break to get a flu shot down the hall.  It hurt a bit, but only briefly, and not as much as a freakish breast/nipple injury I sustained yesterday.  (Sensitive!)  That's lookin' pretty good today, however, so I may be spared having to seek medical attention for it.

In my dreams I killed someone by remote control and was quite down about how I was about to go to prison for the rest of my life, and felt guilty even that I was letting Tracy-B-played-by-Tracee-E-R comfort me while I waited for the boom to fall.  Meanwhile, in someone else's dreams, I was napping in the hotel bed, and that was stressing her out, what with all the things we still had to attend to (on our vacation in Vegas) (before we had to head to the airport) (like blackjack and shopping and me getting my hair done).

The night of the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend season premiere, I had a sex dream that was possibly related to that show, but maybe more to a concept from one song in an earlier season than to anything in the new episode, per se.  The (dream) sex was happy & good & fun, and then what followed was difficult and messy and maybe confusing and anyhow not rosy-fine.  Still, I wouldn't call it a shit show.

I do like having dreams and remembering them.  My but I was relieved this morning that I hadn't really killed anyone and I'm not going to prison (for that).  Took me a bit to put it together.  And to realize that, even in the dream, I hadn't actually killed anyone.
fflo: (incipience)
1) What is the first song you remember from your childhood?

Not sure if it's the first, but I like "There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly".  I remember being tickled by (what I'd now call) the structure of it.  I still like seeing kids being tickled by that sort of thing, with the lighting up at the understanding of what's going on.

Unfortunately some adult heard me singing this song at some point and told me (or my parents?) that I couldn't sing.  As in that I was singing off-key.  So I stopped singing.  Like, for years.  Until college.  Now I think about that person and think what a shit she was, and how kids should be let to sing however they're singing, and of course they're mostly not "good" at it, the little beginners.

There's even a thing sort of about that in my favorite TV show (which is back tonight for a new season) (!).  In one episode Rebecca Bunch's kid self is trying to get a boy to play along with her romantic princess fantasy, and she tells him how it's like in the movie Slumbered, and she starts singing the big song from that (fictitious) film, "One Indescribable Instant", but she's singing it all way off-key.  There's even a bit later when the grown-up Rebecca recalls the song again and sings a bit of it crazy off-key herself, like her pre-pubescent other-actress self did in that scene.  It's sort of a cringingly fond recognition of what kids are like, and what learning is like, and how the "ignorant" enthusiasm of youth can be celebrated and smiled at, vs. shut down like some assholic woman c.1967 might think should happen.

Here's "One Indescribable Instant" as rendered at Jayma's wedding by Tia Myrna, who is so proud of how she got 3½ stars on "Star Search" in 1984 singing it.  :D  Animated Disney pastiche.  The ending is particularly excellent-funny, to me.  Yet there is that sincerity running through it, like through the whole show, however silly, however much a parody.  I love how the show makes fun of things and yet has such a palpable fondness for them (us) (people) at the very same time.  It's just the right touch, like a gentle friend.


I'm so ready for a weekend.  It really should've started last night.  That woulda been about right.
fflo: (incipience)
These subjects aren't related except insofar as I'm thinking right now about writing something about each of them here.

About the fires, I was just looking at the Google map of the current California fires, which I looked a day or two ago, and I can tell how much more some of them have burned, just from remembering their shapes when I zoomed in on them last.  That Santa Rosa one hadn't crossed that highway yet, for instance, and that Loma one didn't have that big hook at the top coming back west.  I don't remember the Redwood Valley one being anywhere near that extensive.  I zoom in and see the roads and try to imagine the effect of flames sweeping through and burning up everything.

And soon it will be time to leave the office for the day, after which I could go home & walk the dog quick & head back downtown to meet with the chorus committee I usually go to the meetings of.  But I'm maybe not gonna do that tonight.  Cuz I think I don't want to.  I think I feel like doing other stuff instead.

I mentioned this notion to a coworker, and she said something about how sometimes when you've been really extra-responsible and engaged with something, going back to normal feels like (basically) shirking.  Which is a good point.  Plus if I don't go to the meeting when I could, it's less than my normal level of engagement.

I think it gets all tangled up for me with the desire to connect and be involved and be a good citizen yeah but also take advantage of being in the organization and having it in my life to enjoy communal rolling up of sleeves and getting things done, and the company of the others I do that with.  It's like part of me thinks I can't or shouldn't even skip one meeting, without more of a conflict of obligations, vs., say, really not feeling like it.  I mean, whatever happened to the kid part of me that looked forward to the element of adulthood that meant there were more things I could choose to do or not to do just because I felt like it?  I wasn't wrong that there would be more such things, and more such freedom, despite all the obligations and necessities of adulthood and taking care of oneself.  But I guess I didn't foresee my own habits of mind and sort of psychological superstitions coming into play.

Doesn't help that it's chilly and overcast.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to come inside after a little dog jaunt and plop meself down in a chair, and just be in it.  Yeahhhh.

Oh but dinner.  I guess I have to do something about dinner.

You hungry?  I think I'm hungry, now that I check in with my middle regions.
fflo: (Default)
fflo

Hello.

CURRENTLY FEATURING
the
Postcard of the Day

(a feature involving a postcard on a day)

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For another postcard thing, see
my old postcard poems tumblr or
its handy archive.

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I'm just starting to post here & at livejournal. Add me and let me know who you are, and we can read each other's protected posts.

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"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

-- Möbius, The Physicists

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