oracleofdoom | Reading

and I had to take a car, which I can not afford. At least the corner store hadn’t shut down and the cashier let me wait inside. Either he’s very friendly and chatty or he’s flirting with me, but the important thing is I still have all my toes.

conuly

Poll #33957 Chag sameach!

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 27

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But really, how do you spell it in English?

View Answers

Hanukkah
18 (66.7%)

Chanukah
6 (22.2%)

Hanukah
1 (3.7%)

Something else
2 (7.4%)

Also, please take a poem

Edit: Also, also, two videos

conuly

"He took the Walkman out of his pocket and flipped through the songs in the cassette."

Oh, sweetie. That's... that's just not how cassette tapes work. Not even overseas. You fast forward or rewind - literally winding the tape again - and hope that your timing is amazing. I mean, with practice I guess you can get pretty good, but still.

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valkryor

I've had my appointment, and now I have one in the new year for an ultrasound and x-ray for my right hand. My doc could feel some inflammation at the base of the thumb, and imagining is necessary to determine the cause. Until then, I need to wear a thumb spica (a type of brace) when I sleep. The only downside is having to take it off in the middle of the night because I need to pee so I can wash my hands after. I was also told to do less, but as I already baby my hands, less at this point equates to damn near nothing.

So keep on keepin' on, I guess. :P

But the handy fun doesn't stop there. Oh, no, there is no stopping the fun train. No, sir.

For a bit of personal history, I have struggled with eczema on my hands for almost four decades. It's come and gone, swapping the fingers on my right hand when I was thirteen for the side of the same hand just below the pinky finger. When I was a child, it was bad. BAD bad: fluid bubbles, cracked and flaking skin, bleeding fissures, itchiness to the point of pain. It took a change in my diet to get it to quiet down and disappear. One of the triggers was chocolate.

Do you have any idea how upsetting it was to go through an Easter WITHOUT chocolate? I do.

Lately, it's been triggered by stress and exacerbated by winter. I keep my hands moisturized as best I can and have medicated cream when things get bad. In short, it's manageable. Even when a spot appeared on my left knee a few years back, I kept calm and carried on.

Now, there is a new spot, one that I am NOT okay with: my ring finger.

For a while, I had been wearing my engagement ring in lieu of a wedding ring because I don't wear it enough and it fit, though a little small. I started getting itchy under the ring and noticed tiny familiar fluid bubbles. After trying to battle it and it not getting better, I switched back to a faceted silver band that is the correct size. And for a while, everything was fine.

Until it wasn't.

This morning, I noticed that my ring finger was hella itchy, so I pulled up my ring and started scratching long enough to put the pieces together. I stopped and looked at the skin and yep, pinpoint holes indicating scratched open fluid bubbles. MOTHERFUCKER. *sigh*

So I put the ring in my jewellery box and will treat this for a bit until it clears up again. If it keeps happening, I might have to give up on wearing a wedding ring, at least on my left hand, as I have no interest in turning this small flare into a permanent finger of eczema. Been there, done that. NEVER AGAIN.

Current Mood: annoyed

conuly

I don't quite relish the idea of going out in it, and god knows where our shovel went, but gosh, I love looking at the snow!

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conuly

Watch on YouTube

conuly

The goal is to herd all the "What do you call this?" posts into the comments there. It never ever works. However, they do occasionally get comments like "Here are the answers to the questions you asked rhetorically as an example" and "Why do you keep posting this and asking the same questions" and "There is no such thing as a pork burger".

Yes, Virginia, there is a pork burger. This is why I have a picture of pork burger patties on my phone, so I can post it every time somebody says that those don't exist, or that they "really" mean a breakfast sandwich or a pulled pork sandwich or a ham sandwich or a BLT.

I always want to ask these people who, I guess, don't get out much why they're so sure that anything they haven't personally heard of before must not exist. It's a big old world, but apparently, not so much for them.

(I suppose I can be forgiven for being a bit snippy this time around, I mean, given everything.)

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conuly

And one email and voicemail later, my pay didn't come in and nobody has responded yet. (I did wake up pretty late, but seriously.)

I'll call again in the morning, I don't care if it is a weekend, but....

*headdesk*

I don't know what I'll do for groceries if this isn't resolved by Monday, but I'll wait until Monday to worry about it.

conuly

You'd think we'd get snow, but no. Tomorrow's forecast thus far calls for a "wintery mix". The only wintery mix I want is cocoa and marshmallows, not whatever the hell happens to fall from the sky like soggy doom confetti.

19F, jesus. At least it'll be warmer tomorrow. Warm enough to get a fucking wintery mix instead of snow, which is what we really want.

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conuly

So much awful stuff happens to the protagonists in the last third of the show that I often don't make it all the way through. It's worth it, though - my favorite character suddenly gets enough growth to become my favorite character, and the villain dies in a very satisfying way, allowing me to say ( Read more... )

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conuly

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.

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Link

conuly

I can see you're not a cook. You can't exactly dice thyme. The leaves are pretty tiny. If they're fresh, you just strip them from the stem. I suppose you can then chop them more finely, but dicing? You'd have more luck trying to dice time.

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conuly

The Trump administration’s NSS announces a dramatic reworking of the foreign policy the U.S. has embraced since World War II.

And that's not the most alarming thing about it.

conuly

Which, good for her, but she's not going to make the big bucks in social work, which is what she's getting her BS in. Well, best of luck to her anyway. (She does have her eyes wide open, because everybody has told her that. Unsurprising.)

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conuly

so now I'm spending some part of my evening with another coworker instead of by myself, which means I can't just summarily turn off the TV. Other people are weird when they want the TV on even if they aren't watching it, but since they think I'm weird for preferring blissful silence I guess sometimes I have to compromise.

Which means that the other day my entertainment choices were either a long and frankly tedious piece on the JFK conspiracy theories, or HP1. Welp, JFK won't get any deader, and practically speaking, JKR won't get any richer. The choice wasn't really very agonizing, is what I'm saying. I feel like maybe it ought to have been, but no. (That place does not have enough channels. If I'm going to be stuck watching TV for even part of the night I really need to figure out how to get my phone on the screen.)

All this led me to realize something that I somehow don't think I ever thought about before, which is that the plot of book 2 doesn't make any fucking sense, like, right from the start. How exactly did Lucius set it up so that he'd happen to bump into the Weasley family? What if they hadn't gone shopping that day? There clearly was a lot of planning that went into this, so what was his backup? Really, none of those plots hold together if you look at them too hard. And that's not too unusual for fiction, but I'm not particularly inclined to be charitable about it.

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conuly

Watch on YouTube

But never fear, he no longer has a bear living in his crawlspace. He now has two bears.

conuly

Honestly, if you ban somebody it ought to warn you before you comment on their posts so that if you forget or don't realize you don't end up in an awkward situation.