I made this black cocoa loaf cake yesterday, and followed it exactly as written despite some skepticism, which turned out to be warranted, because the middle of the loaf collapsed as it cooled. Even as I was measuring out 1 TBSP of baking powder(!!!), I was like, this seems excessive, but maybe it's because the cocoa is so alkalinized??? So I might cut that back slightly to 1.5 or 2 tsps if I make it again, which I might, because the flavor is good, despite all that baking powder. I didn't bother with the ganache since I don't have room in the fridge for the cake. But it would also disguise that kind of collapse, so if I were serving it to other people I probably would make it.
It's been gray and cool since last night, but it hasn't rained yet, so I've been able to keep the windows open. I did have to use the AC a couple times last week, especially to sleep, and I'll put it on again when necessary, but it was nice just using the fan last night.
Anyway, work remains busy, the world is on fire, but the Mets stay winning! Gotta take the little joys while you can...
So, that's two events in a row that've been financial busts, and regrettably, between moves and stuff, we have no Pride events lined up.
So we made a Crisis Planning e-zine, which collates and cleans up all our crisis planning essays (and adds a little new stuff besides) and put it up for sale for $5.
Cat Herding: Our beloved Jinksy!bear turned twelve on Saturday. Twelve! He's (by a margin of a good few years) the second-oldest cat I've ever had, and continues to be just the sweetest, softest boy. May he be with us in good health for years to come.
It was also Claudia's birthday, of course, and I always think of her on their birthday. Oh, my darling baby cat.
*The oldest was Jenny, the cat of my childhood who was still with my parents for years after I moved out. She made it to nineteen, most of that time in rock-solid health, and never really forgave me for moving to Toronto and thus straight-up vanishing from her life for months at a time. Reading: I finished reading Jennifer 8 Lee's The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food, which remained an interesting read right through, and read Adrian Tchaikovsky's City of Last Chances, which I think is only the second thing of his I've read? (Elder Race is the other one I'm sure of.) Having finished it, I'm in a position that's annoyingly familiar, where I liked the book quite a bit and am curious about what happens next, but am not sure I cared enough that I'll ever actually get around to picking up the sequel.
(The thing where I've almost entirely been reading books I own for years now doesn't really help, where I've often picked up the first book of a trilogy of series or whatever on sale in ebook because I've heard it's good, and then am not sure I'm invested enough to pay full price on the next one when I own literally hundreds of yet-unread books. Feh.) Watching:scruloose and I are up to date on Murderbot and have seen the first episode of Kingdom season 2.
In the case of the former, I'm skeptical about the nqqvgvba bs n punenpgre jub qbrfa'g nccrne va gur obbxf ng nyy--juvpu V'z abg vaureragyl ntnvafg, tvira gung gur fubj vf pyrneyl vgf bja guvat, naq V'z thrffvat fur'f gurer gb pbairl fbzrguvat gung jbhyq'ir orra gevpxl gb qb gur fnzr jnl va guvf sbezng nf va gur abiryyn. Ohg fur'f naablvat, naq V'yy cebonoyl xrrc svaqvat ure naablvat jurgure fur vf va snpg freivat jung V pheeragyl guvax vf ure cebonoyr shapgvba (rarzl ntrag znfdhrenqvat nf nyyl) be fbzrguvat zber vagrerfgvat. [ROT13] Guess we'll find out soon! Working: Thank goodness the manga I'm working right now is (as usual) a fairly easy rewrite and not a tight deadline, because scrounging the mental energy for freelance work has been frustratingly hard recently. I'm almost halfway through my draft and have about a week and a half left with it, so it's fine, but. :/ Weathering/Householding: We've had a lot of gray days and some high-ish temperatures combined with humidity (which I hate), and the air quality, while not remotely as bad as it is in a lot of places, has been fluctuating significantly...and the AC function of the heat pumps is essentially nonfunctional. >.< This is crappy timing, given how much of the time over the last several days has required having the windows closed (and the air purifiers running for good measure, although they don't address some of the nastiness from wildfire smoke). And for bonus fun, while the heat pumps are still under warranty, the company we bought them from went under a few months ago, which complicates things. (I think possibly the main person died. :/)
That said, scruloose made a bunch of calls today and we have reason to hope that someone can come in and take a look at them soon, if that particular company has the parts in stock. And while it's been uncomfortably warm inside some of the time because of this, at least it's not full summer yet. Hopefully we can get things dealt with by the time summer heat arrives in earnest.
And on a purely pleasant note, a couple nights ago we were in a phase of "somehow the air quality is fine outside right now, so we can just open the windows and run fans" while it was pleasantly cool and raining atmospherically and the wind was doing a wonderful job of wafting the smell of the lilacs into the living room.
This is the first book in a duology, and it's the kind of duology that's really one book split into two volumes. The end of this book is merely the stopping point of this book, not in any way an ending. If that bothers you, wait around until the other half is out.
Honestly I can't tell you why I didn't love this book. I wanted to love this book. It's a secondary world fantasy where one of the central relationships of the book is an aunt and nephew, and that kind of non-standard central relationship is absolutely up my alley. It's a fantasy world where magical environmental contamination is a major threat, which is also of great interest to me. Sensitive yet matter-of-fact handling of trans characters, check. Worldbuilding that deviates from standard, check. And there wasn't anything that made me roll my eyes or say ugh! It was just fine! But for me, at least, it was just fine. Honestly if this is your sort of thing I kind of wish you'd read it and tell me what you think might have been going on here, or if it's just...that some books and some people are ships passing in the night.
forestofglory (forestofglory) wrote2025-06-0911:16 am
Here's some thoughts on media I read and watched recently
Little Thieves by Margaret Owen— This YA fantasy novel was really fun! There are lots of heists and disguises. All the moms are terrible but they aren't dead (being Death doesn't count). I really hated all italicized German words (it is not a problem that they were German I just hate it when “foreign” words are italicized, it's both othering and distracting to me as a reader) However this really sucked me in! It’s fast paced and twisty and the worldbuilding feels grounded.
Coffee Prince ep 5-20— I finished this classic of crossdressing girl media. It was cute and fun! I got a great comment on my post about crossdressing girl media about how crossdressing allows women to form friendships with men on more equal footing. This drama really leans into that and the pleasure of being ‘one of the boys” without having to justify oneself.
This did the best job of “The MC thinks he’s gay because he likes the crossdressing FL” that I’ve seen (Though I haven’t seen many) it could be even better but I was pleased with it nonetheless.
(Content note: Blink and you'll miss it miscarriage and fertility issues)
The Sapling Cage by Margaret Killjoy— Somehow no one told me that it is a crossdressing story but trans. That is, the main character is a trans girl who starts the book thinking she’s a boy in disguise. Interestingly she "disguises" herself as a girl so that she can go out into the world and become a witch (mostly crossdressing men in media are trying to access "inner" spaces). The author even thanks Tamora Pierce in her acknowledgments, so it's very clearly part of that tradition.
What people did tell me about this book is that there are a bunch of meetings, in fact I was expecting more meetings based on how much people talked about them.There are some meetings, but they don’t drag out and are often summarized. But I was not expecting it to be quite as brutal as it was, there was a lot of fighting and some killing, and also quite a bit of phillosy about power and making choices. Definitely a book that gave me a lot to think about.
I don’t often go seek out reviews after I read a book, but this one I really wanted to see what other people said about it. I really liked Roseanna’s review.
The Truth Season 3 cases 4-5— I continue to really enjoy this show! I especially liked the set of costumes that looked part of a production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. Also they have been playing with the format in fun ways with these two cases.
Crisis Planning: Legal Stuff: Wills, Organ/Body Donations, and DNR/MOLST/POLST Forms Series: Essay (Crisis Planning) Summary: A guide to living wills, health care agents, organ/body donations, and DNR/MOLST/POLST forms (i.e., how to make sure you get the care you want and not the stuff you don't when you're unable to make your desires known). Notes: Winner of the fan poll this month! If you want to support my work, join LiberaPay or Patreon and get double-weight for your votes. Also, these crisis plan essays have proven so popular (and regrettably necessary) that we have made a whole ebook of them up for sale for $5 here.
Nobody likes to think about this stuff, but seriously, think it over, especially if any of the following is a concern of yours: • Ending up under the care of your abusers if medically incapacitated. • Being denied medical care you need, leading to your “merciful” death. • Making sure your loved ones know what to do if you’re in a coma. • Donating your body to science.
At the clinic, a nurse was putting an IV in my wrist. We were chatting and I mentioned something about being old. "No, you're not!" she said, cheerfully. Our conversation moved on, but since then I cannot stop thinking about it.
My age is a fact. I'm old! The government thinks I am old, as I am on Medicare and receive social security. My hair is grey. I have all kinds of health problems.
The idea that being old is bad and shameful is pervasive; that is what underlies the nurse's comment that I'm not old. She knew how old I am; she was reading my records. I think she heard my acknowledgement of my age as some kind of admission of defeat. I think she was trying to cheer me up or offer support.
Or perhaps it was that my appearance, in spite of my grey hair, doesn't match my numerical age.
When someone tells me that I'm not old or that I'm not ill or that I'm not autistic or that I don't have ADHD, I want to politely and honestly explain why what they said is a problem. Unfortunately, my experience is that there is nothing I can say that will achieve this. I've tried. The need to deny that I am any of these things is so great that people won't listen. They keep talking, defending their belief.
I understand this is about their own discomfort, their own issues. But it annoys me no end.
Rok continues to be the best at everything, and deserves all the hugs. Though I remain baffled how ST thinks they can on one hand have post-scarcity nearly everywhere (including, one presumes, in places just outside of the Federation where they can easily abscond with probable Federation citizens) and also have seedy underbellies everywhere as well. The problem is that they never actually worked out how it all works, and I think the only solution is to ditch the idea that even the Federation really has no currency and is totally post-scarcity. Everybody has their basic needs met, I'll agree is supported by the writing. Anything past that, no.
Anyway, Rok's friend in her tragic backstory was clearly no more able to leave that situation than she was and though I can see there's too much plot for that to happen in canon I really hope they could rescue him.
Speaking of tragic backstories, I cannot believe a. that Dal tried to say his was the worst and b. his version of being "the worst" absolutely skips past the part where ( Read more... ) But seriously, dude, you grew up as a slave on a mine full of child slaves. It's not a situation people get into because their life was just so great beforehand. If everything was hunky-dory, none of you would've been targeted in the first damn place. You all have a terrible backstory, you don't need to prove it!
Moving on, Murf continues to also be the best, but ffs, can somebody get him an AAC? Or a whiteboard, at least? Teach him sign language? This is a solved problem even in the real world, surely Starfleet can figure it out!
Nothing to say about Jankom, he's just there. *shrug* And I feel kinda ditto about Zero, tbh. I mean, I like them, but....
Ma'Jel, between her cool hair and her increasingly consternated expression as the turbolift got more and more crowded, is clearly not one of the most unemotional Vulcans out there. (I don't care what Vulcans say, the opposite of "logical" is not "emotional", it's just "illogical".) I feel like she and our darling T'Lyn would have a lot to talk about.
The adults on the ship - this show is clearly trying to walk a fine line between keeping them competent and allowing the kids to run circles around them. I'm not sure it always works, but I appreciate the effort, and also I appreciate how they were careful to make it clear that the adults, whether they're being strict or a bit Too Much, are only acting the way they do because they're sympathetic. (Frankly, all the kids could stand to appreciate their new situation a bit more - except Rok, she already gets it - but I understand why they're struggling a bit.)
I dunno, what do you guys want me to rant about? The Freedom Flotilla? LA vs. ICE? The fact that my government is planning more pipelines while sending in the army to deal with out-of-control wildfires? Or, closer to home, Bill 5 or the Toronto bubble zone law, or...?
This is why people curl up and retreat into fiction.
In 2018, I wrote the post below about bedtime procrastination. The term was new to me, the concept was not. I was a bedtime procrastinator. And, spoiler alert, I still am a bedtime procrastinator. Zero improvement.
There’s a new term now, an even more delicious one: Revenge bedtime procrastination. Here’s how a Web MD article defines it: “It means you get ‘revenge’ for your busy daytime schedule by fitting in leisure time at the expense of shut-eye.”
Who am I retaliating against? In this case, I am both the subject and object. Who will win? Me, by reclaiming the time work, children, and chores have stolen from me! Who will lose? Me, by getting so little sleep I am irritable and exhausted the next day (or, because this is habitual, every day). Whee!
*****
Yesterday at 8:23am, my husband texted me a link. No note, just a string of random letters and slashes and dots. I clicked and landed on a research article titled “Why don’t you go to bed on time?”
The manuscript begins like this: “Most people do not get enough sleep on work days despite sleep’s importance for well-being, performance, and health. A phenomenon held responsible for promoting insufficient sleep on work days is bedtime procrastination. Bedtime procrastination is defined as ‘going to bed later than intended, without having external reasons for doing so’, that is, ‘people just fail to [go to bed].’”
Ah, bedtime procrastination. I had never heard the term before, but I am intimately familiar with the concept of failing to go to bed. If bedtime procrastination had a poster, I would be that poster’s child. My husband, on the other hand, does not procrastinate. He is a bedtime anticipator. A bedtime enthusiast. A bedtime yearner. He would go to bed right now if you let him.
The texted link was clearly the latest passive aggressive salvo in our years-long battle to define an appropriate bedtime. Me: 12-1am. Him: 9:30pm or, better yet, immediately.
According to the prevailing scientific theory, procrastination—of any task—can be explained as a failure to self regulate. That is, I want to go to bed at 10pm. I know I should go to bed at 10pm. I know staying up will cause next-day exhaustion and general grumpiness. But I still cannot manage to get my head on the pillow. Instead I stay up watching TV and eating ice cream. I give into delicious temptation.
The authors of this new paper, however, argue that bedtime procrastination might be driven instead by an individual’s circadian rhythms. In other words, I procrastinate going to bed because I am naturally an evening person (what chronobiologists like to call an “owl”), not necessarily because I am momentarily reckless and impulsive.
The researchers didn’t find overwhelming evidence to support this idea. In fact, their results were decidedly mixed. But neither explanation feels very satisfying to me. It’s true I’m a night owl. And, yes, I am not great at resisting temptation. But there’s another factor the authors didn’t even mention: parenthood.
I have a two-and-a-half-year old who goes to bed at 8pm on a good night. She wakes between 6am and 7am. If I want to ensure eight hours of shuteye, I need to be asleep by 10pm. That gives me two hours of free time each evening. But not really. Because I need at least 30 minutes to get ready for bed and to fall asleep. So I’m down to an hour and a half.
Here is what I can do in an hour and a half:
Eat a piece of chocolate while sorting through the Subaru dealership coupons stuck to the fridge.
Pick up 27 Magna-tiles, 13 puzzle pieces, 11 paper coins, three stuffed dog toys, two pairs of underwear, one pile of smashed purple Play-doh, and a pretend sippy cup of pretend orange juice.
Contemplate reorganizing the living room.
Research possible Ikea solutions for living room reorganization.
Liberate a giant bouncy ball from under the couch.
Vacuum the living room really well (even under the couch).
Pour a glass of wine.
Fold the laundry while watching the tail end of some stupid cop or doctor show (is network TV composed entirely of cop and doctor shows?).
That’s it. That’s all I can do. And I have to really hustle. 10pm rolls around and the wine is not drunk. The laundry is not put away. And the vacuum is still lying in the middle of the living room rug.
I have not read a single word of my novel. I have not found an Ikea solution to my living room chaos. I have not pondered any mysteries or had Deep Thoughts or eaten a second piece of chocolate. I have not made popcorn. I have not done anything satisfying at all (except getting the bouncy ball unstuck). A 10pm bedtime doesn’t even allow me to watch the 10 o’clock news. I have to go to bed without knowing tomorrow’s weather. Like an animal.
And so the clock strikes 10 and I think “No!” or sometimes “NO!” I #resist. I stage a one-woman rebellion. I watch the local news and comment on its inanity. I finish my wine. I read a chapter of my book. I watch a highly acclaimed show of my choosing from start to finish. I live, goddammit! I live like no one is watching.
Usually no one is, because by then it’s 11:45pm. My husband (the Man) has been in bed for hours.
He used to try to cajole me into bed earlier by saying things like, “we should really try to get a good night’s sleep.” Or “we should go to bed really early tonight.” But that only added fuel to my bonfire of bedtime resistance. “You go to bed, old man!” I’d yell. And now he does.
Before I had a child, I could spend my entire evening eating chocolates and sorting Subaru coupons. Now my free time is condensed into that hour and a half between my toddler’s bedtime and my own theoretical one. By procrastinating bedtime, I am reclaiming my time. That reclaimed time is precious. More precious even than sleep.
When there are 2 people wearing masks on a bus, sometimes the other one will mention it to me. When I'm the only person masking on a bus (as is increasingly the case), sometimes a person will ask if I'm masking because I'm sick, and I'll usually say I'm just being cautious. I usually don't want to go into details.
I had several quick and pleasant interactions with strangers on the trolley and and at the bus stop with strangers who liked my hat. I believe they appreciated my idea of sewing a progress pride ribbon over the hatband, or perhaps meant to express solidarity. It was even possible they recognized the low crown and broad brim makes it the most flattering hat I've ever owned. In any case, I wasn't expecting an unpleasant interaction on the bus.
Stranger: Why are you wearing a mask? Adrian: I'm being cautious. Stranger: Why are you wearing a mask? Nobody else is wearing a mask! Adrian: I'm being cautious. I had a bad case of Covid and I really don't want to get it again. Stranger: Nobody else is wearing a mask! There is no Covid. You can't have Covid. What are you doing wearing a mask?
I stopped talking. There's no point trying to reason with nonsense. A few minutes later a nice person offered me a seat.
In retrospect, I wish I had told him "I'm a weirdo. I dress like a weirdo. You had better get used to people who dress like weirdos pretty quickly, because this bus is going to Cambridge."
For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, I made a GF variant of Emma Goldman's blintz recipe this morning. (It's because for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, I happened to have farmer cheese in the house.)
When I went looking for something snappy to turn my blintzes into a post, the first quotation on wikiquote is from a newspaper report after her arrest:
I feel sure that the police are helping us more than I could do in ten years. They are making more anarchists than the most prominent people connected with the anarchist cause could make in ten years. If they will only continue I shall be very grateful; they will save me lots of work.
Anyway I am not an anarchist by any measure whatsoever, but I have generally found reading Emma Goldman to be informative and fulfilling (My Disillusionment in Russia is gutwrenching and honestly I think keyboard warriors should read it). Her wikiquote page is so chock full of evergreen statements that I can't even cherrypick anything else to quote. But how about this one?
The very proclaimers of "America first" have long before this betrayed the fundamental principles of real Americanism...the other truly great Americans who aimed to make of this country a haven of refuge, who hoped that all the disinherited and oppressed people in coming to these shores would give character, quality and meaning to the country.
You can make blintzes vegan, too, if you use banana instead of the egg and flip the blattlach very gently. That can be potato or blueberry blintzes, although I've seen a recipe for blintzes with cashew cheese.
My right knee is healing, and stretching worked significantly better than yesterday. I even did a few carefully selected PT exercises this afternoon.
I can do more things standing up, and walking around the apartment is easier. However, I seem to have been leaning too much on the other leg, because my left knee started to hurt earlier. Not badly, but enough that I am putting the cane aside for the moment.
update Monday, 6/9: my knees feel mostly OK today. I am still being careful about walking a lot or standing too long. I just got the mail, figuring the two steps down to the mailboxes would be a useful check of how I'm doing. It was doable, but did hurt a little; I'm glad I decided not to go out. (The sidewalk is down another half dozen stairs, which are a bit more difficult than the ones inside, but the main thing is that this way I only had to climb back up two stairs.)
I heard from the GI doctor's office this morning, and have an appointment Friday at 10:30, which will be telemedicine. I hope my knees will be feeling a lot better by then, but if she had wanted to see me in person, I would have called a lyft and taken the quad cane with me just in case.
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andrewducker) wrote2025-06-10 12:00 pm
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