However, she was angry when I took a photograph after shampoo.
United States v. One Tyrannosaurus Bataar Skeleton.
- I have deleted my LJ. That was very bittersweet. I also posted about it over on FB, mostly in the hopes of luring more people over here to DW. I want there to be a return to long-form blogging on a social network,
complete with people commenting! Will it happen? No idea. But I want it to.
- Over on Tumblr and FB, I burbled about the silver replica of the ankh from The Hunger that I have, and how I'm constantly on the search for another one, because what if I lose the one I have?! This led to someone putting me in touch with the original silversmith here in Seattle, so I messaged him. Yep, he can still make them, but with the effort involved and the rise in silver prices, it would cost $250. I still may save up for it.
- UGH, summerlike weather. I'm not ready for it. No, I never will be.
- I have been successfully talked out of the Killstar mesh Lilith maxi dress. I was eyeing it because I have a ridiculous weakness for nu-goth pop culture occult clothing, and I was idly thinking that (much like the other ridiculous occult symbol dress I bought from them years ago) I could add wide lace gores to the sides and back of the skirts, then wear it over a sundress and petticoats. But as a few people pointed out, the black-on-black embroidery would only show up over skin or light colors, so it wouldn't look the way I wanted it to. ALSO, I wasn't seriously considering buying it, because I have recently learned that Killstar has a habit of ripping off ideas and designs from independant designers, and I don't want to support that.
- But silly pop culture occult clothing! What I should do is buy a bunch of the black rayon sundresses from Dharma Trading Co., then have Thea paint things on them for me. Because summer is when I revert to my full-on witchy Stevie Nicks fashion roots.
- What else? Now that work stress has dropped and I'm on new brain meds, I've been able to brainstorm some other projects. We'll see if I can make this summer a productive one, writing-wise. (In addition to finally (FINALLY) tackling the Great Uncluttering.)
- But tomorrow? Tomorrow I am spending on the couch, reading vintage gothic romances. While wearing a ruffled white nightgown. Because I CAN.
Russian officials discussed how to influence Trump's aides last summer.
How worried should Jared Kushner be? The Russian ambassador told Moscow that Kushner wanted a secret communications channel with the Kremlin. And experienced intelligence officials say Kushner's backchannel plan is like nothing they've ever seen.
Trump's travel ban "drips with intolerance."
Dept. of Whatthefuckingfuck: 11 years old, raped, now with a child, forced to marry her rapist -- in Florida. And this is, apparently, not uncommon with underage marriages. Way underage. How is it that kids who have barely reached puberty are being married in the US?
Stories of New Orleans -- as Confederate memorials come down, family histories emerge.
The surreal post-election life of Hillary Clinton.
Poverty isn't a lack of character -- it's a lack of cash.
Chris Pine on why we need Wonder Woman: "Men are just not that smart."
Sir Arthur Sullivan's cello concerto -- with his manuscript to follow as it's played. Thank you, Classical Music community!
⌈ Secret Post #3798 ⌋
Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.
( More! )
Secrets Left to Post: 02 pages, 38 secrets from Secret Submission Post #544.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.
The Guardian, in one of many rapturous reviews, says:
Suffice to say that the official one-line synopsis of The Red Turtle – "the milestones in the life of a human being" – rings entirely true; the cycle of birth, death and rebirth is expressed with piercing clarity.
... which is sort of accurate, but very telling about expected audiences, and reviewers, and... everyone involved in the thing.
( 'ware spoilers! )
To be clear, I'm glad that I saw it: I loved the animals and the textures and the ways in which one got to know the small island; I loved the atmosphere and the great sweeping shots of tiny people against a vast expanse of sea and sky; I loved the detail of the glass bottle that washed up on the shore, echoing a much earlier barrel.
I just really wish that it didn't, in framing itself as universal, once again write the experiences of anyone who's not a factory-default man completely out of the story.
So, with content notes for transmisogyny and transmisogynist violence, here's the very brief summary of why -- regardless of party leadership's opinion on that matter -- that poster is Not Okay. (Yes, I have explained this in painstaking detail in reply to the e-mail from the party.)
( Read more... )
You volunteer for a thing. Good for you. Seriously, non-sarcastically: good. The world needs people to step up on so many fronts, and you do. And you do the thing, and then the thing gets done, and sometimes you have a natural gift for it, and sometimes you don’t, sometimes you just work hard at it and do some learning and figure out the thing. You get good at the thing, fast or slow you get good at it. There’s a little bit of applause but maybe not as much as there is work done. There never really is, that’s how volunteering works.
Great! Fantastic! Now stop.
I’m serious. I’m really, really not kidding. You need you to stop. Your organization needs you to stop.
Not stop volunteering completely. Nope. The world needs people to step up. But here’s the problem: if the same person steps up to the same job for too long, it becomes invisible. It becomes A’s job. And A still gets thanked, hey, good job, A, what would we ever do without A. But sometimes that last rhetorical question turns literal: A is probably not immune to breaking their leg, having a family member who needs care, a job crisis, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to travel to Tahiti. (Or Australia. Hi, Paul.) A, to get really morbid with you, is probably not the world’s first immortal. So if you can’t do the thing without A…you can’t do the thing. And the more important the thing is, the more that’s a problem.
Also of concern, and very hard to bring up: sometimes A’s skills slip for one reason or another. Yes, you. Even if you’re A.
Say you’re arranging the little kids’ Christmas program. And the first two years, you are filled with joy and energy and you have so many ideas and it is amazing! And people tell you how amazing it is! The best ever! My golly! What a Christmas program! And the next few years, you have not quite so much joy but so much experience, so the combination is still pretty great, probably better than anyone else could do! Wow! You are the Christmas program monarch! And when a 4-year-old vomits off the back of the risers, you have someone ready to clean it up quietly, and you have enough adults to make sure that the 6-year-olds do not rampage when they get offstage afterwards, and this is just a super, super job!
And ten years down the line, not one single person has approached the beloved mainstay of the community to say, “Your Christmas programs stink on ice and you need to stop.” Which of course they would feel totally comfortable doing, so you can definitely tell that you’re still at the top of your game and feedback will always get to you before people are frustrated enough for it to be non-constructive.
Say it’s not the Christmas program. And it’s not just burnout. Say it’s finances, and say your memory has started to go. This is not a random example; I know someone who was in charge of part of the finances of a volunteer organization and started to slip into the early stages of Alzheimer’s. And for the first few years, experience carried them through, and I bet that they told themselves that it was still fine and they were still doing a better job than anyone else would have done. And for the first few years they were probably even right. And by the time they moved into the memory unit, there was literally over a decade of mishandled finances for that volunteer organization. No one is the villain here. That person is not a bad person. But we never think it’s us. We never think, I bet I’m the problem here.
Nor is Alzheimer’s the only way this can happen. There are habits of thought one falls into, things that seem obvious, that are just The Way We’ve Always Done It, and some of them are because We have had Bitter Experience, and some of them are…just habit. Sometimes the Bitter Experience no longer applies. Sometimes this is all very true, and passing the job along to someone else will mean that it is done worse. We have to do that anyway. We have to be willing to let someone else make mistakes and do it worse sometimes. And sometimes we can pass along notes and advice and all sorts of information to make this smoother, but it can never be perfect.
But seriously. Rotating jobs. Changing what you’re volunteering for. I very, very occasionally see this discussed as a favor to yourself to avoid burnout, and it is. It’s also a favor to your organization. And you can come back after a few years, when someone else has taken a turn and learned to do the thing…although if it’s always you and the same person alternating, that also tells you a thing about the organization.
The last question is, what if no one else steps up? And the answer is: that tells you something about the health of the organization, right there. If no one else steps up and you are literally the only one, then maybe it’s time to say that your volunteer energies should be used on something else anyway. Which is a bitter pill to swallow when you’ve put a lot of time, energy, and love into something. But. Sometimes.
I have no exact perfect answer for a timeline on this. There is no five-year rule or ten-year rule or one-year rule. It depends on what you’re doing, how often it happens, what kind of energy it requires, what size of group, all sorts of things. But I’ve seen this in more than one kind of organization–churches, art groups, science fiction conventions–all in the last year, so I thought I’d say: we never think it’s us. Sometimes it’s us when we least want it to be, and those times are the times when we get the least signaling about it.
1. Iced coffee. Turkey bacon. Challah french toast.
2. Cuddling with my kid yesterday and marathoning a bunch of Sword Art Online, which I enjoy as much as he does.
3. My kid is seven and a half today! On his suggestion, we're going to the grocery store later today to get cupcakes to share with friends later this afternoon.
4. Watching wee birds at my bird feeder, supping on seeds.
5. Friends. Including all of you.