In this house, we are mapping songs on the evening walls
Today in things.
1.![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I spent the afternoon doing the Kafka, which in this case meant contending with vague and implacable bureaucracy as opposed to turning into bugs. After far too much paperwork, we have finally been reclassified into the appropriate bracket of federal poverty, which does not mean that we can actually afford our healthcare, but at least means that paying for it will impoverish us further at a mildly less precipitous rate. Maybe we should have gone with the bug option after all.
2. After we got out of the insurance office alive, we went to the launch party for the first-ever publication in book form of Jean Berko Gleason's 1958 Wug Test. It was held at Toscanini's, which had invented two varieties of Wug Nut ice cream for the occasion; both were off-limits to me due to the chocolate in one and the chocolate and alcohol in the other, so I admired them from a distance and had no regrets ordering a cup of coconut pandan instead.nineweaving has given me the Virago edition of Sylvia Townsend Warner's The Corner That Held Them (1948), which I am already enjoying.
3. Comments notification for my DW account is currently borked. For years it worked just fine until the recent fix of other people's notification issues, at which point mine went to hell; it was in hell for a couple of days and then it did about a half-anabasisand then there was the latest code push and now it is all katabatic again. I get notifications of some comments and not others and I have no idea what goes on. If I am not responding in a conversation you expect me to, it's not personal. In the meantime, since I use e-mail notifications as part of my personal system of archiving, I am trying not to claw the walls about the gap in the records.
P.S. I meant to post this picture of me and my niece on her birthday. She is not making eye contact with the camera because she is paying attention to Slinky, who was one of her presents and whom she adores. Slinky is of the feminine gender and any use of the definite or indefinite article when referring to her, e.g, "a Slinky," "the Slinky," is rude. It is a proper name.
1.
spatch and I spent the afternoon doing the Kafka, which in this case meant contending with vague and implacable bureaucracy as opposed to turning into bugs. After far too much paperwork, we have finally been reclassified into the appropriate bracket of federal poverty, which does not mean that we can actually afford our healthcare, but at least means that paying for it will impoverish us further at a mildly less precipitous rate. Maybe we should have gone with the bug option after all.2. After we got out of the insurance office alive, we went to the launch party for the first-ever publication in book form of Jean Berko Gleason's 1958 Wug Test. It was held at Toscanini's, which had invented two varieties of Wug Nut ice cream for the occasion; both were off-limits to me due to the chocolate in one and the chocolate and alcohol in the other, so I admired them from a distance and had no regrets ordering a cup of coconut pandan instead.
nineweaving has given me the Virago edition of Sylvia Townsend Warner's The Corner That Held Them (1948), which I am already enjoying.3. Comments notification for my DW account is currently borked. For years it worked just fine until the recent fix of other people's notification issues, at which point mine went to hell; it was in hell for a couple of days and then it did about a half-anabasis
P.S. I meant to post this picture of me and my niece on her birthday. She is not making eye contact with the camera because she is paying attention to Slinky, who was one of her presents and whom she adores. Slinky is of the feminine gender and any use of the definite or indefinite article when referring to her, e.g, "a Slinky," "the Slinky," is rude. It is a proper name.
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Yeah, that is exactly what happened to me, and that is also how I use comments, so it's extra frustrating.
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I admit the speed of the flip from "Yay, it's fixed!" to "Crud, it's broken!" was fast enough to qualify as an archetypal IT joke, but I think we were all—DW staff included—having a tough enough week without it.
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