Awkwardness happening to someone you love
Politically I am still enjoying the fact that I can look at the news and find things in it to be cheered by. Medically I had a dispiriting week and want to hibernate for the rest of the month.
Improvement in the quality of the news does not seem to translate into improvement in my ability to watch movies on my own time, but![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I finished Thorold Dickinson's The Arsenal Stadium Mystery (1939) despite the general lagginess of the Internet Archive lately. The fictional charity match preserves the real-life last game of the season, after which everything went on hold for World War II. I was thrilled by pre-war Esmond Knight and Rob by the origins of the one-nil chant in a line spoken by George Allison.
Yesterdayrushthatspeaks and I ordered dinner from Ebisuya, which reinvented itself this year from a beloved local market to an itameshi restaurant after its new location turned out to come with an imported pizza oven. So far we have only been able to try the pizza, but the chicken katsu is thick with crisp chunks of cutlet under a fine lace of cabbage striped with tonkatsu sauce and kewpie mayo and the Jack-o'-Miso is almost a dessert with its sweet kabocha sauce funkily punctuated by bites of bacon and mozzarella and a black pumpkin grin of nori. The Midnight Web had sold out or we would have ordered its squid ink crust like a shot. Even without squid ink, the crust is improbably paper-thin until it swells into a satisfyingly chewy, airy, charcoal-touched rim. Our next objective is the mentaiko spaghetti.
Having discovered the book for myself around the same time as Farley Mowat and Jean Craighead George, I find it legitimately interesting that Gary Paulsen's Hatchet (1987) was deliberately assigned in schools because it appealed to male non-readers and I wish the article had not stacked the deck for gender essentialism by quoting only women who hated it, inevitably foremost the writer's wife. Who died and invited Henny Youngman?
Despite its noir-worthy plot of genteel blackmail and crooked investigation, The Share Out (1962)—one of the practically infinite series of Edgar Wallace Mysteries produced that decade for Anglo-Amalgamated—runs a second-feature hour without ever feeling as grimy as its nest of double-crosses should, but Alexander Knox and William Russell shoot it out over £500,000 of diamonds and I hadn't expected those worlds to collide.
The red, white, and blue candy corn which I brought home because it was on sale for two dollars tastes exactly like the rocket pops it looks like. I can only assume the target audience is people who are too confused to stop eating it.
Improvement in the quality of the news does not seem to translate into improvement in my ability to watch movies on my own time, but
spatch and I finished Thorold Dickinson's The Arsenal Stadium Mystery (1939) despite the general lagginess of the Internet Archive lately. The fictional charity match preserves the real-life last game of the season, after which everything went on hold for World War II. I was thrilled by pre-war Esmond Knight and Rob by the origins of the one-nil chant in a line spoken by George Allison.Yesterday
rushthatspeaks and I ordered dinner from Ebisuya, which reinvented itself this year from a beloved local market to an itameshi restaurant after its new location turned out to come with an imported pizza oven. So far we have only been able to try the pizza, but the chicken katsu is thick with crisp chunks of cutlet under a fine lace of cabbage striped with tonkatsu sauce and kewpie mayo and the Jack-o'-Miso is almost a dessert with its sweet kabocha sauce funkily punctuated by bites of bacon and mozzarella and a black pumpkin grin of nori. The Midnight Web had sold out or we would have ordered its squid ink crust like a shot. Even without squid ink, the crust is improbably paper-thin until it swells into a satisfyingly chewy, airy, charcoal-touched rim. Our next objective is the mentaiko spaghetti.Having discovered the book for myself around the same time as Farley Mowat and Jean Craighead George, I find it legitimately interesting that Gary Paulsen's Hatchet (1987) was deliberately assigned in schools because it appealed to male non-readers and I wish the article had not stacked the deck for gender essentialism by quoting only women who hated it, inevitably foremost the writer's wife. Who died and invited Henny Youngman?
Despite its noir-worthy plot of genteel blackmail and crooked investigation, The Share Out (1962)—one of the practically infinite series of Edgar Wallace Mysteries produced that decade for Anglo-Amalgamated—runs a second-feature hour without ever feeling as grimy as its nest of double-crosses should, but Alexander Knox and William Russell shoot it out over £500,000 of diamonds and I hadn't expected those worlds to collide.
The red, white, and blue candy corn which I brought home because it was on sale for two dollars tastes exactly like the rocket pops it looks like. I can only assume the target audience is people who are too confused to stop eating it.
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people who are too confused to stop eating it. --I see plaintively miserable people just doing their level best and keeping going...
Here's wishing you rest and recuperation, and the ability to watch and read freely.
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Fortunately there are so many great things to do with a pumpkin!
--I see plaintively miserable people just doing their level best and keeping going...
It doesn't even taste bad! We would have consigned it regretfully to the trash if it had. It just tastes exactly like rocket pops while not being in any way frozen.
Here's wishing you rest and recuperation, and the ability to watch and read freely.
Thank you. I am sleeping very badly as part of it and it's affecting everything. (Except for reading, but everything else is like having had several buses fall on me and the bus removal timeline is unclear.)
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I have managed to wean myself off the appeal of candy corn despite the call of its nostalgia. But a mini candy bar will get me when a large candy bar will not.
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I also loved Island of the Blue Dolphins! And would have expected Hatchet to appeal similarly to readers who liked that kind of outdoor self-reliance in their young protagonists. It surprised me to see so many women in the article who bounced hard off it. The whole thing starts to feel like a reinforcement of binaries: don't try to get the boys to appreciate a girl in the story, give them a boy in the story and tell the girls it wasn't for them.
I have managed to wean myself off the appeal of candy corn despite the call of its nostalgia. But a mini candy bar will get me when a large candy bar will not.
I don't actually eat almost any candy, but I am entertained by the rocket pop candy corn. It was not at all apparent when I bought it that it had any flavor other than the usual.
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Frankly I would have assumed that everyone in elementary school wanted to read about making a life for themselves in an interesting landscape, but I accept the rich variety of the human tapestry etc.
Similarly I think that horse books and the similarities between survival stories and SCA stuff helped me get into fantasy by way of authors with crossover appeal, actually.
Oh, neat. I went more of the other way: I can't remember not reading science fiction and fantasy and built an interest in more historical or mimetic fiction as I grew. (At the same time I did read anything as a child that wasn't nailed down and a couple of things that were, so had a broader grounding to start even if it was not the majority of my preferred reading. The preponderance of my library is almost certainly still speculative. I just added a lot of noir in the last ten years.)
The one thing I ardently did not want to read as a small human was 'realistic' fiction with protagonists trapped in the same sort of mundane circumstances as me.
Understood. I found a lot of realistic fiction alien to read, but not in a way that was as interesting to me as actual aliens.
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Same hat. :D
>> I found a lot of realistic fiction alien to read, but not in a way that was as interesting to me as actual aliens. <<
Agreed. (Perhaps the authors of fictional aliens tended to put more thought into making the worldviews of their characters coherent?)
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Looks good on you.
(Perhaps the authors of fictional aliens tended to put more thought into making the worldviews of their characters coherent?)
I'd believe it. (I actually would: unexamined assumptions in mimetic fiction are a real thing.)
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I had not heard that! Thank you for letting me know. "It sounds like the millstone as it turns around."
(And also a song about the Mothman, which is the one I've been earwormed by.)
I really love that there are Mothman folk songs.
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Glad you've managed to have some good things though!
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*hugs*
The other half still happened!
Glad you've managed to have some good things though!
Thank you! I am trying to do basically nothing with the weekend that requires responsibility from me in hopes that it will help.
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Thank you! I have managed to lie on the couch and watch a feature film about which I had feelings! Now I just need to be able to sleep enough to write about them!
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I am beginning to wonder if the book has become a kind of meme, like thinking about the Roman Empire.
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I was thinking in the specifically gendered sense. I am familiar with the cultural agreement that everyone was traumatized by a particular assigned book.
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I am sorry about the dispiriting medical stuff. ::hugs::
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I know it's a seasonal pizza, but I keep hoping it will prove so popular that they keep it around, because I would eat it basically any time.
I am sorry about the dispiriting medical stuff.
*hugs*
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Ohmygoodness that all sounds amazing. *^^*
I can only assume the target audience is people who are too confused to stop eating it.
The people who saw it and just had to know. *g*
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I am not eating pizza very often these days, but I think it would still be some of the most impressive pizza I had eaten in a while.
The people who saw it and just had to know.
For two bucks, it worked!
I always learn something from your writing
and today it was itameshi — and of course there’s Japanese-Italian fusion cuisine.
May it continue to delight.
Re: I always learn something from your writing
I hope there's some near you!
May it continue to delight.
Thank you!