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Well, I don't know, what are the hours?
It is snowing thickly outside. Somerville has already declared a snow emergency. It remains to be seen how this will interact with the window situation.
I am nonetheless, at the moment, quite happy—among other reasons, because I just saw the results of the 2012 Strange Horizons Readers' Poll. Congratulations to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gwynnega, Sofia Samatar, selidor, and rose_lemberg, who is evidently not sweeping the poll only because she didn't publish five poems with us last year. (All of those poems are my choices. I am actually making a difference as an editor. I am really pleased about this.) Also to alankria for fiction and to hawkwing_lb and rushthatspeaks, my wonderful-writing love, for reviewing. This magazine is pretty awesome.
And because tonight I saw This Is Spinal Tap (1984) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre with my mother, who had never seen it before and loved it, because she recognized the entire scene from the years when her brother was the producer for Kansas, especially the tour where Kansas opened for Queen. "The roadies were exactly like that!"
And because this afternoon I walked down to Ball Square and metderspatchel for lunch at Kelly's. I ordered a Reuben, planning to replace the sauerkraut with coleslaw as usual; the waitress told me they were "out of Reuben" and suggested I try a Monte Cristo. (I didn't think of it at the time, but I bet they were out of corned beef. Happy day after Saint Patrick's Day.) I'd never had a Monte Cristo before. Ham, swiss, turkey, French toast. There was no shortage of each. It is probably a data point that I ate it at two o'clock and with the exception of some coconut lime ice cream from J.P. Lick's around nine-thirty, I haven't really had any food since.
And because I am reading Margaret Talbot's The Entertainer: Movies, Magic and My Father's Twentieth Century (2012), which I pulled off the fifty percent rack at Porter Square Books without having heard of it at all and because of a badly torn page in the index got for a full third of its price. I am a quarter of the way in—teenage carnival barker to hypnotist's assistant—with pre-Code Hollywood still in Lyle Talbot's future and while I recognized his name in the vague way of a person who watches a lot of TCM, Rob placed him from Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959). I am enjoying it enormously so far.
I don't know what will happen with the apartment. We have not yet been able to make an appointment with the building inspector—I am going to call the city again tomorrow—and my room was 54°F when I came home. It's different layers of uncertainty; some of them we can organize and some of them we cannot. But I am still making a life. I insist on that.
I am nonetheless, at the moment, quite happy—among other reasons, because I just saw the results of the 2012 Strange Horizons Readers' Poll. Congratulations to
gwynnega, Sofia Samatar, selidor, and rose_lemberg, who is evidently not sweeping the poll only because she didn't publish five poems with us last year. (All of those poems are my choices. I am actually making a difference as an editor. I am really pleased about this.) Also to alankria for fiction and to hawkwing_lb and rushthatspeaks, my wonderful-writing love, for reviewing. This magazine is pretty awesome.And because tonight I saw This Is Spinal Tap (1984) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre with my mother, who had never seen it before and loved it, because she recognized the entire scene from the years when her brother was the producer for Kansas, especially the tour where Kansas opened for Queen. "The roadies were exactly like that!"
And because this afternoon I walked down to Ball Square and met
derspatchel for lunch at Kelly's. I ordered a Reuben, planning to replace the sauerkraut with coleslaw as usual; the waitress told me they were "out of Reuben" and suggested I try a Monte Cristo. (I didn't think of it at the time, but I bet they were out of corned beef. Happy day after Saint Patrick's Day.) I'd never had a Monte Cristo before. Ham, swiss, turkey, French toast. There was no shortage of each. It is probably a data point that I ate it at two o'clock and with the exception of some coconut lime ice cream from J.P. Lick's around nine-thirty, I haven't really had any food since.And because I am reading Margaret Talbot's The Entertainer: Movies, Magic and My Father's Twentieth Century (2012), which I pulled off the fifty percent rack at Porter Square Books without having heard of it at all and because of a badly torn page in the index got for a full third of its price. I am a quarter of the way in—teenage carnival barker to hypnotist's assistant—with pre-Code Hollywood still in Lyle Talbot's future and while I recognized his name in the vague way of a person who watches a lot of TCM, Rob placed him from Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959). I am enjoying it enormously so far.
I don't know what will happen with the apartment. We have not yet been able to make an appointment with the building inspector—I am going to call the city again tomorrow—and my room was 54°F when I came home. It's different layers of uncertainty; some of them we can organize and some of them we cannot. But I am still making a life. I insist on that.
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When so many of the extant staff members left or announced imminent departure around when Niall stepped up as editor in chief, I wondered whether SH would fade and die. Very glad to see how the new section editors have reinvigorated it--and, um, though reading some Borski poems is fine, it is nice not to have them every 1-2 months anymore.
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Well, I also have my favorites, and I imagine so do
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Strange Horizons is definitely a happening zine!
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I am sleeping with five and a half blankets on my bed. One of them is electric. (I try not to sleep under it while it's on, but I leave it on while I'm showering.) This means I can sleep in my room without waking up in racking shudders, as happened the first couple of nights, but it effectively ruins the space for anything other than sleeping, because the environment is just not comfortable to work or read in. I am spending most of my time in the common room, which has two couches and is near the kitchen, but still. I wanted a room.
Strange Horizons is definitely a happening zine!
I am glad to be part of it.
five blankets, one of them electric
Any luck yet rousing the housing inspector? Granted, today was probably not the best day to try, what with the sleet and snow. And yet the cold makes it even more pressing....
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Yes, provisionally. He is supposed to call me tomorrow. If he doesn't, I'll call him.
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It sounds like your mother has some great Spinal Tap-esque stories.
I hope you can keep warm with the snow and window situation!
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Seriously, I should ask for more.
I hope you can keep warm with the snow and window situation!
We're doing what we can!
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I wish you luck with the snow and the building inspector and all the rest. I also wish you many blankets for tonight.
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Thank you. I'm glad I get sent poems I like.
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A Monte Cristo Which Fights Back:
2 slices my French toast (you've had it)
a pile of honey-baked ham
a pile of smoked pastrami, the kind with black pepper
a pile of good sliced turkey or pulled turkey from Thanksgiving
thinly sliced Muenster cheese
half an avocado, sliced medium-thick
cranberry mustard (this is important)
While toast is hot, spread mustard medium-thin on both slices. Pile rest of ingredients until sandwich is barely closable. Drizzle all over with honey. Press in panini grill or put in oven with a weight on top until cheese melts, which will hold it together. If completely insane (i.e. Thrud), you can also add some hot-pepper jelly.
Grape jelly and powdered sugar, while occasionally occurring in restaurants, are Heretical. Corned beef is acceptable. Non-honeyed ham should be looked at sternly down the nose and then eaten anyway.
This is literally the only reason there is a jar of cranberry mustard in my refrigerator.
These sandwiches are a terrible idea on every level except taste, but I do like one every couple of years.
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Powdered sugar is anathema indeed. A nice cup of real maple syrup for dipping works nicely, even if you end up dipping pieces with your fork. I hope never to encounter grape jelly near a Monte Cristo in the wild. Am digging the avocado/cranberry mustard angle, though!
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I foresee a lot of pan-frying in everyone's future.
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I don't eat a lot of bread and they are very big sandwiches. I have seen them in the wild, but I have no memory of ever eating one. Turkey is also one of those meats that is mostly irrelevant to me as a sandwich material outside of the days immediately following Thanksgiving. I liked Kelly's Monte Cristo enough, however, that I would be willing to experiment with the form.
These sandwiches are a terrible idea on every level except taste, but I do like one every couple of years.
I think we should plan on one.
(Grape jelly and powdered sugar?)
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I have seen restaurants offering grape jelly and powdered sugar as ingredients in Monte Cristos, although fortunately nowhere I've been has been so crazy as to put both on the same sandwich. The powdered sugar, though I wouldn't, I understand where they are getting; not so much the jelly.
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Yeah, it gives away who ate the donuts.
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ignore the powdered sugar all over my pants
circumstantial evidence signifies nothing
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I love you so much.
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And on the topic of sandwiches: the Croque Madame is the best sandwich ever invented.
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Thank you.
And on the topic of sandwiches: the Croque Madame is the best sandwich ever invented.
What differentiates it from the croque-monsieur?
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Nine
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I am afraid in that case I would not eat it, but I can admire its invention.
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I made Reubens for St. Patrick's Day. Then my laptop broke. Maybe Someone Up There objects to my mixing ethnicities.
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. . . Someone Up There has no sense of (culinary or metaphysical) taste.
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(I'm honoured to find myself in such company on the Readers' Poll.)
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Thank you! I like that I was sent them in the first place.
I'm honoured to find myself in such company on the Readers' Poll.)
It's well-deserved.
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Nine
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"Everything has to be folded! And then it's this and I don't want this!"