Pumpkin soup downstairs

Monday evening our downstairs neighbor, Heather, rang the doorbell to invite us to a Chanukah party the following evening (that's last night). I said that I'd be there, and would have to see about cattitude: I like her more than he does, am generally happier about parties, and was expecting to be more energetic.

We rang her bell around 8 last night, and found a very flustered Heather apologizing for being behind with the preparations, and one other guest. This meant--as is normal in my social circles--that we pitched in. The other guest was--literally--pushy about trying to get me to do things she didn't want to, but I mostly ignored her and talked to Heather. Cattitude hung decorations, I cut up vegetables, and then we went back upstairs because Andy wasn't feeling well.

As Heather had suggested, I went back a while later, but Cattitude stayed home. I hung out in the kitchen again, in large part because that was where Heather was: she was the only person there I knew, and the others all knew each other. (She'd been unable to find the other neighbor she wanted to invite.) She was pleased by my suggestion of adding nutmeg to the soup, and I was pleased that she didn't mind my reaching for her spice rack and grabbing the jar of nutmeg while she was the one cooking.

There were ridiculous amounts of food: latkes, of course, the pumpkin soup, crudites, smoked fish, two breads, an assortment of wine and soda. We convinced her that she didn't need to make falafel, given the amount of food relative to the size of the party.

Heather told someone that she had been "surprised Vicki isn't Jewish", so I explained that actually I am, but not observant; I managed to remember about half of the Hebrew for the blessing over the Chanukah candles; there was a discussion of whether multiple menorahs are required, or allowed, which ended in my pointing out that "it's not a mitzvah to set the building on fire" after the candles in the second menorah started falling over. The food was good, but I didn't feel any connection with any of Heather's friends; these things happen. And I was encouraged to bring things upstairs for Cattitude to eat, especially soup--because he was sick--and latkes, because they're symbolic holiday food. So that all worked out well.

Pumpkin soup downstairs

Monday evening our downstairs neighbor, Heather, rang the doorbell to invite us to a Chanukah party the following evening (that's last night). I said that I'd be there, and would have to see about cattitude: I like her more than he does, am generally happier about parties, and was expecting to be more energetic.

We rang her bell around 8 last night, and found a very flustered Heather apologizing for being behind with the preparations, and one other guest. This meant--as is normal in my social circles--that we pitched in. The other guest was--literally--pushy about trying to get me to do things she didn't want to, but I mostly ignored her and talked to Heather. Cattitude hung decorations, I cut up vegetables, and then we went back upstairs because Andy wasn't feeling well.

As Heather had suggested, I went back a while later, but Cattitude stayed home. I hung out in the kitchen again, in large part because that was where Heather was: she was the only person there I knew, and the others all knew each other. (She'd been unable to find the other neighbor she wanted to invite.) She was pleased by my suggestion of adding nutmeg to the soup, and I was pleased that she didn't mind my reaching for her spice rack and grabbing the jar of nutmeg while she was the one cooking.

There were ridiculous amounts of food: latkes, of course, the pumpkin soup, crudites, smoked fish, two breads, an assortment of wine and soda. We convinced her that she didn't need to make falafel, given the amount of food relative to the size of the party.

Heather told someone that she had been "surprised Vicki isn't Jewish", so I explained that actually I am, but not observant; I managed to remember about half of the Hebrew for the blessing over the Chanukah candles; there was a discussion of whether multiple menorahs are required, or allowed, which ended in my pointing out that "it's not a mitzvah to set the building on fire" after the candles in the second menorah started falling over. The food was good, but I didn't feel any connection with any of Heather's friends; these things happen. And I was encouraged to bring things upstairs for Cattitude to eat, especially soup--because he was sick--and latkes, because they're symbolic holiday food. So that all worked out well.

Mom

When I spoke to my mother a few days ago, I mentioned that I'm growing my hair out. Her response included the phrase "I don't approve".

I assured her that I understand about trimming split ends, and we went on to other things.

But I keep thinking about this, partly because I don't remember her explicitly saying she didn't approve of anything in close to 20 years. She hasn't said that about the tattoos, which are much further away from any social norm I might be expected to fit. Maybe she knew that a tattoo, once done, is there barring expensive surgery, whereas hair can always be cut again?

[Poll #224613]

Mom

When I spoke to my mother a few days ago, I mentioned that I'm growing my hair out. Her response included the phrase "I don't approve".

I assured her that I understand about trimming split ends, and we went on to other things.

But I keep thinking about this, partly because I don't remember her explicitly saying she didn't approve of anything in close to 20 years. She hasn't said that about the tattoos, which are much further away from any social norm I might be expected to fit. Maybe she knew that a tattoo, once done, is there barring expensive surgery, whereas hair can always be cut again?

[Poll #224613]

fun with world-building

godkin is the journal of an alien soldier-turned administrator, in an empire driven (at least in part) by an odd theology. Each entry ends with a poll, offering two or more choices for action. The author, haikujaguar, bases the plot in part on the poll results and any comments that people leave.

I just wrote a comment speculating on what being paid--particularly in money--for a task might mean to the people of Shraeven, the newly conquered province that Angharad is going to be governing. Part of the fun of this is a hunch that, before I asked that, the author may not have thought about that question.

I'm having fun with worldbuilding, but it doesn't seem to want to go into anything I'm writing, rather than playing with other people's work. I need characters, and a story. (Yes, Islandia works, but only because after Austin Tappan Wright spent decades on world-building, his daughter put in a lot of effort to find a story in among the maps and other background: Wright had written narrative, it just wasn't his focus.)

posted unpreviewed, because the first try at this hung my machine looking to download the userinfo symbol

fun with world-building

godkin is the journal of an alien soldier-turned administrator, in an empire driven (at least in part) by an odd theology. Each entry ends with a poll, offering two or more choices for action. The author, haikujaguar, bases the plot in part on the poll results and any comments that people leave.

I just wrote a comment speculating on what being paid--particularly in money--for a task might mean to the people of Shraeven, the newly conquered province that Angharad is going to be governing. Part of the fun of this is a hunch that, before I asked that, the author may not have thought about that question.

I'm having fun with worldbuilding, but it doesn't seem to want to go into anything I'm writing, rather than playing with other people's work. I need characters, and a story. (Yes, Islandia works, but only because after Austin Tappan Wright spent decades on world-building, his daughter put in a lot of effort to find a story in among the maps and other background: Wright had written narrative, it just wasn't his focus.)

posted unpreviewed, because the first try at this hung my machine looking to download the userinfo symbol

Purple!

I just re-dyed my hair.

I didn't even need the new container of dye: there was enough in the first one to do a thorough job.

Rinsing my hair thoroughly while wearing latex gloves is a very odd sensation: I'm used to a lot of tactile feedback I wasn't getting.

Purple!

I just re-dyed my hair.

I didn't even need the new container of dye: there was enough in the first one to do a thorough job.

Rinsing my hair thoroughly while wearing latex gloves is a very odd sensation: I'm used to a lot of tactile feedback I wasn't getting.