At SeattleMet, Hayat Norimine describes what it was like to grow up as an only child in a Japanese-Syrian household in Pullman, Washington, a small town eight miles from the Idaho border where issues of race and diversity were never talked about. “My parents never taught me to be proud of race or heritage,” Norimine writes, and it wasn’t until she was a college student in Seattle that she began to see her childhood more clearly.
In her essay exploring race, class, and identity, Norimine describes how she fell for a man from this very place she is from — a place that is “not glamorous or exotic,” and where “many immigrant kids somehow thrived.”
I had known what I was getting myself into, falling for someone who had very strong ties to the Palouse. I was only 23 when we married, and I had never wanted to be content with the first comfortable option I got. I had wanted to move back abroad, even at the risk of losing a green card. But over time my love for Owen translated to a love for the land that made him, helped him grow. I became comfortable with the idea of living there, while Owen—thinking he had made a commitment to someone who’s going anywhere but there—became comfortable with leaving.
Those dusty, yellow-brown rolling Palouse hills that never looked more beautiful? They were decrepit to Owen, a constant reminder of the land that wasted away under chemical farming to which he helped contribute. We’d drive by and he’d point to the gashes in the hills formed by water runoff, a sign of the damage endured after decades of abuse.
We were looking at the same site but saw very different things. I had romanticized returning to the land that Owen’s family held such ownership to. Owen now saw something else—confinement.
After her sought-after, five-letter Instagram handle was stolen by an Iranian hacker, professor Negar Mottahedeh opened up the door to her former homeland, striking up an unlikely friendship with the thief to learn more about a man struggling to earn a living in an economy compromised by 35 years of U.S.-led sanctions. Read the story at Backchannel.
How good of a hacker was he, really? Who were his friends? What sorts of things did he enjoy? What were he and Negar like when they were together? Not knowing him unsettled me. So I was determined to find out.
Mohamad was curious about me, too. It was odd, considering that I was much older than him. It felt like he wanted a trusted friend—someone he could use as a sounding board. He chose me.
He needed money, but more than that, he wanted to find a way out of Iran. He asked me about student visas, tourist visas, work visas; he’d send me links or screenshots with sections circled in red ink, asking me to read through them for him. He discussed his marriage options. Could he find an American girl to marry so he could stay in the US after he got there? Or could I maybe adopt him?
But by robbing me of my online identity, my hacker had unshuttered a window to life in the country of my birth. While I had been barred from my home as a young child, my new setting was chock-full of luck. With my Instagram hacker in my life, my fortuitous situation stared me in the face. Looking at myself through his eyes, my life was abundant. I felt fortunate. I wasn’t about to give up the friendship I had forged with my hacker for anything.
Erotic Poems ed. by Peter Washington -- the hodgepodginess is delightful: Tennyson sandwiched between Baudelaires. Recommended still. If you do read it, be aware that the last poems are all about the fire gutting out, so plan when you read it accordingly.
Villanelles ed. Finch & Mali -- a morning in a hammock in a ponderosa forest gets me to the end. Good stuff, both the older and contemporary workings of the form. Recommended.
Plus various poetry anthology readings not otherwise noted.
In comics: 1) The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl and the Great Lakes Avengers, a compilation of a four-issue arc plus some specials (including her first appearance, as a teenage Iron Man fangirl). Oddly dark, but fun when Squirrel Girl herself is onstage. 2) Super Hero Girls: Summer Olympus, words by Shea Fontana, art by Yancey Labat -- a couple times through, reading it aloud to TBD.
Classical Chinese Literature: An Anthology of Translations: Volume I: from Antiquity to the Tang Dynasty ed. by John Minford & Joseph S.M. Lau -- a thick brick to match the long title, being 1130 pages plus preface and appendices. Found this browsing in the library, and we'll see how far I can get before I run out of renewals. I am very much enjoying the sheer SCOPE: it starts with oracle-bone and bronze-ware inscriptions, which are even more interesting than expected. (Note: volume II seems not to have been published? If so, BOO HISS!) Am less than 20% in, which still covers a lot of ground.
Subject quote from "Goblin Market, Christina Rossetti.
Justin Nobel | Longreads | August 2017 | 8 minutes (2,051 words)
The United States is on the verge of an energy transformation. This spring the nation’s first offshore wind farm officially began powering homes and businesses on Block Island, in Rhode Island. Bureau of Ocean Energy Management maps show 12 areas that have been leased for potential offshore wind development along the East Coast, from the Outer Banks of North Carolina to Cape Cod, and a thirteenth will be leased later this year. In December 2016, Statoil Wind US, part of the Norwegian oil and gas giant, bid $42.5 million to lease, for offshore wind development, a tract of ocean that begins about 15 nautical miles southeast of New York City.
“Since Block Island came online interest in offshore wind along the East Coast has gone through the roof,” says Lorry Wagner, an engineer whose company, Lake Erie Energy Development Corporation is pushing for a wind farm off Cleveland, in Lake Erie. “Every major developer in the world wants to get into the United States and get a project.”
In my first column we journeyed across toxic Louisiana, learning that many of the state’s most terrifying environmental problems are connected to the petrochemical industry. But is there another way to provide jobs for people in south Louisiana oil country? The answer appears to be yes.
Because of the offshore oil industry, and its associated shipyards, fabrication shops, supply vessels, and skilled workers, Louisiana is perfectly situated to take advantage of the wind boom looming over the East Coast. Plus, according to National Renewable Energy Laboratory maps the Gulf of Mexico has good offshore wind potential. Although technical hurdles still exist, such as creating turbine blades that can withstand hurricanes with winds stronger than 120 miles-per-hour , Michael Webber, Deputy Director of University of Texas at Austin’s Energy Institute says, “the Gulf is an obvious place for offshore wind.”
The state’s politicians do not appear to have embraced this free, clean, job-creating resource. But in the offices of Montco Offshore, along a state highway 72 miles southwest of New Orleans, we find Joseph Orgeron, whose story contains an interesting lesson for Louisiana oil country. “My competitors,” Orgeron, a meaty man with a Cajun accent tells us, have taken to calling me, “Don Quixote.”
Orgeron is presently Montco’s chief technology officer. The company operates lift boats, odd-looking ships that are like a floating construction detail. They contain cranes, and by planting long steel feet on the seafloor provide a stable and adjustable platform that enables welders and riggers to perform critical service work on offshore oil rigs. Liftboats have been good business for Montco, but oil is an industry of booms and busts. When crude prices drop rigs stop drilling, and work for oil service companies like Montco dries up. Orgeron, who has a Ph.D. in high energy particle physics and for a time worked analyzing crop forecasts for Mars, the candy company, was brought into the family business to help establish new lines of liftboat customers. Which he did.
During the summer of 2009, while doing a job off the coast of New Jersey for the British Geological Survey, one of Orgeron’s liftboats was docked in Atlantic City, a harbor more accustomed to mega yachts and fringed by casinos. Soon after arriving in town Orgeron received a curious string of calls. Three different offshore wind companies wanted to view his vessel. This is when the lightbulb went off. He began attending offshore wind conferences, and educated himself on the industry. “It’s good for us to be diverse and find other ways to use these vessels,” says Orgeron. “If you don’t have that mentality you are a dinosaur, and you’re going to go out of business.”
One of the companies that had approached him in Atlantic City was Deepwater Wind, a Rhode Island business that at the time was considering a wind farm off Block Island. When Deepwater Wind finally went ahead with their project, in 2015, they chose a New Jersey-based company to perform the critical task of using a 260,000-pound hammer to drive steel piles nearly as long as a football field 100-feet into the seafloor. This company attempted to perform the difficult hammering job from a floating barge and failed. Then Deepwater Wind called on Montco.
“We came in to pinch hit,” says Orgeron, “and hit it out of the park.”
It was a watershed moment. Planting major infrastructure into the seafloor is difficult. And Montco proved that, whether the task be establishing an oil rig or building a wind farm, a Louisiana oil service company could do the job better than anyone.
This past April, Deepwater Wind CEO Jeffrey Grybowski, fast-becoming a renewables celebrity, delivered the closing address at the busy International Offshore Wind Partnering Forum in Annapolis, Maryland. Montco wasn’t the only Louisiana company to contribute on the Block Island project. The wind turbine foundations were designed by Keystone Engineering, in Mandeville, Louisiana, and fabricated in Houma, Louisiana by Gulf Island Fabrication, a company that typically builds ships and structures for the offshore oil industry. In his speech Grybowski thanked three groups; the Europeans for paving the way on offshore wind, the local Rhode Island workforce, and the Louisiana oil service companies.
And more East Coast offshore wind projects are coming. The energy demand is there. The wind is there. Residents are largely living in coastal cities close to the wind. The price of power is high, making renewables competitive. And there isn’t much space or public appetite for large onshore energy projects. “For us, the East Coast of the United States is very much a priority market,” says Jason Folsom, who heads the offshore wind’s sales division in the Americas region for Siemens Gamesa Renewables, the company that established the offshore wind industry. Folsom points out that in 2004 Siemens had 50 employees working in onshore wind in America. Now there are 2,000. He expects offshore wind to have a similar arc.
The secret is out. On August 9, Orgeron spoke on a panel at the Offshore Wind Executive Summit, in Houston, a conference intended to convey to Gulf of Mexico oil service companies the tremendous opportunities in wind. “He is our poster child,” says Jennifer Runyon, chief editor of Renewable Energy World and one of the conference’s organizers. “These oil companies have the engineering skill, and know how to build big projects way out in the ocean. We want them to be paying attention to wind, and figure out how to make some money off it.” On August 22, Orgeron spoke about wind turbine installation at a Bureau of Ocean Energy Management conference in New Orleans. Still, Louisiana politicians have been mostly absent in supporting what seems like a budding industry rich in jobs. “I speak to Louisiana politicians,” says Orgeron, but they have been lukewarm on wind. “They see me as oil and gas.”
Yet the Louisiana oil industry workers that have been exposed to wind have been very receptive. “The crew members on the Block Island project, who have worked all their life in oil in the Gulf of Mexico were just tickled at the chance to work on offshore wind,” says Orgeron. In fact, they call him regularly to check on when the next offshore wind job might be. “It is not that we hate oil and hydrocarbons and are all Greenpeace and Sierra Club,” Orgeron explains. “It’s more like, wind is novel, it is new, it is good to have a change of revenue.”
* * *
We travel north away from the coast on Interstate 49 to Shreveport, in northwestern Louisiana, to meet with Foster Campbell, one of five Louisiana public service commissioners. Apparently, he knows the answer to the question of just why Louisiana politicians have ignored the opportunities presented by offshore wind.
Campbell has worked as a school teacher, an agricultural products salesman, an insurance agent, a farmer and for 27 years as a member of the Louisiana State Senate. In 2016, he ran for US Senate. “Foster Campbell has consistently fought in the interest of regular people…for affordable clean energy, and has shown that he is not a paid servant of the big utilities and energy companies,” the Sierra Club wrote in their endorsement. We find him seated on a couch beneath a photo of a Louisiana black bear.
“We have wonderful people in Louisiana but the oil companies have done a great job of brainwashing Louisianans,” Campbell begins. “People don’t get the real information. The newspapers don’t put it out, and the TV stations don’t want to argue with the industry. The Louisiana Association of Business and Industry, which relies heavily on money from oil and chemical companies, tells politicians what to think. If you’re a normal politician you’ll think the information they give you is reasonable, but all they’re doing is spoon-feeding you horseshit. You take it for granted as true, and the people in Louisiana believe it.”
“I tell you where I see the suffering,” he continues. “We are one of the most undesirable states to live in, and that is a damning statistic. For companies with a lot of smart folks that want to relocate to Louisiana, that makes them not want to come here. We have the third worst poverty rate of any state in the United States. Our environment is right at the bottom. Our roads are right at the bottom. Our education system is right at the bottom. So, would I say our state has been bought and paid for? Yes. I would say the special interests own Louisiana. The oil and chemical companies own Louisiana. And the people’s interests, the interests of most Louisianans, are way down the line. And that is a tragedy.”
We’ve never seen a Louisiana politician quite like this, and ask Campbell how he got this way.
“I was like any other brainwashed Louisiana boy,” he says. “I was a big 4-H member, I showed cattle. And I never thought anything about pollution.” He turns to a man seated across from him named Bill Robertson, his executive assistant. “I’ll be honest,” says Campbell. “I would still be like everyone else, but Bill got me thinking about the environment, then I started seeing the pollution, and the whole world opened up to me.”
Robertson hands us a copy of a 2004 paper Campbell helped commission that discusses the possibility of installing wind turbines on old offshore oil rigs. Engineers have since pointed out that wind turbines create torque offshore oil platforms were not designed to handle. But that a Louisiana politician was actually thinking about this more than a decade ago is impressive. While the winds of a Category 4 hurricane are too powerful for current turbine blades, putting offshore wind in the Gulf looks possible, Siemens engineer Jørgen Rasmussen explains in an email message. “I would be very surprised,” he says, “if we didn’t find suitable sites within the Gulf.”
New designs are already being researched with storms in mind. The University of Virginia and several other universities are working with Sandia National Laboratories to create a turbine that can fold its blades inwards in heavy winds. The design is inspired by how palm trees behave in hurricanes. Researchers at MIT and elsewhere have considered floating wind turbines, which could be tethered to the seafloor by steel cables.
We drive into the Louisiana oil town of Houma and take a seat at a roughneck bar called The Brickhouse to see what the state’s people think about all of this. Turns out the manager, who calls himself Rippa, worked in offshore oil for 20 years. He was injured out there in the early 1990s and is still sour on the industry. Lately, the price of oil has been down and the town is in a slump. Rippa is actually very interested in wind.
“We have the infrastructure, we have the boats, we have the people who can work it,” he says. “And any type of work is good. If it’s going to help out, I’m looking forward to having it.”
The people of south Louisiana are clearly ready for a new vision. But how long will it take? Where else in the country are Americans being cheated out of clean energy and good jobs and healthy environments? When the hot night wind blows, we get up and go.
* * *
Justin Nobel’s stories have appeared in Rolling Stone, Popular Mechanics, Oxford American, Virginia Quarterly Review and been published in Best American Science and Nature Writing 2014, and Best American Travel Writing 2011, and 2016. A book he co-wrote, The Story of Dan Bright, tells the life story of a New Orleans man wrongfully convicted of murder, and was published last year with University of New Orleans Press.
* * *
My email box is full of intense messages between white Quakers and one black Quaker. I've tried to pull the entire discussion into a filtered folder, and right now there are 57 messages from the last week. I feel the only way to do justice is to sit and really read, and that's overwhelming, and this is a little microcosm of the larger world and and and and.
My dad was in Florida with his mother last week, and my aunt flew up here to be with my mother who was too sick to travel. Mom had my sister's family and myself over Saturday night for gumbo. (Dad's prolific okra for the win; Christine didn't have the spoons to deal with my family.) A strange and wonderful thing happened in that my mom asked all of us how we were doing and what was going on with us. How incredibly pleasant! I must discuss this with Dad, in part because i don't know how much this novelty was due to his absence. It could also be due to my mom having had hours and hours to talk to her sister. But also, Mom was sitting down with us before dinner! Also a strange new and pleasant experience. I thing that might be because my sister and i said we'd arrive between 5:30 and 6, and we both arrived at 6. This could be a tool my sister and i use in the future to help my mom not be bustling up to the meal.
Or it was a miraculous alignment not to be repeated in my lifetime. I dunno.
My mom looks so old. I need to see what at what age her mother died: 74. Hmm. Ah, and Mom is 74.
My mom's sister is just a year younger than Mom, but looked years younger at lunch yesterday.
(When i use "mom" as a generic noun, "my mom" i should not capitalize it, but as a form of my name for her, "Mom", i should, right?)
--== ∞ ==--
The eclipse trip included some very intentional routing to avoid traffic and other intense human context. Probably the most awkwardly crowded human and vehicular press of the whole trip was at the Flat Rock Wood Room restaurant. The place was packed and making reservations simply provided for a table, not a parking place. We were in plenty of time, though, and had our spot on the patio where Carrie was welcome along with our party of four.
The intentional routing was to take US 64 west, through many little NC towns. I think i only saw two confederate flags flying in front of homes. There is the vacuum that interstates caused: I-40 arcs northward to hit the mill cities of the triad (Greensboro, Winston Salem, High Point) and all the traffic ends up there, along with the gas stations and fast food places. 64 gets a little traffic from Raleigh to Asheboro, where the state zoo is located, but east of that is even deeper in rural NC.
I enjoy such "blue highway" drives, and i think Carrie did too, standing with her back feet on the back wall of the truck cab, front feet of the console between us, nose working the air brought in by the air conditioner, and alert for hours. Christine, though, experiences anxiety (carrying with her awareness of her "deviant lifestyle") and depression (the lack of human culture beyond church after church). Christine was much happier with interstate driving. I think Christine passes, and i expect we get read as sisters or friends, not as a couple. Her heaviness makes me think of the heavy concern people of color must feel driving through similar areas. JD Lanham gives a good accounting of those experiences.
Gotta go to work: the most adorable photos of the trip were of Carrie. Everyone gushed about her. In the hotel someone exclaimed about how happy she seemed. On the trail, she received constant attention for packing in her own water bottle and treats.
We had a cloudy eclipse, but it still brought with it the experience of darkness, like just at the end of twilight when all color drains from your vision. And the horizon with clouds of pink and gold, a 360° dawn, compressed into moments when light returns.
I'd spent much of Saturday, unpacking boxes from California, looking for where i stashed my camera filters. I failed at that (but unpacked some useful things). I wouldn't have been able to use the filters as it was, and the clouds compensated for my lack of filter.
Lanham, J. D. The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature. Milkweed Editions, 2016.
The prayer hall was small but charming, with pictures of the Dalai Lama.
As ever, everything was colourful and full of pleasing light and shadows.
( nuns and roses )
Due to the vagaries of teenagers, we didn't get a family outing on the steam train yesterday afternoon, but we did manage a family walk to the beach and back.
The weather was warm and quite sunny, though there were lots of clouds, so many other families were at the beach. But it's a big beach so there was plenty of room for everyone. I went for maximum Englishness and rolled up my trousers for a paddle. Afterwards we found signs warning of lesser weaver fish which bury themselves in the sand and sting unsuspecting bare feet with spines along their backs. Fortunately, no stinging happened in the making of this story.
What did happen was the arrival of an air ambulance. There were a couple of ambulances up on the esplanade, lights flashing, but no great fuss (at least not visible from the beach). Then a helicopter flew over the beach, and of course everyone stopped to stare. Not being from around these parts, it was not obvious to us that the livery was air ambulance, but the clues started when it slowly got lower and lower and looked distinctly like it was going to land not far from us on the sand. And it did. No fuss. Everyone standing watching, but everything seeming calm and like this happens all the time. Two paramedics got out and, once the helicopter had taken off again, walked up the beach and up the steps to the esplanade.
Of course I know that helicopters take off vertically, of course I've seen it on TV, but I've never stood so close and watched it happen in real life. It's like magic. As soon as it was a safe distance away a group of small boys rushed over to examine the tracks its feet (what are those things called?) had left in the sand. I was charmed by their mix of playfulness and curiosity.
Voces Inauditae have a concert in Edinburgh on 16th September. It will include a performance of my setting of "Round Me Falls the Night" so I am kindof excited about it! I think this is probably the premiere, though I can't be sure on account of putting my music on CPDL for anyone to download.
Anyway, if you're in Edinburgh or environs and interested in the concert, there are details over on the Book of Face.
AGE: Twenty-three (ee-ee-ee-ee, in the tune of Taylor Swift's "Twenty-two").
ABOUT ME: Software developer in the Silicon Valley, who is surprised and happy at her occupation but struggles with managing the normal day-to-day of adult life. I live with my mom and sister in a Chinatown basement and used to play Neopets a lot as a kid.
INTERESTS & HOBBIES: Ice skating, reading sci-fi/fantasy, anime/manga (particularly josei manga), arts + crafts (crochet, watercolor paints), roller skating, visual novels, watching Let's Play videos, old jrpgs and indie games, Neopets dailies
I don't actually engage in most of my hobbies that often these days, aside from ice skating and possibly rollerskating. :( What can I say, I'm not such a motivated person... Lately, I've been watching some tv shows: GoT, Insecure, Bojack Horseman, and Rick and Morty.
LOOKING FOR: Random musings, journals whose authors have similar interests
WHAT I'LL JOURNAL ABOUT:
- Long, ruminative posts which may exhibit anxiety or depression but hopefully some that just talk about what's been going on in my life.
- References to coding, software engineering, and the Silicon Valley because it's a part of my life.
- Some short, mundane updates about my current status.
- Dating, whenever that happens.*
- Maybe some posts discussing media or literature I've been consuming (books, anime, manga, tv shows, movies).
- I might write about politics or culture if there's something I need to debrief about.**
POSTING FREQUENCY: Probably not that frequent -- I find it hard to manage my time and therefore find it hard to find time to write lengthy, unwieldy posts. But when they come, they might be long to make up for it! ;)
CONFESSION: I've never gotten a tattoo and don't have any piercings***, BUT I secretly want to get a cartilage piercing and double lobe piercing. You know, so I can connect a chain from my helix to my lobe**** :D and just put some studs in my lobe in the other ear.
I'd also love to get a tattoo, only I can't think of any image of enough significance or appeal to me that I'd want to put it on my body. :( And I don't want to just have a random tattoo for the sake of having a tattoo.
It's a confession because I have a very straight-laced appearance to-date, by the way.
OTHER: If you can't tell, I'm a fan of footnotes.
*** The standard lobe piercings I got at 8 healed up after I left them alone when they got infected.
**** But I won't actually do this because I hear cartilage is a pain to pierce due to slow healing, and I hate fuss.
I very rarely fib, so, yes :-)
1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Homemade fried rice, using crushed peanuts and chopped leftover bacon for the protein.
2. Where was your profile picture taken?
It's not a photograph.
3. Worst pain you've ever experienced?
The incision that runs from two inches above my waist, all the way down to the fold.
4. Who was the last person to make you laugh?
A wacky wood-turner on YouTube.
5. How late did you stay up last night?
6. If you could move somewhere else, where would it be?
I like it well enough here, and moving is a pain in the arse. But if I find myself getting rich, I'd probably move to a really nice place in NYC, and pay other people to do all the hard work of moving.
7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Why would I do that? I wouldn't be able to see the fireworks!
8. Which of your Facebook friends lives closest to you?
I continue to refuse to have anything to do with Facebook.
9. How do you feel about turkey burgers?
Waste of good turkey!
10. When was the last time you cried?
Last week, more or less.
11. Who took your profile photo?
It's not a photo.
12. Who was the last person you took a picture with
I don't like having my picture taken.
13. What's your favourite season?
14. If you could have any career.
15. Do you think relationships are ever worth it?
Oh dear Goddess, YES!
16. If you could talk to ANYONE right now who would it be?
Any of several people in faraway places (you know who you are).
17. Are you a good influence?
I try very hard not to be!
18. Does pineapple belong on pizza?
I can't eat pizza - I'm allergic to tomatoes, onions, garlic, mushrooms, olives and olive oil, and cheese. And even if I could eat pizza, I utterly loathe pineapple.
19. You have the remote, what channel are you watching?
I don't watch TV, except New Year's Eve and the 4th of July fireworks.
20. Who do you think will fill this out?
What good news have you had recently? Are you anticipating any more?
Yeah, guess where all the fucking restaurants and cafes and things are in Tosa. Down a hill! Oh and the ENTIRE DOWNTOWN was under construction, making footing occasionally questionable and traffic a fucking nightmare of trying not to DIE. While carrying a purse, water bottle, knitting bag, and fiddle. Construction also meant that either I rode the bus for an hour each way with all the aforementioned, or I got rides in while working out logistics every single fucking day.
And then I started bleeding and having migraines the second day and by the third I hit the point where I Just Couldn't with fiddle class, lest I keel over and puke in the middle of it. Which did not sound like my idea of fun.
2. Since I've been home, every fucking thing or person that can be obnoxious, uncommunicative, confusing, or downright malicious HAS BEEN.
3. The boy's grandfather is dying slow enough that every week brings new and exciting emails from the in-laws.
4. I still need to email Liz C and apologize for missing class, because I was literally on the verge of crying AND puking so I just kind of... didn't say words to people about not going. I am not looking forward to this, which means I should seriously just fucking do it and be done. ETA: oh look public accountability was the kick in the ass I needed whee go me.
5. I also need to do budget and pay a couple bills for the month, except my LastPass has decided that working is totally optional and it would be more fun to fucking lock me out. I don't even fucking know. This is the second time it's done this, I know what the pass IS, I've tried every permutation of typos I can think of and there is just fucking nothing. So I'm gonna have to do the whole long recovery saga with C as the recovery person and then it's gonna tell me that I can't set my new pass to be the same as the old one and I hate everything.
6. The universe will not FUCKING step off the braintwin for so much as half a fucking day and I'm about ready to go down there and light everyONE on fire except it involves travel which I desperately do not want to do for the next ever.
7. ...I REMEMBERED A GOOD THING we made enough for meals at Irishfest when we played Beerfest. And also I didn't get sunburnt to a crisp. I did end up spilling Gatorade all over myself in the car because some drunk and/or stupid asshole nearly backed out of their driveway into us, but in retrospect I will take that over the car getting t-boned. On my side, no less.
8. After calling TWICE to get the shit from the roofers off my FUCKING patio, C gave up and dealt with it tonight. Glad it's done, really fucking pissed that I've been wearing enough clothes to greet maintenance the past few days for no good reason.
I don't know. I am so, so tired, STILL cranky and bitey and full of PTSD, and while I'm sure there's an explanation for how hard Irishfest hit me I'm actually not sure what it IS. Probably because I don't really have the spoons to go digging, and also at this point I'm not entirely sure what would be conflated with recent fannish shit vs classes and strangers and who the fuck knows. ...granted, both classrooms baaaasically had no options that weren't sitting with my back to an open space? But that's not usually enough in and of itself. Might be enough if you take the petty cliquey bullshit of a bunch of older knitters into account. IDEK.
Mostly what I'm doing these days is getting slowly back into routines and then knitting my hands off when I can, as I have like three projects promised to S&K, one just off the needles for myself, another about halfway done for myself, and a third promised to L as soon as she picks the fucking yarn. And I also have vague gestures of a plan toward knitting the ombré waist-length cape of my DREAMS because, um, that's a thing. That I could do. Now that I know how to work this pattern.
(Actually I also have vague gestures toward starting the Bucky!jacket this fall when it cools off more, and maybe the shrug, because frankly that workshop gave me a whole shitload of faith in my ability to figure out what even with a pattern. Except the shrug requires a crochet provisional cast-on and crochet is the DEVIL I cannot fucking figure out how to chain for the LIFE of me.)
And now I'm babbling and should probably go play stupid iPhone games until my brain calms back down.