RHPS || Don't dream it be it.

(no subject)

My dear friends Matt and Kels really turned my birthday around (they took me to Build-A-Bear, where I'd never been, and got me a dapper rainbow bear). My parents and I then had an impromptu dinner-and-a-film in my home city.

A piece of Lark/Rosethorn art (from Tamora Pierce's Emelan universe--"Circle of Magic" and beyond--which is my other main fandom) was posted on my birthday, too, even though I didn't see it until a few hours after. They're my only OT[Polyamorous]P to date; other characters I'm willing to, as I said to the author, ship all around the mulberry bush. (Some of the reason they're my OTP is that I can still ship them 'round the mulberry bush and have it be canon that it's happening consensually and polyamorously, with the two remaining a couple.) Two of my best fandom friends pointed it out to me.

The art is by Minuiko; she did it for the February Femslash month:

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As usual, I'm up too late; I've been watching The Worst Witch and trying to get through the "I've read this and should update on it" pile. I've put off the packing I'll need to do for tomorrow and Sunday, plus the lesson-planning for Sunday's class, as well. For once there's little guilt.

Tomorrow is Big Doc's funeral. It'll be my first personal funeral, that of someone I truly knew. We're crossing our fingers the snow doesn't toss a wrench in everything. After the funeral, when it comes down to mostly just family again (usually mine is included), things are likely to get a bit more light-hearted again. My mother tells me that the other night, come one in the morning, she and all the four children of Big Doc got the idea to dress up in his worst outfits and put one on the giant teddy (taller than me) that they'd once bought him. I'll have to see the pictures and videos soon. That's just the sort of thing that Big Doc would laugh and laugh away at, I imagine. I'm glad to have been brought up by a community of family that learned to deal so well with everything, too, in acknowledging that there really must be some humour in with the grief, especially when grieving someone whose life was full of humour and who so dearly loved laughing.

I've inherited the wheelchair they all bought Big Doc for the trip to Italy; it will be very useful for when I go day-walking places as I won't have to rent, which is always a touch disconcerting.

I should be off to sleep now. I'll have to wake up earlier because I procrastinated, although in the end I'll likely just throw some shite in a bag, dress myself up well enough, and get on with it.

I'm 23. I have a new teddy bear. That sounds about right. Good night!

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
  • Current Mood
    calm Calm.
EA || Mrs. Fisher || Is that so?

(no subject)

I do my clothes shopping at thrift stores. Mostly at Savers since they're big and all over MA/RI. I shop at thrift stores partially due to budget, partially due to the guilt I don't get over buying/donating clothes and making it a cycle, and mostly out of my firm conviction to 'reduce, reuse, recycle'.

Yesterday there was a 50% off holiday sale for clothes and shoes. I told my mother about it the other day and she gave me $20 to spend because my birthday is coming up and she knew that would get me quite a bit.

I got a little green pencil box (sick of keeping my pens all disorganised in my little desk box meant for desk tools), a pair of forest-green jeans (love), one short-sleeved button-down (another muted green because apparently I take great pleasure in pretending to be a tree), three long-sleeved button-downs (one black with hidden designs, one purple with darker purple stripes, one black with various purple stripes), and two pairs of slacks (one black and one dark-ish beige, XL from the boy's section).

Slightly embarrassing to be shopping from the boy's section but hey, some of them fit, they're cheap to begin with ($3-4) and with 50% off? I think 'yes' is my answer to $1.50-2.00 slacks that fit. I'll just have to look for XL shirts next time, too. (And I used to seek out the XL girl's section for dresses, honestly, because they were more likely to fit my height even if they didn't fit my bust... *sigh*)

Anyway, I checked the pocket of the dark-beige slacks and found a piece of folded up paper. It has a polar bear and a squirrel dressed up in winter clothes and ice-skating on a pond. On it is written, in a young boy's hand writing:

Ephesians 5:20

Giving the thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ

I like the addition of "the". I wonder how his parents or guardians would feel about his old slacks being worn by a heathen lesbian... *Grins.*

Thanks for the trousers, anyway!

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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    giggly Giggly.
HP || Rolanda || Watchful eye.

(no subject)

Big Doc, the father of my night-aunts (to the point that I just call them aunts), died on the evening of the 17th. It's sad, certainly, but it was long in coming and with that I am not torn up overmuch (he'd have hated that anyway I imagine; he always wanted people gathering to sing and celebrate).

I lost my English Grand-Dad at 9 and for all intents and purposes my English Nana already, for I will never again sit in a room with her the way I did at 17 (when I visited to tour universities) or even 19 (when uncle and I visited during my break); she's made the decision to stop eating at least once though Western medicine pushed her through. Still, I only ever spent a number of weeks with them total in my life. In that way, Big Doc was as much a grandfather to me as anyone else.

I keep thinking of him and smiling. The way he loved to be around people, and the way he'd nod along even when I was damned well sure he couldn't hear a word of what people were saying, he was just so happy to have people around him. I always thought he looked like an excited puppy-dog, with the gleeful eyes and the long wise hair of his brows; I'd have sworn that if he had a tail, it would have been wagging. He may as well have been Big Dog. Especially down at the Cape, with his daily newspaper-retrieval and his daily swim and his frequent desire for treats (like ice cream at the Whistle Stop Ice Cream Place).

He came to my UU congregation a few times and seemed to love it. I'd get the word back in the Religious Education wing that I was being summoned and eventually I'd end up around my mother, who would tell me Big Doc was waiting for me. I sat and asked him questions, well aware that at that point (with his hearing far gone, the noise up high, and his health) the interaction meant much more than the conversation.

Happy old man surrounded by love and song. I've never met anyone so dedicated to keeping a community around, being sociable just to be sociable, and keeping the guitars well-strummed or the pianos well-played.

I'll miss him. It was his time to pass, though, and mostly my thoughts are over his life lived to the fullest. There will always be a piece of Big Doc spirit, symbolic tail a-wagging and eyes a-glow, down at the Cape; in England too, I'm sure, and wherever else he went.

Sing it, Big Doc!

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
  • Current Mood
    indescribable Grateful.
Rainbow || Rainbow northern lights.

(no subject)

Eeeeeiiiii! Misti-Con extended its standard registration price until March 1st, which means I have more time to see how financially stable I feel for the future before putting in my registration. That is exciting.

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I had to stop halfway through that to play with the ferret that came gallivanting into my room followed by the big cat-kitten Bruce Wayne. (Bruce meows from Greggles' room across the hall but sounds like this tiny little kitten when really he's a rather well-sized cat, silly thing.)

Today I wore a gender-bender-splendour outfit. I was standing there trying to figure out whether to wear a sports bra or my balconette bra and first thought, "No, the balconette is too femme for the button-down, bow-tie, and suspenders." Then I realised I was doing the same thing I always did with my tighter t-shirts but reversed (when I decided I had to wear a proper bra with the tight tee's and not a sports bra). So I thought, "No, if I combine the boobs with the bow-tie, it'll be gender-bendery splendour!" Loved that phrase as soon as I thought it.

No reason for posting the terrible room-mirror pictures of my outfit, but is that going to stop me? No.

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Had to stop again because platonic-partner called with a favour for me to do in the house and then her cat wanted cuddles. Now fellow-job-hunting-housemate is up in my room for some hanging out while most of the household is at the Valentine's Rocky Horror Show. (: (It costs money, first of all, but I've also seen it so many times that at this point I only really want to go if it's super special.)

Kayla was watching me type this up and as I was typing she went crazy about the speed. It was adorable. She just exclaimed, "I mean, I type fast, but that's like unicorn-prancing-through-the-forest fast!"

Best. Compliment. Ever.

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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    mellow Mellow.
Rainbow || Rainbow northern lights.

(no subject)

I was just tidying up my room (as I always am, few surfaces that it has) and listening to music (as I always do while tidying) when I heard a song come on that reminded me of Amelia Bones, or more precisely her possible family.

I have quite a bit of music on my iPod and some of it I don't know well, since I put on music by artists I liked even when I didn't know all the songs; sometimes I listen just to become familiar with new songs and artists.

'Amelia' by Lucy Kaplansky came on. The lyrics are pretty self-explanatory: a woman of another generation who gave herself up in marriage and a child (who is likely her grand-daughter) who doesn't. I've listened a few times now and I keep thinking of this Amelia as Amelia Bones' grand-mother and namesake, and also being--in a way--what taught Amelia the value of discovering herself, being true that self, keeping herself, and owning the world around her so it couldn't own her.

It's just a nice song, really, sad as it is; it has that hope in the child at the end as well, which is very true to life.

Here it is:

Yeeeaaaaah I did acoustic women. No hidin' that these days.

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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    okay Interested.
HP || Witchly sign.

(no subject)

Apparently Valentine's Day means putting up with a lot of posts from me again!

I'm close to being caught up with this last hoggywartyxmas party with just the 14th, 15th, and 16th days to go. I've been compiling a rec list as I've read. I realised today, though, that there is another one that I wanted to post separately:

  • A Year to Forget || PG?, 9.5k, Rosmerta/OFC || Rosmerta is under Imperius and her partner is finding it difficult to deal with her behaviour.

  • This can be a difficult story to read but is very well worth it. It’s uncomfortable in knowing that in this case we all hope the OFC sticks it out—because we understand the reason behind Rosmerta’s behaviour and how/when it will end—but these changes are not rare in other circumstances, either, without the ‘cure’ that we know Rosmerta and her partner will experience. We can root for them here because we know; otherwise we would be looking at it much the way other characters in this story are and it would be terribly difficult and uncomfortable, which is how it mostly is for these situations. We can be glad in this one that it is not and that, as one might imagine, the ending is strong and good but still requires the time for healing. This story touches on dark waters that run deep and dangerous.

    I loved the characterisation and the setting. We get to slip into the magical world with new eyes, much as we did with Harry Potter in the first book, but these eyes likely fit most of us much better than those of an 11-year-old boy.

    I've been wanting to read this story for a long while. featherxquill once gave a prompt to a post I'd written rec'ing a piece of Rosmerta/Pomona art (04/10/2010): Well, I've always wondered how Rosmerta coped in the wake of HBP, what with being imperiused into having a hand in Dumbledore's death. I imagine an earthy, understanding woman like Pomona would be the perfect person to help her deal with that. It's been on my years for the years since, although I haven't written it (that I still have it in my inbox is proof that I intended to come back to it). Though I knew in the end it didn't really have to be Pomona; I just wanted to experience the story surrounding this time in Rosmerta's life.

    When I read the header for the story I went, "Yes! This is what I wanted to read!" It does a wondrous job of giving just that story, that experience, that I was waiting for.

    Now I'm afraid I'll likely never get to that Rosmerta/Pomona prompt because the subject matter is dealt with so well in this story, A Year to Forget!

    You all can get back to your lovey-dovey days now. ;D

    [Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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      impressed Impressed.
    HP || Irma || Slytherin

    (no subject)

    For the past few years I've been trying to keep better tabs on what I read, with goodreads and keeping a list on LJ every year (which has been pretty fun!). Not too long ago I also made the LJ kikiweeki to put some of my thoughts about different things that I read (and possibly someday on things I watch); the name comes from my current quest to read at least an average of one thing a week, so 52 things a year.

    There are a few things there that I put up recently and thought I'd share here.

    [personal profile] tetleythesecond rec'd it out of her love for Selma Lagerlöf and I picked it up when I saw my library had it. I'll admit many of the thoughts are self-centred memories, but that's what tends to crop up in my brain when I'm reading memoirs of people's youthful years. (:

    Another rec from Tetley because my library had it. I really loved this little book even when it broke my heart (as of course I knew it would, given the topic).

    For something completely different:

    This one is unlike the others in that it isn't a 'tab and talk' situation. The book had some excellent artwork that reminded me of the posts some flisties (*coughTetleycough*) made while decorating homes, especially posts about artwork. I went through the book and picked out the pieces that I quite liked and those that could potentially find themselves around my house, if I had a house to decorate instead of a Cupboard Over the Stairs. It's NSFW but some of the art is wonderful and worth the look!

    So that's that.I've got some other books that I've read to go through. It takes me a while, but I love going through a book to pages I've noted and seeing what touched me as I read--and what continues to affect me during a second scan-through.

    Back to going through my inbox, watching Turtles Can Fly, and enjoying my Anna Howard Shaw Day!

    [Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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      geeky Geeky.
    Rainbow || Rainbow northern lights.

    (no subject)

    Today I volunteered with the Rhode Islanders United for Marriage phone banking because one of my old Rowe campers asked me to come along a few times and I realised, with a sigh, that it was the sort of thing I should do to be a Good Role Model. (He did not tell me it would be a gung-ho phone-banking event.)

    Totally. Not. My. Thing.

    Now, you may have picked up through this journal my inclination for volunteering. You may have even noticed that it sometimes has to do with attractive women. You may even be right.

    I'm glad to know, at least, that there is a line. There was a cute gay girl there and still I was able to give a firm, "No, I won't be coming back for more phone banking, but I'll try to make it to the canvassing if my hip feels up to it." Look! It stated with a "no"! Canvassing I already know I like, so that's fine.

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    I told them I'd be interested in data entry if they wanted the help some time, plus the canvassing if I can make it. I do still want to help, of course, but with my preferred skill set and without making myself miserable. :D

    Now it's Valentine's Day. I did have a committee meeting, but it was cancelled. I'm going to head off for a bit of at-home volunteer work for my congregation and enjoy some sleep. I wonder if I'll leave the house tomorrow; I could go couple-counting...

    Can't switch back to old posting format any more and my icon randomiser doesn't show me what it randomises to until I post. I have a sad.

    [Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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    Kiwi || Nalocia with ukulele.

    (no subject)

    I have a very important question. It has filled my mind many a time and many a day. It has haunted me since I took my first hesitant steps into womanhood.


    There is just no right adjustment for you, is there, my stringy friends? You just keep firmly demanding that I let everything roll off my shoulders. Did you ask me what I wanted? Maybe I WANT some things no my shoulders; maybe I want YOU on my shoulders! Goodness knows strapless would be a disaster.

    Now, I know I ask a lot of you, little friends, but you have one job...

    I apologise, flisties, for how much you have to put up with my basoomas and my poor over-worked over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders on occasion. I had even managed to meet a few of you when they were a little less prominent. Ah well.

    I'm afraid I have no regrets despite my apologies. If I can't get this off my chest here (*snerk*) then I'll end up exploding some time in real life, as has happened before, with something like, "FOR THE LOVE ALL THAT IS GOOD AND USEFUL IN THIS WORLD, SHIRT TWINS, GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER AND STOP HARASSING MY BRA! AND BRA, DO YOUR JOB OR I'LL PUT YOU ON THE DAMN CAT!" (Foofy, the three-legged cat, was unimpressed with my explosion. However she is much like the Honey Badger in that she would not give a shit about the bra.)

    Also, the other problem I had today?

    Find 11 other great Busty Girl Comics here. I've had every single one of those problems. The actual website for the comic is here.

    It's a glamorous life, I tell you.

    P.S. There's a reeeaaaally cute librarian at the library. I may have come home with a book (Pray the Gay Away about gays in the Bible Belt) and three films ('Real Women Have Curves', 'TransAmerica' and 'Turtles Can Fly'). Also may have offered to volunteer there doing whatever they need, including helping kids with homework. *ahem.* Pretty women may be a weakness of mine. Maybe.

    [Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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      shocked Shocked.