A roundup of sorts.
Firstly, if the text on this blog is too small for you to read easily, hold ctrl and + or - until it is better. This seems to me far easier than the horrors of tweaking the code.
Now then:
1. There is a skeeling in the house! Dad's sketches, and work jumper; the front door key, my epic kirby grip stash, and one of the telephones, have just walked. I kinda hope they're all together somewhere, contributing to some fantastical machine.
2. Settled down to watch, at long last, City of Vice - the TV show about the Bow Street Runners. Despite being set in the 1750s, and starring Iain Glen, it is not the greatest thing ever, as I'd hoped. Instead sort-of frustrating, proving that there's little separating police procedurals, no matter how elegantly dressed. It's obviously cheap, and trying hard to be edgy - and we could forgive both, but it's padded out with lazy scriptwriting. If I never have to see another Dead Whore (TM), it'll be too soon - fictionally speaking, that's all prostitutes are there for. To be killed, unpleasantly. We Know You're In London, We Know You're In The Past, but what right have they to invent serial killing some 150 years early? Like all movies with a historical basis, I'd like some solid information on exactly how accurate it is. I may not bother seeing a second episode. I don't know. I am sure it won't turn into the show I want it to be, but maybe it's worth a try.
3. I love Hamlet. And found this marvellous blog, which makes me rather wish I had got there first. It makes me think, though: I have still never seen a great Ophelia. Not one I've entirely bought. I believe she is an impossible role to play - no backstory, no development, easy to be too cute, easy to reinvent badly as kickass.
4. I've started considering charging a nominal amount for charity Tarot readings. Why not? It's fun, and for a good cause. I've been practicing on people around me - mostly TV shows, it must be said - but Friend 2 has accused me of doing some dubious stuff like attempting to read her reactions, which intrigued me because it wasn't conscious. With that in mind, I sat down and read the book on cold reading, and was astonished to discover how many of their techniques I already use, just on reflex. Including the Skeptic's Gambit: "No, I Don't Really Believe This, But It's Useful For Psychological Investigation, Like A Rorschach Test". That was the one that really stood out, but a lot of their examples are almost verbatim things I've said.
I can't work out whether to change my game or not. There are two ways this can go. I can become a "proper Tarot reader" of sorts, and I'd want to deliberately not cold read in the name of accuracy and justice. Or I can become a Mentalist/Derren Brown type of performer, in which case I'd want to cold read the hell out of people. It'd always be for fun, of course, just a party trick - but I feel I should pick one or the other and stick with it. I suppose I'll go for the former, as you can't cold read friends - that destroys the point. But after this investigation, I am far more concerned about the ethics full stop, even in a fun context.
5. I have now bought several items of costume for That Blake Costume I'm Not Making. And thinking about the reboot has made me think, why not just do a gender-swap version? And making a sign reading "Starring Katie Sackhoff as Blake" - Katie Sackhoff being the gal who kickstarted this Edgy Reboot With Male Characters Recast As Women thing in Battlestar Galactica. It'd be geekily funny too. With that in mind, fashion advisors, here is a two-page gallery of options - which costume should I go for? Which has the greatest chance of actually suiting me?
6. Token cooing, skip this if you're really bored. You probably should be, I've been doing this for a year now - but it's OK, I've only got four days of it left. Then it's just aftermath, recovery and almost certainly moving on to something else, just as irritating...but frankly, I can't believe I saw what I just saw, I can't believe it's taken quite this long and I can't believe I can still be shocked. There was a point about a season back when I experienced a kind of darkness overdose. They hit us with a very cruel triple whammy that almost bounced off, I'd got so resigned. There are a whole bunch of blog updates, I know, expressing the same sentiment, and several episodes I remember feeling strongly "I know this show began with a betrayal, massacre, legal shenanigans, mental conditioning, all implied twice over, plus the destruction of three kids, but somehow this has just got worse".
In short, I am having a fantastic time - not sarcastic, totally genuine. Obsessions always feel like the One True Obsession, but I have been proud and honoured to be a B7 fan. As you're probably aware from my almost constant wittering. And long may it remain, however bad it has yet to get, because I'm very upset, but also overjoyed that it has stayed of such high quality, and committed to it's unique tone that it can still regularly do this to me. With that in mind, we came up with a few new theories:
Consequently, I have at long last abandoned Fantasie Impromtu as something I will never be able to play, to see if it deflates my newfound competitive streak. Fantasie Impromptu has been part of my life for such a long time, and unlike most of the things I try playing, it's actually harder than it sounds. I can basically do both hands individually, with breaks, and know in time I could play them both at once, but it's my own body defeating me. By the end of the first page - the first 20 seconds - my left hand (which hasn't had a break) cramps and loses it's dexterity; by halfway through the second page - some 10 seconds later -my right hand follows suit.
Giving up on it feels very strange indeed, because it's the first time I've admitted a limitation on that machine. I taught myself to play on Firth of Fifth and Chopin Nocturnes, songs which no beginner should touch. But I learnt them stubbornly, one note at a time, and kept at it, and after a while I could do 26-note runs and trills. Made me feel quite invincible, and informed my style ever since: "What do you mean I can't play that? Let me wade in and bash!" So I've been trying hard and regularly at Impromptu, to see if I can't get my wrist strength up. As if it would make a difference, as if I don't spend somewhere between one and four hours on the piano a day, as if I wasn't an archer-turned-poimistress. And what I discovered was actually, if I keep trying hard enough - my wrist just gives up and stings, and I'm sure, eventually sprains.
I feel like I've killed my own child.
This too will pass.
8. Finally, to end on a positive note, I'm taking part in a swap which merely requires participants to read their partners profile, and leave a comment. Quick, but cute. Anyway, one noted:
Firstly, if the text on this blog is too small for you to read easily, hold ctrl and + or - until it is better. This seems to me far easier than the horrors of tweaking the code.
Now then:
1. There is a skeeling in the house! Dad's sketches, and work jumper; the front door key, my epic kirby grip stash, and one of the telephones, have just walked. I kinda hope they're all together somewhere, contributing to some fantastical machine.
2. Settled down to watch, at long last, City of Vice - the TV show about the Bow Street Runners. Despite being set in the 1750s, and starring Iain Glen, it is not the greatest thing ever, as I'd hoped. Instead sort-of frustrating, proving that there's little separating police procedurals, no matter how elegantly dressed. It's obviously cheap, and trying hard to be edgy - and we could forgive both, but it's padded out with lazy scriptwriting. If I never have to see another Dead Whore (TM), it'll be too soon - fictionally speaking, that's all prostitutes are there for. To be killed, unpleasantly. We Know You're In London, We Know You're In The Past, but what right have they to invent serial killing some 150 years early? Like all movies with a historical basis, I'd like some solid information on exactly how accurate it is. I may not bother seeing a second episode. I don't know. I am sure it won't turn into the show I want it to be, but maybe it's worth a try.
3. I love Hamlet. And found this marvellous blog, which makes me rather wish I had got there first. It makes me think, though: I have still never seen a great Ophelia. Not one I've entirely bought. I believe she is an impossible role to play - no backstory, no development, easy to be too cute, easy to reinvent badly as kickass.
4. I've started considering charging a nominal amount for charity Tarot readings. Why not? It's fun, and for a good cause. I've been practicing on people around me - mostly TV shows, it must be said - but Friend 2 has accused me of doing some dubious stuff like attempting to read her reactions, which intrigued me because it wasn't conscious. With that in mind, I sat down and read the book on cold reading, and was astonished to discover how many of their techniques I already use, just on reflex. Including the Skeptic's Gambit: "No, I Don't Really Believe This, But It's Useful For Psychological Investigation, Like A Rorschach Test". That was the one that really stood out, but a lot of their examples are almost verbatim things I've said.
I can't work out whether to change my game or not. There are two ways this can go. I can become a "proper Tarot reader" of sorts, and I'd want to deliberately not cold read in the name of accuracy and justice. Or I can become a Mentalist/Derren Brown type of performer, in which case I'd want to cold read the hell out of people. It'd always be for fun, of course, just a party trick - but I feel I should pick one or the other and stick with it. I suppose I'll go for the former, as you can't cold read friends - that destroys the point. But after this investigation, I am far more concerned about the ethics full stop, even in a fun context.
5. I have now bought several items of costume for That Blake Costume I'm Not Making. And thinking about the reboot has made me think, why not just do a gender-swap version? And making a sign reading "Starring Katie Sackhoff as Blake" - Katie Sackhoff being the gal who kickstarted this Edgy Reboot With Male Characters Recast As Women thing in Battlestar Galactica. It'd be geekily funny too. With that in mind, fashion advisors, here is a two-page gallery of options - which costume should I go for? Which has the greatest chance of actually suiting me?
6. Token cooing, skip this if you're really bored. You probably should be, I've been doing this for a year now - but it's OK, I've only got four days of it left. Then it's just aftermath, recovery and almost certainly moving on to something else, just as irritating...but frankly, I can't believe I saw what I just saw, I can't believe it's taken quite this long and I can't believe I can still be shocked. There was a point about a season back when I experienced a kind of darkness overdose. They hit us with a very cruel triple whammy that almost bounced off, I'd got so resigned. There are a whole bunch of blog updates, I know, expressing the same sentiment, and several episodes I remember feeling strongly "I know this show began with a betrayal, massacre, legal shenanigans, mental conditioning, all implied twice over, plus the destruction of three kids, but somehow this has just got worse".
In short, I am having a fantastic time - not sarcastic, totally genuine. Obsessions always feel like the One True Obsession, but I have been proud and honoured to be a B7 fan. As you're probably aware from my almost constant wittering. And long may it remain, however bad it has yet to get, because I'm very upset, but also overjoyed that it has stayed of such high quality, and committed to it's unique tone that it can still regularly do this to me. With that in mind, we came up with a few new theories:
16. The Final Girl, possiby Vila7. I have lost my love for the piano. I'm - a bit floored, to be honest. My method has always been to play for my own delight, damn practice, damn everything else. But I have recently become aware of a) not being very good at all, and b) that this matters to me. That playing and being good make me happy. I'm trying harder, getting nowhere, and it's begun to be stressful.
17. Blake (who is fine) meets up with Avon again, and they pick off where they left off getting on very well, especially because of the experiences they've had in one anothers absence, and go off into the sunset to fight the baddies together. Variation on Glimmer Of Hope from last week, but I really really like this one and feel it's within the bounds of possibility. Even had this one in a dream last night.
Likely variation:
18. Blake (who is fine) meets up with Avon again, and they pick off where they left off squabbling and tearing chunks out of one another's morality, especially because of the experiences they've had in one anothers absence which has left them completely incompatable. Hilarity ensues, and it's worse than usual.
Consequently, I have at long last abandoned Fantasie Impromtu as something I will never be able to play, to see if it deflates my newfound competitive streak. Fantasie Impromptu has been part of my life for such a long time, and unlike most of the things I try playing, it's actually harder than it sounds. I can basically do both hands individually, with breaks, and know in time I could play them both at once, but it's my own body defeating me. By the end of the first page - the first 20 seconds - my left hand (which hasn't had a break) cramps and loses it's dexterity; by halfway through the second page - some 10 seconds later -my right hand follows suit.
Giving up on it feels very strange indeed, because it's the first time I've admitted a limitation on that machine. I taught myself to play on Firth of Fifth and Chopin Nocturnes, songs which no beginner should touch. But I learnt them stubbornly, one note at a time, and kept at it, and after a while I could do 26-note runs and trills. Made me feel quite invincible, and informed my style ever since: "What do you mean I can't play that? Let me wade in and bash!" So I've been trying hard and regularly at Impromptu, to see if I can't get my wrist strength up. As if it would make a difference, as if I don't spend somewhere between one and four hours on the piano a day, as if I wasn't an archer-turned-poimistress. And what I discovered was actually, if I keep trying hard enough - my wrist just gives up and stings, and I'm sure, eventually sprains.
I feel like I've killed my own child.
This too will pass.
8. Finally, to end on a positive note, I'm taking part in a swap which merely requires participants to read their partners profile, and leave a comment. Quick, but cute. Anyway, one noted:
"I really enjoyed reading about your likes and you seems so interested in everything. That you love life and just enjoys the little things. "It's fascinating how you come across on paper, and the weird thing is reading it written down momentarily made it true. I felt like I became this person. Or maybe I always have been.
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