pretty distractions

Nov. 25th, 2014 10:09 am
glass_icarus: (daniel liu hips)
[personal profile] glass_icarus
1. Eye candy for the day: 16 Stunning Photos That Shatter [White US] Society’s Stereotypes About Asian Men

The article itself I could take or leave, but the pictures! *___* Probably my favorites are #1 and #6 (the underwear photos, while attractive, cracked me up. Possibly I have strange reactions!).

2. Still plenty of space left in the daily December meme! Topic suggestions welcome! :)

And now it's back to work for me, gotta clear my plate as much as possible before Thanksgiving.

(no subject)

Nov. 25th, 2014 03:10 pm
marina: (Default)
[personal profile] marina
A shitty thing happened at work today, as it sometimes does. A coworker made some derogatory comments about Russians in a meeting with a bunch of people in the department, including myself.

As sometimes happens, a different coworker later came up to me and said "Are you all right? I'm so sorry that happened. I was on the verge of saying something to [coworker who was speaking], but I didn't, but I wanted to apologize to you on behalf of all of us." These are quiet, private conversations, that of course go nowhere in terms of precluding such behavior in the future. In fact often the coworkers who express this sentiment are doing so more because they hate the offensive coworker, for whatever reason, that week, than out of genuine solidarity or sympathy, as evidenced by the fact that these "sympathetic" coworkers themselves occasionally make disparaging comments about Russians, mock Russian accents or Russian food, etc. (Last week we had a whole discussion at lunch about how gross Russian food was, obviously initiated by people who were not me, but I was present. It was great.)

It makes me think about a lot of things.

About how used to it I am, at this point. About how it's taken slightly less than 3 years of working in a place where I'm the only Russian speaker to be used to this. Where I'm no longer even offended or angry, just tired and scared. Where I just want to ignore everything I can, forget everything I can, pretend these people don't hold these opinions, pretend, in the most fantastical scenario, that they don't even know I'm Russian. That I can hide it from them somehow, make them forget. How well I've learned to navigate the battle of being visibly, outspokenly Russian with being prepared for the backlash. I know people will mock me, I know they won't understand my perspective, I know they think my parents are trash and their accents, their food, their fashion sense are horrible.

At least so far - so far, praise be - I haven't succumbed to actually wishing I wasn't Russian. I've always hoped that spending my adolescence in a 98% Russian speaking environment, among my fellow immigrants, has inoculated me against that, at least. A lot of my upbringing, both at home and at school, growing up, talked about people who were, essentially, "ethnic traitors". People who would change their names, change their clothes, pretend not to speak Russian, avoided Russian things at all costs, etc. These people - kids and adults - were despicable, pitiable, pathetic. My mother used to tell me, when I was 7, about my native-born classmates, who used to bully the fuck out of me, including stealing and destroying my things, beating me up and spitting on me: "don't try to fool people that you're one of them. They'll always know that you're not." I had asked to change my name to something less Russian sounding than Marina. Perhaps Miriam. My mother had laughed, a sort of kind, sad smile. Like she didn't know how to explain to me that nothing I did would ever be enough.

I used to hate myself a lot as a kid, for a lot of reasons, most of which had to do with immigration. When I was older, my hatred for people who tried to "pass" as non-Russian bordered on the irrational. It was not uncommon among my peers. There was literally nothing more pathetic, to us, than trying to suck up to the people who bullied you in grade school, who thought your heritage was garbage, who mocked your parents. It was too sad and disgusting to contemplate.

It took a long time, to learn to forgive. To accept that there are no good choices under duress. To learn not to judge my fellow immigrants for whatever they had to do to survive.

The other thing instances like this make me think about is - how privileged I am, and how utterly horrible it is that this is my experience considering how privileged I am. I'm not even on the outskirts of marginalized identities in Israel. Mine is a relatively light case.

It makes me sick and terrified to live in this country, drives home how incredibly, unspeakably worse it must be for others, who like me work and live here, in this, our most progressive city.

Lastly, it makes me think about how uncomfortable I am, still, in spaces occupied by the wealthy, educated, "liberal" elites of this country.

I, and most people from my community, come from areas of poverty, lack of access to resources, lack of education, working class neighborhoods. These were the people I grew up with, the people I was surrounded by. Ethnic tensions in these places looked entirely different. I grew up unused to the subtlety, the insidious nature of discrimination and prejudice when it's something one can't openly mention in polite company.

Among my coworkers, the educated liberals will only say derogatory things about Russians when caught off guard. When they're stressed or in the middle of a poorly thought out joke or are responding to a statement they didn't realize would touch on Russianness. They're not necessarily repentant, afterwards, but they feel as though they've transgressed.

Where I grew up, when people didn't like Russians they were very vocal about it. Everything about their manner, their speech, their attitude let you know they thought you were beneath them. No one was shy about using slurs or saying what they really thought. The refinement always makes me uneasy. Everything feels like hypocrisy. It's like I have to assume beforehand that everyone has these prejudices, or else I'll let myself get attached and only discover it at crunch time, when there's stress or drama or something major happens. It worries me, sets me on edge, being around people who think they're above ugly prejudice or discrimination. That they're too smart, too "good", too educated, too peace loving, too kind to fall prey to it.

I know I'm certainly not above prejudice, I know it's something I struggle with, in areas where it doesn't affect me and even in some areas where it does. I try to keep that in mind. Understanding how oppression works doesn't make you immune to perpetuating it. The air you breathe is always tinged with it, and the work of undoing its effects is continuous.

Anyway, it just always makes me think how odd that is, and how not-unusual. To work so hard to get to the "top", to live and work in the centers of social and material wealth, only to feel, after all your formal education, like you miss the open hostility and discrimination of the neighborhoods you worked so hard to escape.

Native-born Israelis: please consider whether your comments are appropriate on a post like this, and please don't speak for me or for groups you don't belong you re: what it's like living in Israel. In general, but especially here.

(no subject)

Nov. 24th, 2014 10:21 pm
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
I don't remember what I did on Saturday. I'm pretty sure I did SOMETHING.

Yesterday I went to Riverside Plaza with Nalo. Almost missed her getting in touch with me because I wasn't checking email, and my phone was deactivated due to prepaid stuff. Anyway, we both got this 5-piece sewing rolling case which is currently on sale for $34.99, when it normally costs $124.99.

Then we went to see The Book Of Life! It was very stereotypical in many ways, but it was also incredibly satisfying, and there were many a few turns which I half-expected but still hit me hard, like Manolo's bullfighting scene. I cried about a half-dozen times. Something about scenes where the protagonist is backed by family (birth or chosen) is really moving. I also liked how Joaquin and Xibalba, despite being antagonists, are not really that unlikable.

I'm at 47k words and feeling really bleh over the Ferguson stuff.

HH and I are trying to catch up on Sleepy Hollow. We're at Ep 6 now, and tomorrow we'll try to finish the rest.

I've finally set up a piece of scrap cloth onto my new embroidery hoop. Right now working on the vines. I'm doing a backstitch on those first, before moving onto a split stitch for the smaller flowers. I'm hoping to also do a satin stitch on the small flowers, and then some long-short stitches for the big flowers.

I made a meat lasagna tonight! It was a bit too salty because I decided to add in corned beef last minute (it was sad and sitting in my fridge) but it is otherwise really delicious, and I am pleased with myself.

My neighbour also popped by to say hello and do the get-to-know-you thing. He's also big into cooking, and he thawed the wrong thing and offered me some pork sandwich. So I have one now!

This poem by Bogi Takacs is pretty trippy and neat.
marina: (direction...?)
[personal profile] marina
1. Yesterday one of my coworkers celebrated her birthday, and as she does every year, she brought metric fucktons of food. I'm talking at least 5 big pots + two vegetable crates of food, for about 10 people. I ate so much I didn't eat anything else for the rest of the day. There were several types of kubbeh (including kubbeh matfuniya), mafroum, homemade couscous, chicken with olives, roasted eggplant with homemade tahini, of course, and just... so much delicious food.

2. In related news, I am trying to get back into cooking. I basically stopped cooking since I lost my apartment in September. First there was the madness of the 3 weeks before my trip, moving out, packing, dealing with everything, then I was abroad for nearly a month, then I came back and have been staying with [personal profile] roga where I... keep feeling unable to cook, for reasons that are silly and I need to get over. The primary thing is that I feel like this is temporary, it's just a place I'm staying in for a little while, so there's no point investing in getting to know the stove, buying supplies for adventurous new stuff I want to try, buying spices and sauces. This is silly because no matter how long it takes me to find a place, whether it's a day or a week or whatever, it's been long enough that I need to start cooking again, and supplies don't cost that much.

The other thing is that, of course, I don't feel comfortable cooking in someone else's space, especially when I'm there temporarily, especially when that someone isn't hugely into cooking, especially when the food I'd be making, due to differences in taste and things like my lactose intolerance, would not be something the other person would likely eat. It just feels... rude and indulgent somehow. But the point where it's winter and I can't cook soup because of the aforementioned reasons, is the point at which I feel like I need to get over it and make it work somehow.

So, I am getting back into cooking, by which I mean slowly expanding my very basic skills. Current challenge: some kind of soup with rice noodles. I don't like tomatoes, can't use dairy and meat is way too much work at this stage, so finding recipes has been a challenge! Currently leaning towards buying a bunch of mushrooms and seeing where that gets me. The main problem here is that I've never made soup and I don't want to use stock (for like a billion irrational reasons) and can't make my own (because that would basically mean making soup to begin with) so either I manage to fight through this or it defeats me and I have to re-examine my views on stock. WISH ME LUCK, GUYS. So far I treat all cooking like salad making, so it's basically like chop up a bunch of stuff, throw it in a container, wait for it to be ready. This does not always work when heat is involved! So, we shall see.

(I think, seeing it all laid out like this, that my biggest unconscious fear has been a completely failed cooking experiment. It's one thing to fail utterly in your own kitchen, but to fail utterly in someone else's, with the dirty dishes and the time you're taking up and the end result being unusable... somehow that just feels wrong. And you can't really try new cooking things unless you're willing to fail miserably, so.)

3. I AM PROBABLY GOING TO AMSTERDAM IN APRIL. No plane tickets yet, so. But if you are in Amsterdam or know a fangirl who is - let us meet up! I'll be traveling with IRL geeky friends, but I'm sure I'll have time for lunch/dinner/whatever with internet people.

4. I continue to be an utter failure as a human being. No apartment, no master's degree, no plans for the future (see previous), no progress on original writing. \\\\o//// HURRAY.

The biggest thing right now that I know I need to dig myself out of is the grad school thing. I'm done with all my classes, either I submit to the PTB and forego a thesis and just do a few more classes next semester, or I press on and do a thesis (which is what I want). To do the latter I need to find an adviser, to find an adviser I need to (1) research all the professors at my faculty + adjacent faculties (after the rejection from the head of my program AHAHAHA I am basically terrified of this the way cats are terrified of water) (2) conduct original research into my proposed area of study to see what other research is already out there (basically, what if anything has been written on the connection between pornography and fan fiction). THIS I am putting off because it's shit tons of work and it makes me nervous and so I ~never have time~.

So, I guess I can say I've made progress because I at least know what I need to do? IDK if I'm setting the bar that low for myself yet? Basically miserable failure of a human being. Bonus: this has become so stressful that it's disrupting my sleep schedule and impacting my self esteem. FUN TIMES.

5. I suppose the one thing I am not currently 100% failing is yuletide. And by that I mean that I actually have an idea for a story! All thanks to [personal profile] roga, without whom I'd still be ripping my hair out. If I can get over my general anxiety of I am a failure in all things long enough to spend an hour or so writing, I might even bang out something like a first draft.

(no subject)

Nov. 21st, 2014 08:55 pm
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
- This morning I found a calico kitty nomming on stuff I left outside. I've seen her before, and while she doesn't look incredibly underfed (unlike patchy kitty last year who was so thin I could see her ribcage) she ate with a gusto that I don't think she would have if she had an owner. She seems really skittish, although I think with time I could get her to trust me. We'll see.

- I wrote 2000 words this afternoon during the write-in.

- PK and I went to JoAnn's and I fretted about stuff. There's a 5-piece sewing roller which I'm tempted to get, and it'll be on sale in a couple of days, about $80 cheaper than it usually is. I bought some embroidery thread and an inordinate number of beads. Also some cheap fabric, which I think would make a great bra for Nisi when I finally figure out the pattern for her bra. I also went to the kids' craft aisle and got some alphabet beads. I want to make a necklace that says "FEMINAZGUL" because I think that will be amusing. Uhm. I used a $50 off for a >$150 purchse coupon. I suppose I really should stop doing that and use the stuff I buy.

- Dinner tonight was leftover chicken meat, mixed with alfredo sauce and cheese, and dinner rolls I forgot I had. I attempted some baked potatoes but apparently I am a failure and forgot to soak them first so they are pretty much ruined now. I'll do better next time.

GD & Taeyang's Good Boy

Nov. 21st, 2014 09:10 pm
colorblue: (Default)
[personal profile] colorblue
[personal profile] akilanajmah linked me to this. It is the most addictive thing.

do ALL the things

Nov. 21st, 2014 12:38 pm
glass_icarus: (katie coffee)
[personal profile] glass_icarus
Scrambling again despite all efforts to the contrary, sigh! So annoyed that I'm once again waging war on ETS for GRE scores (old ones, but since I submitted them for the graduate program that I graduated from... >:E).

In other news, I still have a lot of dates open for the daily December meme. Keep the topics coming, please! I Also, thanks for your love meme comments, I really appreciated the boost today. ♥
lnhammer: colored smoke on a white background - caption "softly and suddenly vanished away" (disappearance)
[personal profile] lnhammer posting in [community profile] poetry
A Valediction: Of Weeping

                Let me pour forth
My tears before thy face, whilst I stay here,
For thy face coins them, and thy stamp they bear,
And by this mintage they are something worth.
                For thus they be
                Pregnant of thee;
Fruits of much grief they are, emblems of more;
When a tear falls, that thou fall'st which it bore;
So thou and I are nothing then, when on a divers shore.

                On a round ball
A workman, that hath copies by, can lay
An Europe, Afric, and an Asia,
And quickly make that, which was nothing, all.
                So doth each tear,
                Which thee doth wear,
A globe, yea world, by that impression grow,
Till thy tears mix'd with mine do overflow
This world, by waters sent from thee, my heaven dissolvèd so.

                O! more than moon,
Draw not up seas to drown me in thy sphere;
Weep me not dead, in thine arms, but forbear
To teach the sea, what it may do too soon;
                Let not the wind
                Example find
To do me more harm than it purposeth:
Since thou and I sigh one another's breath,
Whoe'er sighs most is cruellest, and hastes the other's death.

(no subject)

Nov. 21st, 2014 12:29 am
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
- I was really tired afternoon for some reason, and had to head home in the afternoon to nap.

- PK and I tried to go to the GradBash but there were too many people (the perils of arriving late) so we went to have pizza at some other place instead. She's working on her UCR application, and I'm working on an application and a prospectus. Afterwards I went back to campus.

- I think I've finished my fellowship application. Waffling on adding a couple more things... I'm still 150 words short of the 1000-word limit.

- I also started putting together the SEAsteampunk manuscript. Life just hit me so hard it had to be waylaid for a while but I began to re-read everything again I'm getting excited about it ALL OVER AGAIN LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT A GREAT ANTHO THIS IS GOING TO BE

- Tomorrow PK and I will go to JoAnn's in the afternoon. Hopefully over the weekend Nalo will be free to go watch THE BOOK OF LIFE and I can pass her some worm poop like I promised. (I went through the container again, and found even more eggs and baby worms BABY WORMS ARE THE CUTEST OMG)

(no subject)

Nov. 20th, 2014 11:55 pm
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
So I hear that an email containing this open letter to a particular professor at my last university calling him out on his shit especially after his response to the disruption of an event at which an oil company executive was invited to start a series on women's success.

The email is from riseup.net which as far as I can tell is some sort of off-grid email system for anarchists to avoid being traced.

*leans forward in deep interest because the cyberpunk story I've been working on runs along these lines*

(Seriously though I've taken a course with Dr. Giroux and wow, let's just say only a certain kind of person continues to admire him after prolonged exposure.)

The Sun Rising - John Donne

Nov. 20th, 2014 07:56 am
lnhammer: lo-fi photo of a tall, thin man - caption: "some guy" (Default)
[personal profile] lnhammer posting in [community profile] poetry
The Sun Rising

        Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
        Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
        Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
        Late school-boys and sour prentices,
    Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
    Call country ants to harvest offices;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

        Thy beams so reverend, and strong
        Why shouldst thou think?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long.
        If her eyes have not blinded thine,
        Look, and to-morrow late tell me,
    Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine
    Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear, "All here in one bed lay."

        She's all states, and all princes I;
        Nothing else is;
Princes do but play us; compared to this,
All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
        Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,
        In that the world's contracted thus;
    Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
    To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.

Wadjda (2012)

Nov. 20th, 2014 10:49 am
marina: (Default)
[personal profile] marina
So, last night I watched Wadjda, the film Saudi Arabia is submitting to the Oscars this year (for the first time ever). I've wanted to watch it since it was originally released, when I watched an interview with the director, Haifaa Al-Mansour, the first woman to direct a feature film in Saudi Arabia. I'm very happy it's now been around long enough (screened in Israeli cinemas last year!) that I can relatively easily find a copy of it online with subtitles.

I loved this movie a LOT and I recommend it to everyone. The very simple summary is that it's about a 10 year old girl growing up in the suburbs of Riyadh and her quest to buy a bicycle. She faces adversity in the form of reluctant shopkeepers, lack of funds, and parents and teachers who disapprove of a girl riding a bike. It's a movie that's lighthearted and funny and at the same time heavy and serious, forever fluctuating between the two. It's incredibly well made, with the script, the acting, the cinematography all being top notch. (I particularly loved Reem Abdullah as Wadjda's mother and Ahd Kamel as the school principal, they were both mesmerizing every moment they were on screen.)

It's difficult for me to talk at length about movies I loved, especially without spoilers. I will say that I loved Wadjda's personality, her unrelenting ambition and entrepreneurial spirit, her stubbornness. Part of the reason Wadjda wants a bike is so she can race her friend Adbullah and win, and I will say the friendship between these two 10 year olds won me over in ways I didn't expect. At first I thought the movie would be subtly shipping them, and I was disappointed we had to have a het romance subplot in a movie about 10 year olds, but instead it just showed them being genuine friends, supporting each other, knowing each other deeply and appreciating each other fully.

more meta thoughts, not spoilery )

(no subject)

Nov. 19th, 2014 11:56 pm
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
Yesterday I wrote some more words on my statement.

Today, I administered a make-up exam and hung out with students briefly. I added more words to my statement.

I saw this call for submissions for Canadian steampunk and I may have gotten a little overexcited.

More words for NaNo. First big plot crisis! Yay!
lnhammer: lo-fi photo of a tall, thin man - caption: "some guy" (Default)
[personal profile] lnhammer posting in [community profile] poetry
To Mr. Christopher Brooke: The Storm

From the Island Voyage with the Earl of Essex

Thou which art I—’tis nothing to be so—
Thou which art still thyself, by these shalt know
Part of our passage; and a hand or eye
By Hilliard drawn is worth a history
By a worse painter made; and, without pride,
When by thy judgment they are dignified,
My lines are such. ’Tis the pre-eminence
Of friendship only to impute excellence.
England, to whom we owe what we be and have,
Sad that her sons did seek a foreign grave
—For Fate’s or Fortune’s drifts none can soothsay;
Honour and misery have one face, and way—
From out her pregnant entrails sigh’d a wind,
Which at th’ air’s middle marble room did find
Such strong resistance, that itself it threw
Downward again; and so when it did view
How in the port our fleet dear time did leese,
Withering like prisoners, which lie but for fees,
Mildly it kiss’d our sails, and fresh and sweet
—As to a stomach starved, whose insides meet,
Meat comes—it came; and swole our sails, when we
So joy’d, as Sarah her swelling joy’d to see.
But ’twas but so kind as our countrymen,
Which bring friends one day’s way, and leave them then.
Then like two mighty kings, which dwelling far
Asunder, meet against a third to war,
The south and west winds join’d, and, as they blew,
Waves like a rolling trench before them threw.
Sooner than you read this line, did the gale,
Like shot, not fear’d till felt, our sails assail;
And what at first was call’d a gust, the same
Hath now a storm’s, anon a tempest’s name.
Jonas, I pity thee, and curse those men
Who, when the storm raged most, did wake thee then.
Sleep is pain’s easiest salve, and doth fulfil
All offices of death, except to kill.
But when I waked, I saw that I saw not;
I, and the sun, which should teach me, had forgot
East, west, day, night; and I could only say,
If th’ world had lasted, now it had been day.
Thousands our noises were, yet we ’mongst all
Could none by his right name, but thunder, call.
Lightning was all our light, and it rain’d more
Than if the sun had drunk the sea before.
Some coffin’d in their cabins lie, equally
Grieved that they are not dead, and yet must die;
And as sin-burden’d souls from grave will creep
At the last day, some forth their cabins peep,
And trembling ask, “What news?” and do hear so
As jealous husbands, what they would not know.
Some sitting on the hatches would seem there
With hideous gazing to fear away fear.
Then note they the ship’s sicknesses, the mast
Shaked with an ague, and the hold and waist
With a salt dropsy clogg’d, and all our tacklings
Snapping, like too-too-high-stretch’d treble strings.
And from our tatter’d sails rags drop down so,
As from one hang’d in chains a year ago.
Even our ordnance, placed for our defence,
Strives to break loose, and ’scape away from thence.
Pumping hath tired our men, and what’s the gain?
Seas into seas thrown, we suck in again;
Hearing hath deaf’d our sailors, and if they
Knew how to hear, there’s none knows what to say.
Compared to these storms, death is but a qualm,
Hell somewhat lightsome, the Bermudas calm.
Darkness, light’s eldest brother, his birthright
Claims o’er the world, and to heaven hath chasèd light.
All things are one, and that one none can be,
Since all forms uniform deformity
Doth cover; so that we, except God say
Another Fiat, shall have no more day.
So violent, yet long, these furies be,
That though thine absence starve me, I wish not thee.


(Donne also wrote a sequel letter, The Calm. For the Islands Voyage, see Wikipedia.)

(no subject)

Nov. 18th, 2014 09:00 pm
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
Ugh. I just saw STORMDANCER in a friend's syllabus on international steampunk

Can we please stop legitimizing white Orientalist fantasies esp when they're done blithely with no care as to the larger ramifications of appropriations?

help a writer/get a story?

Nov. 18th, 2014 09:59 pm
marina: (friends!)
[personal profile] marina
So, I am really, really not pleased with where my writing is right now. I mean I'm not pleased with anything - the fact that I can't find an apartment, the fact that I keep hiding my head in the sand about my grad school disaster situation, the fact that winter is fucking coming and both of the above are still true - but there's also writing, which I'm not doing at all, which I do not like.

I miss writing, I need to do it, it's fun. I have two big fiction things I need to be working on: yuletide, and my original porn novel. I haven't written anything for either, and both feel stalled and unapproachable and I need to get some writing done while I'm not doing those two just to stay in some kind of practice.

So, I'm not doing the December posting meme, but I'd like to do the thing where I post a short story every day (under a 1000 words, say).

So, I'd like to collect 10 prompts, and write stuff for them.

This is super scary (hence, kind of exciting) for me because I am always terrible with prompts and terrible with writing, and I want to post these with minimal editing to get over my "not this isn't good enough!" thing, so. I realize no one cares about original stories under 1000 words, so it would be more about you doing me a favor, but.

If you have a prompt - gimme? I might write it, or it might jar me into writing yuletide and/or original porn, so you know, I'd be grateful either way.

Prompts can be anything (except specific fanfic prompts): porn, objects, quotes, scenarios, colors. It can be something random you thought of or elements from a story you'd really enjoy reading, or a photo, or whatever.
lnhammer: a cartoonish figure dancing, seen from behind - caption "La!" (frivolity)
[personal profile] lnhammer posting in [community profile] poetry
Elegy: To His Mistress Going to Bed

Come, madam, come, all rest my powers defy;
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe ofttimes, having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing, though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glittering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopp'd there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed-time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th' hill's shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet, and show
The hairy diadems which on you do grow.
Off with your hose and shoes; then softly tread
In this love's hallow'd temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Revealed to men; thou, angel, bring'st with thee
A heaven-like Mahomet's paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite;
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
    Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O, my America, my Newfoundland,
My kingdom, safest when with one man mann'd,
My mine of precious stones, my empery;
How am I blest in thus discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then, where my hand is set, my soul shall be.
    Full nakedness!  All joys are due to thee;
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be
To taste whole joys.   Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's ball cast in men's views;
That, when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul might court that, not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus array'd.
Themselves are only mystic books, which we
—Whom their imputed grace will dignify—
Must see reveal'd.   Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to thy midwife show
Thyself; cast all, yea, this white linen hence;
There is no penance due to innocence :
    To teach thee, I am naked first; why then,
What needst thou have more covering than a man?

(no subject)

Nov. 17th, 2014 10:20 pm
jhameia: ME! (Default)
[personal profile] jhameia
Today I actually managed to work. It's nice to feel a lift in the mental fog. I even got out to listen to the Belltower and as I listened, I wrote one more page of my prospectus. I don't think I'm even going to hit a dozen pages (most proposals are, I think, fifteen) but even if I hit ten pages, I think they will be ten good pages.

I even got to the NNWM write-in, and wrote 1700 words.

I finished grading. I had a very good chat with my supervising prof. She even bought my books =) I also had a chat with a lecturer of German in the department as well about Star Trek because she saw my Blak Trek sweater.

I had put the crockpot to cook a small chicken all day and it was good with rice. I didn't finish the meat but I may mix it in with the minced beef when I get around to making lasagna.

My dad called and we had a good long talk, mostly about earthworms. Which was pretty exciting stuff. My dad's a composter himself, but a very lazy one. He has a kind of terra preta sort of system in the backyard trough where he dumps organic stuff. But we are both very conscientious about separating our garbage like that. I told him about what it's like to do vermicomposting and he sounds interested and recalled seeing an article in the local newspaper about someone who exports worms. Turns out there IS a worm farm company in Port Klang, although they don't seem to sell just worms--you have to buy the whole kit and caboodle, worms and box and worm food, which seems exceedingly silly to me.

Tomorrow I hope to get through the talk in the afternoon and maybe write some more NNWM words, and finally begin writing my application for the fellowship; it's due next week, eep.

(no subject)

Nov. 17th, 2014 06:42 pm

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