rushthatspeaks: (Default)
[personal profile] rushthatspeaks
Okay, I think-- I think-- that I have managed to get everyone onto the filter-to-talk-about-the-baby who asked to be (and if you asked to be, it's fine, I'm putting you on it). So if you asked, you should be able to see an entry marked as being on that filter if you look at my journal as a homepage. However, it's possible I may have missed something somewhere, so please let me know if that has happened.

Liv kindly gave me the letter L in one of those various-things-starting-with-a-letter memes. I am trying to get into the habit of posting more often and not fretting so much about what, so it was helpful.

Something I hate: Lettuce, subheading iceberg. Other kinds of lettuce are fine, but iceberg-- look, for many years I didn't think it had a taste at all, and I wondered why one would eat something that is so close to being water when one could just go get an actual glass of water. Then, lo these years ago, I made a great mistake in the making of meringue, in that I wanted a lemon meringue and so I put actual lemon juice into the meringue. Right in there with the egg whites. You would think this would then fail to stabilize, but something about the cream-of-tartar or the atmospheric conditions was perfect and the meringue baked into gorgeously fluffy little piles. I went around handing them to people, and everyone I handed one to would bite into it, and then look extremely confused and say "Lettuce?!?" That is how I discovered that iceberg lettuce does in fact have a distinct flavor, and I don't like it, and it can be duplicated by doing something completely appalling to perfectly innocent confectionery. We had to throw the rest of the batch out, because of course no one wanted more than that one bite. Butter lettuce, I am down for, or Romaine, but as for iceberg, I say it isn't spinach and I say the hell with it.

Something I love: L is for Le Guin and Lewis and L'Engle, but that's obvious if you know me, so something different: Le Tigre's 2004 album This Island has been on repeat on my headphones for a while recently. Not sure what I like best from it, the formal perfection of the title track, the in-your-face joke's-on-the-world cock-rocktechno of 'Nanny Nanny Boo Boo', the way 'New Kicks' sounds as though it were taped live at the sort of protest I've spent time at for Black Lives Matter while also being a snapshot of some crucial things about the Bush II years, or the joyous butch awareness and sensibility of 'Viz'. I loved Bikini Kill in the late nineties with the heartswollen teenage love of somebody scrawling slogans on school binders with a Wite-Out pen, but if Kathleen Hanna had to change bands, adding a pop sensibility, a bigger dose of humor, and growing a ridiculously catchy set of hooks was definitely the way to go about doing it. "All night/We've been talking to liars/And it's all right!/Just not in the style of tigers."

Somewhere I've been: Louisiana, which we drove through on the way out of Texas, cats in the back of the car taking turns yowling so they could stretch their voices longer. When we reached the comfortable and homey B&B in New Orleans, the cats said that this was acceptable and they would live here now, thank you, and in some surprise I found myself agreeing with them. The thousand little details of whether I like a place are based in part on things like the density of greenery and the indigenous food culture, both of which are good in Louisiana (or at least the bits of it we saw), but the main things for me are how much sky there is and the gestalt of the area's smell. The GPS-enabled drive through back-roads and over swamp bridges was a chance to stop being agoraphobic and annoyed at my olfactory nerves (cf. Texas) and just appreciate the countryside. Wouldn't want to live there, but I'd be delighted to go back.

Somewhere I'd like to go: Lichtenstein. If I were given a huge sum of money and absolutely forbidden to spend it on improving-the-world purposes, I would strongly consider renting out the nation of Lichtenstein for a significant wedding anniversary, because that is a thing that you can do if you can afford the rental fee. But, even lacking said amount of money, I'd love to see the place, and it sounds like a good amount to look at in one day. It's not very high on my list of places I really want to go (just the highest beginning with L), but I can imagine it being a charming detour from Germany or Austria or Switzerland or bumming around on the train.

Someone I know: Lucien, our traditionally-alpha cat, is about three feet from me on the couch as I type this. He came down with diabetes earlier in the year and it's not as under control as we'd like, yet, so at the moment he is both the smaller and the weaker cat, eight pounds on a build that doesn't begin to look full-fleshed until he weighs about twelve, and yes, it is going to his brother Rafe's head. Head as in Rafe kicking Lucien in the, at all hours. Sigh. Have not yet gotten to the point of shoving the feline equivalent of Pedialyte down Lucien's throat, but if he loses any more weight at all I am going to, as while I am of course very fond of Rafe he has never learned how to sit in my lap while I knit, and it's nice to have somebody around I can trust to behave while they do that. (Mind you, knitting is one thing, but purling, apparently, is when it is time for the kitty to treat the work-in-progress as a harpsichord. Let's not even talk about Fair Isle.)

A film I like: Labyrinth is eternal, of course, though I haven't been able to watch it yet since Bowie's death, but my most recent L-film is Laura, which I had heard of for many years as the craziest of the American film noirs and which keeps turning up in books about queer subtext in cinema. I was delighted to discover that despite having read a great deal about the movie in said books about queer subtext, everyone had been so kind as to keep the genuinely surprising plot unspoiled for me for the last fifty-odd years, and so it was a movie I didn't see coming. Laura is stylized almost past the point of psychological realism, but not quite; witty almost to the point of screwball comedy, but not quite; cast so oddly it might as well be miscast (Vincent Price as a shyster Southern gentleman of the old school? the hell? and this is Vincent Price in his early thirties, too), but not quite. (Price's accent is so terribly maladroit that it circles back around into being a brilliant impersonation of what his character thinks people want him to sound like.) Clifton Webb narrates from somewhere between Bertie Wooster, Oscar Wilde, and Samuel Beckett, everyone but everyone is a plausible suspect for at least thirty seconds, the rules of police work appear to have gone cheerfully out the window, and Gene Tierney is a revelation as the title character, a woman of such strength of agency that I'm pretty sure her mere existence shatters the standard rules of narrative. Comfort-film dark hilarity for the ages.

Ask for letters if you want them.

Date: 2016-03-18 04:42 am (UTC)
yhlee: icosahedron (d20) (d20 (credit: bag_fu on LJ))
From: [personal profile] yhlee
I'd like a letter, please!

Date: 2016-03-18 12:15 pm (UTC)
heavenscalyx: (Default)
From: [personal profile] heavenscalyx
I'd love a letter.

Also, if veterinary insulin isn't controlling Lucien's diabetes, ask the vet about human insulin. One of our cats was resistant to insulin (probable tiny brain tumor that also caused her paws and jaw to grow a bit) and stabilized on a dose of human insulin that was twice what my mother was taking immediately after her 'beetus diagnosis.

Date: 2016-03-18 12:20 pm (UTC)
wordweaverlynn: (Default)
From: [personal profile] wordweaverlynn
I'd love a letter. Also to be on the baby filter, if I haven't already asked. I've been AFK.

Date: 2016-03-18 01:27 pm (UTC)
sixbeforelunch: image of a cat peaking out from behind a row of books, no text (cat and book)
From: [personal profile] sixbeforelunch
I didn't ask last post, but I would like to be on the baby filter.

Date: 2016-03-18 02:06 pm (UTC)
grrlpup: (Default)
From: [personal profile] grrlpup
I got an access-granted notification from DW, but do not see the filtered post.

I love that your cat discerns between knit and purl.

Date: 2016-03-18 02:14 pm (UTC)
jjhunter: Drawing of human J.J. in red and brown inks with steampunk goggle glasses (red J.J. inked)
From: [personal profile] jjhunter
Thank you very much for adding me! I'd be interested in your thoughts on various things starting with the letter 'J'.

OT, if other prompts are welcome - do you have a favorite dictionary? Are you familiar with James Somers' essay 'You’re probably using the wrong dictionary'? (I have some quibbles with the title assertion, but I remain fascinated with the underlying questions of what dictionaries can be and the language of definitions as a site of contention and ownership. What might a Webster's 2013 look like? Or a Webster-style AAVE dictionary project drawing on literature and lyrics and twitter et al.? Is the existence of a dedicated dictionary the deciding difference between 'dialect' and Language?)

Date: 2016-03-18 04:35 pm (UTC)
boxofdelights: (Default)
From: [personal profile] boxofdelights
I missed the opt-in, but I would like to be on the filter.

Date: 2016-03-18 10:33 pm (UTC)
green_knight: (Default)
From: [personal profile] green_knight
Could I have a letter, please?

Date: 2016-03-19 12:11 am (UTC)
eeyorerin: A Lego minifigure of a person wearing a penguin suit. (Default)
From: [personal profile] eeyorerin
There is a paste called Nutri-Cal that you can put on a cat's food to increase the calorie content. We use it for underweight cats at the shelter where I volunteer. They seem to enjoy it, but some of them are starving because they are strays and not because they are sick.
Edited Date: 2016-03-19 12:11 am (UTC)

Date: 2016-03-19 03:16 pm (UTC)
skygiants: Koizumi Kyoko from Twentieth Century Boys making her signature SHOCKED AND HORRIFIED face (wtf is this)
From: [personal profile] skygiants
ICEBERG LETTUCE, WHY. I don't understand it! just drink a glass of water without the annoying stringy molecules in between!

unfortunately I now associate most or all lettuce with iceberg, so even though there's probably lettuce I would like perfectly well, my default reaction to lettuce and thus most traditional salads is a similarly resounding "WHY??????"

...apparently I have a lot of pent-up rage about this relatively innocuous vegetable.

Date: 2016-03-18 05:08 am (UTC)
sovay: (Cho Hakkai: intelligence)
From: [personal profile] sovay
Comfort-film dark hilarity for the ages.


Ask for letters if you want them.

I am bad at memes these days—I have owed someone a five-characters-beginning-with-the-letter-R since 2010—but sure.

Date: 2016-03-18 06:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hunh. Did I ask to be on the filter-about-the-baby? I have no idea. If not, please to correct this ridiculous lapse, because of course I want to be...

Date: 2016-03-18 08:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I really enjoyed reading this, so I will happily take a letter, though the resulting entry probably won't surface until after I get back from Israel.

I particularly liked your criteria for places to live. I have often felt disconcerted by the unwelcome gestalt smell of a place, and definitely have felt alienated by a lack of sky and greenery.

Date: 2016-03-18 11:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Our lives are so immensely much better now that we can regularly get a head of butter lettuce still in dirt, basically still mostly alive. It lasts reasonably in the fridge that way--it doesn't immediately feel sad and lonely and limp--so we never buy iceberg any more. I love spinach, and arugula and basically every other salad green, but not every salad is a salad for aggressively dark and bitter salad greens, so being able to have the balance of butter lettuce for that kind of salad is so nice.

Date: 2016-03-18 05:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Something I love: your writing.

I'll take a letter, though I won't be able to play until after Vericon.


Date: 2016-03-18 07:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sure, I'll have a letter!

Date: 2016-03-23 04:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I used to work with a Laura who was named after that movie. IIRC, when she was finally old enough to watch it, it was so different from what she expected that she was all, wait, what? I think, but am no longer sure, that she was expecting a much more straightforward Pretty Lady Romantic Heroine. Not that Gene Tierney isn't a pretty lady, but you know what I mean.

Date: 2016-03-23 05:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
L.M. Montgomery has a recipe in her journals for a lemon bread pudding, which calls for lemon juice in the meringue and lemon zest in the pudding part. I made it a couple of times, and decided after the first time that the zest and the lemon juice were the wrong way around (i.e., the juice ought to be in the pudding and the zest in the meringue). The first pudding's meringue came out a little limp from the lemon juice, but didn't taste of anything to me except meringue-iness and lemon -- certainly not lettuce. But then I rather like iceberg lettuce in the right context, mostly for texture. (My grandmother used to eat peanut butter and iceberg sandwiches, saying that the lettuce kept the peanut butter from sticking to her dentures.)


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