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Monday, Jul. 25th | 08:16 am

Had a lovely dinner at Evvia last night. (thanks for kid care elahadrun)

Their lamb souvlaki with barley pilavi is wonderful, light and really hearty at the same time and perfectly seasoned. There's this great lemon-bay leaf-oregano thing going on in it.

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dorf fortress

Sunday, Jul. 24th | 07:14 pm


So, like...

To me this reads like a tragedy. Not, like, a deeply moving one - the dude IS getting paid by strangers to live in his own filth and compulsively code his dream/nightmare/white whale game more or less indefinitely - but a tragedy nonetheless.

Here is a socially maladapted kid, who grew up in an environment that didn't support the development of his social skills, who's now a shut-in that does nothing but drink soda, code, and make crayon drawings. Who makes devastatingly saddening comments about things like "the novelty of community."


of people

interacting together and sharing resources and human capital


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2 much dinner

Thursday, Jul. 14th | 11:01 pm

dev i know where we can go hang out

i feel like a total fathole because after i ate too much dinner i ate ice cream

now i am spewing like a high school beauty queen but what i am vomiting is guilty words instead of dessert

maybe i should throw away all the sugar in the house
all the butter
all the milk
all the bacon so smoky
all the cheese so white and sharp
all the meat so laden with its dewy fats
the ice cream so cold and soft against the tongue

this lewd, pornographic affair we have with food is part of why it's so hard to eat well. how do you tell of the caress of a celery stick? the seductive curves of a carrot? you cannot - these vegetables are virgins, nuns, straight-sided shriveled old maids.

let us instead think of the thrilling perfume of basil, or mint's clever sharpness. let us imagine lemongrass whispering to us, stripping away its layers to reveal the fragrance hiding beneath. let us taste watermelon bursting sweet and cool, dripping down our chins.

let the fatholes eat cake.

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Black Tree

Thursday, Jul. 14th | 10:46 pm

There is a tree at the center of the world. It is black so we call it Black Tree.

It is as tall as tall things are - no thing is taller than it, no thing is higher than it. Among its branches are hung the stars. See? Once I climbed it and brought one down, and here it is.

it is a web of silver wires and cold white light and inside there is something strange and moving

Don't tell anyone, because someday the raven might want her right eye back and she might be upset about it.

The tree's roots spread out all over the world; you know it because you have seen them. Those mountains, the ones with the proud, straight backs and their ridges white with snow? Those are roots. There is one climbing up the wall, that one thin as a mouse's tail. You'll never be lost when you know how to follow Black Tree's roots.

They say if you dig deep enough into the great mountain-roots you will find a hollowness there and a dark place where there is water -a web of secret seas that enfolds the entire world. They say that strange things live there in the root-rivers - long pale people with white, blinded eyes, toothless serpents under the waters, spider-bats that sing at night, and other things too terrible to tell.

I am telling you this because you must go. Find Black Tree at the center of the world, climb it and cut one of its branches. Carve a black flute and play a song the nightingales have never heard before. Cut its bark and take a drop of amber to make yourself a mask, a mask of the face you wish to have. Of its leaves, make a pair of wings so that you may fly.

Then and only then, leap off the tree and sail to the lands of the dead. The guardians at the black gates will welcome you as an emissary of the Maker, and they will not cut off your legs as they do with ghosts.

Then and only then, if your deception succeeds, will you be able to escape with your beloved. Set fire to your flute and mask and wings, and step into the smoke. It will carry you to place where the guardians' axes cannot reach.

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The Tale of the Angel and the Fire

Wednesday, Jul. 13th | 10:08 am

 The angel Mirab stands at the salt lake's shore. He is a tattered ruin.

Mirab's legs are encased in armor so old and rusted he cannot move them. In his right hand he holds a bowl of fire; in his left, a little knife, curved and cruel like a crow's beak. His hair is ragged, chopped off in uneven pieces; his wings, half-plucked. Strips of his skin are missing. Several of his fingers have been bitten off.

Mirab's duty is to feed the fire.

Once, people came to Mirab, gave him cedar, beeswax, and books of songs. They gave him bright-burning tallow and smoky pine. In those times Mirab was a beacon, his wings like copper mirrors bathing the lake in sunlight and fire.

Now no one comes with fuel for Mirab, so he burns his hair and feathers and fingers and skin.

Someday there will be no more angel left to burn, and the fire will go out. What will become of the world?

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first impressions

Tuesday, Jul. 12th | 09:53 am

 It's different here.

The temperature changes really sharply in the evenings and the mornings - with darkness comes a breath of cool air. It's nice.

The plants here are different. Motley. There are pines shoulder-to-shoulder with banana trees and stands of yucca. What's strangest about them though is their posture, which speaks of openness and exposure. They are profligate with sunshine - where the plants in New England grow in clumps and copses and dense clusters huddling against one another, here even the conifers open their arms and spread their fingers to the sun. Everything is lacy and transparent here and the branches are festooned with flowers.


The farmer's market is incredible. I could buy live herbs here that I've NEVER SEEN IN PERSON BEFORE. I could bring home an orange tree.

Moving makes me tense like nothing else and I feel like I don't know any of the people that I know because everything is different here

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Making systems

Thursday, Jul. 7th | 01:09 am

One thing I do sometimes with my brain is make systems...it's just what I do when my mind is at rest, like a screensaver

here's one of them

The Acanthese Heraldic Tradition

(I guess this was for a defunct game I might have played in?)

Unlike European heraldry of the world we know, Acanthese heraldry is fundamentally an art that is seen up-close, and as a result it has very different rules.

The Parts of a Heraldic Design
A fully realized Acanthese heraldic design/system, which I'll call a motif, is most often depicted in condensed form as a design on a flag. The flag has the following components:
  • Staff
  • Finial
  • Scarf or Tassel
  • Bearer (a person or creature carrying the flag)
  • Silk (the body of the flag; the silk is further subdivided...)
    • Ground
    • Emblem
    • Border
    • Fringe
Staff and Finial
The staff and finial collectively represent the precise type of gorget and crown the bearer is entitled to wear and carry as symbols of their authority. The staff may be wooden (for non-royals), silver (for royal descendants not in the line of succession) or gold (for reigning sovereigns and their direct heirs). The finial may be a jewelled sphere (for any aristocrat, the color matches the ground of the silk), a spearhead (for battle leaders), or a wreath of foliage (for priests and princesses; the type of foliage varies by specific cult or heritage). The finial may be supported by a small charge, according to the bearer's family tradition. Foreign dignitaries receive a hollow ring as a finial.

Scarf or Tassel
The scarf or tassel is a length of fabric or cord that emerges from the finial's base and wraps loosely around the staff. It is generally in a secondary color of the silk, and lined with a metal. Maritime families and priests use tassels; other armigers use scarves.

The Bearer
Many armigers don't have a bearer. A few have several. The bearer is one of the least formal elements of Acanthese heraldic tradition. For instance, the bearer traditionally used by the royal family is a raccoon, with one hand holding the staff and the other stuck in a beehive.

The Silk
The design of the silk is very different from the design of an escutcheon. The first thing a foreigner will notice about Acanthese heraldry is the heavy emphasis on texture and pattern.

Patterns and the Ground
A great many patterns are recognized by the formal tradition. The commonest are the narrow stripe (alternating, equal-width bands), the checkerboard, and the fawn-dapple (closely spaced, but disordered, hollow rings, based on a traditional knot-dyed pattern). More complex patterns such as "dappled waves" (waves drawn with lines of dapples in such a way as to create even color while suggesting line) or "stripes of wheat" (sheaves of grain arranged in lines) are permitted.

The color of a patterned ground is described either as "color atop color" or "color damask" depending on whether the pattern element is a distinct hue compared against the base, or a lightened version thereof. A ground can also be "color dipped in color", meaning that it fades from one color at the top to the second at the bottom. The second color is invariably darker, reflecting the system's basis in describing real fabrics.
Lastly, a plain color can be "satin color," "velvet color," or "linsey color" depending on whether it is glossy, flat, or crinkly.

The Emblem
An emblem is traditionally a floral, geometric, or animal design, stylized and arranged in the center of the flag. Repetition and arrangement are highly salient elements in this tradition. There are a variety of terms for common arrangements, such as a line abreast, a column, five in a cross, in the manner of a clock, one great in the center surrounded by attendants, etc.

Emblematic designs are generally a single color, heraldic "proper" meaning colored in a particular conventional way, or counterchanged against the pattern (but not the dip) beneath. A design can also be "washed" (bleached out of the ground so that the pattern shows), "beaded" (depicted as a pattern of dots), "beaded of shape" (beaded with dots of a particular shape), "drawn" (outlined against the ground but unfilled), or "blackened" (a particular coloring, a silhouette with no interior detail, applicable only to designs that would otherwise be detailed).

It is common for first daughters to display their mother's emblem at a smaller size just below their own, and likewise for first sons and their father's emblems.

The Border
The border is another fabric that may be patterned independently of the ground, although it is never dappled. It may itself be bordered of a specific color. The border can bear emblems; if it does the emblem pattern appears at the flag's cardinal points, or "repeated" filling the border side-by-side as space allows.

The Fringe
The royal family may bear gold or silver fringes. Aristocrats who have living heirs may bear fringes that have a color of their emblem.

Customs of Display
Most armigers own a curtain that duplicates their heraldic flag; this is traditionally displayed behind the throne or seat of office. At formal occasions, one may wear garments interpreting the flag. This is the most common way that heraldic arms are borne.

It is also expected that one flies a flag of one's heraldry, and below it on the same staff, smaller flags displaying the arms of all surviving ancestors, the youngest closest to the top and thereafter ascending in age.

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(no subject)

Tuesday, Jun. 28th | 11:14 am

the kids were doing yoga this morning when i woke up and now they are coloring on big paper (:

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Friday, Jun. 10th | 07:36 am

 had a dream about being bitten by a dog...and then joining the community dog training club???

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great way to start the day

Tuesday, May. 31st | 08:21 am

 slipped and twisted my ankle while taking out the trash

gwen almost missed the bus ):

i had weird upsetting dreams (not unusual to be honest)

nirali's terrible twos are in full swing


we have a ton of yummy food

packing is proceeding apace

Sherlock is a great show

baby is waving at the garbage truck

gwen did a great job picking up in her room this morning

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