Mar. 26th, 2012 04:36 pm
hmpf: (lom snark)
My "stick to canon" tendencies are also a large part of why Sam's canonically stated but never actually properly seen relationships in 2006 had such importance to me, instead of the seen in detail, but canonically stated to be imaginary, relationships he had in 1973.

I wonder what that says about me. Is it part of some kind of dysfunction, this "deprivileging" of emotional reality?

Though maybe canon in this case just fit my predilections and prejudices best? In reading and writing, I'm into alienation, after all (among other things) and a Sam who is yearning to return to the present is more alienated than a Sam who's just happy in 1973 and feels really at home there. So I needed Sam to care about 2006, I needed those relationships to matter to him, and thus they were real to me. I've been known to ignore parts of canon in other fandoms - in my personal HL universe, for example, the silly Ahriman stuff never happened.

So maybe I only closely stick to canon in shows where canon is inherently compatible with my reading kinks. (I would have liked a happy ending for Sam in LoM, but it would probably have killed my urge to write in the fandom, because where can you go after that, if angst is what you're after? :D)

... I should go and do something important now.
hmpf: (Default)
There's still something I utterly don't get about slash in LoM fandom - and it's not the sex, although that still doesn't do anything for me. But I 'get' why the sex might be interesting for people.

Read more... )
hmpf: (Default)
There's always freeganism.

(I am a wuss.)
hmpf: (Default)
Apparently my iron levels are so low as to almost warrant transfusions right now. My doctor tells me that with an iron level like that, she wouldn't be able to get out of bed, let alone work efficiently, either. She's amazed I went hiking like this.

This may explain a lot. :D

Still going to see a psychiatrist/neurologist tomorrow, though. Can't hurt; and I'm pretty sure I have some... issues there, too.


In the category "stress factors I really didn't need": a colleague just reserved all the books that I had our library order for my seminar for a seminar of her own. All of them. Did I mention I haven't even read them yet, nor prepared the first few sessions of my seminar? How am I gonna do that if I have to give all the books (the books the library only ordered because *I* asked them to buy them!) to her now? How can I prepare without books?

Oh, and my seminar starts in less than two weeks. In other words, I'm fucked. Kinda.

Could copy the books before I hand them over, I suppose. But that would take hours - hours that I really need for *reading* them, and deciding what I'm going to do with them in the seminar etc.

Could buy them all, too. But, eeek. So expensive. Also, who knows when they would actually arrive.
hmpf: (Default)
Which really is only partly an embarrassingly teen-girl like crush on Thom Yorke. Because I suppose that, in a blog devoted to a large degree to my fannish obsessions, this 'phase' deserves at least a minimum of elucidation, even if it doesn't fit the usual pattern. Or rather, especially because it doesn't fit the usual pattern.

I've loved Radiohead for a long time. OK Computer was one of the first albums that really showed me what music I could like could sound like - if that makes any sense. I'm glad I encountered it at an age when I had finally begun to work free of some really strange ideas about music that I had internalised in my teenage years. Basically, at an age when most kids begin to discover music, I felt music didn't belong to me (although it attracted me very strongly). Music - most of it, anyway - was for the cool kids, and as I was clearly not one of the cool kids, it could never be mine.

Read more... )
hmpf: (angsty)
Recently, I seem to be even better than usual at pissing people off in vague and bizarre ways. Generally without meaning to. And, to be honest, I'm not even entirely sure if I'm pissing people off so much as perhaps rather causing a kind of "errrrrrrr you're a FREAK, get away from me" type of reaction. I dunno. Anyway, I've had heaps of odd situations recently that I don't quite know how to interpret.

I'd like a neat little rulebook for how to be a socially functional human being. I don't have the instinct.
hmpf: (Default)
it makes me want to learn an instrument. (Guitar, bass, or drums. Oddly, preferably the latter, but that's not really very practical, is it?)

I can't really afford another creative hobby; it would only dilute my efforts in all the other areas I'm already not quite active enough in. And also, the kind of music I'd like to make would be with a band, and I imagine it would a) be very difficult to find one, and b) it would take years to get good enough to even consider trying to find one. If it's even possible to get good at all, when you start learning in your thirties.

The reasonable thing to do would probably be to try and find a choir again. But my voice is all fucked up from nearly twenty years' lack of practice... (I'm told it used to be quite good - but that was when I was a teenager.)

Then again, a choir isn't really what I want.

Hmm. Individual singing lessons, maybe? To see if there's still something to salvage?
hmpf: (angsty)

(Found via a comment on boingboing.)

Minor differences:

I manage the grocery shopping okay.
I manage to feed myself okay, even well, most of the time. (This can break down under pressure, though.)
I manage to keep the flat clean - if not my room. (I've never *tried* to clean the flat every day, though; neither have my flatmates. We do it once a week.)
I don't procrastinate as extremely, or at least haven't been, much, in the past three years or so. What I've done instead, in the past three years, was to focus on one or two big responsibilities at a time (finishing uni, looking for a job, doing my internships) and let everything else go completely to hell. Which, of course, was almost as bad as procrastinating, because it meant entire (crucial!) areas of my life (e.g. everything involving money or bureaucracy, as well as all social contact) would lie barren for months or years.


Nov. 17th, 2010 12:46 pm
hmpf: (Default)
Bevor ich H4 beantragen kann, muss ich das bißchen Geld, das ich noch habe, in die Form einer Rentenversicherung oder so bringen - es muss dauerhaft (unangreifbar) festgelegt sein, sonst ist es nicht geschützt und muss bis auf einen Freibetrag von ca. 5800 Euro aufgebraucht werden. Das Ganze muss schnell geschehen, weil ich sowieso nicht mehr weit über dieser Grenze bin - es geht hier also lediglich darum, ein paar Tausend Euro zu "retten". Da ich gleichzeitig von diesen paar Tausend Euro leben muss, bis ich den Antrag stellen kann, erledigt sich das Problem also quasi von selbst, wenn ich es nicht jetzt "sofort" löse.

Problem: wie identifiziere ich ganz schnell (=innerhalb der nächsten Tage) eine "gute" Rentenversicherung/Lebensversicherung? Ich habe von der Materie Null Ahnung, alles, was ich online lese, verwirrt mich bisher nur noch mehr. Ich habe keine kompetenten Menschen zu diesem Thema im Bekanntenkreis - zumindest nicht, dass ich es wüßte.

Dazu kommt noch das Problem, dass ich ja, mangels Einkommen, nicht regelmäßig einzahlen kann. Kann man dann überhaupt eine Rentenversicherung abschließen?

Daher jetzt meine hilflose Frage in die Runde: Kennt hier jemand einen *wirklich* vertrauenswürdigen Versicherungsberater, idealerweise im Rhein-Main-Gebiet?
hmpf: (Default)
I've been getting up early in the morning to go to work (even if it wasn't paid work), etc. - and falling asleep at fairly 'normal' times. Now, barely a week into proper unemployed life, I'm already severely insomniac again, and completely unable to get up in the morning. In fact, I've been unable to visit the appropriate agencies because I haven't been able to make myself get up at a time when they're open (which is usually between 8 and 12:30 or so in the morning). It's not the depression often attributed to the unemployed - in fact, I kind of dread finding a job more than being unemployed at the moment, although I do know a job is necessary. My sense of self-worth and so on are not tied to having a job. It's quite simply an inability to submit to a normal diurnal rhythm without some *strong* outside force. As soon as the responsibility for my sleeping pattern lies only with me, with no pressure from an employer to get me out of bed, it decays.

This wouldn't be so bad if it really were the case that I can do everything I want and need to do in a given day at night just as well as in the morning. But of course that isn't true. I want to make jewellery, and that's noisy - so that's something I can only do during normal 'business hours'. Same goes, of course, for all the necessary bureaucratic stuff of daily life, especially unemployed life. There's even the fact that I *like* mornings, I like daylight, and I want to go for walks in the park and so on - and I won't be getting much daylight if I only get up in the afternoon, now that it's autumn. It gets dark early, here.

This is exasperating. I don't know what to do. Can somebody please force me out of bed at, say, 9:30 a.m.? That would be a more than humane time to get up by anyone's standards, yet I can't seem to manage it (and I can't seem to go to sleep before 6 a.m.)
hmpf: (Default)
... to my Flickr account. They're all from the north of Germany, where I spent the last three months and where my family comes from. I don't feel particularly patriotic about Germany as a whole, but the north, and Schleswig-Holstein in particular, is the part of it that I love most. Although I didn't grow up there it's the place that's always felt like home to me. So, if you've never been there and don't know what it looks like, have a look.

Set "Northern Germany"

Set "Hamburg" - very incomplete

Set "Cafés etc." - not really on topic here, but includes a sneak preview of fic-in-the-process-of-creation! ;-)
hmpf: (angsty)
... and ready to dig myself out from under this mountain of guilt etc.

Unfortunately, my laptop just died. *Before* I could transfer three months worth of data back from it to my main computer, of course. That includes all my unanswered mail of the last three months, a significant source of guilt.

hmpf: (Default)
my finding a job is myself.

It kind of follows that I'd need to find a job that basically *consists of* being myself. Sadly, being myself is not a skill that's very sought-after on the job market.
hmpf: (Default)
Perfectly ruined day.

(Not just a ruined day, really, but let's not go into that.)
hmpf: (Default)
I've had a somewhat calmer week due to a lack of job offers. Then, a couple days ago, a whole bunch cropped up, all with the same due date, so I'm all busy now again. To prepare for one of the applications, I'm going to travel to the small town where my dad was born, tomorrow, to visit a museum there. This will be the first time I go there on my own since my grandparents died. Maybe I'll find time to visit the cemetery, too. I'm not sure I could find their graves on my own, though.

Thanks to the period of relative calm, I've managed to clear a little bit of space in my mind for fic writing. I've made some - modest - progress on the nuclear fic. Oddly, the latest part of the fic seems to be all about vegetables. I wish I could say I'll keep writing now, but with all the applications I have to send in the next few days, it's looking doubtful.

Which reminds me again of how much it sucks that to get a chance to survive financially, you have to basically stop doing everything you really want to do. Even after all these years of growing up and getting used to "the way things are", that still feels morally wrong to me. Maybe I'm not quite done growing up yet, after all.

And the other thing I still haven't figured out how to integrate into my life properly is, of course, activism. Getting a paying job in this field is as unlikely as ever, so I have to find a way to do it "on the side". And I've recently read a lot and thought a lot and come once more to the conclusion that there is no really effective course of action short of a complete remodelling of my life, and I still don't know how to even begin that.

Currently reading: Octavia Butler: Parable of the Talents. Just started, so I can't say much yet, except that this - along with Parable of the Sower, the first part of the series - really feels like it's the future we're heading towards.
hmpf: (Default)
This, even more than my acute lack of time, explains my near-complete absence hereabouts. To load a single page I have to hit the refresh button dozens of times. Sometimes it doesn't work at all, often for hours at a time. When it does work, it's as slow as if we were back in 1998, on a 56k modem.

I spend what little spare time I have reading, or watching some of the TV I brought (Terminator, mostly - still haven't quite finished that show). I've finished the lovely Litany of the Long Sun omnibus, and sadly couldn't go on immediately to read the next volume, Epiphany of the Long Sun, as I don't own that yet. Will have to wait for Christmas for that one... I'm reading an omnibus volume of the first three Vlad Taltos books by Steven Brust now - have finished the first two and am a couple of chapters into the third. I wasn't overly engaged by the first two, but it's getting more interesting now with the third. Vlad is about to acquire some more awareness, it seems, and Brust is getting around to drawing us deeper into the social politics of his society. If this is indicative of the way the series will be heading, I may stick around for the next volume. If it had continued like the first two books I probably wouldn't. I've realised that I read books either for character, or for atmosphere/worldbuilding. Either of these is enough to hold my interest, though of course a combination of both is best, but I don't really read for plot. Plot-focused readers would probably find a lot to enjoy in the first two Vlad Taltos books. But for me, the worldbuilding was too thin (basically, standard sword and sorcery type fantasy mixed with mafia tropes), and Vlad as a character wasn't sympathetic or interesting enough. But I think he's getting more depth now, and so is his world.

My busted shoulder is still busted. I should probably finally go and see a doctor about that.

On the plus side, our washing machine may be fixed soonish. And the weather has improved. Sadly, with my busted shoulder, taking photos is somewhat painful.

A List

Sep. 18th, 2010 01:26 am
hmpf: (Default)
This - I think - is what is/will soon be on my Favourites Shelf at home. It's really just my Fat Favourites Shelf - as it lacks sides, only fat books can go up there; others would too easily fall over & fall off my bunk bed, which the shelf is really a part of. Though they're not all *that* fat, not all of them. Anyway. I'm sure I've forgotten one or two - this is a reconstruction from memory, after all. I miss them, being 600 km away from them at the moment. Though, since two are recent favourites, these two are here with me now. But I miss the rest; hence, the list. Lists are magical. Listmaking is a ritual I need, occasionally. No time to go into details about any of these books, I'm afraid - and anyway, I find it hard to articulate precisely why I like them the way I do. Well. Feel free to google. Some of the reasons why other people like them probably resemble mine. Though I think some of my reasons really are quite idiosyncratically my own.


(In alphabetical order, not in order of preference. There is no order of preference.)

Clive Barker: Imajica
Susanna Clarke: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
John Crowley: Little, Big
Samuel R. Delany: Dhalgren
Michael de Larrabeiti: The Borrible Trilogy
Frank Herbert: Dune
Ursula K. LeGuin: Always Coming Home
Doris Lessing: Shikasta
Wolf von Niebelschütz: Die Kinder der Finsternis
Orhan Pamuk: Das schwarze Buch
J.R.R. Tolkien: The Hobbit
J.R.R. Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings
Gene Wolfe: The Book of the New Sun
Gene Wolfe: The Book of the Long Sun
Austin Tappan Wright: Islandia


I think I love all of them for their worlds, and most also for some specific psychological undercurrents. Similar ones, in many cases, though not in all.

Needless to say, there's literally dozens of books that only very nearly missed getting onto that shelf - or may yet make it, after a reread. (The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant; Tigana; Viriconium; Gormenghast...) I don't think a favourites list can ever be definitive.
hmpf: (Default)
Here's the skinny: the past three and a half weeks have been mostly exhausting and somewhat demoralising. This is not really my employer's fault. It's mostly my frelling complexes. Anyway, not terribly much fun has been had by me, so far - and what's a lot worse: I don't think I've made a terribly good impression, so far. I have two months to correct that. Hopefully.

Aside from work (which, in itself, could actually be kind of fun, if it weren't for my constant "OMG I'm so crap!!!11" complexes), I'm finding it difficult to live so far outside the city. I live so far out I actually have to take the bus to do my grocery shopping, and the shops close early, so on most days I have to hurry home after work without any detours for sightseeing in this theoretically exciting big city, to do my daily bit of shopping. (I have to go shopping frequently because I really can't store huge amounts of food here, due to lack of space, and also, fresh fruit and veggies and bread really don't store all that well for more than a couple of days. So I'm constantly running out of things, which means frequent trips to the supermarket.) Enjoying the city is further made difficult by 1.) the fact that we work very long hours, so there isn't many hours of daylight left after work, 2.) the weather has been nearly constantly very crappy since I arrived, and 3.) I really have to pick up my pace on getting out job applications, which means: at least four out of five evenings, I spend at the laptop, working on cover letters and the like. So, essentially, I have very, very little spare time that really deserves the name. Most days it's like today: I finish my work for the day just before midnight (or, often, even later), and after that hardly feel capable of doing anything but go to bed. (Of course, today "work" only means household work and job applications. I don't work weekends. Well, I do work tomorrow, but that's voluntary, and an exception.) - Anyway: the take-home lesson of *this* part of the experience is: I shouldn't ever move to the suburbs. I'm not made for that lifestyle. I kinda knew that before, but now I have confirmation.

So. What else is there to write about? John Crowley's novel "Little, Big" really is as good as they say. Got it for my birthday and read it over the last three weeks on the train to work and before going to sleep at night, and enjoyed it immensely. Now, I'm reading Paul Bacigalupi's "The Windup Girl", which is also good but so far hasn't captured me as much as "Little, Big" did. I think "Little, Big" may be a book I'll put on my favourites shelf, next to my bed (well, technically, the shelf is part of my bed. And I've been meaning to post about it here, and about what's on it. Maybe when I'm back home.)

Oh, and to get to where I'll work tomorrow, I'll have to walk through this: Kinda excited about that!
hmpf: (angsty)
desperate measures: I've covered my windows with sheets of white paper. Let's hope it'll help to keep the temperature in my room a couple degrees under the 37 degrees Celsius (98.6 degrees Fahrenheit) expected for this weekend... because I have such a lot of work to do, and I'm not sure I can work if my room gets that hot. :-(

Maybe I'll go to the library and try to work there during the day. It's air-conditioned... I hate working in a room filled with people, some of whom may know me and want to chat etc., where I can't eat or drink while I'm working, but it probably beats sweating to death.
hmpf: (Default)
what's next?

I think nature's trying to kill me, this week.

Okay, the earthquake earlier this week wasn't so dangerous. But the heat's hell on my circulation. I get dizzy all the time... The fact that I have crazy amounts of work to do doesn't help. Not that it's really possible to work. I'm permanently sticky with sweat all over (except for those parts of my body where the sweat just *streams* like miniature waterfalls. Typing-while-sticky is *not* fun. My fingers keep sticking to the frelling keyboard. It's frelling annoying. I can handle streaming sweat - it's the stickiness I can't take. I'm seriously thinking about putting wet towels in the fridge to cool them so I can then use them to periodically cool my hands!)

I'd love to live in a flat that *didn't* tend to equalise with the ambient temperature so quickly...

Hey: one more reason to stop Global Warming: save Hmpf from circulatory collapse!

April 2016

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