Days like today, growing up, my mom would build a fire in the fireplace and burn papers. Discarded magazines, old newspapers, items with what we would now call sensitive information. So my ears are suggesting I go down in the basement of a house I haven't lived in for 30+ years and my nose is insisting something doesn't smell right because there's no tang of smoke in the damp.
Next I'll be rabbiting on about madeleines.
Even I, mired in the throes of dyscalculia, can look at those numbers and know I need more material if I'm going to fully cover the windows. However, after putting up two test panels on the flanking windows, I realized that for the center window I am not going to want full coverage, or (among other things) the hummingbirds at the feeder will ALWAYS look like those grainy blurs I tweeted earlier. So my plan became to fill in the lower portion of the two side windows (a 19"x 21" space on each), and if the numbers work out, order another roll to cover the center panel leaving a viewing gap at the top.
I am terrible at arithmetic. I used to think I was just bad at math, except that didn't seem entirely right because I got mostly A's in math classes until I hit a wall in trigonometry/pre-calculus. Knowing what I know now, I'm pretty sure it was the sine/cosine/etc. tables that did me in there, since this was just prior to computers taking over the world, and certain sadists in the field of childhood education felt that the use of calculators was tantamount to cheating. Ahem. In any case, my problem isn't with theory - my problem is that in my mind, numerals and numbers both behave like they are made of mercury, and the moment I turn my back on them they dissolve into a giant puddle of "set it all equal to 1". Plus the classic mistakes of 2 for 5, 6 for 9, 3 for 8 and the reverse.
Practical projects go something like this: measure window, write down measurements, measure window again, write down measurements, add 36"+ 19" and get 45", do some area calculations, realize something is off, check my math with the calculator, discover that 36+19 is 55". Wonder how I both carried the 1 and dropped it at the same time. Swear off doing math in my head AGAIN, except this was a sum I'd worked on paper. Twice. Remind myself this is why I check my arithmetic with the calculator, especially before I start the part with the slice-y things. Go online, order another roll of film; cut the remaining film I have to size and successfully apply it.
I like the feeling of accomplishment I get from rectifying household issues like this one, but sometimes the figuring takes three times as long as the actual work. Good thing I can judge success by what works.
Decided to attend TwitchCon in San Diego for my birthday because the London trip wasn't going to work out. I won't call it an acid test but I think after I come back I'll know a lot more about what sort of streaming I want to continue to do. More than one time it has been suggested that the readings I currently do might be a better fit on YouTube... which amuses me because the coffee roasting streams I've done are on YouTube and not Twitch due to a foible of the software I've been using. What kind of introvert streams? That's one question I keep asking myself, along with wondering if this isn't another thing that sounds really cool in my head but in the real world isn't something I'm suited for in temperament. More research is needed, ergo this trip.
The most "throw-up-my-hands" moment so far in the storage unit purge has got to be the boxes of other, empty, "perfectly good boxes" I've uncovered and recycled. We've been paying to warehouse a remarkable collection of empty space. (I'm pretty confident I haven't inadvertently destroyed anyone's gift of 'the breath from their body' or the like.)
I will be putting the vintage stuff up for sale on Etsy, in particular the Nativity sets and the glassware. There's a major donation run for the clothes in my future as well.
I'm making better progress that it seems if I measure by boxes emptied. Even when I omit the ones that were already empty when I started.
It's quite a relief to have it all consolidated, though.
One of the films we have currently is The Babadook, a horror piece with Essie Davis. I didn't recognize her from the latter two Matrix films, but my co-usher mentioned a Australian tv series she stars in called Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries which she recommended as utterly delightful. Davis plays Miss Phryne Fisher (pronounced FRY-knee, I discovered, rather than any of the more creative mispronunciations I had come up with before-hand). I got the first season on DVD from the library, and the 1st & 2nd seasons are on Netflix streaming at the moment, and they are wonderful. I've seen a couple of the folks I follow here on LJ mention them in passing, so I wanted to chime in and add my accolades to the mix. Gorgeous costumes, sharp wit, and social commentary that is on-point and informs the action without seeming forced. It's a period drama set in 1928 Melbourne, Australia and the first season manages to address gender expectations, (homo & hetero)sexuality, women's rights, worker's rights, racism, classism, and the fetishization of ancient history while treating the actual cultural successors of said historical 'golden ages' like crap. But you can also just watch it as a well-crafted set of murder mysteries, if you're not feeling inclined to exegesis at the moment.
The other item my interest is currently piqued by is a film SIFF Uptown will be getting in late January called A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night. The tagline claims it as the First Iranian Vampire Western, and the trailer is a beautiful noir-looking piece of black-and-white cinematography that I find really enticing. I can think of a myriad of places and ways the story could go based on what I've seen, and they are all interesting.
Then of course there are The Imitation Game, the new Hobbit, the Pingwings of Madagascar, and Jupiter Ascending as well, but they've all got their own PR machines a-rolling already. We screened a preview of Inherent Vice last night during my shift as well, and that one is going to be one that despite it being crammed full of actors I enjoy I will probably give a miss. I think it's harder to be nostalgic for the 1970s if you were actually alive during them; I was fairly young but old enough to remember a fair bit of discomfort and cognitive dissonance. But you know, we tell ourselves the stories we want to hear.
In tales of the brain fog: we are screening the Broadway production of Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men at the SIFF film center, and I went to see it before my usher shift last weekend. When I told people I was planning to see it, I kept getting the strangest looks; "You do know the story?" said one good friend I told. Well, yes - I read the book in school, after all. Except that I was mentally confusing Grapes of Wrath with Of Mice and Men. Oops. Still, I managed to enjoy the movie even though I spent the whole 150 minutes weeping. One of the interesting things to me about the story is while my mom's half-brothers were never itinerant, they were ranch hands. So I have some slight connection to that culture.
I am enjoying the lights people are putting up, and seeing decorated trees in people's windows.