cimorene: (workout)
ADULT: Girls, now it's time to clean up. Yesterday you didn't clean up very quickly and I had to come help you, so I hope that doesn't happen today. The whole room has to be clean before we go outside so they can clean the floors, so when I come back in five minutes, I hope the room looks really tidy!



FOUR-YEAR-OLD: WAIT! We were supposed to be cleaning!!

4YO #2: GASP!

4YO #1: Hey! Let's clean up as cats!




cimorene: (sleek & stylish)
I followed a link from Pinterest to this list of supposedly the "essential" "basics" that "any woman" would need in her wardrobe, and like... gobsmacked.

I mean, I can ALMOST accept Tim Gunn's theory of basics, but there were still "basics" according to him that I objected to on the grounds that many many women, even many middle-class women living in the modern west in cities, would not need them. But THIS list is... something else. For one thing, it's way too long to conceivably be any kind of "universal", but that's just for starters. It's not just kinda classist by being tilted explicitly towards OFFICE work; and it's not just overly femme, which these lists usually are... )
cimorene: (perfect)
5-YEAR-OLD BOY: I want one of the girls to swing with me but they only want to swing with each other!
OTHER 5-YEAR-OLD BOY: They never want to swing with me either!
5YOB: It's not fair if they only swing with each other! And they also don't want to play with us hardly ever! They almost only play together! It's not faaaiiiiir!
ME: No, that isn't unfair. They get to decide what they want to do. Everyone gets to decide who they want to play with, and that is fair.
5YOB: Yes it is unfair and I can prove it! Because I also want to to share a tire swing with them, but they won't let me!
ME: You can have a turn on the swing, but if they want to leave they don't have to play with you...
5YOB: Look, one of you swing with me now because there aren't any free swings! One of you pick. No? Okay then I'll pick... like... um... Girl A!
ME: No, they get to decide themselves what they want to do. Girls, you can stay here and swing with 5YOB or you can pick up your toys from the sandbox.
ME: It isn't unfair. Enough.
cimorene: (helen kane)
Friday as I was walking home I came up behind 2 precious young Somalian women in traditional long skirts & hijab and then a white middle-aged Finnish couple [crossed a street and came] walking towards us. Gross old shriveled-up dude did an actual rubberneck to glare at them. I thought my head was gonna explode with outrage. I tried to give him the evil eye & then magically he looked back, caught my eye [over one girl's shoulder], did a double take and then actively swerved [his and his companion's] path out away from me & the girls, averting his gaze to the ground. SUCCESS

The two women were chatting quietly to each other and carrying huge shopping bags, so I don't know if they even glanced at the old couple, which would explain the exaggerated rubberneck gesture the gross dude performed.

Also I was walking about twice as fast as them which is how the old guy didn't appear to notice me at first, then suddenly did as I was just about to pass the women.
cimorene: murder magician: "i'm serious." assistant: "he is." (srs bzns)
"Let's pretend your car falls in love with me, but I don't love it. Okay?"
cimorene: (distance)
It's kinda funny how 6-year-olds don't really grasp causality.

Like, you were the only ones in the hall. There was no way for anyone to enter the hall without being heard. Two adults know you were there. We witnessed an object fly through the air from the hall door and land in the kitchen. The object is still there.

So there's literally no way that none of you threw the object. It is inanimate. You cannot convince the adults that you are innocent of affecting the physical position of this object because the laws of physics prevent this from being true.

Two adults are not going to believe you guys above the laws of physics, which have never let them down.

This is a bad lie.

The words you were looking for were "I didn't see who threw it." If you all said that, nobody would know which ones were lying, although we still wouldn't believe you. If you all claim that definitely none of you touched it, then you're all presumed guilty.

Though some more guilty than others by virtue of a behavior pattern of literally always, 100% of the time, being bad, usually for no discernable reason.

After Apprentice Child Nurse Coworker put some gentle individual pressure on them the adorable child who is my favorite male kindergartener squealed on the others. I knew my fondness was justified.
cimorene: art by autumn whitehurst (godlike)
CHILD: Welcome to our store - come buy some stuff.
ME: Okay, what do I owe you?
CHILD: Well, how bout you pay, like... 22 spiders.
cimorene: A vintage nouveau illustration of a reclining woman embracing the enormous head of a dragon (cuddle time)
Dad has left the hospital three (?) times and gone back three times now. More tests, but no more blood transfusions that we've been told of. What exactly is going on remains a tremendous medical mystery apparently.

This time was the second arrhythmia. The first time he was in the cardiac unit, medical science first thought it was a very small heart attack, then that it was not a heart attack but only an almost-heart attack. He ultimately moved out of cardiac (from whence he got a regular room, then an intensive care room for unrelated reasons, then released, then back to the hospital Thursday (?)). I think there's no phones in the cardiac unit according to mom.

I'm getting "Just Exactly How Worried About This Do I Need To Be?" emotional fatigue.

I never realized that THAT would be such an issue in cases of medical mystery, especially as it seems comparatively petty beside the health of a loved one, but there you are.

My mom assures me and my sister, though, that if it gets serious enough that they think we need to rush to his bedside she will tell us. And I think I can trust that, because it's only a 5-hour drive for my sister, which at this point is practically just commuting by the standards of our family.
cimorene: (stfu)
CHILD: This is my lightsaber. [His lightsaber is made out of mostly-red legos.]
ME: Oh, what color is it? What color is the light? [CHILD HESITATES] Is it red?
CHILD: It's green AND red. It's multi-colored. It's a disco light.

KINDERGARTENER: Can I try out that balloon pump?
ME: I don't know - is it too hard? Do you need help from an adult?
KINDERGARTENER: Some of the other kids did it yesterday... why are you wearing so much mascara?

CHILD: Kiwi, two kids said that your picture was the ugliest picture ever drawn!
KIWI: Um, oh no.
ME: You know, I heard the boss say this morning that the one who says something is actually that thing themselves.
(Hopefully being the ugliest picture ever drawn wasn't too upsetting for those kids?)

And a bonus.

CHILD IN THE ELEVATOR DRESSED AS A FIREMAN: There's a fire in the building!
ME: Uh-oh, then I should go down instead of up!
CHILD, cautiously: Because... of... that there's a fire?
cimorene: (workout)
LAPSI 1: Sä olet ihan lapsi!
AIKUINEN: Mikä sinä sitten olet? Aikuinen?
LAPSI 1: Mä olen melkein aikuinen.
LAPSI 2: Ei, ku sä olet lapsi. [MIETII] Sä olet IHAN lapsi.

And here's a few things that do translate:

CHILD 1: We can't do this. We need help.


CHILD: Hair styling is also my hobby! Everything is my hobby!


CHILD: How old are you anyway, 40?
ADULT: 26.
CHILD: That's almost 40. My mom is 50 and you're almost that old.
cimorene: Screencap of an iChat conversation bubble that says "Dude?" (huh?)
My dad's been low-level sick and riding the calling Drs merry-go-round for more than a month now, until two weeks ago a new assistant discovered a previously hidden pressure sore. So yay, solved, and he only had to go through a few more trips to various medical places, this time focused on treatment...

... except apparently he was ordered bed rest to decrease a risk of sepsis (?!), but a nurse said it to him when handing him his orders and the doctor didn't repeat it, so my dad decided that it didn't count. (??!!)

This, according to my mom, may or may not have to do with the fact that he actualfax loathes being in bed, even at nighttime (he finds it both uncomfortable and boring) and has been delaying going to bed as long as possible for weeks now, resulting in nodding off during the day.

RESULT: An exciting trip to the ER and he's now been admitted to the hospital. He hates the hospital. My mom was angry/worried enough to type like five screens' worth of explanation on her iphone, and my mom's patience for texting is usually very very low. My dad has apologized profusely to everybody for the worrying.
cimorene: murder magician: "i'm serious." assistant: "he is." (srs bzns)
My coworker asked me to wake the naptime stragglers & Child Who Always Wants Adult Attention was still lying there, unspeaking, even after I made three trips over the next five minutes attempting to request, command and cajole her.

"You won't have time to eat snack with everybody" left her unmoved, as did "Everybody else is up playing already" and "You have to get dressed and eat so you can go outside and play."

Finally I had a brainstorm.

ME: You know, I've already laid out your clothes on the carpet, and your sparkly barrette. If you don't want to wear it some other child might.
ME: I mean, it's just lying there and everyone else is in there playing, and who knows? One of them might pick it up.
cimorene: (stfu)
8:20 walk to work. Load dishwasher. Dress children.
9:30 walk with 2-yo by the hand over railway overpass to elementary school.
10. Undress children. Running-around-time in socks in a very cold, tiny, wood-floored gym. Dress children again.
11. Back to daycare. Undress children again. Unload the dishwasher.
11:30 Lunch. Load the dishwasher.
12-13. Do all the dishes from the daycare's bigger building using the industrial dishwasher.
13. Break... sort of... during which I had to put away the lunch dishes. (I sat down long enough to fix and drink two cups of tea in between doing stuff.)
13:45 Setting up snack for the big building.
14. Back to little building, talking 2-year-olds through diaper removal and dressing themselves.
14:30 My coworkers in the little building prefer to prepare snack themselves even though it's technically my job. Snacktime.
15. Chilling on the floor and occasionally saying things like "Come out of there" and "Don't throw that".

My work day technically ends at 15:45 but my coworkers tend to release me half an hour early, which I find reasonable because a) they don't need the extra pair of hands especially once kids start leaving and b) I don't get a real break during the day.

There's a windstorm warning and the wind was already blowing hard enough on my way to work this morning that it held me immobile with one foot in the air as I leaned into it trying to walk across the street. When I went outside again in the afternoon the sidewalk, road and park are littered with fallen branches, including several longer than I am tall. The children can't go outside this afternoon because of the big trees in the yard.
cimorene: (Default)
The last time I cut my hair, I accidentally made the chin-length bob a hair too short and didn't like it, and decided to do a pixie cut instead.

But I have regretted this bitterly ever since (and increasingly), especially now, a month and a half on: it's like John Sheppard's greatest hits constantly. I can't just part it on the side and comb it down because IT WON'T LIE DOWN no matter what I do (even saturate it with gel and/or mousse and/or leave in conditioner).

I also can't just comb it up into spikes or a fauxhawk or whatever either: it absolutely refuses to point in any less than 20 directions, a minimum of 10 of these undesirable ones.
cimorene: (crack)
I had a really long discussion at lunch today with my tablemate1 about what monkeys might or might not like to eat, with a firm understanding that bananas come first and then a lot of speculation building on that - do monkeys like chicken? Maybe they prefer fruit in general?

My conversational partner's imagination was really stuck on sauce (we had chicken breasts cooked in a sort of curry-colored, mild fruity sauce for lunch today. She said she liked it at first but she didn't eat much of it). Namely, do monkeys like it?

We talked about how in the wild monkeys don't cook so they don't get sauce; but plenty of monkeys live in captivity so they might eat sauces there (someone would have to ask a zoo employee for example, and she interjected excitedly "I CAN ASK!" "Yes, if you go to a zoo and meet a zookeeper"); but even if they don't already eat sauce, they might LIKE sauce.

She kept coming back to that:

"They COULD like sauce," she announced (several times).


"They might eat it."

"Yep, they might eat it if you give it to them."

"They might eat chicken and sauce."

"If monkeys eat chicken at all they might. I'm not sure if they do."

"They might just eat sauce, without chicken."

"That's true, they might. Lots of people like sauce. Maybe monkeys would too."

"Sauce might be tasty to monkeys."

"Yep, it might."




I've never heard her talking about monkeys before, so I'm a bit curious where that came from.

1. I had two more tablemates, but one of them is monosyllabic because she's only mastered a couple of words, and the other was a 20-year-old substitute without any experience who was simply understandably shy.

I thought about bringing up that to my certain knowledge many monkeys eat insects, but my insect-related vocabulary in Finnish is slim and my coworkers are the type who react sensitively to insects and have weirdly exhaustive lists of things they apparently think you shouldn't discuss at the table, so I didn't want to risk it.
cimorene: murder magician: "i'm serious." assistant: "he is." (srs bzns)
It's interesting both that Armitage wears a legit stereotypical hooked Jew nose prosthetic in The Hobbit and that so much fanart ignores it.

From many angles:

  • The visual references to Judaism in The Hobbit are no doubt inspired directly by Tolkien as the association between dwarves and the jewish people is widely known.

  • As such, they are almost certainly intended to be both subtle and respectful - see the changes made to alleviate the 'species-wide greediness' aspect of the story and instead to underscore the 'return to homeland' narrative, for example.

  • But in the context of Jewish references, adding a characteristic such as this nose is neither subtle nor respectful; having one of your references to a culture that is the object of an allegorical exploration be the well-known object of racist caricature seems like an OBVIOUSLY really bad idea (unless that's the point, but then you have to problematize it).

  • However, it's obviously still subtle enough to go over the heads of a lot of blissfully ignorant people.

  • So this situation manages to be uncomfortable both coming and going, because first there's Racist Caricature Face, and then there's the fanart re-whitewashing the character by eliminating it in favor of a straight one like the actor's.

  • It goes without saying that 'maybe that didn't occur to the filmmakers' is not an excuse because it's their job to make sure that it occurs to them, even though it is sadly not impossible (NB it IS an excuse for the fanartists. They're in it for fun and fannish love, not to make millions and not backed by a lot of mega corporations ultimately enriching Donald Trump or whoever. The fact that they genuinely lack the cultural context to recognize the racist caricature is genuinely interesting here).

  • It should be noted the nose prosthetics on many of the other dwarves are not Jewish noses, just as their iconography is very different - their styles of hair and clothing also relying on entirely different referents - but that Fili's, for example, is still bulbous, even though his and Kili's visual style follow Thorin's otherwise. Of course, that means that hooked noses can't possibly be a 'racial' feature of dwarves in general (though the foundation of the stereotype for Jews is also a bit shaky), so maybe that makes it okay?

    But no, it still has to be suspect for several reasons:
    1. The amount of design that went into the character. Not a single facet of his appearance is due to chance. The nose was designed. It went through multiple iterations.

    2. The symbolic significance of the character. He represents - stands for- other dwarves, and dwarfishness, on multiple levels, both metatextual and within the text.

    3. He is the locus of the most intense Jewishness references already - the exile and return, the quest, the daring warrior king.

  • For the title assertion, I followed a link from Wikipedia to here: The First Book of Samuel by David Toshio Tsumura
cimorene: art by autumn whitehurst (godlike)

"I never use ketchup... I don't even like it. I mean, except when I'm making pasta sauce with ground beef and on top of the pizza crust of course, but not just on top of food."

cimorene: (workout)
  1. This fic is not beta-ed nor brit-pricked. How do you even write things and how do you come up with titles really?

  2. ((And please just pretend that there is a timeline that makes sense, lol, I'm afraid I'm ignoring such things for the sake of a good story))

  3. TW: Major Character Deaths
    I would recommend listening to the song while you read, but also adding in the lyrics in the brackets that I changed from the original song.

  4. Tags: Implied Versatile Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

  5. Please beware. This is an absolute crack! Seriously it’s so shitty but I kind of like it XD

cimorene: Screencap of an iChat conversation bubble that says "Dude?" (huh?)
CHILD: Cim Cim Cim Cim
ME: What?
CHILD: Wasps aren't eaten.
ME: That's true. We don't eat wasps. It isn't a good idea.

SAME CHILD: Where did the siren car go?
ME: Right past us. Somewhere else, where there's probably an emergency.
SAME CHILD: Yes, somewhere far away. I saw a siren car and then a helicopter came and they arrested a monster.
ME: Wow... whoa, a monster?
SAME CHILD: Yes, a big monster. REALLY big. It was this big [Indicates a height of 3']

ADULT: Okay, we've got horses in the barn now, so what animal should live there next? Maybe a cow, or pig?

CHILD, to me: Why do you always wear jeans?
ME: Um - I guess because I like jeans, but -
CHILD: Yeah but sometimes they should be taken off and washed though.
ME: Er, that's right. And that's why I do that. I have more than one pair of jeans.
CHILD: I have some jeans but my favorite pair are pink and they have a zipper AND a button.

ME: Hello.
CHILD: Why are you drawing on your phone?
ME: I like to draw.
CHILD, losing interest: Anyway here's my butt!
OTHER CHILD: And mine!
cimorene: Elizabeth Garvie as Elizabeth in P&P (1980), sitting alone in a smocked white dress, reading Darcy's letter (working)
Today at lunchtime a two-year-old who loves food was sitting next to me without eating at all and it turned out this was because he was falling asleep - literally nodding off in fact; couldn't keep his little eyes open. I spoonfed him a couple of bites and he ate them happily enough... and then his eyes closed again emetophobia, general grossout )

Then at afternoon snacktime the kids were eating bowls of fruit kisseli which is sort of like thin jam, or thick fruit soup (the dictionary offers "fool" and "dessert cream" which sound British and weird and also I had no idea what they were). And one of my two remaining tablemates grossness )

OH AND OKAY one of my coworkers in the Little Kid House is on vacay this week and I only met her substitute on Monday before getting sick the entire week, but I knew I would see her today as well on her last day, so when I walked in and there was a woman of the right general size and shape on the floor playing with a kid, I just assumed it was her.

So when she was like "Hey, good morning", I immediately fixated on her haircut and was like "Have you cut your hair?" which, surprisingly, kind of threw her into confusion.

She said "No," but it was more like "... ??? ??? No... ???" and we kinda stared at each other and she started to explain something along the lines of, "I've come here today..." and I was like

"OH! You're not [Substitute's Name]?"

"No... I'm X, the special education teacher assigned to this daycare..."

"OH, yes, I've seen your picture on the wall in the other building, that's why you looked familiar! Sorry..." I said.

And I mean, she wasn't mad or anything. I think. Just very, very confused.

But when I was telling the other work practicer about it at lunchtime I laughed until I cried.


cimorene: (Default)

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