modern

dude, i have the hots for this layout.

not to mention the sports night fic.

in other news, still in pain. i'm growing very fond of the plush water bottle pig in spite of its strong smell of rubber. i'm thinking i should name it. anyone got any ideas?

did i mention that trebuchet is my favorite font? because it is. it's beautiful.

somewhere on a higher mental plane

medication achieved. i got lost when using the simplest map in the world, actually TRACED from the official ones in the phone book, and was late, but the lady very kindly gave me a prescription. they have no paxil cr, so the difference is, no alcohol and no medication on an empty stomach. plus i didn't know how to get to the apothecary from the health center so i went to class half an hour early and did the homework i didn't do last night. i took the long route to the apothecary after class, but at least i made it. and now i'm typing slow because, apparently, my knuckles are frozen solid.

i'm in finland, but for those of you americans considering relocation, i'll just express my heartfelt affection for toronto. it's a beautiful city. and there's french on all the packaging in canada which seems to me really fun and exciting whether or not you speak french. if there's any possibility of your visiting me, i nominate the netherlands. sweden is closer but less english-language-accessible. the netherlands has lots of art and architecture, too. and gay marriage.

sports night rec

the first move, by sinead. nc-17. mid-length, satisfying, not radical story. nice. "Going someplace?" Casey finally asked, congratulating himself on striking exactly the right note of abstraction. Such as would be felt by a sports anchor who was actually writing his script.



i've been on a reading binge, and rather than spam i've been keeping a running tab. which means next time i update my recs there will actually be things in it that haven't appeared in here before. wild, i know. i just thought i would share because, for some reason, i find that mildly exciting.

displaying my journal on wax's computer

i found out the problem.

i had coded my default font in the user-friendly-interface as "trebuchet", not "trebuchet ms." firefox understood. opera and ie didn't.

you know what? fuck america.

i've never been patriotic, and not just because i find patriotism, like team spirit, deeply creepy, but because since i was a child, i've been a cynical bitch and i have looked at the country with open eyes and disliked it.  that dislike has grown stronger as i've gotten older.  it has been mixed with disgust and horror and fear, as well as the realization that people are despicable in other places too;  but it has never been supplanted. 

but i have also felt wistful affection for the ideals the country was supposedly founded on, and discovered hidden bits of subconscious affection for familiar things.  and i have felt hope, especially over the last four years.

and despite my solid belief that america is more stupid and self-centered than other countries--i have never believed this could happen.  for the past year, i think--once the atrocities of those currently in power in this country reached a certain point--i have never really believed bush could be re-elected.  i guess i hang out on livejournal too much.  if i wanted to face harsh reality with my eyes open, i should have immersed myself more in the sewer of the real world. 

because i'm genuinely shocked.  i feel sick.  i feel embarrassed that i was naive.

and i don't have any hope left.  i don't have any belief in a base below which americans will not sink--there is no baseline of stupidity, wilful ignorance, hate, fear.  there is no bad thing that cannot happen.  i'm through.  i'm not going to waste more energy on false hope.  i don't want this identity.  the insanity of this people and this country which i have never been able to identify with--i don't want them anymore. 

this is it, america.  it's over.  goodbye.  i hope you rot.  i hope you do it with a minimum of damage to other people and places.  you're not my country.

but actually, soft drinks come in liters in america

taking out my frustrations by cooking double batch of toll house cookies.  don't worry, no tears in the batter. 

for future reference?  your average smaller mixing bowl where the whole mixing thing is really hand-held is going to smell of burnt rubber if you try to mix four hundred grams of butter and a liter of flour in it with four eggs.

tralala.