I bought a lot of groceries a week ago and have been succeeding reasonably well at feeding myself. The only failures have been one under-flavored curry and a poor understanding of how fast the baby bok choy would go bad, meaning I didn't get to use it (and want to replace it before making my first attempt at at-home shabu shabu).
I have taken over the email newsletter for the local historical society.
Planning to do Mardi Gras nails for Tuesday. I have a decent collection of nail polish but I don't wear it very much. I am unskilled at painting my nails and, because I work with my hands a lot of the time, it chips quickly.
Signed up for SuperBetter. I think gamification will help me form better habits.
Hater-Free Wednesdays is a new tumblr aggregating reviews and stories about comic shops to help people find local shops that will not shit all over their gender/race/etc.
I bought a ticket for Fall Out Boy's Boston show in May! Very pleased to have them back. I'm not exactly in bandom any more - I am hardwired mono-fannish, and got into the Avengers thanks to the movie (and then I slid sideways into ALL THE MARVEL COMICS EVER, sort of, so that's a huge canon and fandom) - but I miss going to concerts.
stultiloquentia: Fictions and Elsewheres
Yesterday on the train I read Scientific American's special report on parallel universes. Briefly: they ain't science fiction. They're theoretical, of course, but at least some of the theories are at this point pretty darned solid and make sense of increasingly huge heaps of data.I knew there was a reason I made an entire religion in Auriel whose cosmology says that everything is stories and god is a writer. (Well, a reason besides ego. Heh.)
Why should fandom care? Well, mostly because science is cool. But also? It means our stories are real. Quite literally. Every course of events and configuration of particles, every decision and every outcome you can possibly imagine is, in an infinite universe, occurring right now. Kurt and Blaine? Somewhere, incomprehensibly far off, they're as solid as you and I, and muddling through snowstorms and love. Somewhere slightly off to the left, they've already been married for eighty years. We'll never meet them, and nor will our descendants, because, among other problems, the multiverse is expanding faster than it's possible to travel though it. But they're out there.
They're making up stories about you.