Digging In
OK. Here we go.
This Probably Works Better When You’re Not Really Self-Conscious
As I expected, associating “Good” and “Vabbenif” happens a lot more quickly in my lizard brain, but then, as shown, associating the pale figure with *anything* was something I did a lot more than with the dark figure. Try it for yourself. At least, I think that’s how I read these numbers (“0” was average.
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A Scrap of Land and 2 Dollars in a Coffee Can
Stephanie’s Old Man’s parents, Nancy and Brian, are in town this week doing home repairs. They’re amazing. They’re replumbing and rewiring the whole house. Last night, Nancy and Stephanie took acetone and sandpaper to all the cabinets in the little kitchen to prep them for new paint and new doors. Today I came home to
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Dissonance
Life just keeps going, doesn’t it? I suppose that’s the definition, but yeah, boy, it just marches on regardless. Sometimes it’s just stunning, how that is.
Are You Allowed to Criticise the Fiction of a Writer You’re Sleeping With?
Gee, I hope so. In a discussion over at Torque Control about a review of the October/Nov 2006 issue of the Mag of SF/F, one commenter pointed out that, as writers/industry pros who knew the writers of these stories, we weren’t looking at the critiques the reviewer made objectively. We were concentrating on the critique
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Clipping
I work for a minority-owned company, and it just so happens that the majority of our franchisees are also minorities and women (I love the stupid word “minorities” to mean “not white!” because, you know, you put together all of the “not white” people, and suddenly, they’re not so much a minority, but Let’s Not
Reading Wikipedia in French
I’ve been busting up on my French for awhile now, trying to get in at least a few pages or lessons or some kind of exposure to it at least once a day. It’s been a goal of mine to be able to get around in French for some time now, but it was one
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Why Do I Always Overcorrect for Whole Wheat Pasta?
Why? Why? Why? I love my graham crackers and all, but when food is medicine, it’s just not as fun to eat, particularly when you’re up feeling woozy past your bedtime. Blarg. I would like to magically be able to tell my body to stop eating my pancreas.
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