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I've spent three days recovering from our trip in the sense of avoiding my car for awhile. Admittedly, I had to leave the house for a couple of errands, but those were very short, very local trips. No freeways were involved and the ground was flat. I never realized before how much I appreciate that flatness. I am not your mountain-loving pal, let me say that. I like them! I don't want to drive in them, though. Other places I don't want to drive: within a twenty-mile radius of either Portland or Seattle. The traffic is so bad.

However, I am doing just that next month. After telling everyone I wasn't going to my 50th high school reunion on Mercer Island I finally acknowledged that I'd really regret not going. I had a pretty decent high school experience and those memories have faded quite a bit (but not the parts where I was an awkward teenager making social mistakes ahaha no, those memories are super clear). It's been fun the few times I've run into old classmates since then. So I'm going for a quick 24 hour trip. About 170 of our class of 500 have signed up, 150 of whom I haven't seen since we graduated, so that should be amusing. Well, amusing to me, the extrovert of extroverts.

I am still firm on not going up for Worldcon, though. I'm not sure what it would take to get me to a Worldcon these days.

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https://www.tomshardware.com/pc-components/storage/yes-you-can-store-data-on-a-bird-enthusiast-converts-png-to-bird-shaped-waveform-teaches-young-starling-to-recall-file-at-up-to-2mb-s

Taking this proof-of-concept to a ridiculous destination, imagine taking a very simple secret message, converting it to sound, and tasking a starling to smuggle it out somewhere. (This seems very impractical compared to an amateurishly knitted scarf with a code in the seemingly random purl stitches.)

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Current Mood: uncomfortable

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July 22: I message my symptoms team for a refill on my primary pain med (which is still only the next step up from Tylenol 3). And yet, it's what keeps me from regularly screaming when I exert myself in a way that stresses my right hip. I have 21 + 5 (a week plus a day and 2/3) left.

July 24: A list of detailed follow-up questions from the symptoms nurse, and my detailed reply. About 20 left.

July 25:
Hi [Azz],

I wanted to let you know that [doctor] sent a refill of the [med] to the Costco!

[Discussion of discontinuing another med]

And can I just say how much I enjoy your MyChart messages; I am always impressed at how in tune you are with your body.

Take care,
[Nurse]

Me: It's time to renew my prior auth again, alas.

Nurse: Aw dang!
No worries though, you gave us time (thank you by the way).
I have asked our billing specialist to help with this so we will call the Costco when we get it and then let you know.
Thanks,
[Nurse]

About 17 left.

***

July 26: About 14 left.
July 27: About 11 left.

***

July 28
Different nurse:
Hi [Azz],

We needed a new prior authorization on [med]. We received approval for this over the weekend. However, Costco has been unable to get this medication to process. They are in the process of calling your insurance to figure out where the issue lies.

[Image of prior auth as sent to doctor]

I will keep you updated

Thanks,
[Nurse]

Me: Thanks for the update!

***

A hair bleaching, trip through the shower, and time to drip dry later, I figure I will call Costco pharmacy and see what they've discovered, since they're still open and the symptoms care office is not.

[Call time: 6 minutes 54 seconds]

***

Me: I talked with darling [Don't Panic Pharmacy Assistant] at the pharmacy, who had my back the last time UHC was like this, and we had a real good chat about the state of things at UHC, and she is putting me through for 12 days so I can have some breathing room while you and she go and wrestle alligators. I will get that picked up tonight and we'll see when UHC can be made to see the light.

I drive to the pharmacy.
I receive my jar.
I tell our friend that I was so glad it was her who picked up when I called.
Don't Panic Pharmacy Assistant tells me that when she took my call about the prior auth on my med, the rest of the pharmacy was looking at her funny, because she swapped registers straight out of professional. "Is that a family member on the phone?" And yet again we had words about United Healthcare. Also, the pharmacy we used to go to is shutting down; she has this from her friend and ours, the guy with the Emperor's New Groove pin. He prefers to stay with that company, so he's not coming to Costco.

***

About 8 left, plus 12 days.

The wall hanging actually arrived on Saturday and I promptly put it up. The white void is no longer and I noticed that right away. I've been sitting in my office for a couple of hours and no white void, no looming bookcase. Amazing! Awesome!

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Current Mood: thoughtful

As sent to my primary care, who I actually do like:

United Healthcare, in their omnibenevolent wisdom, sees fit to drop the One Touch Ultra from my preferred drug list as of September. They have offered several alternatives.

My primary goal with a glucometer is to not require a smartphone to do the simple task of marking whether any reading is before or after a meal. Out of their list of suggestions, the Contour Plus Blue meter meets my requirements and is not discontinued.

Joy. And happiness.

(This is the primary care who, upon learning which insurance I had, while we were trying to solve a problem, asked whether I was up to date on the then-recent news about their CEO, then said "You'd think they'd have learned their lesson." She's from Canada.)

[Edit: I am not currently in need of a CGM, I just want to be able to enter whether a reading is before or after a meal without involving an app.]

It's prompt Number 7 for the

sunshine_revival, and the carnival/fair theme continues, this time with one of the rides that you can usually see from a distance. (And one of the ones that always makes me nervous when it stops and I'm not on the ground.)

When I see this prompt I can't help but think about how what was once old is new again with the rise of neocities websites and newsletters becoming more prominent in fandom. Like a blast from the past, I'm finding character shrines, fanfic archives, game blogs, and maybe it's inspired me to make my own site as well c:

Whether you started with secret mailing lists or only discovered online fandom this year, we all have a journey to call our own. It only feels appropriate our last prompt of the month is...

Challenge #7:

The Ferris Wheel
Journaling: Life in fandom goes through ups and downs. Reminisce about the "wild ride" of your time in fandom or in other online communities.

Creative: Create an image or a photo with the theme "let's go for a ride".

( That which is old is new again. Often because the new has been disappointing. )

Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Music: Darren Korb - In the Darkness

Tags:

sunshine challenge: 2025

Well, on the plus side, there is noticeable difference in my legs. But that (plus all the other body changes have pointed up the size of my arms. Wow. I had no idea. Thankfully, dealing with them is the final surgery. And that might be January, not March. Dr. Surgeon made a change in his surgical plan with this last surgery, and we might be at five procedures not six. That would be astounding. Because then there's 2 months of 4 day a week MLD followed by cutting back on that (though, ostensibly, using the pump a bit, too) AND having time for a bit of PT.

SO. Still home in May (i.e. 7 months later than planned) but possibly looking like a very different human.

After Belovedest and I got our Home Depot errand finished, we went out to the car.

Belovedest: 6'4", white, short clipped brown hair, receding hairline, white Honeywell dome type N-95 mask, white T-shirt reading" Classically Trained" with a bunch of old-school video game controllers (but not any as old as the ones they started with), khaki colored cargo shorts, dark plastic slide type sandals.

Me: 5'6.5", white, shoulder length dark brown and variously blue fine 2c wavy hair held back with a grey rhinestone headband, violet eyeshadow with black liner behind blue frame rectangular glasses, black Breath of the Nature KF-94 mask, black chain necklace with spikes, silver star necklace, dark blue velour cardigan over a full length flowing embroidered black Holy Clothing dress, smartwatch with rainbow band, several medical bracelets and a medical necklace, some silver bangles with black, violet, and labradorite semiprecious gems, toeless black compression stockings, and a charcoal and violet pair of serious business support hiking sandals, just done driving a motorized grocery cart.

Him: sitting in his candy-colored Tesla, medium colored hair, with a full mountain man beard.

"You fuckin' weirdos," he muttered, deliberately loud enough to be heard inside the open windows of Belovedest's Toaster.

"Same to you, buddy!" I called as he started to pull out, waving my hand out the window.

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: 🎵🎶I wish that you would just leave 🎶🎵

TGIF. But I had to book an appointment to take my work laptop in to exchange it for a newer version and all of the appointments are at like 9:30am. It's horrifying but I will have to haul myself out of bed early next Wednesday to drop it off. It ususually takes them 3-4 hours to setup the new one, then I will need to trek back to campus to pick that up. Last time, I wound up calling them because something wouldn't work once I got it home. Hopefully I won't have to do that again.

~*~

I love having the bookcase 1) box no longer taking up space, 2) put together and in the office, and 3) having all the (non-library) books from the living room on it. But. I did not anticipate the way it makes the office feel closed in. Because of the peculiarities of the room, there's no other place to put it; it must stay where it is.

The bookcase is white and I very much regret not giving into the temptation to get the special edition blue-so-dark-it-was-almost-black version. It was a little more expensive and I was worried how it would look. But the color would've been really great. Alas.

The office door is very white. The over-the-door mirror frame is very off-white. It had been vaguely bothering me for a while, but with the bookcase next to the door, it was bugging the crap out of me. So I moved it to the inside of the door where it can't be seen as I keep the door open 99.99% of the time. But now there's this huge white void which really messes with my perception.

After a lot of searching online - and dear lord there is some hideous and hideously expensive decor out there - I found a small-ish wall tapestry (with hanging rod!) for under $12 including fees and shipping. Lots of blue, somewhat mountain-y and river-y, with a pop of gold sun. Minimal hanging fringe. (Why? Why so much fringe?) It will hopefully arrive on Monday. *fingers crossed* I've already got a gold-colored over-the-door hook in place for hanging purposes. The color should help with the white void.

I also pulled a couple of small pieces of framed art out of the closet and put them on the bookcase to give it some something. The books, largely being science texts from the 1930s-1960s, are rather blah to look at. Lots of brown, maroon, dark blue, and black. They help, a little.

This essay was alluded to and quoted from in several of the essays I read about Edna St. Vincent Millay. I correctly suspected I could find the journal issue (The Outlook, vol. 147 no. 10, 1927) on the Internet Archive, and I'm very glad I looked for it. Here's a couple-few excerpts.

This is also in reference to Sacco and Vanzetti.

( Read more... )

If I could meet one person from history I've always said it would be Millay, but right now I'm so enamored of her prose I can't even think what I'd say to her. To be able to write like that...!

Current Mood: thankful

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lit: edna st. vincent millay

Conscientious Objector

I shall die, but
that is all that I shall do for Death.
I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.
He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,
business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning.
But I will not hold the bridle
while he clinches the girth.
And he may mount by himself:
I will not give him a leg up.

Though he flick my shoulders with his whip,
I will not tell him which way the fox ran.
With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where
the black boy hides in the swamp.
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death;
I am not on his pay-roll.

I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends
nor of my enemies either.
Though he promise me much,
I will not map him the route to any man's door.
Am I a spy in the land of the living,
that I should deliver men to Death?
Brother, the password and the plans of our city
are safe with me; never through me
Shall you be overcome.

Current Mood: just getting started

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I posted "Justice Denied In Massachusetts" in poetry, and that led me into an absolute Millay spiral. (Also I ended up reading a few pieces like "On Edna St. Vincent Millay's 'Justice Denied in Massachusetts'", and I don't think I realized how many of the poems I already knew are Sacco and Vanzetti poems.)

I didn't feel like inflicting a whole bundle of Millay on everyone who reads poetry but I don't mind inflicting her on all of you. So here goes.

Two Sonnets In Memory

(Nicola Sacco—Bartolomeo Vanzetti)
Executed August 23, 1927

Ⅰ

As men have loved their lovers in times past
And sung their wit, their virtue and their grace,
So have we loved sweet Justice to the last,
That now lies here in an unseemly place.
The child will quit the cradle and grow wise
And stare on beauty till his senses drown;
Yet shall be seen no more by mortal eyes
Such beauty as here walked and here went down.
Like birds that hear the winter crying plain
Her courtiers leave to seek the clement south;
Many have praised her, we alone remain
To break a fist against the lying mouth
Of any man who says this was not so:
Though she be dead now, as indeed we know.

Ⅱ

Where can the heart be hidden in the ground
And be at peace, and be at peace forever,
Under the world, untroubled by the sound
Of mortal tears, that cease from pouring never?
Well for the heart, by stern compassion harried,
If death be deeper than the churchmen say,—
Gone from this world indeed what's graveward carried,
And laid to rest indeed what's laid away.
Anguish enough while yet the indignant breather
Have blood to spurt upon the oppressor's hand;
Who would eternal be, and hang in ether
A stuffless ghost above his struggling land,
Retching in vain to render up the groan
That is not there, being aching dust's alone?

Current Mood: melancholy

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Let us abandon then our gardens and go home
And sit in the sitting-room
Shall the larkspur blossom or the corn grow under this cloud?
Sour to the fruitful seed
Is the cold earth under this cloud,
Fostering quack and weed, we have marched upon but cannot
conquer;
We have bent the blades of our hoes against the stalks of them.

Let us go home, and sit in the sitting room.
Not in our day
Shall the cloud go over and the sun rise as before,
Beneficent upon us
Out of the glittering bay,
And the warm winds be blown inward from the sea
Moving the blades of corn
With a peaceful sound.

Forlorn, forlorn,
Stands the blue hay-rack by the empty mow.
And the petals drop to the ground,
Leaving the tree unfruited.
The sun that warmed our stooping backs and withered the weed
uprooted—
We shall not feel it again.
We shall die in darkness, and be buried in the rain.

What from the splendid dead
We have inherited —
Furrows sweet to the grain, and the weed subdued —
See now the slug and the mildew plunder.
Evil does overwhelm
The larkspur and the corn;
We have seen them go under.

Let us sit here, sit still,
Here in the sitting-room until we die;
At the step of Death on the walk, rise and go;
Leaving to our children's children the beautiful doorway,
And this elm,
And a blighted earth to till
With a broken hoe.

Tags:

author: edna st vincent millay

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Current Mood: melancholy

Here's where you can find me at the Seattle Worldcon, August 13-17, 2025!

Improbable Research Dramatic Readings
Wed 1:30pm-2:30pm, Terrace Suite (4F)
The Ig Nobel Prizes—and Improbable Research more generally—celebrate "research that makes people LAUGH… then THINK." Put another way, it celebrates the fun of science. In this panel, we will have dramatic readings of scholarly research articles that are new to the people reading them. The audience will then get to ask these "experts" about the papers they have presented. Hilarity, and then thinking, will ensue.
Mikołaj Kowalewski (M), Geri Sullivan, Liz Zitzow, E.A., Mason A. Porter, David D. Levine, Janice Gelb

Muppets, Puppets, and Marionettes
Wed 4:30pm-5:30pm, Room 343-344
We love bringing puppets into our movies and shows. What is the mystique? Why do we love them and how they can say what we can't.
David D. Levine (M), Andrew Penn Romine, Mary Robinette Kowal, Merav Hoffman, Sho Glick

Reading: David D. Levine
Wed 8:00pm-8:30pm, Room 428
I'll be reading from "Rust," a short story told from the perspective of an ASL-using enhanced chimp trying to survive in an abandoned undersea laboratory. It'll be appearing in the September/October issue of Analog.
David D. Levine (M)

The Short and Long of It: Short Fiction, Its Mutability, and How to Transform It
Thu 9:00am-10:00am, ACT Theatre (ConCurrent Seattle, a separate event)
A craft discussion about writing, editing, and publishing fiction at every length, and growing - or shrinking - the format. But how do you know how long a story should be? Are there tricks for coaxing out specific lengths for pieces? Panelists will discuss these questions and more.
Sam Asher (M), LaShawn Wanak, David D. Levine, AW Prihandita, Lauren Ring

Live Action Role Playing Around the World
Fri 3:00pm-4:00pm, Room 420-422
Live Action Roleplaying (aka LARP) takes the game off of the tabletop and brings it to life through acting, costuming and character. Explore how this unique approch to gaming has developed worldwide; from the ongoing sagas of USA LARPS, to the full-immersion weekends of European Larps, and beyond.
Eleri Hamilton (M), David D. Levine, Terilee Edwards-Hewitt, Vivian Abraham

Autographs
Sat 3:00pm-4:00pm, Garden Lounge (3F)
Ken Bebelle (M), Bethany Jacobs, Cecilia Tan, Christine Taylor-Butler, Ctein, D.L. Solum, Dan Moren, David D. Levine, Edward Martin III, Fonda Lee, Henry Lien, Nancy Kress, Robin Hobb, Sonia Orin Lyris

Do Androids Dream of AI Slop?
Sun 3:00pm-4:00pm, Room 322
What is artificial intelligence and how does it differ from the image and text generators that have proliferated over the past few years? Is science on the track to creating R. Daneel Olivaw, or is all of this a mirage?
Jon Lasser (M), Avani Vaghela, Chris Kulp, David D. Levine, Elektra Hammond

Yeah, I keep saying that, and it's never true.

Sunday night I had APPETITE. Like everything came roaring back in a way that, looking back, I can't remember for at least a couple years.

Monday I did ( insert medical activities here )

Then we went and got brunch at a decent deli conveniently located across the street from the doctor (I'd gotten takeaway from there before so already knew their latkes are GF and amazing; that no nightshades thing, I admit, goes out the window but what's with the thimbles of sour cream and applesauce?). Then to a Goodwill we'd seen a while back right near The Grove (our ostensible next destination) but we got glass so it was "book a Lyft to the Grove with a stop at home in the entirely opposite direction to drop that all off plus rollator". Then to The Grove, where much shopping and dining occurred (e.g., I have been missing having TY cards, stationery, etc. and lo, a Barnes and Noble appeared unto them).

Home more than 12 hours after we left. Certain parts of my body were more pleased about that than others but what struck me most was that I felt tired but not wiped out, and certainly not anemic. So I thought GREAT! I must be around 13. Apparently not, as the number was 12.1.

Yesterday was surgery. Lunch at deli again though body - which had been ALL PROTEIN ALL THE TIME - morphed into "Carbs and salad please!". I was stunned I wanted food at all, much less I was awake enough to eat but man, normalcy is my body's reaction to shock; collapse after. So slept at home then was awake but no brain.

Today I think is Wednesday Farmers Market and Capital One Café to deposit a check that I really would prefer go physically. Then post-surgical appointment including MLD and some wrapping. Then home to fall over.

Onwards.

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Crossposts: https://highlander-ii.insanejournal.com/466927.html http://highlander-ii.deadjournal.com/292599.html

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[fandom]: superior iron man

Alas, my agent Paul Lucas just moved to a new agency and decided not to take me with him. Can you recommend your agent, and are they perhaps looking for new clients?

While I'm looking for an agent, I'm going to be submitting my novel Vaudevaliens myself (to publishers who'll accept unagented submissions). Here's the pitch: "Two down-on-their-luck vaudevillians run into a couple of strange guys from way, way out of town. Together they will make it big on Broadway... or destroy the Earth." It's a standalone novel for adults, 81,000 words, and I'd say it's in the genre of "historical science fiction." I'm well aware of the major SF publishers, but if you know of any literature publisher (even small or medium-sized) who'd be willing to consider a historical novel with fantastic content, please let me know.

How Do They Do That?

Blink, and the World Changes

Last minute change of plans

Starlinography?

Another mom update argh

Prior Auth, my beloathéd

Wall hanging success!

note to self

Alas, new glucometer

Sunshine Revival/Challenge 2025 #7: The Journey

Life. Oy.

I put up my middle finger at him.

Decor needed

In a world more beautiful than this it would have mattered more.

Did you think I was done with Millay? I was not done.

Time to head for the best tasting poem you have. It's Millay Time.

Justice Denied In Massachusetts by Edna St. Vincent Millay

food surprises

My Worldcon schedule

Fast update

"The lab coat isn't fooling anyone, Larry."

Need a new agent

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