embracingcalm | Reading

Bc I’m ready.

If you want to try the Snowflake Challenge, don’t forget to subscribe to the community! It’s every odd-numbered day in January, and if you want to not forget, you can hit the “Track” link to get emails and notifications when the mods put up a post. Just … maybe don’t subscribe to track the comments? That would be like trying to drink from the email firehose, lol.

denise posting in

dw_maintenance

Привет and welcome to our new Russian friends from LiveJournal! We are happy to offer you a new home. We will not require identification for you to post or comment. We also do not cooperate with Russian government requests for any information about your account unless they go through a United States court first. (And it hasn't happened in 16 years!)

Importing your journal from ЖЖ may be slow. There are a lot of you, with many posts and comments, and we have to limit how fast we download your information from ЖЖ so they don't block us. Please be patient! We have been watching and fixing errors, and we will go back to doing that after the holiday is over.

I am very sorry that we can't translate the site into Russian or offer support in Russian. We are a much, much smaller company than LiveJournal is, and my high school Russian classes were a very long time ago :) But at least we aren't owned by Sberbank!

С Новым Годом, and welcome home!

lillilah

Well, our power's been out for a couple of hours. The whole area is down, but that means that people who speak Portuguese better than I do can call and complain. All my food was already cooked by the time everything shut down, so while it is a bit annoying, we aren't actually suffering. I can totally hang out, listen to my audiobook, and crochet or clean the tub by candlelight.

tsuki_no_bara

so this was a year, huh? some good things happened to me personally (i moved out and am now living by myself again, yay, and i got to go to iceland and greenland and canada) but politically it's just been a shitshow and i don't feel like recapping. if good things happened to you too i'm really happy for you! and hope you get more of the same! and if bad things happened i hope 2026 is a better year for you.

i still love where i live. i still like my family. i still think my friends are a bunch of fabulous weirdos and i'm glad to know you, as bad as i am about keeping in touch.

at the gate of the year, the god of doorways is chasing his tail.

if you're the last one out of 2025 lock the door so it can't escape. i'll see you on the other side. don't be late.

Current Mood: hopeful
Current Music: the twilight zone

asakiyume

Posting two days in a row, what?? Is this 2010?

But I wanted to share this quote from Zig Zag Claybourne's Breath, Warmth, and Dream, which I'm reading at a very leisurely pace:

"'There was once'--Orsys stopped to think--'that I taught a child queen to print her name in all the alphabets of her land.'"

Now that's a worthy thing for a child queen to learn. And after learning to write her name, she can learn to write the names of people who use these alphabets, can learn to conform her mouth to their names. But not all alphabets are human-made. Maybe the child queen also learned the alphabet of leaf miners, or the alphabet of animal tracks across a snowy field, or the alphabet of clam siphon holes in the sand.

What language and alphabet would you like to learn to write your name in?

badfalcon

I've missed blogging.

And I don’t mean that lightly. Blogging was a huge part of my identity in my twenties - LiveJournal, friends lists, comments that turned into conversations that turned into friendships. It was where I learned how to think in public, how to process, how to belong.

Which is… mildly horrifying, actually, because my twenties were a terrifyingly long time ago now.

snowflake_challenge starting tomorrow feels like the right moment to come back. Not to recreate old-school LJ (because time and the internet both move on), but to reclaim the part of me that likes having a home for my thoughts. A place that isn’t chasing reach or views or polish or relevance, that isn't a slave to an algorithm.

And if all I end up writing about is fanfiction and tennis and books and school? That’s fine. That is my life right now. Those were my LJ AND DW staples once upon a time too, just with different fandoms and different obsessions and the same intensity.

This is my Dreamwidth. It gets to be personal, fannish, repetitive, niche. It gets to be a place where I show up as I am, not as I think I should be.

So. Hello again. I’ve missed this. Let’s see where it takes me now.

Current Mood: nervous

soemand

A quiet evening by the fireplace offers steady warmth and soft light. A cat resting on your lap adds a simple, familiar weight. The room settles into an easy calm. Nothing dramatic happens; it’s just a straightforward moment of stillness, shaped by heat, quiet, and the presence of a content animal.

Current Music: Where I like to stand Vashti Bunyan

alasanon

It rained and Don was out of town, so it was me and my cat. Nona did Nona things, as she does, being a housecat.

I learned to make pasta in a skillet instead of a pot, and it was fantastic. I’ve done it again several times since. But otherwise, I sort of hibernated. The approach of the holidays barely made a dent. I did some scrambled last minute shopping sometime in here and some packages (slightly less last minute) arrived safely. But otherwise I was just at home, homing homily.

(These two are actual words but I am forcing them into memetic shapes)

Current Mood: Ka-KAW

alasanon

It was so wet through the early part of December, and even up to a couple of days ago. But the new year is promising brightness, and you know WHAT, I’ll take it. Any shred of sun in this climate is welcome.

—
It would have been his 55th birthday tomorrow. I only know it so immediately because it’s still on my calendar, and for that I actually blame Don. I never used to set the dates, only the days, but he likes to include as much data as he can in his contact info. This isn’t really important information to have anymore. He’s gone and fading slowly from the immediacy of his passing. Will I ever completely forget? No, probably not. He ate my life, after all, and those types of relationships retain importance even after the person has vanished, whether into a grave or simply away from you. I’ll never forget my mother’s birthday either (and with her, the other two incidentals) because she, too, ate a part of my life that I will never be able to regain.

alasanon

Solitude is persistent, I feel comfortable and easy alone (with my cat) on the couch. I’ve had more moments this year where I snuggled in, happiness curling around me, contentment and coziness, hygge in concept and practice.

But it doesn’t stick, it doesn’t last. All it takes is lifting my phone, checking the news, seeing one
more
post

I keep having these thoughts about aging being partly the practice of letting exhaustion override contentment. The more soothing you experience, the less you—- but that also feels like such a false god. There’s no getting beyond it and all comfort means no challenge, no life.

Is that a modernism? I feel somehow as though people in harder times would have sought it, called comfort the peak of their lives. Have we become so fully inundated with capitalism that we place work and suffering over joy (yes, the answer is yes, it’s become so obvious it crept into the mainstream and now even that has been fully co-opted.)

Current Mood: ugh

soemand

The sewn eye on my jib sheets has become one of those small upgrades that quietly transforms the sailing experience. By stitching a clean, reinforced loop directly into the red braided line, I’ve eliminated bulky knots and created a smoother, more reliable connection at the clew. The bright whipping adds strength and a touch of character, while the low‑profile loop glides effortlessly during every tack. It’s a simple refinement, but it reflects real care in rigging and a love for well‑made gear. Little details like this remind me how satisfying thoughtful seamanship can be.

The image shows a close-up of sailboat rigging at a marina. Two red braided ropes are secured with bright yellow whipping twine at their ends, a technique used to prevent fraying and reinforce the rope. These ropes are connected to a white braided rope tied in a knot, which is fastened to a sail through a metal grommet. In the background, wooden dock planks and several moored boats are visible, indicating a peaceful marina setting. The image highlights practical nautical craftsmanship and ropework detail.

debussy

on the cusp of a new year, I find myself spending an evening in quiet contemplation reflecting upon the past 12 months.

a year spent in what feels like mostly a haze, a strange fever dream in which I was consumed with feelings that burned hotter than the sun but faded to nothing almost as quickly as it came, the shellshock like emotional whiplash, having me questioning whether any of it was ever real at all.

a year spent of yearning, yearning, yearning, following me to the other side of the world, pulling on my heartstrings, pushing me to make wildly spontaneous love-affirming decisions on a random night in florence. I regret it as much as I don't. how could you ever regret going to great lengths to see someone that you love? but I regret it, I regret it, I regret it and I fear that this fear will carry on with me in every relationship that I have moving forward; the fear of hurting someone that you care for because you can't meet them halfway in a multitude of ways, from age difference to our places in life to general interest in each other. he was such a kind soul but innocent in a way that I haven't been since too long ago, and awfully naive to the intricacies and complexities of life and time and distance and soul, even. in kinder words, sweet; in harsher ones, boring. I blame myself, my Achilles heel that is my ability to tunnel vision, and my awful lack of foresight into clearly seeing the things that would never work between us.

I'm always brash and impulsive when it comes to feelings of affection and expressing them, and I've been trying to figure out why that is and where it all started. maybe it started with B, with the way my feelings lingered for so long without me ever expressing them. just me, waiting endlessly for him to see me, really see me, and see that I wanted to stand with him by his side forever. and then the way that he could never really truly see me, the way that after almost a year of being together he couldn't find it in his heart to love me. and the way that stung like nothing else I'd ever felt before. my first real love being an unrequited love, and the painful disappointment that followed that.

maybe it started with M, the way that I was pushed to confess to him that I felt some type of way about him, only a few weeks after breaking it off with B. I did have a crush on him but maybe it was too soon; I had no time to truly grieve what I had with B. but what we did have turned into real, genuine, warm love, and a lot of things that I love today are a result of us being together. my time with him is a precious memory. and when it ended because of my cursed wandering eye, I once again had no time to process the death of Us.

I realize that I operate in cycles. I've said it time and time again - a spark, burst into flame. but that flame always fizzes out with time, and I find myself moving on, maybe too quickly, to that next spark. and it's happening to me again, and I'm fearful of it for all the reasons above, but I want to allow myself the space to talk about it because I need to properly process what it is that I've been feeling these days.

I like him. I like the way that it truly feels like we are on the same frequency. similar interests. similar taste. similar sense of humor. similarly stupid. similarly well spoken. I realize that our interests and experiences are generational in some ways, but it still feels like there's something there that binds us together. it's not aggressive, it's not painful, it's just simply existing there in the space between us peacefully. I like the way he teases and flirts with me. I like the way he is forthcoming but soft all the same. he makes my heart warm. he feels like my soulmate. the thought of which brings tears to my eyes, because how many times have I felt that before? how many times has that brought upon pain to both myself and the person next to me?

I adore him all the same, and I'm happy to just have him in my life in some capacity. which in hindsight is crazy because I hated him when I first interacted with him. but that's as much a dream now as all the rest of these dreams, and all I can feel right now is that I want to talk to him about everything and nothing at all. I want to be with him in any way that matters, and if I have learned anything over the years, it is that love between friends is as impactful as love between lovers. so I will take it easy this time with this crush; this one does not have to be the end of the world. maybe I can just let it be and see where it goes. I know my heart will yearn because that is what she is wont to do, but maybe I can just let her without having to act on an impulse. just appreciate what you have, katherine. deep breaths, in and out. if it truly matters, it will stay with you.

aozora_in_exile

Если признаться честно, то Телеграм -- отстойный продукт. Потому что в нем смешаны в кучу разные функционалы, и оттого все плохи.
Мессенджер -- это то, что быстро отправляет короткие сообщения единственному получателю или ограниченной группе. Критично, что люди получают уведомления о получении немедленно и не пропускают сообщения. Совершенно нормально, что людям доступны телефонные номера и приватные данные своих контактов.
Лента новостей и архив статей -- кардинально иной формат. Лонгриды обязаны быть доступны с ПК, у них должна быть сложная верстка для читабельности. А также постраничный показ и сложный поиск, например, по дате или по периоду времени. И отнюдь не всегда хочется светить свои данные всем подряд -- ладно, от платформы данные не скрыть, но не быть же доступным для поиска всем окрестным спамерам?!
Про то, как там реализованы комментарии, я даже начинать не буду.
Телеграм пошел по пути "вы не умеете настраивать группы" вместо того, чтобы признать, что разделение настолько разных функционалов должно было идти из коробки. Если мне нужно рассортировать тысячи своих личных/рабочих контактов и пару сотен каналов, а потом всем им настроить кастомные уведомления, да еще повторять процедуру каждый раз при добавлении нового контакта -- то это очень большой косяк продукта. Настолько, что для меня это шоу-стоппер: почти каждый канал использует кросс-постинг на предназначенные для видео/лонгридоы платформы. И почти каждый человек имеет альтернативный месседжер.
Основная причина популярности Телеграма -- это выход из российского инфополя конкурентов и насильственный перевод туда аудитории.

endotoxin

Loot from Philly. Last month I took a walk to Zipperhead. But instead I stopped in the South Street Art Mart and got a whole bunch of great stickers and pins. (Just posting this here to see if I can use another website for photo hosting.)

Imagine, having to host and link to an image instead of social media doing all the embedding for you. How novel!

Current Mood: cynical

endotoxin

Man, I really miss blogging. The internet is such a festering hole of poison and bad vibes it's hard to wanna engage. I'm really just leaning into building up the back yard garden and watching the news with quiet despair, but this site really conjures up memories of the Good Ol' Days (tm).
I don't have enough followers on here to really attract my attention. My personal journal isn't even computerized at this point, but all the same, it feels good writing something on a tiny corner of the web that doesn't still suck. I wrote a letter and sent it out to friends this year. That also felt nice. I miss being able to create things and feel good after having created them.

Hard to feel that pull when AI shitbots are hoovering up content in 6 different directions.

Current Mood: melancholy

asakiyume

The checkout line at this Walmart was going to be very slow: ahead of us were four grown-ish children and their mom, and their cart was packed to overflowing.

“How about you bring the car around for my dad,” I suggested. “You guys wait, and I’ll text when I’m through.” My husband nodded, and the two of them headed out.

Between me and the family with the packed cart was an older couple; behind me was a younger couple. All of us had just a few things—I had a laundry basket, a bathroom scale, and a shower curtain for my dad’s new living situation.

Lining the checkout alley were tempting items to impulse purchase: Goya adobo seasoning, both con and sin pimienta, Goya canned beans, Jarritos sodas, Sanchis Mira Turrón de Alicante—nougat candy from Alicante, Spain. We who were waiting had a long time to contemplate these items. The couple ahead of me grabbed a shaker of adobo seasoning. The couple behind put a couple of the sodas in their cart. I stared at the nougat candy. Would it be like torrone, the Italian version of nougat candy that my grandmother used to have? That candy came in small boxes with pictures of famous sites in Italy or of women in traditional regional dress.

I added a package of the candy to my cart. The family with the very full cart was through; the older couple ahead of me were putting their items on the conveyor belt.

“Necesitan bolsas?” the cashier asked. No, they didn’t need any bags. The cashier wished them a Feliz Navidad, and it was my turn.

“Hi, how are you, you want the shower curtain and the scale in the laundry basket?” the cashier asked. She wished me happy holidays and switched smoothly back to Spanish for the couple behind me.

Sanchis Mira Turrón de Alicante turned out to have the same flavor but a completely different texture from the Italian torrone my grandmother used to get. The Italian torrone was thickly chewy, a workout for the jaw; the turrón was hard and broke into dangerous sugar splinters. Ah well. Maybe I’ll have better luck with my next impulse purchase.

Current Music: Rio Mira: Adios Morena

lillilah

I'm sick. It is the season for it. I had my flu shot, and the covid test says that it isn't covid. Hopefully, I'll recover quickly.

aozora_in_exile

Я немного отошла от шока, когда без всякого предупреждения вдруг обнаружила, что больше не могу писать в ЖЖ. И имею, что сказать:
1) я способна понять, что администрация подобными мероприятиями решает свои проблемы, а именно, приводит платформу в соответствие требованиям РФ, в юрисдикции которой находится, и упрощает себе жизнь, убирая ботов и аккаунты-однодневки, но можно же это было делать как-то почеловечнее и поумнее?! Тупой непродуманный фильтр по соцкапиталу заставил замолчать массу прекрасных людей, которые писали душевные посты об их повседневной жизни для друзей. Их больше нет в моей ленте, а кто-то успел удалить свои журналы. Именно эта душевная атмосфера и была для меня ценной.
А ведь было можно:
- дать возможность выбора между СберID, VK ID, YandexID;
- устанавливать личность по номеру телефона;
- оповестить людей заранее и дать время на переход.
То, что это не было сделано, выглядит для меня прямым саботажем и целенаправленным изгнанием нероссийской аудитории.
2) ЖЖ последовательно делал ставку на более крупных авторов и генерацию трафика, чем убивал ту самую атмосферу междусобойчика, ради которой тут изначально собрались старожилы. Генерация контента ради его количества -- это по умолчанию генерация иусорного контента вроде гороскопов и марафонов. И очень, очень жаль, что руководство ЖЖ выбрало настолько тупой KPI.
3) платформа -- это, конечно, не то же самое, что свой отдельно стоящий блог. Приходя на платформу, блогер заключает некий социальный контракт. Он получает от платформы коммьюнити и ресурсы и платит за это определенной несвободой в том, какие решения о развитии принимают разработчики платформы. Но наивно думать, что у платформы нет обязательств перед тысячами пользователей, которые голосуют ногами.

К сожалению, ЖЖ крайне дискредитировал себя в моих глазах, и ради безопасности контента я приняла решение о переезде.
1) dzen.ru/aozora -- здесь будут появляться публичные записи вроде рецептов выпечки или то, что я связала и вышила.
2) aozora-in-exile.dreamwidth.org -- более личный и в основном закрытый блог.
Многоуважаемый sverc оплатил мне российскими рублями профессиональный аккаунт на следующий год, чем позволил сгладить переходную фазу. По окончании этого переходного периода ЖЖ будет удален.

flamingsword

Finally having a chance to sit down, and may actually need a nap if I’m going to be around people later. I’ve been fairly busy for 5 hours and have given myself a headache by unconsciously sitting and standing and working on things all hunched over.

I think I’m going to crochet a couple rows on this rug to calm my brain down and then lay down for an hour.

Merry Crisis to all who celebrate!

[Edit: “Family Christmas™️” has gone off fairly well. I still have a headache, but at least I’m having it in a dim, quiet environment? Food was delicious, at any rate.]

soemand

The shortwave oddity UVB‑76 — The Buzzer — has always thrived on mystery, but nothing delights listeners more than its rare bursts of unexpected audio. When the station suddenly drifted from its trademark buzz into Swan Lake, the internet lit up. Radio enthusiasts weren’t the only ones paying attention. Even finance‑sector analysts, always hunting for unusual geopolitical signals, took notice. In a world where markets react to satellite shadows and shipping noise, a Cold War‑era station playing Tchaikovsky becomes another strange data point worth watching.

“Swan Lake” just played on the Doomsday radio station🎶

UVB-76, known as the Buzzer or the Doomsday station, is a mysterious shortwave broadcast that has been on the air since the 1970s.

Its purpose has never been officially explained, and conspiracy theorists spend hours… pic.twitter.com/cCNhXFhhhJ
— NEXTA (@nexta_tv) December 30, 2025

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Page generated Jan. 1st, 2026 04:04 am

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embracing_calm

Reading

Y’all ready for Snowflake?

Привет! LiveJournal imports may be slow

No power

cross your fingers for a better year

all the alphabets of her land

coming back (again)

Sleepy cat

This week I stayed in.

Rain, rain no thunder, only puddles.

I was quiet, letting things go by (tears in rain mix)

Sewn Eye

2025: in reflection

Феномен популярности Телеграма

Testing embeds

Hello again

impulse purchase

Sick

На злобу дня

(no subject)

When The Buzzer Dances: UVB‑76, Swan Lake, and the Finance World’s Sudden Curiosity

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