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therealsnape) wrote2010-10-14 05:47 pm
therealsnape) wrote2010-10-14 05:47 pm
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Two recs and a whinge
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minerva_fest on a daily RSI-from-refresh-clicking base, here are two recs. I'm rather late to join the rec'cing fun, but my, it's busy. A Minerva story a DAY! I'm used to about one every few weeks, and a rec-worthy one every month or so. Keeping up with the reading-and-commenting is quite a job.
And RL rears its head, too. Lots of work, lots of things I ought to do but procrastinate over, and an unavoidable meeting with my dentist this morning. Quite a nice fellow, I must give him that. If you'd meet him at a party, you'd never think he was a dentist. And this morning, too, he was quite cheerful. I less so. The verdict is that it'll hurt like hell end of November (root canal), a bit less two weeks later (fitting jacket), and like hell again on the as yet unspecified date when I receive and open the bill.
And, to add insult to injury, that molar broke down while I was at a dinner. Really! That's twice in a row. Last social event got me a cold, this one a root canal. And it was a walking dinner, too, which made me wonder whether that is a local invention, or whether other parts of the globe suffer as well under this latest, misguided idea of fun.
For those unfamiliar with the ridiculous notion: it's not a dinner where the food is in such an advanced state of mouldiness that it walks on its own, nor is it along the lines of "Can one eat off the floor, here?" "Yes, there's plenty."
The idea is, rather, that you don't do what is normal and (depending on company) fairly pleasant, i.e. to sit down together and share a meal. Instead you're supposed to walk and mingle, while tiny tidbits are served on very small plates with insufficient cutlery. One is then supposed to balance glass and plate, and eat the lot somehow. Or stand at a high-ish table with a few others while trying to murder a wrap with a cake-fork.
I mean, even in the days when the hunter-gatherers roamed the earth, it was generally understood that while collecting the food brought an inevitable amount of physical exercise, eating it was best done sitting round a cosy fire in a flatteringly-lit cave. I hate walking dinners. There's another one coming up in December, and I have to attend it.
As you can see, I'm my usual Snapish self, today. Blame the dentist. Oh, and the icon should read "but me and my lovely flist".
But let's have some fun as well. After all, life, or at least LJ, has its compensations, and well-written Kittyhawk definitely is one. So is Amelia/Minerva. And here's a story that has it all: The Thermodynamics of the Moka Pot. It's a completely believable, beautifully written story of Minerva and Rolanda, Minerva and Amelia, Minerva and the Moka Pot, Rolanda and her Broom, and much more. And it has a red-hot sex scene. And a stream of invective that'll have you scream with laughter. Merlin-in-Lavender, indeed!
Stunningly well-written, all of it.
One teaser: Amelia Bones was united with her job in blissful matrimony. Everything else was affairs.
And then there's another one, The Conference.
It has it all: the endless meetings, the insufficient breakfast buffet, the rooms with matching curtains, the pointless "discussion parts", and my two favourite INTJ's to enjoy it.
Teaser: "Look at them! They'd kill me! Or worse, talk to me." Sums it up. And no, it wasn't a walking dinner, but poor Severus still suffered.
minerva_fest on a daily RSI-from-refresh-clicking base, here are two recs. I'm rather late to join the rec'cing fun, but my, it's busy. A Minerva story a DAY! I'm used to about one every few weeks, and a rec-worthy one every month or so. Keeping up with the reading-and-commenting is quite a job. And RL rears its head, too. Lots of work, lots of things I ought to do but procrastinate over, and an unavoidable meeting with my dentist this morning. Quite a nice fellow, I must give him that. If you'd meet him at a party, you'd never think he was a dentist. And this morning, too, he was quite cheerful. I less so. The verdict is that it'll hurt like hell end of November (root canal), a bit less two weeks later (fitting jacket), and like hell again on the as yet unspecified date when I receive and open the bill.
And, to add insult to injury, that molar broke down while I was at a dinner. Really! That's twice in a row. Last social event got me a cold, this one a root canal. And it was a walking dinner, too, which made me wonder whether that is a local invention, or whether other parts of the globe suffer as well under this latest, misguided idea of fun.
For those unfamiliar with the ridiculous notion: it's not a dinner where the food is in such an advanced state of mouldiness that it walks on its own, nor is it along the lines of "Can one eat off the floor, here?" "Yes, there's plenty."
The idea is, rather, that you don't do what is normal and (depending on company) fairly pleasant, i.e. to sit down together and share a meal. Instead you're supposed to walk and mingle, while tiny tidbits are served on very small plates with insufficient cutlery. One is then supposed to balance glass and plate, and eat the lot somehow. Or stand at a high-ish table with a few others while trying to murder a wrap with a cake-fork.
I mean, even in the days when the hunter-gatherers roamed the earth, it was generally understood that while collecting the food brought an inevitable amount of physical exercise, eating it was best done sitting round a cosy fire in a flatteringly-lit cave. I hate walking dinners. There's another one coming up in December, and I have to attend it.
As you can see, I'm my usual Snapish self, today. Blame the dentist. Oh, and the icon should read "but me and my lovely flist".
But let's have some fun as well. After all, life, or at least LJ, has its compensations, and well-written Kittyhawk definitely is one. So is Amelia/Minerva. And here's a story that has it all: The Thermodynamics of the Moka Pot. It's a completely believable, beautifully written story of Minerva and Rolanda, Minerva and Amelia, Minerva and the Moka Pot, Rolanda and her Broom, and much more. And it has a red-hot sex scene. And a stream of invective that'll have you scream with laughter. Merlin-in-Lavender, indeed!
Stunningly well-written, all of it.
One teaser: Amelia Bones was united with her job in blissful matrimony. Everything else was affairs.
And then there's another one, The Conference.
It has it all: the endless meetings, the insufficient breakfast buffet, the rooms with matching curtains, the pointless "discussion parts", and my two favourite INTJ's to enjoy it.
Teaser: "Look at them! They'd kill me! Or worse, talk to me." Sums it up. And no, it wasn't a walking dinner, but poor Severus still suffered.