Insomnia

Feb. 8th, 2010 01:41 am
tysolna: (Default)

Having an ipod with science programs is great when you're lying in bed at one thirty at night and can't fall asleep. At least you're feeding your head.

tysolna: (doctor nowai)
Imagine having written a piece of music that practically everyone knows, that is probably the world's most played tune, yet most people have never heard of you or know that said tune was composed by you - or even the tune's name.

The tune I am talking about is Francisco Tárrega's Gran Vals, specifically the first twelve notes; and you can hear it every time a Nokia phone rings.

I think that Tárrega rotating in his grave could be a major source of electrical power.
tysolna: (dog tired)
Yo, y'all,

I'm still around. It's been a rather busy week, and reading and writing intensively for most of the day sort of makes you not want to write a diary in the evening. Especially when stories want to be written as well.

Since my last entry, there was music (Beethoven, "Missa Solemnis", live, in a church); dinner with friends (I cooked, and my friends ate with apparent relish - and no leftovers) ; a surprisingly fun evening out with my still-colleagues (leaving that job at the end of the year); catfights (our cat has a torn ear and an infection under his right front paw - we'll see the vet next week); the back-pedalling of our guitarist (although frankly, this is the absolute last chance he'll get); and our christmas cookies are all but gone.

That should just about wrap up this week.

[livejournal.com profile] idahoswede, thank you for the lovely Christmas card. I hope the same - and we will! I still owe you a drink.

[livejournal.com profile] neddy_l, thank you for the Christmas card. Fantastic - I needed that laugh! And thanks also for the package. Rest assured that something will find its way to your place (relatively) soon.

Speaking of Christmas cards - I may be getting around to writing some this weekend, but please, don't count on it. This doesn't mean that I don't think of you.

You might get Happy February Cards, though. ;)
tysolna: (highland fling)
I've noticed this before, but since it's close to Christmas these tv ads are on more and more, and I just have to ask - what is it with men and their razors?
The ads for razors are more high-tech than the ads for cars. Sharper! More blades! Smoother! With vibration (not kidding)! All done in tasteful black and silver, giving the impression of precision and speed and care, and the newest technology available for the best shaving experience ever. There's even some sci fi imagery in some ads.
And I think to myself, this is a tool to remove unwanted facial hair. Why are they advertising it like that? Must be a male thing - so if the males on my reading list could elucidate me, I'd be very grateful. And if the females have theories, feel free to chip in. ;)
tysolna: (penguin punk)
I wish I knew what I did wrong yesterday so I can avoid it in the future. Whatever it was, it resulted in the first ever full-blown migraine attack since well over a year. I had almost forgotten what it felt like, too, so I didn't take the meds in time, didn't fall asleep until three, and woke up a few minutes after the book I needed to bring back before ten today started being late. Bugger.
Also, the weather is dismal, and the cat peed on the couch.
If that's any indication of how this week will be like, I'll be in bed with the covers over my head.
tysolna: (starhair)
I hope I'm not jinxing this by telling you about it, but ever since I lost my watch, I keep finding things. A bronze brooch, a pendant (though I don't know if that counts since our singer N. lost that five minutes before I found it), a cloisonné bracelet, small amounts of money - coins, mostly, but once a five euro bill which was just lying there on the road. Poetic justice, or simply the universe trying to redistribute matter?
tysolna: (lazy woman)
Medusa:
The problem which, when we turn our mind to it, paralyses us.

Scylla and Charybdis:
Having to navigate between two people / demands so that neither claims our whole attention or destroys us.

Siren:
Those things that lure us away from that which we should be doing. They come in all manners of guises - most often in the little voice that says, "Why not?"

Hydra:
Every question, once answered, begets two more questions.

Gay Rights

Oct. 3rd, 2006 01:12 pm
tysolna: (alte rose)
"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"
Ernest Gaines

We would like to know who really believes in gay rights on LiveJournal. There is no bribe or a miracle or anything like that. If you truly believe in gay rights, then repost this and title the post as "Gay Rights". If you don't believe in gay rights, then just ignore this. Thanks.


Thanks, [livejournal.com profile] dadi. I keep asking myself this, too.

edit: By the way, and it's not like you didn't know this, dear readership, I also support queer rights, male rights, female rights, child rights, the rights of indigenous peoples, flora rights, fauna rights, the right of free speech, the right to disagree intelligently, the right to be whoever and whatever you choose to be and to do if it harms none, and the right to post memes.

Just in case. ;)
tysolna: (vampire squirrel)
Last night, the assembled hordes of Ghenghis Khan, reborn as a very aggressive gnat, turned me into a human pincushion to satisfy an enormous hunger.
All summer long, not one mosquito bite. Last night, at least seven, probably more. And the late mozzies have the strongest venom - there are huge welts on my body and face and I itch all over.
This will be one hell of an interesting day.
tysolna: (throwing stones)
Why do we put so little value in the acoustics of the things we create?
Yes, I know, humans are primarily visual creatures. Still, I wish we would not only put thought into how our machines look like, but also what they sound like. Or rather, that they make less, or less annoying, noise.
Cars, for example. We want our cars to look good, and emit little to no exhaust fumes. In fact, exhaust fumes have been for quite some time an environmental health issue.
One car company - I forget which one - actually advertises on TV with a car that is so silent inside that children fall asleep, and grandfather wonders if the car is actually on. The outside visuals of the car on the other hand include not only a speedy driving, but also a loud vrooming motor sound. So, the drivers themselves are saved from the noise their own car makes. But what about pedestrians, cyclists, other drivers, or people living in the houses the car passes?
There is a lot of noise pollution, not only from cars, but also from all kinds of machines and appliances. Lawn mowers, bread cutters, washing machines, and other such tools. Let alone the peacock feathers of loud car stereos which make the rear windows of the cars vibrate with the beat.

I don't think that the engineers and designers couldn't muffle the noise, say, a lawnmower makes, if they wanted to and if there were a demand for it.
Does the loudness of machinery really equal power in some part of our brain that has been educated during the industrial revolution? And wouldn't it be nice if we could learn otherwise?
tysolna: (alte rose)
According to Wikipedia, a hundred years ago today Mahatma Gandhi started the Non-Violence movement.
tysolna: (breaking through)
Some people are saying that all I use this journal for is for fussing and moaning. Not so! It's only easier to fuss and moan and complain, people always like to do that, share the fuss, so to speak.
I could now fuss about young Paris Hilton clones on the bus home, who like to show off their appendix scars to the whole wide world - I do believe the term "chav" might be applicable here. I could fuss about the fact that a book I had intended to study is missing twelve pages; they were cut out of the book. How someone can mutilate a book such is beyond me; how someone can be spiteful enough to take a chapter away from the rest of the students dito.

However, I shall fuss about none of these things; rather, I will tell you that I did get to sleep last night after all, even if it took me some time; that I then had a very strange dream involving green goo taking over people and the crew of the Firefly (or is it Serenity?); that it is a wonderfully perfect weather outside, even though I just heard thunder and it's starting to rain; that I am getting things done again after a weekend's rest which did me a world of good; that I managed to return books without having to pay a fee; and that I met with my PhD Prof and talked to her for about an hour, with promises that will be kept in two weeks, fingers crossed.

If this day is an indication of the oncoming week, then bring it on!
tysolna: (penguin punk)
As I was walking to work this morning, a dove fell on my head.

I'm serious.

I got off the bus, crossed the street, walked below a line of trees, and pow! Dove on my head. I think the poor thing was as surprised as I was, if not more. I suppose that when you're a bird and used to being able to fly, falling out of a tree is a tad surprising.
From my head, it fell to the pavement, shook itself, and hobbled off to hide underneath a nearby magazine rack. It didn't so much look hurt as stunned, or maybe embarrassed. I brushed off my hair - luckily, the dove was too surprised to leave a lasting mark on my hairdo - and went on my way, already being late for work.

Imagine, though. What are the chances of having a dove fall on your head? Is this some kind of omen?
tysolna: (omgwtfcookies!!)
I may not be a Polymath, but I certainly am polycurious. Of course, there are things that wouldn't interest me at first glance - chartered accountancy, for instance - but I am sure that there are things that would at some point of my life be interesting to me, and that I would want to learn about. I think my favourite question is still "why", closely followed by "how". The "random page" feature at Wikipedia is a source of endless fascination to me, even though it occasionally gives me a lot of towns in the US.
One of the problems arising out of being polycurious is that more often than not I lose sight of what I am supposed to be doing and grab something else instead: "Ooh, shiny!" I then have to force myself to stick to the job at hand and drop the "Become a Magician in six easy lessons"-handbook. I have the attention span of a cat - I can focus intently on a metaphorical mouse until the perfect time to pounce has come, but I can also be distracted by any pretty butterfly that flutters past. And like a cat, I have a long-term memory that leaves something to be desired. Perfect recall it isn't.

I've just been distracted by the first Harry Potter book which I am re-reading after a rather long time. It's interesting to see how much forshadowing there is in the first four chapters of the first book alone, and re-reading all the books will probably give me a lot of theories on what will happen next. Totally unneccessary, of course, but you never know when this might come in handy.
But I still prefer Diane Duane's "Young Wizard"-series to Harry Potter.
tysolna: (tree hug)
Maybe I should make myself a biorhythm-type thing, because I notice definite phases between reading mode and writing mode. At the moment, I am in reading mode, devouring all kinds of books and written works like there's no tomorrow. But early this morning, still lying in bed (for a given value of "early"; it's Sunday, after all), my mind began constructing sentences again, so I guess writing mode is just around the corner.
I also think that when I start writing again, I will start with longhand, just so I don't forget how to write. In these days of computer keyboards, who is still sitting down and actually writing something with pen and paper? But someone who bakes her own bread, makes her own bath bombs, and knits stuff should still be able to write by hand.
Mass-production, globalization, a Maccy D's at every corner of the world? It's no wonder we cherish the home-made, self-made, hand-made, individual things in life. Even if bread could be gotten cheaper at the shops, and even if one sleeve is slightly longer than the other.

Albatross!

May. 4th, 2006 10:41 am
tysolna: (stack of books)
How strange is that... I'm at work again, that is, the work I had to do today is done and the tape is whirring away digitizing Coleridge, and I've used the net access not only to do some research, but also get a handful of free Tarot readings because it's spring and I felt like it.
And in three out of four readings, on different pages, the same card turns up in the "self"-position: the Nine of Swords. Coincidence?

It's brilliant sunshine out there today, and warm, and my brain feels like a dried-out sponge waiting for information it can soak up. The thought of books and libraries and my bookshelves at home makes me giddy. All that knowledge on the ledges! Read, read, read!

Oh, yeah, lest I forget: The gig on the 30th was very much OK. We played until we dropped, almost literally, because they didn't want to let us go - we started at nine, playing a set on the hour until two in the morning. Six sets. And we only have 25 songs, which means that the more party-oriented rocking ones were played three times at least. I agree with our bass player that it will be some time until I want to play those songs again, as much fun to play as they are.
I hope the recordings that were made last week on Thursday and Sunday are of good quality, because I promised a few people I'd send them copies. Fingers crossed!

Here's another coincidence for you: Today's featured article on Wikipedia is about the Albatross; the Coleridge playing at the moment is Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Ah, I love humans, always seeing patterns in things that aren't there.

PS: Would I be completely off my rocker to want to hear Coleridge read by Tom Baker or Brian Blessed?
tysolna: (starhair)
Through the open windows, smells of burning wood drift in. Easter bonfires in the garden next to ours light up the night. The smell of burning wood reminds me of so many things, the old stoves in my grandmother's house, night trips through the woods as a kid, roasting marshmallows over an open fire on some camping ground in Nevada.

Smells are funny things, they seem to have a direct uplink to your memory. Sometimes, this direct uplink seems to bypass one's own memories and head straight for ancient subconscions recollections. Take the smell of freshly-baked bread. I heard recently that a trick to sell a house is to have the smell of freshly-baked bread in it, as it evokes feeling of comfort and home. Try walking past the open door of a bakery without unconsiously smiling at the smell.
Smell is a much-neglected sense. We focus on vision, hearken to hearing, but smell? Yet, there are pleasant smells that we remember or actively seek out. The smell of cooking, of flowers, or incense, the scent of your lover on last night's bed sheets, perfume - do you remember the smell of a close person's perfume, or hand cream? Do you walk along, and are suddenly stopped by a smell which you know, but can't remember why?

The smell from outside has changed; someone is holding sausages on a stick into the fire. And this smell makes me hungry. I'm off to catch me a woolly mammoth.
tysolna: (justify)
This post was brought on by a friend being censored in an online place, and the resulting comments to his lj post, and was written while my body was spring cleaning the house.

Every once in a while, especially when I've been away and / or not updating regularly, I get to thinking about this blog (Journal? Whatever.) of mine, why I write in it, and what I write about.

cut for Do ya really wanna read this? Do ya, punk? )

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