LJ Tos Changes - Poll

  • Apr. 10th, 2020 at 3:55 PM
LJ recently moved it's servers to Russia and changed it's Terms of Service. There's an article on Gizmodo here and on another site here. I've had some people ask if we are going to move the Comm to another site. At the moment, no we don't. But I wanted to get opinions on the matter.

[Poll #2066125]
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quick update

  • Jul. 24th, 2017 at 8:29 AM
am working on Vividcon plans. we just spent 4 days trying to trap an injured feral cat on our property (we were successful. or rather all the people who did the work were. I was cheerleading and getting sunburned) so we've fallen waaaaay behind.  and today we are off to see a specialist that we've been trying to see for 10 months (he travels doing medical research). and [personal profile] xlorp is in the midst of emergency coverage for 2 co-workers who are out on family leave/vacation. and....



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Rest, Also a Thing I Need

  • Jul. 24th, 2017 at 12:57 PM

Posted by E.H.

I got home last night and stepped across the threshold still feeling a fairly firm commitment to work on my list of things to do. Moving in isn’t completed, really, until everything on the list is done. I sat and stared blankly at that list for a while. I had a shower. I came back to the list. I sat quietly awhile longer.

I mostly just sat quietly for rather a long while. I wasn’t even meditating, just… sitting. I found myself so disinclined to actually do anything that it was a major effort to figure out salad and a glass of water. It felt like real work to write an email to a dear friend. I did more sitting.

At some point it dawned on me (because even my thinking felt seriously slowed down) that I must actually just be that tired. As in, needing rest. Real rest. Not “failed action” or succumbing to exhaustion, but actual self-care-involving real legitimate uncompromised rest.

My evening became a lavish delight of the restful variety; I relaxed and looked out over the deck from my air conditioned vantage point. I watched fish swim in the aquarium. I read awhile – a favorite fiction novel that I can quite contentedly pick up or put down any time, at any point in the story, and enjoy myself quite thoroughly. Even meditation seemed like more effort than I could comfortably manage, yesterday evening, so I simply took gentle care of this fragile vessel and enjoyed a quiet evening of… quiet. I even went to bed a little early. It is telling of how much I did need some real rest that I fell asleep almost immediately, in spite of the earliness of the hour, and slept straight through to my alarm clock going off in the morning, quite dreamlessly.

At some point, much earlier in the day yesterday, I enjoyed a long phone call with my Traveling Partner. He’ll be heading home soon, and I will see him, and he will see the new place, and then – Β far sooner than ideal, I’m sure – he’ll head out for the next thing out there on the future’s horizon. I’m eager to see him. Hell, I’m excited for him about the next adventure, too, although it will take him some distance away for a time. Neither the distance nor the time seem to undermine our connection. (There are verbs involved there, of course, and practices for maintaining emotional intimacy, managing self-care, and avoiding needless drama – and certainly, results vary from time to time, but… Love. My perspective is that loving is a verb, not a gift to be received, or expected, nor a resource to be mined, or wasted – everyone involved has to do the verbs, or Love withers, unsupported, un-nourished.) It will be a fun homecoming; I am excited to show him around the new place.

I sip my coffee, feeling the tug of a contented smile pulling on my face. Monday morning, the sky becoming light with a new day, just beyond the hedge. Today I’ll try the bus commute on for size. I haven’t yet switched over to a parking pass, still looking at my budget and making the necessary decisions about my commute – both the time and the money are factors to consider, and ease, and convenience, and reliability, and whether it will be miserable, comfortable, or fun. This is my life. Those details matter. Β My Traveling Partner was right, though (as if he’s not right often enough!); I am pleased to have the choices in front of me, and it has been incredibly helpful to have the car – especially after I broke my foot! lol

I look around the studio at the managed chaos and disarray – it’s hardly a space I could paint in, as it is. There are paintings stacked everywhere, mostly by size. The hardest part of moving in is hanging art; every place is different, and wants different things on the walls. Each installation is new, and individual. The window looks out on the dawn, and reflects back at me those stacks of paintings, as if to suggest the future is just beyond those stacks of paintings that are waiting to be hung, stored, or sold. It’s a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me… and I’m feeling good.

“Beauty is everywhere” quote and photo by Thomas Harwood, 2017


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Posted in full at: http://ift.tt/2uOLmCL on July 23, 2017 at 07:49PM

Tags:IFTTT, Fauxthentic History, DWCrosspost

Tumblr post (this is likely a reblog, and may have more pictures over there)

Vividcon

  • Jul. 23rd, 2017 at 10:35 AM
 Who is going? Can't wait to see you all.
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Quieter Mornings

  • Jul. 23rd, 2017 at 12:26 PM

Posted by E.H.

Well… I suppose it is time to let new routines become old routines, and for life to “get back to normal”, whatever that is going to be, here in this new place. I have lived here now for fully 9 days. I sip my coffee, very early, before dawn, on a Sunday work day. It is so quiet here. It is quieter, at least before dawn on a Sunday, than the place I just moved out of. There is no traffic at all at this hour. All is still, and calm, and yes, eerily quiet. I scratch my arm absent-mindedly, I notice it seems quite loud in the stillness of this quiet room.

Yesterday was when I first noticed the shift in focus from moving to living, and realized that the move, as a thing all its own, is over. There’s plenty more to do, and the garage has quite a few unopened boxes remaining to be unpacked, but I really do live here now, and these things can be done over time. The big pieces of the puzzle are all in place. Life can be what it is. The rest of the unpacking, like dealing with any sort of baggage, is just part of living life. It’s just unpacking baggage. πŸ™‚

I yawn and stretch. I sip my coffee. This is morning, here. It’s not so different than morning, for me, anywhere. I take my time with it. I sip coffee. I write. I contemplate my mortality. I consider my human legacy as an individual. I wonder where wisdom comes from. I watch a couple exciting movie trailers. I listen to the morning traffic begin, like a new section of the orchestra beginning to play in some grand symphony of noise. Life.

I’ll see my Traveling Partner soon. He’s been away a while. I am eager to hear his tales of adventure, and eager to share my own (somewhat less adventurous) tales. I will get his thoughts on placement of paintings, and his solutions for dark hallways. We will share the warmth of our embraces, and hear each other’s hearts beat. I will welcome him to this new place. πŸ™‚

This feels like “the first day back to work” after a long time away. I haven’t been “away” at all, just took a couple long weekends. It’ll be the first work week since my thoughts became distracted with an imminent (then an in-progress) move, though. It’s been just one day more than a month since I gave my notice, and only a day or two more that moving has filled my thoughts. Wow. That happened fast. lolΒ  This week, I’m just going to work, coming home, doing the things – no distractions. πŸ™‚ It feels good.

I smile contentedly. Filling my awareness with birdsong and my feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment. This was a singularly successful move. I make a point of taking time to appreciate how well it went. A good starting point for another of life’s journeys. I finish my coffee. It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚

 


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Here I Am At Home

  • Jul. 22nd, 2017 at 12:55 PM

Posted by E.H.

So this is home, is it? Here, now? Interesting that it feels so much so, so soon, so easily, so completely… Is it that way in each new place? Do I make myself at home, everywhere? It’s possible… I don’t take the bait when my restless monkey mind suggests I could dig into old journals and past blog posts looking for “truth”. The relevant truth is here, now, and it is enough. I feel at home here.

I woke well before day break. Dawn is still some time from now. The morning is dark in these wee hours, and the busy street I live on is utterly silent and without traffic so early on a Saturday morning. I woke early, rested, unable to sleep any longer. Easily handled; I got up and made coffee. πŸ™‚

The move is over. I live here. There’s more unpacking to do. I still can’t reliably find my way around in the dark. I’m still constantly misplacing things I’ve set down “for a moment” in some convenient spot “where I can’t lose track of it”, then wandering off and forgetting where I’ve set down… my phone… my keys… that list I just made… It’ll be some time before I really know this space and where everything is “put away” in it. I have regular reminders that I am not yet entirely unpacked, and moments of anxiety about things that may be lost, or overlooked, and actually it’s just that there’s quite a lot still in boxes. An example is that I don’t unpack books until I am certain I have the shelves where I really want them – but some of the boxes of books have some little odd other thing in the top of the box, if there was a bit of space there, but I don’t easily remember that item X is in that box of books over there – for now it just “feels missing”. Getting fully moved in is a process – but it’s lovely that I already feel “at home”, nonetheless. πŸ™‚

I notice that the pre-dawn darkness has lightened up enough to become dawn. Daybreak is here, and the sunrise will soon follow. I decide to set aside my writing, and take my coffee to the deck…

The day begins.

There is no handy view of the sunrise here, but the scent and sound of the forest so near at hand calls to mind so many mornings out in the trees, camping. The traffic hasn’t yet commenced, and all I hear are the sounds of forest life, and a breeze stirring the leaves of trees so close they seem almost within reach. I love the view from the deck. There is no grand vista here, no horizon on the horizon, no broad expanse of meadow…but there is also no busy pedestrian trail, no playground equipment, no basketball court, and no neighbors smoking cigarettes on the patio next to mine. This feels safe, and private, and comfortable. The deck gets some sun, it gets some shade – the roses are doing well here, and making a good recovery from the exposed heat of summer at the other address. I enjoy the convenience of having a water source at hand, making caring for my garden much easier. I check the yard from my deck vantage point, looking for forest creatures who may have chosen to visit, but this morning there are none. There will be other mornings. πŸ™‚

The move is over. The rest is just housekeeping. πŸ˜€ I live here. This is home. I sip my coffee as the sky lightens, and smile. Joy feels good. Contentment feels good. Feeling welcome in my own space, and in my own life, feels very good indeed. I take time to really savor these feelings – and to welcome myself home.


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Looking for Story

  • Jul. 21st, 2017 at 11:15 PM

Posted by em_kellesvig

John, Rodney, and Ronon are sitting in the mess, eating breakfast, when Ronon asks, "What's rimming?" Rodney proceeds to describe it in loving detail, leaving John a hot mess. John drags Rodney back to his quarters and asks him to do it to him. I thought it was by amireal and on mckay_sheppard but I can't find it. Help, Obi Juan, you're my only hoe.

Found! by popkin16: Answer Man by rasah. Many thanks!
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The Brain Attacks Without Warning

  • Jul. 21st, 2017 at 12:49 PM

Posted by E.H.

I woke unexpectedly breathless, heart pounding, unsure of where I was – and no art on the walls yet to pull me back from The Nightmare City. I told myself it was nothing. Got up. Took my morning medication. Had a big drink of cool, fresh, water. Took some deep breaths. I found myself wandering room to room, throwing open the windows, as if only the fresh morning air could calm me. It did feel good. I made coffee out of habit. I really just want more cold water, although… I’m not actually thirsty.

I stand in a cool shower for some minutes, coffee forgotten, trembling, heart still pounding, and feeling mildly weak and a little dizzy. I finally think to check in with myself more specifically. “Am I okay? Physically okay?” I give that some thought, becoming more aware, and more present, right now. I have no recollection of having had a nightmare, but aside from that, I feel very much as I do when I wake from a really bad one, abruptly.

After my shower, feeling some better, I drop some ice cubes in my now-tepid coffee (damn, how long was I standing in not-quite-cold water at 4 am?) and step out onto the deck “for some fresh air” (as if I hadn’t already thrown the house wide to the breezes as soon as I woke). I’m okay. Still feeling a little unsure of myself, actually, vulnerable, and filled with vague anxiety. It’s been awhile since I woke in the middle of a panic attack. Uncomfortable. It wasn’t helpful that I am in a new environment. I’m okay right now, though, and that’s enough to get by on.

I watch the sky lighten beyond the window of the studio, beyond the security door, beyond the hedge, a few tall trees silhouetted against the sliver of visible sky. There are streaks of clouds, low on the horizon, and clear pale sky overhead. I write a few more words about the weather, then delete them. I sit staring quizzically at my computer screen for some minutes, not just uncertain what to write about, but also simply… unsure. Too aware that I woke up a bit unhinged, still feeling… feelings. Sure, I’m okay, for most values of okay, and I’ll be fine, but right now, in this tender moment, I need something more from myself than small talk about the fucking weather. lol I need a connection.

I decide to begin again. I take my coffee, and head to the deck to enjoy watching the morning unfold its beauty in leaves and light to a soundtrack of birdsong, breezes, and morning traffic. My results vary. Of course. Sometimes there are verbs involved.

 

 


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Hello, all! I am searching for a specific Dean/Castiel (Destiel) Fic. This Fic is Non-AU and there is a lot of Angst/Comfort.

In this Fic: Dean and Cas are vacationing in a beach(?) house (I think) or possibly another house. The house doesn't have a TV or anything I believe and Dean repairs things around the house during the Fic (he also does so to avoid talking about his feelings).

They are taking a vacation due to the last hunt they went on going wrong. Dean was beggining to have panic/anxiety attacks and Cas and Sam think that him taking a break would help him with his anxiety.

Dean and Cas speak to Sam via Phone Call until he visits them once during this Fic.

They don't hunt for a while but once Dean and Cas return to the Bunker, Dean, Cas and Sam begin to Hunt again. Everything is okay until Cas and/or Sam is almost killed during a hunt. Dean begins struggling with his anxiety once again and they (Dean and Cas ) stop hunting for good and return to their vacation home for a while so Dean can heal.

I read this Fic on Archive Our Own (AO3.) and sadly this is all I can remember.

Thank you in advance!

Always So Very Human

  • Jul. 20th, 2017 at 2:16 PM

Posted by E.H.

I woke around 3 am, and made a point of not getting up. I eventually fell asleep again, and slept in until almost 6 am! I woke slowly in the stillness and quiet of a pre-dawn Thursday. Another day of moving in, but planning to make a final visit to the old place, sweep up, vacuum, and hand over the keys.

I live here now. This new place. My aches and pains are here. My joyful moments will be here too. My peace and contentment are already here… I unpacked those yesterday, I suppose. πŸ™‚ My coffee is definitely here. My restless rather disorganized approach to housekeeping is here, too. My baggage and limitations are here… pretty sure I just saw those a minute ago…but in the calm of a lovely morning, I’ve misplaced them.

Yesterday I finished moving into the kitchen, which really needed to happen quickly; frequent meals out, delivered, or taken home from elsewhere are not sustainable indefinitely. This morning I woke to a minimum balance reminder I’d previously set to protect myself from over-spending during the move. Well, shit. That snuck up on me. My inner dialogue this morning is all to do with money, and budgets, and being attentive to details… less chastising than reinforcing.

4 years ago, I’d have probably been in hysterics for hours, freaked completely out both by seeing that reminder, and also simply because I was having to think about money. Particularly first thing in the morning (or right before bed, or at any time that wasn’t planned in advance, or … ) This time? I rolled over, and before I was even quite awake, calmly moved some money into that account in quite a routine way, and moved on with my morning with a firm thought in mind that I’ve exhausted my moving budget, and life moves on with the regular day-to-day budgeting in mind. Things will be tight this week. I’m not particularly concerned, because I specifically prepared for this. πŸ™‚ It’s a nice feeling.

…I manage to be mildly irked with myself, and realize I’d been betting I could “bring this project to a close on time and under budget”… and I missed. On time, sure, easily… if I only count the moving out bit. lol Under budget? Nope. My skills at anticipating costs and making a budget have grown over time, it wasn’t likely I was going to spend less on this move – I was accurate about what it would cost me. I’ve been pretty accurate about how much time it would all take me, too. lol I sip my coffee thoughtfully and decide to celebrate that I budgeted and planned so accurately, instead of celebrating how much less I was able to spend that I expected I might. πŸ˜€ Win!! πŸ˜‰

I take time to care for the stressed out roses, and also to appreciate “Fireworks”, which arrived and immediately burst into bloom. What needs my attention no longer prevents me from appreciating what can be enjoyed.

On a more serious note, when I allow myself to become attached to an outcome, I may as well also plan to be quite frustrated, disappointed, and chronically unhappy, because those will likely be common experiences. Over time I have continued to practice letting go of being attached to outcomes, simply because my “crystal ball” tends to be sort of smudgy and vague, and I am often incorrect about the direction life may go, or the outcome of one choice or set of circumstances or another. Being willing to embrace change, and able to enjoy what is, even when it isn’t what I wanted, or what I was going for, results in a fairly frequent opportunity to simply enjoy myself, enjoy my life, enjoy my circumstances. It’s nice. Non-attachment is a pretty big deal for me. Effective.

I live here, now.

I guess I call this move done, at this point. I live here, rather than there. There’s more to do to move in, but it’s all right here. The “moving budget” is exhausted. Life moves on from moving to… whatever is next, I guess. Laundry probably. lol Β Housekeeping. The moving in, itself, becomes part of… life. Hell, friends have already begun making plans to come around. I definitely live here, now. I slept in. I sleep deeply and wake gently, even in the night. I can find my way around the place, in the dark, mostly. I’ve done dishes here, and cooked a proper meal. The pantry is stocked. My clothes hang in the closet. The miscellaneous crap currently strewn on the bathroom counter is mine. This is home. My new “drama-free zone”.

There’s more to do. More time to do it. There will be verbs involved. My results may vary. I live here, though, and this is my place. I am content. This is enough. πŸ™‚


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Hi :)
I am looking for a fanfiction which was posted on archieveofourown.org, as far as I remember. It is about Sam who runs away from Dean and into a forest where he tries to kill himself with a knife.
Cas and Dean look for him but can't find him until it's too late.
When Cas finally finds Sam on a clearing he is already dead but he gets brought back to life by Lucifer...
That's all I can remember.
I hope anyone can help me :)

Oh, Right, It’s All Different!

  • Jul. 19th, 2017 at 1:12 PM

Posted by E.H.

I’m off for a couple days to get all moved in. I woke this morning too early (earlier than needed, earlier than desired, earlier than I’d planned on) and I am sipping my coffee distractedly, exchanging words with friends who are also awake, preparing for their work days. This is a “work day” for me as well, just work done here at home, in mindful service of home and hearth, taking care of the woman in the mirror. I pause to appreciate having the time off hours available to do so.

I look out the window, through the security door, and smile at the decorative stake that will soon support my hummingbird feeders. It is the one that used to hold the bird seed bell and suet feeder next to the patio at my old place. It makes me feel pleasantly at home to see it here. It’s taken me days to decide where to place it; I wanted to be easily able to see it, from inside the house, which didn’t actually leave many options. I like the placement I selected. I take a moment to fill up on that feeling of satisfaction and contentment. Really pausing to savor those small pleasing moments helps build a substantial reservoir of emotional resilience, as well as – over time – shifting my baseline implicit experience of life in a positive long-term way. It doesn’t happen fast. Β It does require practice. There are verbs involved. My results often vary. Still totally worth it. πŸ™‚

What works in one place or circumstance may not be quite the thing in another.

I sip my coffee with a similar experience of contentment and quiet joy. Fresh coffee beans of excellent quality, freshly ground, and a carefully prepared pour over instead of the effortless lower quality mass-prepared machine-brewed single-serve drip coffee I’ve allowed myself to become accustomed to for convenience. I have missed this measure of quality and self-indulgence more than I understood. Why should I rush myself on a day off? πŸ™‚

I’d have slept in… only… I woke up. LOL It is, apparently, a day I am eager to enjoy. πŸ™‚

My ankle has been aching fiercely, more than usual I felt, and the foot (same one as the ankle) on which I’d dropped my (very small) safe still feels terribly bruised, more than I expect it too after several days, and it has slowly been turning a strange shade of blue as the bruising continues to develop. I stopped by Urgent Care on my way home to have it seen to. I wasn’t too surprised to be told I’d cracked a metatarsal bone. So… less about the ankle, actually, and more about the foot, which explains why my ankle brace was giving me so much less relief than it usually does. My foot is now wrapped up a bit differently, but no cast, and I’m still moving around with relative ease using my cane. Nothing much has changed for having a doctor take an x-ray and give me a diagnosis, honestly, but I know why I hurt, and that lets me make better self-care choices. I’m doubly appreciative to have time off for moving in; I’ll have to do it with great care, and more slowly. Totally fine. I’ve got this… after coffee. πŸ™‚

I love it here, so far…

…I can’t find anything here, yet.

So much more to do!

There is more work to be done restoring order from chaos. More verbs. More moments. More lists. More practices. My coffee is finished, and the sky has lightened from dawn to morning. It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚

 


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