[personal profile] dragonlady7
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Not embroidery, not politics, not reblogs, not memes or cats or artifacts from the queue… No, it’s time for…

A snippets post! Yes, I’m still writing things!! Slowly, and to no particular end, but I am!

1) A lovely spate of commenters and some discussions about Sled Dog Guy and Found Cat made me revisit the ties-them-together sequel I’d been considering. 

2) Continuing my cozy epic of the DamFam’s founding years, Kes Dameron joins the Pathfinders, and is unhappily really good at it. (mild tw: wartime-appropriate violence, specifically knife violence)

hmm, what else am I working on? Oh yes. 

3) the Home out in the Wind post-quel: reunion on Yavin IV.

Snippets below, so this doesn’t get so long:

1) Found Cat/Sled Dog sequel:

 “I won’t eat you, child,” Kes said, smiling gently at her as he stood and went into the kitchen. Poe and Finn had gone to pick up the pizza they’d called ahead to order, and Rey hadn’t anticipated being so uneasy at being left alone with this stranger. “It’s all right.”

“I’m not– afraid of you,” Rey said fiercely. 

“Nor should you be, dear,” Kes said. “Do you want a beer or a glass of water?”

She hesitated. “A beer,” she said. “Whatever kind.”

He came back out after a moment with two beers and the bottle opener, and passed her the unopened bottle and opener. She popped the cap off, and handed him back the opener in some bemusement, and then realized that he’d been making a point of bringing her the beer with the seal intact. But he took the opener back as if it were no big deal, opened his own, and sat down on the couch, picking up Artoo to make room for himself. 

He deposited the cat into his lap and petted him. “Don’t grumble at me, gato,” he said. Artoo complained briefly, but settled down and deigned to be caressed. 

She pulled her feet up into her seat, getting comfortable and bracing herself all at the same time, and watched his hands moving on the cat’s fur. “Are you,” she said, but trailed off. 

He let that silence spin out a brief moment, then glanced over at her, corners of his eyes crinkling in a manner like Poe’s. “What am I?” he asked. “Is that what you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” she said. She fidgeted with her beer bottle. “I never knew anyone’s dad before.”

He smiled at her, and it was a nice kind of smile, amused but not at her expense she thought maybe, though she wasn’t sure. “Well,” he said, “dads are really like regular people, mostly. Motherhood causes more biological changes, but fatherhood causes a few too. Mostly we become scientifically fifty percent more embarrassing, on average.”

“Embarrassing,” Rey said, unwittingly fascinated: she knew it was a joke but she just wasn’t used to those. 

“It’s mostly only detectable to one’s own offspring,” Kes said, closing one eye in what she thought must be a conspiratorial gesture.

2) Kes Dameron: Slightly Squeamish Commando: 

“Are you sure?” Pankhel [OC, Pathfinder] asked.

“No,” Kes said, smudging mud down the bridge of his nose, “but what do we have to lose?”

“You’re nuts,” she said.

“Count thirty then throw the rock,” he said.

“They’ll be on us before that,” she argued.

He shook his head. “Count fast then, if you really think so. I just gotta get behind ‘em.”

The Imperial patrol was Stormtroopers, following the same deployment pattern as they all did. Kes got that the uniformity thing was their system and it worked for them but it was also the same shit his people had been studying how to resist since the Separatist conflict so it was kind of easy to predict what they’d do. He drew on one of the childhood stories he’d been told, mentally filtered out the embroidered embellishments, and drew the absolutely non-standard-issue belt knife he’d managed to wheedle out of Andor, who’d clearly grown up on the same stories.

Blasters made noise. Knives didn’t. And Stormtrooper armor was all made the same. Kes had never killed a man before, had never seriously contemplated it, but he was very good at cutting exactly what he aimed at with a knife. He slipped into the footsteps of the Trooper flanking the man carrying the sensor they were using to look for the Pathfinders, waited for Pankhel’s (well-thrown) rock to clatter down the other side of the canyon and both Stormtroopers to turn to look at it. As they did, he slid the knife into the throat gap of the Trooper’s armor, pushed past the resistance and whipped it out again, then prepared to die.

But the Stormtrooper didn’t scream; he made an awful little shrill noise, and twisted down, flailing helplessly. Improbably enough, the sensor man paused, turning his head, but there was no peripheral vision in those helmets; he was clearly not really paying attention to his surroundings. “Sevens,” the sensor man said, maybe impatiently; his voice was flattened by the helmet. “Will you quit tripping on tree roots.”

Kes didn’t wait for the realization; he was already on the man, knife hammered into that same throat gap, and the sensor man didn’t have time to make any more noise than his companion.

Kes ripped the sensor man’s helmet off, not looking at his dead face, and bashed it open to pry out the comm unit. He could hear that the patrols were checking in in sequence. “– fours, no change,” said a voice. Then there was an awkward silence.

“GK-1949, report,” a voice said after a moment, impatiently.

Kes shook the thing, and found the trigger to transmit. “– sorry,” he said, purposely flattening his voice and trying his damnedest not to have any kind of accent, “Sevens tripped. No change otherwise.”

He held his breath. He probably sounded like a moron. He’d never learned how to get rid of his accent, not really. Then a bored-sounding voice said, “Four seven three zero, no change. Are we changing up the pattern once we hit that canyon?”

“Negative,” the impatient voice said, “just point the sensors down. Four-nine, you take the west edge, Twenty-two hug the east edge.”

Nothing for it; Kes went back and pried the transmitter out of Sevens’ helmet, and lifted the sensor from 1949’s limp hand, and followed the path closest to what he figured the patrol had been planning to take. He went back toward the northward gun emplacement, and carefully kept the sensor pointed the wrong direction, waving the comm unit at Pankhel as he came close.

“What did you,” she said, astonished.

“Killed them both,” Kes said.

3) Yavin IV Reunion Post-HomeWind Epic:

Norasol looked up, and was not entirely surprised to see that it was Leia Organa. “Oh, good, you’ve come,” she said, and held out her hand. “I suppose Kes can stand to hear your name spoken, now.”

Leia came forward and pressed her cheek to Norasol’s, Alderaanian-style. “Yes,” she said, “Kes is even speaking directly to me now.”

Norasol held Leia by the shoulders, and really looked at her, really truly. She knew that the woman bore no blood relation to Bail, or Breha; she knew the woman’s mother really had been Padmé Naberrie, but she’d never known her. She’d never known that Anakin Skywalker either, which she considered a spot of good luck. But she’d known Breha, and Bail. “You know,” she said, as it struck her, “you have a resemblance to your father now– your real father, who raised you, whose name you still bear. There’s something in your face that recalls him.”

Leia smiled indulgently, but a little sadly, and it was so clearly a Bail expression that it was unmistakable. “That’s impossible,” she said.

“No,” Norasol said. “If you have a strong enough impression of someone’s spirit with you, it can change your appearance. I can see in your face that he’s still with you.”

Tears started to Leia’s eyes, at that. “Norasol,” she said, and Norasol pulled her in close again, for a real embrace, chest to chest, shoulder to shoulder, Leia’s chin tucked over her shoulder. Leia was so slight, and even as diminished as Norasol was now with age, Leia was still smaller. “You know,” Leia whispered, “I’m older now than he ever was.”

“I’m the oldest any of my people has lived to be in generations,” Norasol told her. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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A post shared by Bridget Kelly (@bomberqueen17) on Aug 23, 2017 at 6:10pm PDT

Inch by inch… Z says he recognizes the fill pattern it’s using from, get this, some antique drawing software he used as a kid, where you could fill a shape with a color but it was so slow it’d have to draw it line by line. And it filled just this way, right to left and top to bottom, filling all the pieces and then going all the way across when it got to a wide part of the pattern.
Bonus shot of my very first filled piece, too.
I might be getting the hang of this! Maybe? The bobbin winder doesn’t work tho, which is like, the most basic sewing machine thing? Oh well, we all have our foibles.
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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awww i was at a nice round follower number for a couple days there and it was super keen but i lost a follower so womp-womp, back to a 99. that’s okay. i always tell myself it was a porn bot i lost. i’m not very good about removing them, which is probably why i have so many followers. an awful lot of y’all are real people though and i appreciate you. <3

Wednesday reading

Aug. 23rd, 2017 07:05 pm
queen_ypolita: Books stacked to form a spiral (Bookspiral by celticfire)
[personal profile] queen_ypolita
Recently finished
The Daughter of Time, which I enjoyed very much and League of Dragons, which I also liked even if it wasn't quite as gripping as some of the other ones in the series.

Currently reading
Still reading The Oxford History of Greece and the Hellenistic World, also reading A Dangerous Inheritance by Alison Weir (one of her fiction books) and Freshman Year by Kristine Robinson (a free ebook), which so far has been pretty terrible, but as I've been reading it as an undemanding bedtime book, it's OK.

Reading next
Not sure. I'm tempted to re-read the entire Temeraire series, but also not keen on giving on all other reading for weeks.
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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My first scratch scrap in the embroidery machine is pretty full now. I need to find some colored thread to move on from single-color experiments but I figured I liked the monochrome aesthetic to start with. I’m also ready to move on from the built-in patterns and make my own patterns.

like a bird in a cage

Aug. 23rd, 2017 11:15 am
musesfool: Superboy, arms crossed over his chest (no retreat baby no surrender)
[personal profile] musesfool
Oy, the subway this morning, I can't even. One of the great joys of vacation, even if I'm staying home, as I am this time around, is not having to get on the subway unless I want to, and certainly not during a really screwed up morning rush.

I keep checking FedEx to see if the package with the contracts/check was delivered. By 10:30 they said! But at 11 am, it's still in transit. Sigh. eta: And delivered as of 11:20 am. Whew./eta

Anyway. It's time for what I'm reading Wednesday:

What I've just finished
nothing yet.

What I'm currently reading
The Stone Sky by N.K. Jemisin, the third book of the Broken Earth trilogy. I'm not finding it quite as compelling as the first two books. spoilers ) I'm about 60% through, so I imagine more terrible things are coming.

What I'm reading next
As always, it's a mystery. I have many things on my iPad, so we'll see what catches my fancy.

***
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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ok I (sshhhh) downloaded SewArt on one of the work computers and fucked around with it for a solid hour this morning (shhhh!!!! i got some real work done in a few snatches here and there shhhhh) and have made .pes files out of a bunch of stuff I had saved in my dropbox as Cool Stuff.

Like the Neutral Face emoji, and Oliver Hazard Perry’s “DONT GIVE UP THE SHIP” flag which is now an inside joke of my household, and some keen BB-8 lineart that I thought would make a good redwork (single-color outline-style) embroidery. I’m not super super impressed with SewArt, but it’s not bad. You just have to really really really really really get your file clean in Photoshop. I mean, like, I just dropped the neutral face emoji in there thinking like, no way do i have to flatten it, it’s only 2 colors? well SewArt found artifacts to make into separately-colored stitches in the perfectly circular perfectly black eyes, so I went back to Photoshop and just re-filled the circles with black. It’s still not perfect but I think it’ll look fine. 

If you’re really really fluent in Photoshop I think that helps a lot. I don’t think you really want to be using any of the image-editing tools in any of the stitch digitizers.

So, we’ll see. 

I still think I’ll actually buy the sole-available native-Mac program for myself, but why not use Sew Art’s 30 day trial first? 

But, we’ll have to see how well these actually stitch. I need to get into vector art, a lot of things it would just be easier to completely re-draw by myself. 

Why is that hilarious? I don’t know!

(Spoiler alert: they gave up the ship.) (Also for context we say “Don’t give up the ship” just like the guy says “don’t give him the stick!” in that one GI Joe PSA parody from the early days of the interwebs, so it’s kind of turtles all the way down, after a fashion. Memes all the way down. IDK)

USA: let's not terminate the EPA

NSFW Aug. 23rd, 2017 09:44 am
petra: Text: "Gotta be one around here somewheres. Try the liberal call, boy." (Bloom County - Liberal Call)
[personal profile] petra
( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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He doesn’t hate Skywalker from the second they meet. That particular nasty rumor is Solo’s fault, and Wedge put it down to territorial posing more than anything else. 

(For a man who adamantly insisted he wanted nothing to do with the Rebellion, Solo definitely spent a lot of time clinging to the Princess of Alderaan and the Hero of the Death Star. Since Wedge wasn’t interested in trying to break up a happy triad, he left well enough alone, hoping that Solo stop making Wedge’s relationship with Rogue Leader more complicated than it needed to be.)

No, Wedge has always extended to Skywalker the same professional respect he affords all the pilots. Maybe a touch of awe for the Death Star business. Wedge even thinks he’s sort of funny, the kid with a thousand impossible stories about his hellhole planet, a streak of bitter humor and a smile like a blaster shot. Skywalker’s reckless in the extreme, but he’s always first to take any risk. And he’s been much more careful since Wedge had that conversation with him, about how Rogue Leader using the Force to accomplish impossible, stupid maneuvers generally meant a fiery death for the rest of his squadron.

They have an understanding, and an easy camaraderie that Wedge appreciates.

Wedge is just…

It’s difficult, meeting someone and knowing—knowing—from the second you meet them, that they’re about to sideline you in your own life. That when people tell the story of the great and glorious things you did, you’re going to be a supporting actor. And Wedge doesn’t resent Skywalker for it; he made the shot, the impossible shot, and now there’s talk of him being a Jedi. If Wedge’s going to lose out to someone, it might as well be that guy. 

(Still.)

Still, it would be easier if Skywalker would stop showing up at Wedge’s quarters at all hours, looking like a lost quarren puppy. It interferes with their amicable professionalism, Skywalker flopping down on Wedge’s bunk and shoving the fringe of his hair out of his eyes, talking about—something. It’s always something. He’s that strange sort of funny, even complaining, or (badly) imitating Solo, the Princess, Mothma, Akbar, and…

The first time, Wedge baldly stared at him until Luke guiltily sat up. “Do you want me to go?” he’d asked, picking at the hole in Wedge’s quilt that Wedge hadn’t thought anyone but him could find. The quilt was one of the things he’d brought with him from the Imperial Academy, a relic of Corellia he’d been allowed to keep because it meant he hadn’t needed an extra blanket issue. (The Empire was like that; economy over everything.)

“No,” Wedge had choked out, which surprised even him. “No, tell me what Commander Rosilev said.”

(Luke lets himself in, now.)

Solo doesn’t bristle the way he used to, not when Luke is the one who drags Wedge to where they’re sitting. It’s like sitting on the edge of a sunspot; hyper-aware that if he  just edges forward, even a little, he’ll be enveloped in light he’s not entitled to. The urge to try it, to just dare a little, is heady. For a moment, it’s all Wedge can think about, moving closer to Luke so that their shoulders brush, or taking Luke’s hands as they move—he’s argung with the Princess, and all Wedge can think is taking his hands, trapping them, holding them.

A Jedi’s hands. The hands that grasped the yoke, and made the shot. The hands—

“You know them,” Solo mutters, an aside as Luke and the Princess argue about whatever it is they’re arguing about; impassioned and probably correct. “So I don’t have to apologize, right?”

“Oh, no,” Wedge says. He’s—warm. “No, I’m…good.”

Luke stands there, pacing as Wedge keys in the access code to his own rooms. Luke’s ranting about—something, above Wedge’s paygrade probably. (Not that they have paygrades in the Rebellion, and definitely not like they did in the Empire, but Wedge is an operations droid, a battleplan guy. So long as his squad comes home, as long as they didn’t kill to many civilians, it’s okay. He doesn’t question ethics and morality the way Skywalker does, especially not when a Yavinese beer or two or eight has made him relaxed, loose-limbed.)

“You know?” Skywalker says, his voice breaking with how godsdamned impassioned he is.

“Sure, Skywalker,” Wedge says, fumbling with his keys (he’s been fumbling, but they’re blunt instruments, they’re ineffectual, they don’t need them—)

Luke kisses first, of this Wedge is absolutely sure. Luke smiles at him, indulgent and amused, and then Luke is making a few long strides to cross the corridor, and then Luke is kissing him, and all this happens in less than 120 seconds. Wedge is tasting a Jedi’s mouth, and the Jedi is moaning like he’s never had anything  better than the aftertaste of caf and stim, and maybe whatever Wedge had for lunch.

“Don’t humor me,” Luke says. His mouth tastes of Yavinese beer and warmth.

Wedge would tell him to fuck himself and the pathetic veneer of armor he’s built, except then Luke Skywalker might leave, and Wedge doesn’t want that. “I’m not,” Wedge says/breathes/murmurs, a thousand times. “I’m not.”

(Yes, oh, please, more, is all he says, afterwards.)

The next morning, the Princess eyes Wedge over breakfast. He pretends as though he can’t feel the lovebite burning exactly where his collar ends, and she pretends as though she doesn’t have a matching one somewhere he can’t see, but makes her squirm all the same.

He asks her to pass the dehydrated cream. She obliges. They drink their caf in silence.
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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standbackwasted:

selfies are so cool my kids are gonna be so into it like wouldn’t you kill for a selfie of your mom or your dad like a day when your mom felt pretty or a picture of her with her best friend like mostly the only pics we have of our parents are posed school photos or blurry film pictures of them as kids but how many actual pictures do you have of your mom? your grandparents? like the next generation of kids are gonna have pictures of their parents in every single stage of their life like my kids are gonna know what I looked like on march 8, 2015 theyre gonna know what i wore on Christmas when I was 19 and theyre gonna see a picture taken on their birthday 20 years before they were born and think it’s the coolest version of timehop there’s ever gonna be. they’re gonna notice the same striped shirt in all my selfies and be like wow mom you liked that shirt. like? how is that not the most remarkable thing you’ve ever heard
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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timemachineyeah:

I have a nibling who is not even two and has a model toy of the Endeavor space shuttle that he calls “my plane” when he plays with it. He loves it. And today we went to the California Science Center see the ACTUAL Endeavor space shuttle and I tell you what-

that kid lost his goddamn mind. It was the ACTUAL BEST. 

Cool fact about kids: they are small and dumb and they don’t know anything.

Like, for instance, their life experience gives them no reason to know that their toys are often based on actual things that exist.

It took him a while to realise the shuttle was even there because- protip about space shuttles: they are freaking huge. So like it didn’t even really register to him as an object? It was too big, it just seemed like the ceiling? But he saw the photos on the wall and he saw the gift shop and he was looking all around like “MY PLANE! MY PLANE!” because his toy “plane” was on every single thing. Models. Shirts. Mugs. Plushies. Books. This was a whole warehouse dedicated just to his plane, and that would have been amazing enough. Except, also, the actual life-size real has-been-to-space thing was there too. 

So eventually we got him to look up at the actual shuttle like, “yeah, look! There it is! It’s your plane, and it’s REALLY BIG” and when he finally took it in he literally screamed and I swear I thought for a second he was gonna die right there “IT’S BIG. MY PLANE MY PLANE MY PLANE” (looking at all the other people in the science center, pointing at a NASA space shuttle, shouting “MY PLANE!” like the actual proudest person in the world who just willed an entire spacecraft into existence).

Anyway I had a migraine for most of the day, but I’m still super glad I went out because it was totally worth it.

When I was about eighteen months old… Back up. OK so in 1866, during construction of a millrace in a waterfall on the Hudson River, construction crews discovered the skeleton of a mastodon. This thing wound up displayed, as a replica, in a library that my mom took me to as a child. There was also an exhibit about the things in the state museum, which was near where my dad worked. I went to see this thing basically constantly, either of the two exhibits as often as anyone would take me, and my parents realized that they really, really had to get me down to the Museum of Natural History in NYC to see their display, which featured not only a mastodon skeleton but also a mammoth, which species I preferred slightly (I like how their tusks curve, still do). I was fascinated with the entire genre of Ice Age pachyderms, but it was 1981 and there wasn’t a ton of merch or books. (Mom read me a very dry 17-page pamphlet from the museum about the archaeological conditions of the Cohoes dig until I had it memorized. Most of the words were meaningless, and there were only a few technical illustrations in black and white line-drawings, but it was all I wanted to know about.)

Anyway. My little sister is only 2 years younger than me, so by the time I was one and a half, Mom was pretty pregnant. (My older sister’s only 18 months older than me, too, so it wasn’t like I was the only toddler. I don’t know, my parents were nuts.) But it had to be done, so we all piled into the car, and my poor mother huffed and puffed her hugely pregnant self all over Manhattan, and–

I still remember this, and i don’t know how much is visiting it again and feeling it again, and how much is my mother recounting it, but I swear to you, I still remember being like two and a half feet tall and looking up at this mammoth skeleton with the big curving tusks, and standing there totally overwhelmed for like, two solid minutes.

So, Mom says, it was totally worth it. 

Even better, my niece is three, and i took her to the state museum, and you can see the mastodon exhibit from down a long hallway, and my niece, having been told that mastodons are The Most Exciting Thing, saw it and S H R I E K E D her way at top speed all down that long hallway (she literally yelled “M A S T O D O NNNNNNNN” at the highest pitch ever achieved by a human voice). Some adult gave her a judgy look and I was like, if you are not excited about the mastodon I do not wish to imagine how bleak your life is, and chased her down the hall, but kept my screaming internal.

They’re so cool you guys.

rock falls: a star wars story

Aug. 22nd, 2017 09:32 pm
moetushie: Hamlet von Trapp commiserating with his whine. I mean, wine! (shakespeare: hamlet)
[personal profile] moetushie
So I watched Rogue One: A Stars Story, about a year after everyone else. I'm SCARED of getting into Star Wars because I don't really remember if I watched the original trilogy or I merely osmosed it through pop culture. Probably the latter? Anyway, I've seen some of the prequels and the sequel and now Rogue One... And I think I like Rogue One the best? Mostly because the mains aren't directly related to the original trio, so the pressure is somewhat off.

(If the original trilogy is like Lord of the Rings, and the prequels are like the Silmarillion (LMAO), I think Rogue One would be like ... The Children of Hurin? Related to the action, but also an extremely bleak sidequest.)

Anyway, I did like it! It was sad. I think the ads may have been slightly misleading. Just slightly. You can read some more of my thoughts here, but basically? I came out wanting to read some fixits (or partial fixits) and also some fairly fucked up Bodhi/Galen because look, look an Imperial hostage/respected scientist does not get an Imperial pilot to deflect with no effort. I want to write fic?? There's so little of it, that's sad but. Story of my life??

Anyway, Disney succeeded in getting me sort of excited for The Last Jedi, although it does not have Riz Ahmed in it nor does it have Mads Mikkelson being hapless at being harmless so my interest is still minimal.
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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awisekraken

replied to your post

“i think, i think i think, that the embroidery digitization software i…”

I have no knowledge of embroidery, programs or otherwise, but if it comes to pass that you have to bootcamp your computer into accepting Windows as an operating system, I’ve done that before and can offer advice if your dude hits a wall. As for 3-4 word phrases… “nevertheless she persisted” comes to mind, though that might be a little long. It’d be super metal on red-stained denim though.

Dude has actually had to run Parallels on his Mac for years– it’s only very recently he finally switched his primary work box to Linux, because he was tired of doing that and it took forever. So he’s pretty confident he can get me up and running if he absolutely must.  But I think I’m really going to try to get something that runs native on OSX because I’m awful about closing programs and i know leaving that running would be resource-intensive. 

I like that as a phrase. I’ve just about exhausted my one and two-word phrases and single-color built-in patterns, so I think I’ll try some other stuff soon. I’ll put it on the list. :)

shaebay replied to your post “i think, i think i think, that the embroidery digitization software i…”

I really like embird and SewArt for machine embroidery

I looked at SewArt, that was the one everyone recommends, but it doesn’t run native in OSX. I think I saw Embird but I had fifty tabs open and lost track of things. Looking at their website, they only mention Windows 10, so I doubt they’ve got Mac support either. 

It’s funny, it’s such a very very long time since I had to think about programs being compatible cross-platform– it feels like a very, very 2004 problem, but maybe that’s just the last time I really thought about it… 
musesfool: close up of the Chrysler Building (home)
[personal profile] musesfool
This morning I signed and initialed four copies of a contract, wrote a deposit check, and shoved it all into a FedEx envelope so it can arrive at the seller's attorney's office tomorrow morning. Keep your fingers crossed that it goes better this time than it did the last.

L keeps saying she has a good feeling about this, but I had a good feeling about the other one right up until I didn't, so I am not doing any premature celebrating at this point. I mean, I think last time everything went so smoothly and I was basically carried along feeling incredulous and lucky and we saw how that worked out so. Back to cautious optimism and trying to manage expectations. And looking at potential furniture and paint colors, of course.

Gosh, the carpeting is so bad. I mean, first of all, I don't like carpeting but secondly, why white shag? why brown? These are not appealing (to me, and given that the apartment was still available when I got to it, to a lot of other people). If you are trying to sell your apartment, maybe make better aesthetic choices! Don't even get me started on the number of really terrible photos I've seen. I realize that taking pictures is a skill, so if you don't have it, find someone who does to take your pictures and then - protip! - upload them in the right orientation. I closed out of so many potential listings because the photos were a. terrible and b. rotated 90° counterclockwise, making them impossible to parse without a lot of neck craning. Don't do that!

I mean, re: the ugly carpeting: I'll have money left to rip it up and sand/polish/seal the wood floors beneath, but I've seen apartments in the same neighborhood and price range that already had that done, and they look so much nicer. *hands*

Anyway, now the seller just has to sign and we can officially be "in contract" and move on to the next step in the process.

*yawns*

I'm so sleepy. I want to go home. All day I've thought it was Wednesday and that I would be off work for 6 days (I'm taking Thurs/Fri/Mon/Tues off), but no, it's only Tuesday. Stupid Tuesday. Always the worst.

***

politicalsci:

Aug. 22nd, 2017 08:02 pm

Recs

Aug. 22nd, 2017 06:38 pm
selenak: (Rachel by Naginis)
[personal profile] selenak
Defenders:


Gone for Soldiers: Claire and Jessica at a certain memorial service post show. In which two backstories the series left out are addressed. Excellent Claire and Jessica voices.

Above, but undermined: neat missing scene between Matt and Jessica.

Orphan Black:

The sun that's setting in the east: what Rachel did next.

Tatiana Maslany about Orphan Black interview: in which she looks back on the show, sees P.T. Westmoreland as the perfect analogue for a current head of state (hint: mediocre man in his early 70s with his power based on lies, obsessed with himself, no regard for anything not him) and thus a good final villain, and reveals which Clone was the most fun for her to play.

#latergram I miss this kid! #farmbaby

Aug. 22nd, 2017 03:52 pm
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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#latergram I miss this kid! #farmbaby
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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i think, i think i think, that the embroidery digitization software i want is Embrilliance’s “Stitch Artist”. I don’t think the free tools out there scattered across the Internet will do me much good really, as most of them are Windows anyway, and most of them are actually just free trials. Embrilliance doesn’t do free trials but they do a money-back thing instead, where you can return the software if you don’t like it.

I just have so much trouble really distinguishing what terms to look for to find out if the software is what I want. An awful lot of the things I’ve been looking at are actually just… to make… hand embroidery patterns? Which, like. If you’re starting off with a thing you drew, or art you traced yourself, what more do you possibly actually need to do in order to make a pattern? Like… there you are! I get cross stitch, you’ve got to pixelize it and all, but like. It’s not like embroidery patterns even really tell you what direction to go in. Even the most comprehensive ones are just charts. You can do that with a pencil and some graph paper. I fail to see why you’d need expensive software just so you can put it into color and make it look stitch-y in the art. 

What I need is software that makes files that tell my embroidery machine what to do. My machine can’t just trace a line, it has to be told how many stitches and of what type.

I have a lot of things I want to embroider, though. I hadn’t actually asked anyone for an embroidery machine, it was more something my friend wanted, but i have a ton of ideas. 

So far I’ve covered a scrap of denim in clip art and cuss words, LOL. 

… I might start an Etsy store though, and sell the digitized designs and some patches and things. Patches and postcards and things. Most of my ideas are political, though, so maybe I want to assume a name for the purpose… 

Anyway, in the meantime, I’m taking requests: what slogans of three or four words or less would you like to see embroidered in one or two colors in the built-in machine fonts on impressively-weatherbeaten scraps of denim?*

I could do more than four words but I can’t do carriage returns, and only about five or six letters fit in the frame even on a small font size, so each word is a separate embroidery session and i have to manually reposition the whole shebang for it, so I’m not embroidering manifestos just yet. (Maybe later but it’d be a labor of love and not something I could do repeatedly– not using the built-in text tool, I’d have to use a program to assemble that many words and line breaks and such, and upload it as a single file if I wanted multiple copies.)

(*Oh yeah did I tell the story of the random feed sack I found full of eight pairs of 36x30 Lee jeans with red paint and holes and stains? Found it upstairs in the granary; at least one had a back pocket with a conspicuous worn spot showing a tobacco tin, so my suspicion is that they belonged to the house’s previous owners’ male half of the couple, who was a short stout chewer of tobacco and wearer of grubby old jeans, but– why would you store eight worn-out pairs of jeans in a feed sack in an outbuilding for fifteen years? It’s a mystery. Also how many different pairs of them did he really need to wear in order to paint something dark red? Why are they all paint-stained? Why not just some? How many wardrobe changes was he doing during this painting session? Anyway I salvaged them, have washed them twice and left them hung out during rain, and they’re getting made into extremely one of a kind patches and such.)
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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brainstatic:

The prosecutor who subpoenaed and cross-examined Hitler in 1931 for a murder trial against four brownshirts was a Jewish lawyer named Hans Litten. The three-hour testimony left Hitler so unnerved and humiliated that he forbade anyone speak Litten’s name in his presence, and he was killed in a concentration camp. Today, the German bar association is called the Hans Litten Association, and every year they give out the Hans Litten Award for excellence in the legal profession. That’s how you commemorate history. 
[personal profile] dragonlady7
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s-leary replied to your video: Trying out the new embroidery machine! I meant to…

Stabilizer sometimes ends up in the half-off remnant bin at my Joann’s–why, I have no idea, but anyway I will keep an eye out for it.

I found a little in mine! I need to pick up spray adhesive to go along with it, the iron-on stuff never gets remaindered like that. That’s what it is– you can have it cut by the yard, so there would be remnants. But the iron-on stuff is precut in sealed bags. There were coupons, today, so I only bought things I could use the coupons on– and i was meant to be making a hasty visit– but next time, I’ll get another coupon, and get some spray adhesive. Or, my mom will give me a gift card, lol. 

I’m currently realizing that the tutorial that made digitizing your own files look so easy was sort of glossing over a lot of things, most crucially that the digitizing software only runs on Windows, and i don’t have Windows. But. But! We have Windows machines at work, and I bet I can get it to run next week in the like, day and a half that my coworker is on vacation and therefore I’m unsupervised. 

Digitizing software is a nightmare. It’s all either ineffective, outdated, or $5000. I’m really struggling, and it’s really hard to track things down. Most of my leads come from forum posts from 2011. I really really really do not want to attempt to install a virtual Windows OS on my Mac, that would be Just Awful. 

But nobody makes embroidery patterns like what I want to do, and I’m really spoiled by hand embroidery, where I basically don’t ever use patterns and just do what I want. Oh well; I get why you can’t just… draw things on your embroidery machine. 

You can, it turns out, just type things on your embroidery machine, though, so. That’s fun, at least. 

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