One is that I love the Fucking Gacha Garden. So much so, that I believe they should change their name to exactly that. But then you’d end up with unmentionables at every vendor and well I’m just too much of a lady for all that. Yes I am. But I’m not too much of a lady to LOVE SOME DAMN FOOTBALL.
I drug out a table and a TV and set up for the big game! Continue reading
My friend Kitty and I decided to go about yesterday, hither and yon, and after coffee at her place we decided on drinkees at mine. Luckily my new kitchen from Trompe Loeil dispenses them liberally so it didn’t take too long until we were two very tipsy girls. Continue reading
The detectors don’t induce the phenomenon of wave function collapse; conscious observation does. Consciousness is like this giant roving spotlight, collapsing reality wherever it shines—and what isn’t observed remains probability. And it’s not just photons or electrons. It is everything. All matter…A testable, repeatable fault in reality.”
Ted Kosmatka – The Flicker Men
I am reading The Flicker Men, a book that could easily swallow you whole with its mind-bending sci-fi exploration of the implications of quantum physics. It starts with real science, with Feynman’s Double Slit Experiment that proves the duality of light. Light is both wave and particle. Actually, just one year ago, researchers were able to photograph the first picture of light as particle and wave at the same time. It’s a cool picture.
But then there is also the Observer Effect. The act of observing changes reality on the quantum level, including changing light from waves to particles in the Double Slit Experiment. The Flicker Men considers what that means in terms of understanding consciousness. It leads to our poor researchers being kidnapped, beaten, even killed because the implications of their research threaten our understanding of how the world works. I hope folks think about reading it – not just because the author makes the science pretty easy, but because it should provoke fascinating conversations.
Continue reading
Are you good at admitting you’re wrong? It’s a skill. When I’m working, toiling at my desk and blogging, shooting, styling, I have no problem admitting something’s wrong. “Look at that intersection” or “Oh god why did I think that went together” or whatever it is I’ve done wrong, I am ok with admitting it. I’m good with accepting it and moving on.
Personally I’m terrible at it. I hate realizing I’m wrong about someone. I hate being wrong about who they are, or their intentions. Continue reading
So I had some time to myself after feeding my kitties and doing the usual housework and I thought SELF! You need to go out! So I dug in my closet and found some perfect clubbing clothes from House of Hucci.
It was Fetish Night and I guess my fetish is….cute clothes. Continue reading
There is the Girl Who Waited who is Amelia Pond. She waited for his return, and when he did great adventures and wonder happened throughout her life. But she was spun along through her own adventures, like a rudderless boat sometimes. She wasn’t the captain, yet she was a willing participant in the chaos of adventure she was able to experience. (I won’t embrace the spoilers of the end of her adventures, as we know it’s against the rules – SPOILERS!)
But there’s another kind of girl and she’s the kind who won’t wait for anybody. Continue reading
How do you know, when you think blue — when you say blue — that you are talking about the same blue as anyone else?
You cannot get a grip on blue.
Blue is the sky, the sea, a god’s eye, a devil’s tail, a birth, a strangulation, a virgin’s cloak, a monkey’s ass. It’s a butterfly, a bird, a spicy joke, the saddest song, the brightest day.
Blue is sly, slick, it slides into the room sideways, a slippery trickster.
This is a story about the color blue, and like blue, there’s nothing true about it. Blue is beauty, not truth. ‘True blue’ is a ruse, a rhyme; it’s there, then it’s not. Blue is a deeply sneaky color.”
― Christopher Moore, Sacré Bleu: A Comedy d’Art
So many things are just a headache away from solving. Right now my head hurts. Decisions are hard, and I’m not a girl who makes them when I don’t have to. Yet here I am making decisions, shedding my skin and becoming a new girl.
It’s rather liberating. Sort of a “dance in the cold ass snow” sort of liberating.
The snow, however, is cold as shit. Continue reading
Cheeky Pea has a new bed out at UBER and I really like it. It’s a swirling mess of blowing silks around a lively arbor theme. She’s calling it the Woodland Tent Bed and it’s aptly named. I’d like to try it out but alas, I’m all alone over here and can’t give most of these animations a go. I’ll trust that they are lovely. Continue reading
It’s a Sunday that’s been rife with things to do and me being confused about events that aren’t open yet or are already closed. I’m 15 kinds of cranky so I decided something comfortable was in order for today.
My new dress is a shirt dress from Fission and it’s got the right amount of “put together” to go with just hanging around. Continue reading