![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png){kind=small}
savagelove_feedOn Thursdays I share a question from a reader and let my readers give the advice. I don’t even know how to start. I’m a 28-year-old female. I’ve been in two longterm relationships since I was fifteen, with only a couple of months between the first and the second. I’ve always had problems with sex. … Read More »
The post The Thursday Letter appeared first on Dan Savage.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
james_davis_nicoll
opusanglicanum_feedI’m long overdue releasing my next online class, mainly because I sepnt a year getting the colours right!
will be relasing this one very soon though.
andrewducker365tomorrows_feedAuthor: Mark Renney Carter travelled to the end of the line purely by accident. After drinking with friends he had fallen asleep on the last train. He awoke in the early hours of the morning, cocooned in his overcoat. The lighting in the carriage had dropped to an energy saving low level, but thankfully when […]
The post A Simulation appeared first on 365tomorrows.
plover_feedSo last spring I did an interview with the website Answer in Progress, which makes explainer videos on various interesting topics, because they said they were doing a video on stenography. Exciting! I thought the interview went really well. But the video never came out. Today I finally got curious about why, and found a <a href="https://www.patreon.com/posts/153995056">podcast episode on their Patreon</a> about all the videos they wound up canceling in 2025. Stenography is one of them. It starts at 19:00, but the short answer is that the video producer bought a non-ergonomic steno keyboard and wound up getting a repetitive stress injury from trying to learn steno. NOOOO! Let this be a lesson to all steno newbies! Ergonomics are incredibly important. Try to use a tentable machine whenever possible. Use a tripod if you can. Put the machine low enough to keep your shoulders down and your forearms parallel to the ground. And use springs that as light and shallow as you can find. That should help prevent RSIs! I'm really sad to hear about the injury, and secondarily sad that the video won't come out. Ah, well.
diaryof_samuelpepys_feedSo I waked by 3 o’clock, my mind being troubled, and so took occasion by making water to wake my wife, and after having lain till past 4 o’clock seemed going to rise, though I did it only to see what she would do, and so going out of the bed she took hold of me and would know what ailed me, and after many kind and some cross words I began to tax her discretion in yesterday’s business, but she quickly told me my own, knowing well enough that it was my old disease of jealousy, which I denied, but to no purpose. After an hour’s discourse, sometimes high and sometimes kind, I found very good reason to think that her freedom with him is very great and more than was convenient, but with no evil intent, and so after awhile I caressed her and parted seeming friends, but she crying in a great discontent. So I up and by water to the Temple, and thence with Commissioner Pett to St. James’s, where an hour with Mr. Coventry talking of Mr. Pett’s proceedings lately in the forest of Sherwood, and thence with Pett to my Lord Ashley, Chancellor of the Exchequer; where we met the auditors about settling the business of the accounts of persons to whom money is due before the King’s time in the Navy, and the clearing of their imprests for what little of their debts they have received. I find my Lord, as he is reported, a very ready, quick, and diligent person. Thence I to Westminster Hall, where Term and Parliament make the Hall full of people; no further news yet of the King of France, whether he be dead or not.
Here I met with my cozen Roger Pepys, and walked a good while with him, and among other discourse as a secret he hath committed to nobody but myself, and he tells me that his sister Claxton now resolving to give over the keeping of his house at Impington, he thinks it fit to marry again, and would have me, by the help of my uncle Wight or others, to look him out a widow between thirty and forty years old, without children, and with a fortune, which he will answer in any degree with a joynture fit for her fortune. A woman sober, and no high-flyer, as he calls it.
I demanded his estate. He tells me, which he says also he hath not done to any, that his estate is not full 800l. per annum, but it is 780l. per annum, of which 200l. is by the death of his last wife, which he will allot for a joynture for a wife, but the rest, which lies in Cambridgeshire, he is resolved to leave entire for his eldest son. I undertook to do what I can in it, and so I shall. He tells me that the King hath sent to them to hasten to make an end by midsummer, because of his going into the country; so they have set upon four bills to dispatch: the first of which is, he says, too devilish a severe act against conventicles; so beyond all moderation, that he is afeard it will ruin all: telling me that it is matter of the greatest grief to him in the world, that he should be put upon this trust of being a Parliament-man, because he says nothing is done, that he can see, out of any truth and sincerity, but mere envy and design.
Thence by water to Chelsey, all the way reading a little book I bought of “Improvement of Trade,” a pretty book and many things useful in it.
So walked to Little Chelsey, where I found my Lord Sandwich with Mr. Becke, the master of the house, and Mr. Creed at dinner, and I sat down with them, and very merry. After dinner (Mr. Gibbons being come in also before dinner done) to musique, they played a good Fancy, to which my Lord is fallen again, and says he cannot endure a merry tune, which is a strange turn of his humour, after he has for two or three years flung off the practice of Fancies and played only fidlers’ tunes. Then into the Great Garden up to the Banqueting House; and there by his glass we drew in the species very pretty.
Afterwards to ninepins, where I won a shilling, Creed and I playing against my Lord and Cooke. This day there was great thronging to Banstead Downs, upon a great horse-race and foot-race. I am sorry I could not go thither.
So home back as I came, to London Bridge, and so home, where I find my wife in a musty humour, and tells me before Ashwell that Pembleton had been there, and she would not have him come in unless I was there, which I was ashamed of; but however, I had rather it should be so than the other way.
So to my office, to put things in order there, and by and by comes Pembleton, and word is brought me from my wife thereof that I might come home. So I sent word that I would have her go dance, and I would come presently. So being at a great loss whether I should appear to Pembleton or no, and what would most proclaim my jealousy to him, I at last resolved to go home, and took Tom Hater with me, and staid a good while in my chamber, and there took occasion to tell him how I hear that Parliament is putting an act out against all sorts of conventicles, and did give him good counsel, not only in his own behalf, but my own, that if he did hear or know anything that could be said to my prejudice, that he would tell me, for in this wicked age (specially Sir W. Batten being so open to my reproaches, and Sir J. Minnes, for the neglect of their duty, and so will think themselves obliged to scandalize me all they can to right themselves if there shall be any inquiry into the matters of the Navy, as I doubt there will) a man ought to be prepared to answer for himself in all things that can be inquired concerning him.
After much discourse of this nature to him I sent him away, and then went up, and there we danced country dances, and single, my wife and I; and my wife paid him off for this month also, and so he is cleared.
After dancing we took him down to supper, and were very merry, and I made myself so, and kind to him as much as I could, to prevent his discourse, though I perceive to my trouble that he knows all, and may do me the disgrace to publish it as much as he can. Which I take very ill, and if too much provoked shall witness it to her. After supper and he gone we to bed.
james_davis_nicoll
dubiousquality_feedI forgot to mention a few things yesterday.
One was the train from Grand Central to White Plains had the squeakiest wheel in the history of the NYC transit system. The subway cars can be shrill shrill, at times, but this train took it to several more levels. There was also a screaming toddler that redefined the phrase "Armageddon."
Most importantly, I forgot to mention that the path we took to White Plains was actually Plan D, after plans A, B, and C had all failed.
This is how the trip from White Plains back home went.
The Uber picked us up in one minute. We got to the train station and went for a quick breakfast sandwich (I hadn't eaten for six hours) at a Tim Horton's right by the platform. I tossed the wrapper in the trash, we stepped on the platform, and the train arrived two minutes later.
It was an express train, so we made one stop (instead of fifteen) before we disembarked at Grand Central.
A musician with a violin was playing as we walked up the stairs. I looked at C. "Are you kidding me?" I asked. She laughed.
We needed to take two subway trains to get home. They both arrived within thirty seconds of us stepping on the platform.
On the way home, a man with a guitar stood up and serenaded us (quite nicely, too) for one stop.
"The universe is just *ucking with us now," I said.
It was all impossibly, unreasonably perfect.
Time to get to White Plains? Almost two and a half hours. Time to get home? An hour and thirty minutes. With violin.
james_davis_nicoll
andrewducker
365tomorrows_feedAuthor: Aubrey Williams You can practically hear the metal creaking, the knocking of lost air-locks and forgotten corridors, as you pass through the graveyard. It’s the Cemetery; replete with hulks, a collection of battle-blasted wrecked vehicles on the dull edge of the nebula. People have conflicting accounts of whether it was a battlefield or simply […]
The post Salvage appeared first on 365tomorrows.
diaryof_samuelpepys_feedLay long in bed talking and pleasing myself with my wife. —[We have had several examples such as this, in the past few days diary, of Mr. Wheatley tiring of his self-imposed work of censorship. D.W.]— So up and to my office a while and then home, where I found Pembleton, and by many circumstances I am led to conclude that there is something more than ordinary between my wife and him, which do so trouble me that I know not at this very minute that I now write this almost what either I write or am doing, nor how to carry myself to my wife in it, being unwilling to speak of it to her for making of any breach and other inconveniences, nor let it pass for fear of her continuing to offend me and the matter grow worse thereby. So that I am grieved at the very heart, but I am very unwise in being so.
There dined with me Mr. Creed and Captain Grove, and before dinner I had much discourse in my chamber with Mr. Deane, the builder of Woolwich, about building of ships. But nothing could get the business out of my head, I fearing that this afternoon by my wife’s sending every [one] abroad and knowing that I must be at the office she has appointed him to come. This is my devilish jealousy, which I pray God may be false, but it makes a very hell in my mind, which the God of heaven remove, or I shall be very unhappy. So to the office, where we sat awhile.
By and by my mind being in great trouble I went home to see how things were, and there I found as I doubted Mr. Pembleton with my wife, and nobody else in the house, which made me almost mad, and going up to my chamber after a turn or two I went out again and called somebody on pretence of business and left him in my little room at the door (it was the Dutchman, commander of the King’s pleasure boats, who having been beat by one of his men sadly, was come to the office to-day to complain) telling him I would come again to him to speak with him about his business. So in great trouble and doubt to the office, and Mr. Coventry nor Sir G. Carteret being there I made a quick end of our business and desired leave to be gone, pretending to go to the Temple, but it was home, and so up to my chamber, and as I think if they had any intention of hurt I did prevent doing anything at that time, but I continued in my chamber vexed and angry till he went away, pretending aloud, that I might hear, that he could not stay, and Mrs. Ashwell not being within they could not dance. And, Lord! to see how my jealousy wrought so far that I went softly up to see whether any of the beds were out of order or no, which I found not, but that did not content me, but I staid all the evening walking, and though anon my wife came up to me and would have spoke of business to me, yet I construed it to be but impudence, and though my heart full yet I did say nothing, being in a great doubt what to do. So at night, suffered them to go all to bed, and late put myself to bed in great discontent, and so to sleep.
dubiousquality_feedAs C said, this is the story that embellishes itself.
It was a straightforward trip to White Plains. A fifteen minute walk to an express bus, then an express train to White Plains, then a ten-minute bus ride to the medical center. A little over an hour and a half.
Looks easy, right?
It was not easy.
Right before we're leaving, I see that the express bus is delayed by over half an hour. Delays of a few minutes are common, but 30+ minutes? Never.
That's okay, though. We can just take the subway.
The subway is jammed, for some reason, and then they announce that everyone has to get off before we even get into Manhattan because of track fires at a station further down the line.
The domino effects builds.
Now a ton of people already jammed onto the train who can't reach their destination have to take an alternate line that has it's own traffic already. That subway car looked like the last copter out of Saigon.
We're not going to be able to take the express train because we're miles away (thanks to the bus/fires etc.), but we can still catch a train to White Plains. No problem.
It only has 15 additional stops.
Then, it doesn't even move for a while. I'm getting stressed at this point. We left at 10 for a 12:45 check-in before the procedure on a trip that should have had us there by 11:40.
In the end, after taking an Uber instead of a bus for the last few miles, we made it. Not by much.
That easy trip of just over an hour and a half became an absolute cluster of a trip for nearly two and a half hours.
Tomorrow, the return trip. It was another planet entirely.
james_davis_nicoll
slacktivist_feedsavagelove_feed - The Thursday Letterjames_davis_nicoll - The Night Ship by Alex Woodroeopusanglicanum_feed - lady and dragonandrewducker - Interesting Links for 28-05-2026365tomorrows_feed - A Simulationplover_feed - Answer Not in Progressdiaryof_samuelpepys_feed - Wednesday 27 May 1663james_davis_nicoll - Assuming for the moment Zealandia has never sunkjames_davis_nicoll - Bundle of Holding: Undying Corruption 5Edubiousquality_feed - It Certainly Wasn't Flawless, part two: The Returnjames_davis_nicoll - KW's version of the 11 foot 8 inch bridge.james_davis_nicoll - Star-planet interaction in the Proxima systemjames_davis_nicoll - My Dress-Up Darling, volume 2 by Shinichi Fukudaandrewducker - Interesting Links for 27-05-2026opusanglicanum_feed - more bunny365tomorrows_feed - Salvagediaryof_samuelpepys_feed - Tuesday 26 May 1663dubiousquality_feed - It Certainly Wasn't Flawlessjames_davis_nicoll - Five Mostly Helpful Mentors in SF and Fantasyslacktivist_feed - Why don’t you come to your senses?branchandroot
