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Dec. 1st, 2018 03:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marithI used to dye my hair (burgundy) with a home kit years ago, until I realized my dexterity was not up to the task, and now I remember why. Good lord salon coloring is EXPENSIVE. Instead of my tumbled mess of everything from blonde to dark brown to flat grey to silver, I now have this straight fall of cinnamon that behaves meekly when brushed. It did make a difference - I think a stranger might take me for ten years younger, now.
The Steerswoman books are still enjoyable, though now that I know the twists and have read bunch more other top-class SF they don't awe me anymore. I find myself increasingly remembering that SF is as much about the world the author lives in as it is about the future world they're imagining. Ten years ago I didn't notice so much, but in the first few chapters Rowan meets an arrogant guy who treats her as a servant, has an argument with a male colleague who reflexively insists he cannot possibly be wrong and who is she to tell him how to steers, and watches another male colleague hit on the head of the order in a meeting, like he has a thousand times before, and have to be put off gently with due respect for his feelings like a thousand times before. It's thousands of years in the future in an unknown place, and yet it's like looking into another sort of mirror. (But now I'm in the Outskirts,and I remember those parts as being delightfully different and vivid; I wonder what will jump out to my eye now?)
No cooking last night because I was tired, though I did caramelize some onions. Did you know there is apparently a low-grade Onion Conspiracy among recipe sites? No one wants to admit that it can take 45 minutes to get them properly browned and sweet, because that doesn't make for an alluringly clickable Easy Weeknight Dinner, so they all lie and say 10-15 minutes. It is very confusing to the novice cook.
Tonight, friends and anime!
The Steerswoman books are still enjoyable, though now that I know the twists and have read bunch more other top-class SF they don't awe me anymore. I find myself increasingly remembering that SF is as much about the world the author lives in as it is about the future world they're imagining. Ten years ago I didn't notice so much, but in the first few chapters Rowan meets an arrogant guy who treats her as a servant, has an argument with a male colleague who reflexively insists he cannot possibly be wrong and who is she to tell him how to steers, and watches another male colleague hit on the head of the order in a meeting, like he has a thousand times before, and have to be put off gently with due respect for his feelings like a thousand times before. It's thousands of years in the future in an unknown place, and yet it's like looking into another sort of mirror. (But now I'm in the Outskirts,and I remember those parts as being delightfully different and vivid; I wonder what will jump out to my eye now?)
No cooking last night because I was tired, though I did caramelize some onions. Did you know there is apparently a low-grade Onion Conspiracy among recipe sites? No one wants to admit that it can take 45 minutes to get them properly browned and sweet, because that doesn't make for an alluringly clickable Easy Weeknight Dinner, so they all lie and say 10-15 minutes. It is very confusing to the novice cook.
Tonight, friends and anime!
