urban

gifset: he bites!

2026-04-06T23:23:07Z

five gifs from gladiator ii (2024.) also on my tumblr & my pf. for whumpril day 2: "bite."

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journal entry: march recap

2026-04-03T19:20:15Z

it’s been a fairly exhausting month, but not bad. i continue to suffer from an unidentified chronic illness, which limits my functional capacity significantly; nevertheless, life goes on. i live, i laugh, i love, i visit my gp frequently. in a historic first, i completed a term paper without torturing myself. huge. i also had an exciting publication come out, and went on a brief research trip for my thesis. i am finding the process of gifmaking very enjoyable; i still have a lot to learn, though, and not as much time in which to experiment as i would like. “gladiator” fever continues to consume me. it may be terminal. sad!

monthly favourites:

book: “frankenstein” by mary shelley. i’ve read it before, about fifteen years ago, but enjoyed reading it again before watching guillermo del toro’s “frankenstein” (2025.)
poem: “how’s that house that raised you?” by lev st. valentine. read it here alongside an interview with the poet.
film: “i swear” (2025) directed by kirk jones & “julius caesar” (2018) directed by phyllida lloyd.
show: “spartacus.” indeed, i like it so much that i had to temporarily bar myself from watching it as it was interfering with the production of my term paper. i look forward to watching the final season as well as “house of ashur.”
album: “this is the life” (2005) by amy macdonald.
meal: i’m really into pesto pasta at the moment. i make the pesto myself with spinach, rocket, dill, garlic, lemon, and silken tofu.
purchase: gold bond hand cream. a game changer! i am moisturised. i am supple. i am slippery.
activity: i attended a silent disco with one of my flatmates and really enjoyed it despite remaining sober. i’ve missed clubbing!

fanworks i created this month:

“clean heart (hyssop & snow.)” gladiator ii. fic on ao3.
“everybody get on the hudpaul train.” rpf. gifset on tumblr, dw, & pf.
“hands.” hamnet. gifset on tumblr, dw, & pf.
“hands & light.” gladiator ii. gifset on tumblr, dw & pf.
“sometimes, darkness.” gladiator ii. fic on ao3.

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gifset: hands

2026-03-21T17:52:50Z

six gifs from hamnet (2025) directed by chloé zhao. also on my tumblr & my pf.

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gifset: everybody get on the hudpaul train

2026-03-17T14:42:39Z

six gifs of paul mescal & hudson williams. co-conspirator: devinwolfi. also on my tumblr & my pf.

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gifset: hands & light

2026-03-02T22:10:15Z

six gifs from gladiator ii (2024.) also on my tumblr & my pf.

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bagbang: urban's be a goldfish [2026-a] masterlist & punch card

2026-03-02T21:38:17Z

i had three goals for this round: to leave forty or more comments, to produce twenty or more works, and to achieve a blackout on my punch card. suffice to say i am feeling quite accomplished having managed the entire trio! i also successfully completed all eight weekly prompts, and one bonus prompt. not every work is a triumph, certainly, and much of it is either a bit silly or somewhat undercooked, but i really enjoyed the challenge.

next time, i hope to leave sixty comments, to complete all the bonus prompts in addition to the weekly prompts, and to work in a wider variety of mediums. things to shoot for! without further ado: my masterlist and punch card.

playlists:

rey skywalker: be with me. star wars. on spotify, tumblr, and dw.
radiant black: i’ve got a cape mode and it’s dope as hell. radiant black. on spotify, tumblr, and dw. [prompt fill for week one: new year, new fandom.]

arts & crafts [both physical & digital:]

a painting of bag end on wood & companion gifs. the lord of the rings. on tumblr and dw. [prompt fill for week four: an oldie but a goodie]
valentine: 2 gorgeous 2 live. monkey attack. gladiator. on tumblr. [prompt fill for week seven: valentines, galentine's, and palentine's.]
valentine: having a shepsi with you & romeants. heated rivalry. on tumblr.

fics:

“at the table in the back.” ted lasso. on ao3 and tumblr. [prompt fill for week three: don’t dodge the draft.]
“blue moon (over glasgow.)” aftersun. on ao3 and tumblr.
“born to trouble.” gladiator. on ao3 and tumblr.
“in blue ink, in water.” gladiator. on ao3 and tumblr.
“linger (look into the sun.)” star wars. on ao3. [written for the threeisnotacrowd 2026 semi-flash.]
“other realms (astonishing blue.)” gladiator. on ao3 and tumblr. [prompt fill for week five: on thursdays we try tropes.]
“sometimes, darkness.” gladiator. on ao3 and tumblr.
“through the ice (padlocks, chains.)” gladiator. on ao3 and tumblr.
“unsettle, blemish, bloody.” gladiator. on ao3 and tumblr.

gifsets:

alan tudyk as steve the pirate. dodgeball. on tumblr.
bloody hands. gladiator. on tumblr and dw.
calum looking after sophie + sophie looking after calum. aftersun. on tumblr.
erin kellyman as saint winifred. the green knight. on tumblr.
hanno looking at ravi. gladiator. on tumblr and dw.
isaac & keeley in pink & purple. ted lasso. on tumblr.
master & apprentice. star wars. on tumblr and dw. [prompt fill for week six: girls, girls, girls.]
may calamawy as fortuna. gladiator. on tumblr.
my top ten hanno suicidal ideation moments. gladiator. on tumblr. [prompt fill for week two: new medium, no tedium.]
rey & chewie in the force awakens (2015.) star wars. on tumblr.
sleep deprivation. gladiator. on tumblr and dw. [prompt fill for week eight: favourite character fiesta and bonus one: epic crossover event.]
the death of arishat. gladiator. on tumblr and dw.
valentine: mason "mush" marchment. hockey rpf. on tumblr.
valentine: sdn's newest helpful janitor. dispatch. on tumblr.
zazie beets as domino. marvel. on tumblr.

[image id: a completed be a goldfish punch card. the card is printed in black and white and is outlined with green washi tape. each of the eight squares is marked off with a shiny dinosaur stickers and the name of the prompt-filling work is written in blue ink. end id.]

for beagoldfish | 29 works | also on my tumblr.

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director's commentary: be not afraid of greatness (thy fates)

2025-07-22T15:03:55Z

hiya, dreamwidth,

inspired by the practice of writing reflective essays following the production of creative work within academic spaces, quite possibly my favourite part of the process, as well as the work of my friend deargalileo and the encouragement of my friend devinwolfi , i want to begin posting reflective commentary on fics i publish. this is a primarily selfish endeavour as i love to yap and above all i love to yap masturbatorily about my creative projects.kicking things off with a commentary on my first gladiator fic, be not afraid of greatness (thy fates.) i bravely resisted the urge to write an essay in the author’s note so i shall write the essay here instead. cheers.

it’s honestly shocking that i even like the gladiator films because i am a very passionate real-world colonialism-hater. my entire creative and academic practice centers around postcolonial theory, and i am regularly engaged in activism and educational work surrounding postcolonial issues. the only justification i can offer for liking “colonialism: the movie,” and “colonialism: the sequel,” which is somehow worse, is this: i try to switch off my critical brain for two hours each time i watch one of them and instead allow my pervert brain to run the show. the whole time i was writing this fic i was actively and intentionally pushing aside critical notions so that i could focus on being a sicko but it was very challenging. frankly, i didn’t succeed, because as i give the fic another look i see all the telltale signs that i was being analytical and doing themes and shit. there is just so much to criticise in the context of “gladiator ii;” the framing of acacius, noted active enforcer of colonial agendas and systems, as a hero or “good man” was particularly egregious in my mind. i was also frankly mystified by the way in which hanno is positioned as a sort of palatable victim of colonial violence for white audiences while simultaneously being hailed as heir apparent to an imperial empire and thus also an enforcer of oppressive systems. he should have been trying to blow that whole thing up but instead he was like “actually, rome is under bad management. if only there were a good emperor… like my grandfather…” and the film itself, heavy-handed, was like “i wonder who could take over as a good emperor… we need a hero…” (cut to paul mescal looking like a roman bust.) amazing.

i did fridge lucilla. in my defense the film also fridges lucilla. it’s not as shitty as it might be, considering she makes it to the third act, but it’s in alignment with how both the original film and the sequel alike consistently treat women. dead wives. women with no power or agency. that sort of thing. hilarious, actually, how “gladiator ii” is like wait. no. feminism. this time the dead wife is a badass. she dies in battle. which is totally a different thing and not fridging at all. i fear you do not get it at all, ridley. no. truthfully lucilla is improved as a character and does have a great deal more agency in the second film but i wish that her entire arc was less centered on her son and her husbands past and present. relatedly, she really has a type. anything to lock down a moderately troubled roman general. i also return acacius to the land of the living which is decidedly out of character for me. i love tragedy and misery and on-screen death. however, i determined that having him survive actually allowed space for more misery. nothing to create a distinctly unhappy environment for hanno like living through the aftermath of the death of his mother with the colonising bastard who killed his wife and literally enslaved him. it’s like beauty and the beast except for all the differences.

anyway. without further ado, my commentary.

“be not afraid of greatness.
some are born great, some achieve greatness, and
some have greatness thrust upon ’em. thy fates open
their hands. let thy blood and spirit embrace them.”
- william shakespeare, “twelfth night,” act two scene five

shakespeare is a recurring theme with me. “twelfth night” is my third-favourite play. the first is “othello” and the second “macbeth,” for the curious. this specific quotation is, of course, incredibly well-known, as a popular sort of phrase, but i am interested in it here specifically for its ironic connotations. it works both for the casual reader and those more inclined towards the shakespearean; to the novice, it appears a sincere statement on the nature of greatness, but to those familiar with the play, it functions satirically. within “twelfth night,” this quotation exists as a portion of a letter, written in order to manipulate; there is no true greatness to be achieved or received, and certainly there is no inborn greatness in the character it is addressed to. i think this works very well to foreshadow the lack of greatness keenly felt by all in the fic. rome, of course, feels its lack of an emperor. hanno lacks any meaningful present connection to his birthright nobility and feels even further disconnected from the greatness thrust upon him in the present. acacius feels bound to cultivate some greatness in him, to force him to achieve it, but in his efforts to do so only reveal further lack. the demands of perceived greatness are inhumane and force everyone involved into shapes they do not suit. acacius cannot perform the kind of goodness and justice he is meant to possess; he is ruined by the evil he has done and even when there is some sort of goodness in his heart it is tainted. hanno is ruined too; by his own flaws, and by the hurt done to him, and as a result he cannot perform the kind of nobility that is expected of him as heir apparent.

i’m writing because there is no other conduit for my grief. i’m writing because i miss you. i’m writing to apologise. i’m writing because i am alone; not in body, but in heart. you were my only confidant, my only friend. the villa is empty of life without you even as life goes on.

i am an unrepentant epistolary fan and i will keep writing it until i am parted from my keyboard by the grave itself.

he finds lucius in the colosseum, after.

my feelings regarding the conclusion of “gladiator ii” are mixed. on a purely enjoyment level i liked it quite a lot; the tragedy of survival is compelling and certainly grievous, though not quite comparable to the catharsis provided by the death of maximus in the first film. from a purely analytical perspective, however, i think it does not work as well as it should; there is a sort of anticlimax that does not feel intentional or effective. it feels illogical, too. hanno seems increasingly suicidal throughout the third act and his final vision of arishat seems to indicate that he will soon join her. at the conclusion of the conflict he goes to the epicentre of his grief, which seems a likely place for a resolution, whether through suicide or esoteric emotional experience, but nothing happens. there is no catharsis. i do not mind an ending which allows viewers to draw their own conclusions; however, in this case it probably was done in order to leave ridley scott plenty of space to try and squeak out another gladiator film this decade. my initial conception for this fic was a suicide coda: hanno kills himself. the end. short, sweet, simple. unfortunately i immediately conceived of a more interesting extended unhappiness and everything spiralled from there.

there is no indication of an organised search for something, no intelligent intent, and lucius is too clever a man to operate recklessly. this is calculated chaos; defiance. an act of provocation, and in the midst of it, lucius, cross-legged, leafing impatiently, seemingly carelessly, through a musty stack of papyrus. he meant for acacius to find him here: that much is clear. he’s begging acacius to crack. testing, testing.

i felt it was important to establish hanno early on as not only mistrusting but also clever. there is generally a dearth of characterisation surrounding his qualities as an individual in the film; sure, sure, he’s a gladiator, he’s angry, he’s grappling with the weight of expectation, of course, but what else? there is little else textually. a subtextual reading demands that we perceive him as perhaps inordinately intelligent or at least gifted in a military capacity; despite any kind of canonical military experience, aside from the defensive, he is very strategically capable and muddles successfully through fights which he fully ought to have lost. he loses his sword quite frequently, or otherwise puts himself in disadvantaged positions, but still makes it out. wrath, of course, is a good motivator; but it does not necessarily a champion make.

he hides, undignified, in his office. it has been set right. whether by lucius, regretful, or by another hand, acacius knows not. he tries not to think of it, but an image of lucius straightening books with the same sort of precious attention to detail as his mother, hands gentle for once, flashes behind his eyes.

it was hanno. in the original draft of this fic, some scenes were written from his point of view; the righting of the office, for example, and the first sex scene, as well as a scene exploring how hanno discovered that julian aquilius had visited acacius. i may at some stage polish and publish some of those portions as one-shots set within the greater stars shine darkly (foul is fair) narrative.

acacius is not equal to this task. he cannot make an emperor. all he knows is war; at best, he could make a soldier. hanno is already a soldier and war has taken all he has to give.

this is very loosely a reference to “ender’s game” by orson scott card, a classic sci-fi novel. if you haven’t read it, you ought. towards the conclusion of the book, the titular character, ender, is physically, emotionally, and psychologically devastated by his time as a military commander. i wanted to evoke a similar notion regarding hanno: that his time as a gladiator, his time as an enslaved person, short as it was, devastated him in every possible way. psychological ruinment is obviously of great general interest to me.

above him, the dogs, dulcis and sollemne, wrestle. barking and growling and bowing and play-biting.

a cameo from my own dogs, those rascals. lucilla has a couple sighthounds, canonically; but i choose to ignore that in favour of inserting my dogs and their personalities. i am a typical annoying dog dad and i constantly subject everyone around me to pictures and stories.

an excess of letters come and go. most are sycophantic.

i never miss an opportunity to use the word “sycophantic.”

acacius is a man now. a general. his hand is firm.

extremely unsubtle foreshadowing.

“you whip everyone who disobeys you?” lucius has turned cold. this is the shape of his anger, now; icy. his jaw set hard.

i’m really perversely fascinated by the way the film positions hanno as a palatable white victim. it cannot be denied that he is a victim, of course; but he never suffers anything which threatens his position of masculine power. he is not colonised despite the direct enactment of colonial violence upon him. sure, his wife is murdered, he’s enslaved, and he’s forced to engage in violence in order to survive. sure. he’s never humiliated, though: never emasculated or dehumanised. by virtue of some indefinable quality, perhaps circumstance of birth, he constantly escapes any true degradation. outside of the arena, wherein he can fight back, he never experiences the kind of violence enslaved people historically did. of particular interest to me is the way in which everyone of any emotional significance to hanno is murdered by way of arrow. it feels heavy-handed, nearly; the penetrative nature of arrows calls to mind parallels between colonialism and rape. hanno himself, though, always escapes penetration. he is not colonised and he is not shot and he is certainly not brutalised. cut and dry, all of this is unsurprising. hanno essentially functions as an embodied white masculine power fantasy and therefore cannot show perceived weakness nor cope with any harm which might make him appear anything but strong.

i am decidedly disinterested in preserving any notion of masculine white power and furthermore i love pain, suffering, misery, angst, and weakness; thus, i worked to create space in this fic for hanno to have suffered more and with less rugged cowboy dignity than he did canonically.

thus, acacius determines to begin a brutal campaign of civilisation. these are things he knows: brutality, campaigns, civilising. he has brought nations to their knees. he has conquered distant lands; made provinces of wildernesses and slaves of the armies that raised their hands against him. he has had no small part in shaping the glory of rome.

come closer. i am normal about colonialism. read "discourse on colonialism" by aimé césaire.

there is so much fucking blood. blood like the aftermath of a slaughter, like an emptied battlefield; it mingles with the mud. it stains lucius’s skin and his white tunic, and poppy’s pale yellow apron. and now, acacius’s hands. it’s his left wrist; cut open, it must be, but acacius cannot see. the wound itself is shrouded in layers of bloody cloth and held, staunched, by poppy’s firm, steady hands. hanno himself is as pale as one already dead, though he lives yet. miraculously, perhaps, he still draws shallow breaths. his eyes are open, glassy, bloodshot, and he says nothing.

i feel very strongly that hanno demonstrates a suicidal tendency throughout the film. he is fixated on reuniting with arishat in the afterlife; he is not able to grieve, certainly, lacking in physical, mental, and emotional space, but to an extent he seems disinterested in grief. why should he grieve when he intends to shortly join his wife in death? he is a risk-taker, frequently reckless, and he survives mostly out of spite. following the events of the film, it is difficult to imagine hanno coping well or at all. lacking in ongoing external threats to his life i think it is reasonable to conclude that he might demonstrate interest in actively ending his own life. additionally, of course, i’m perpetually interested in suicidal characters, character death, and the tragedy of survival.

good to him. what mad, feckless audacity. acacius swallows hot wrath like magma. “what the fuck does that mean?”

acacius as an intolerable hypocrite is a notion i find myself regularly returning to. i think it is sort of inevitable. canonically, he purports to be a good man who loathes the campaigns the emperors direct; nonetheless, he carries out colonial violence without hesitation. a really potent and memorable form of hypocrisy in my mind. here, he demonstrates a great deal of outrage upon learning that hanno has been raped, but by and large disregards his own involvement in it. i did not intend to portray him as entirely unsympathetic, of course; but i do think i have often made him difficult to empathise with.

“he didn’t rape me.” lucius lets his hands fall into his lap. his face is terrible: utterly empty of expression, haunting in its blankness. “i let it happen. never fought. i never fought any of them.”
“whether you fought matters little.”

even a broken clock is right twice a day.

lucius makes no move to contest aelius. worse: he makes himself small. he allows this humiliation. “sorry, master. i’m sorry. i wasn’t…” he struggles. “i wasn’t going anywhere.”
“shh,” acacius says. he can’t bear to hear this; this fumbling, pathetic fear. this apology that is not owed. he wants him to fight, to put up a struggle, to shout, to curse, to show that awful, unending wrath, to turn it on someone deserving; to kill aelius where he stands, not apologise. “i know.”
“shut up,” aelius says, simultaneously, and cuffs hanno. hanno jerks, but makes no sound; aelius’s ring nicks his cheek, and he bleeds.

as a rule i am an incredibly self-critical person. i doubt my work to an extent which might be described as excessive. here, however, i am quite pleased with my writing: thus, a little emphasis, for the purpose of bragging.

hanno, who is really a kicked dog, crawls nearer to him.

at the time of writing this i was totally unaware that paul mescal had stated on multiple occasions that he was inspired by dogs in characterising hanno. i just went on my oracle-like instinct.

“better to be beaten than crucified for killing a roman.”

i wish there were more crucifixion outside of the typical christian context in media and i will be the change if i must.

“not like this, though,” acacius says. “not on your knees.”
“it’s easiest like this,” hanno says. he rests his chin on acacius’s knee; slides his strong hand up the back of his calf. “you can pretend it doesn’t mean anything. look away. i can be anybody. i can be your slave. i can be her.”

i feel i was painfully heavy-handed here: but in my initial draft of this scene it was not clear that hanno is manipulating acacius. i strongly wished to avoid veering into the territory of perfect victimhood. acacius is a cunt, yes; but so is hanno. they just express it differently.

this whole scene was authentically agonising. despite a handful of relevant creative writing degrees and many years of widely varied writing, i had never written a sex scene before. this presented numerous challenges, i confess; but the primary obstacle i faced was self-consciousness. it feels absolutely humiliating to write sex when you have not done and this life-threatening sense of shame bogged me down extendedly.

“i’m trying,” acacius says again. he kisses lucius’s hip and soothes, runs his hands over his powerful flank and up his broad, sword-bitten sides. he’s not struck or murdered or bit again for it, which he supposes is a miracle. hanno’s mouth curves unhappily. his breath is quick. “you have to try too.”

i love the word “flank.” it’s used to describe the bodies of animals, usually; thus it confers an animalistic quality when used to describe a man. additionally, where the fuck is the flank? is it the ass? the hip? the side? i certainly don’t know.

acacius, weak and perhaps destined for foolishness, allows himself to take hanno’s jaw in hand; to run his thumb over his chapped lips. lucilla’s mouth, nearly.

if everyone could suspend their disbelief and join me in pretending that connie nielsen and paul mescal have any sort of resemblance whatsoever that would be great.

“never,” acacius says, allowing some awful, bitter emotion, grievous, to rise up in him, to bloom and blossom and pour out of his mouth. his voice breaks again. “but she’s gone, and it’s your fault. you let her die and you cannot replace her.”

though there is precious little space within the film itself for hanno wrestle with the death of his mother i think it is reasonable to assume that he might blame himself. regardless of the injustice of the situation he was meant to protect her in the arena; and ultimately, failed at doing so. i suspect he might carry a great deal of guilt with him, especially after also witnessing arishat die in a similar manner. why shouldn’t acacius blame him, too? here acacius wields that guilt as a cudgel; to deflect the burden of responsibility, of course, but also to reciprocally manipulate hanno.

“i’m sorry,” he says. “hanno, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

t-shirt that says “i love hypocrisy and hypocrites.”

lucius, doglike, cowers too.

if the number of times i compared hanno to a dog in this fic was tallied i would be convicted of excess and masturbatory obsession with symbolism in a court of law. possibly the hague.

that’s all from me. this marks my third participation in julybreakbingopresents. my card consists of five squares, and this entry fulfills the second-from-the-left square: “feeling like a fraud and/or doubting themself.” as aforementioned i tend towards self-doubt, and thus i feel practicing a bit of self-congratulation in the form of a director’s commentary both fulfills the prompt and challenges my own hypercritical norm. bragging about my own work did make me break out in hives a little bit.

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bagbang: jollof fever

2025-06-07T17:02:22Z

hiya, dreamwidth,

happy bangin’! which is to say: we’re a little over halfway through be a goldfish: a ted lasso multimedia microbang, and i’m feeling good. this week i deviated slightly from the fanwork standard and i have elected to participate through the out-of-the-box medium of cooking. i made nigerian jollof rice inspired by sam obisanya and his restaurant, ola’s.

i have been interested in this dish for some time now but it has taken time to hone in on a suitable recipe. some recipes contained ingredients which clashed with my own dietary restrictions; others, ingredients i could not easily procure, even at an african grocery. an initial experiment, inspired by a recipe found in “classic nigerian food recipes,” a cookbook by michael toye faleti, came out nearly intolerable for my weak palate. though she [scotch bonnet peppers] be but little, she is fierce [incredibly spicy.] all credit belongs to my friend vinny, who did the legwork and located all nigerian recipes, a fantastic resource which compiles traditional igbo recipes in both written and video form. i recommend accessing this site with an ad blocker but be not deterred: it really is worth a look.

i have found the jollof rice process to be fairly time-consuming though worthwhile; it consists of four major steps. the first, and most labour-intensive: making nigerian tomato stew. i chose to make significantly less stew than the recipe calls for in light of limited freezer space; however, in hindsight, i wish i made more. it’s convenient to have on hand but requires too much effort to be casually prepared. i used 600g of baby plum tomatoes, half an onion, and approximately two tablespoons of tomato paste, and got about two and a half cups of tomato stew. it’s definitely a recipe that requires focus: it cannot be left alone for any length of time. i know this firsthand because the devil spoke to me and told me that i could leave it alone for a little while. i could not. i found that as flo states in her video adaptation of the recipe, i could smell when the stew was properly fried; it went from a neutral cooking smell to very appetising.

the recipe was relatively hands-off for the remainder of the process. i did the next two steps in tandem: preparing the chicken stock and parboiling the rice. again, i made less than the recipe called for; for the stock, i used three cubed chicken breasts, the other half of the onion, one knorr cube, and a pinch of thyme, and left it alone on the hob. for the parboiled rice, i used two cups of rice and likewise left it, occasionally popping over to stir both pots. once the chicken was cooked through, i incorporated a cup of the tomato stew and brought it to a boil; then, i added the drained rice, as well as two cups of mixed frozen vegetables and the nigerian curry powder. i used two tablespoons of curry powder, significantly more than the recipe calls for, because i like the flavour; it was still quite mild and i might add a third tablespoon in the future. i again left this final pot alone on the hob, covered and occasionally stirring. it took a little over an hour to dry up and once cooled and divided i got about seven generous meals out of it!

this recipe has quickly become a favourite of mine. it’s hearty, nourishing, and comforting, and i appreciate the save for initial preparation and the tomato stew it is primarily hands-off. it works especially well for me in a meal-prepping capacity; while it cooks i can multitask and focus most of my attention on other meals. i have also found that it reheats nicely both on the hob and in the microwave. i’m very pleased to have tackled it; often, i feel overwhelmed by recipes with multiple, time-consuming steps, and i give up before i’ve even tried it or hunt for a less complicated version. the labour is worthwhile in this case and i feel emboldened to try other difficult recipes in the future. i would also like to attempt putting more of a ted lasso twist on the recipe, perhaps by incorporating elements of a cowboy stew or using chicken prepared kansas city bbq-style, which is usually sweet and tomato-centric, rather than plain.

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journal entry: three

2025-05-13T23:58:49Z

hiya, dreamwidth,

well, it’s been a minute [not a minute. four months.] since i last posted. whoops. in my defense i have been busy [this is true but i have not actually been too busy for dreamwidth, if my tumblr habits are any indicator.] i’ve recently [not recently. a month ago.] completed lent. i am not by any means spectacularly religious but i typically participate in lent; i feel positively towards the notion of giving something up, particularly something challenging, for the purpose of reflection and reevaluation. this year i gave up television and youtube. the specific parameters of my self-imposed restrictions allowed me to continue watching films, but everything else was strictly off the table. my primary reason for giving up the two had to do with how frequently i found myself watching rubbish in lieu of doing anything else. rather than reading, or watching a good film or an interesting television show, or writing, or engaging in a creative activity, or listening to music, or sitting quietly, or doing literally anything productive, i would watch youtube, or i would re-watch a less-than-stellar show, a cartoon or reality or something otherwise mediocre-to-outright-bad. it did not enlighten me, educate me, or even really provide enjoyment; in fact, i was often irritated by what i saw, especially on youtube. ultimately i felt the two were to my overall detriment, psychologically, emotionally, and otherwise; and so i gave them up.

i did anticipate some difficulty with the month-and-a-half of lent, but i confess not as much as i actually experienced; i immediately struggled with the urge to watch youtube especially. it felt a lot like quitting cigarettes and i was frequently frustrated with myself as a result of this difficulty; it seemed to me that giving up the two ought to be relatively easy, especially as i could still watch films, but it was not. far from it. i had established a pattern in which i was somewhat reliant on these things to get through my day: a funny video while i got showered and dressed, an episode over every meal, an endless train of videos in the background as i worked, a few episodes before bed, even a video as i fell asleep. it was constant. as i adjusted to altering these habits, i made use of substitutes, especially initially; for example, i watched a film in portions over breakfast, lunch, and dinner. as i got further into lent, though, it got easier to operate without substitutes and to limit my intake of films and music exclusively for the purpose of mindless stimulation.

i found that i began to watch films more earnestly almost immediately, checking movies off my watchlist; previously, i sometimes struggled with watching new movies. i also did a lot of reading and writing for pleasure, and i dedicated more attention and time to my academic and professional reading and writing, too. i also found that i had more interest in pursuing creative and fannish projects. it was very refreshing to feel connected with my hobbies again. it was unpleasant to come to the realisation that something i allowed myself to engage with so frequently and extensively was doing me harm rather than good; but i truly believe that trash television and youtube were wreaking havoc on my attention span and creative capacity, much like mainstream social media did before i gave it up some years ago.

i confess that i struggled, at least in moments of weakness, until the very end. i remained committed, though, and did not cheat; now that lent is over and i could, theoretically, watch youtube again, i realise that i am totally disinterested in it. i am essentially no longer engaging with the platform whatsoever. it simply does not appeal to me; any enjoyment i might get from it seems less to me than the enjoyment i might get from doing literally anything else. my television habits have also changed significantly. i watch very little; what i do watch is intentional. i have heavily curated my watchlist and i am really only interested in shows which i feel will enlighten, educate, inspire, or otherwise fascinate or challenge me. i also usually select a movie before i turn on a show. the one show that i do find myself watching and rewatching quite frequently, sometimes daily, is “ted lasso;” but it’s a good show, one that i actively enjoy. i do not as of now put it on just to have something on, either; i watch it intentionally. ultimately i feel that my lent was quite successful. while it is possible that i will lapse into old habits again, thus far i have not; they no longer feel worthwhile or frankly even interesting. occasionally, the urge to open youtube hits me; i ride it out rather than immediately succumbing, and i have found that it passes very quickly. i continue to spend more time engaging with hobbies i enjoy and i find that the practice of sitting in silence regularly serves me well. a happy outcome!

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journal entry: two

2025-01-21T23:23:04Z

hiya, dreamwidth!

well, i'm back on the grind. the brief, four-day dicking around period between arriving home and my return to uni was all too short and i spent much of it getting extremely intense about deep-cleaning and organizing my flat. it's tidy as shit in here. already i am suspiciously busy; classes, of course, and homework, and the usual obligations, but i've also managed to jam my calendar with social situations and miscellaneous work. i need the pressure of stress to be a semi-productive member of society.

lately, i have been feeling inspired to make a small zine. i've had it on the brain, casually, for a while; i even have a sideblog on tumblr where i collect inspiration. my interest has grown more intense these past few weeks. i spend a lot of time thinking about it, and i take a lot of notes, but i'm still not sure exactly what i want to do. unlike me, as i tend to be decisive. execution feels a bit overwhelming to me at the moment, as does choosing a medium in which to work. i'm not great with broad projects. i work best in small increments. i'm participating in royjamie bingo this year, hosted by carmen, and i think it might be a good place to start. a zine i can scan and upload digitally. something small. something themed. it seems manageable. a zine about gladiator, the original or the sequel, might be fun too, as i have been thinking about that a lot. i hope to sit down this weekend and try to begin on something concrete.

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journal entry: one

2025-01-16T22:57:27Z

hi dreamwidth!

my arch-enemy and mutual vinny has advised that i explore writing on this site for a while; i have been spectacularly resistant because i am a creature of habit, which is to say a tumblr addict, and also because i am scared of html. vinny has been saintlike in tolerating my lies and bullshit ("yeah, i'm definitely going to post on dreamwidth," "i'll read an article about html," etc.,) but the truth is i really am interested in doing a bit of longer-form blogging. i like tumblr but i don't care for writing extensively there; i usually keep things short and sweet. still, i have things to yap about. postcolonial theory, for example, and books, and mediocre-to-bad movies. i'm hoping to try and post an entry of some sort, be it a journal entry, a note on what i'm reading, watching, or listening to, a critical semi-academic essay on theory, or just a link to whatever i'm doing on tumblr, ao3, or spotify. be sure to cyberbully me if it seems like i'm slacking or continuing the saga of dreamwidth-related lies.

it would be very convenient if for my first journal entry i could write about what i've been up to in january, but i've been up to fuck all, really. fuck all of interest, anyway. i definitely managed to find shit to do. i live in the uk, but i visited my parents in the states for the holidays. i ought to have been footloose, free to sleep until noon and spend my days reading books, taking tyrannical control of the television, and wrestling my dogs, but i managed to bring my work with me. i have an awful habit of putting things off until the last second as i operate best under extreme pressure and loads of guilt. university finals! applications for my next degree! various items of paperwork! awful. i spent a lot of time hunched, shrimplike, over my laptop, but i was in the same room as my mom so it counts for spending time with her.

despite my various tasks i did manage to sneak in fun things. i spent a lot of time with my dogs, who i missed more, perhaps, than anyone. my mom, dad, and i enjoyed some favourite foods i miss here in scotland; our beloved thai place, which serves a potato curry so spicy it makes me cry every time i eat it, an authentic boba place, a few greasy diners, detroit-style pizza, of course, and some good fucking american cheeseburgers. my mom and i hung out quite a lot, did some shopping, and had an adventure at the mall, as one of our shared hobbies is people-watching. my dad and i went to the cinema together and saw gladiator ii, which was life-changing and terrible and excellent all at once. i'll say a bit more on it later, i'm sure. i visited my best friend to celebrate yule and we baked our asses off. baked, here, refers to making sourdough. spending a bit more time with vinny, em, and daisy was nice, too. the time difference between us can be a bit tough, sometimes; i'm no longer awake for late-night chats, but i got to enjoy them again for a bit. all this to say it was a very nice holiday, and i'm here now, and i'm excited to get involved in the dreamwidth community.

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