I've been trying to write IxH (Iryoki/Hikaru, original characters) fic for the past few hours but I keep getting interrupted, agh. So far I have... one and a half sentences. I think I'll take a break and watch anime.

Aside from that, I have a couple of poems lined up for calligraphy, but for some reason or another I can't start. Which is a little worrying, since I do have deadlines.

Also I need to fix my bookshelves since I have fifty or so books scattered around the house whose covers are getting dusty and tattered, but---

And I even haven't updated my "books read in 2008" list -- I've finished thirty or more since the last update -- and am afraid I'll forget everything and have to start all over again...

Gah.

</whine> (cheese plz)

Anyway:



I remembered a birthday, yay! (Though it was mostly because I paid attention to my flist greetings this time. I suck at dates, srsly.)

Oh look, it's a recipe!

Basic caramel
1/2 c unsalted butter
1 c sugar
1 1/4c cream

Cook butter and sugar over medium heat until golden-brown. Slowly add cream (slowly because if you dump it in all at once you will get scalded) and let it cook for a minute or so, stirring constantly, until you reach the desired thickness.

I had to experiment with this (and even now you'll note the temperature info is not that precise) because summer heat affects the cooking time and even how high you should have the fire.

You can use this caramel to: cook fruit in (bananas and apples especially), top ice cream and other desserts, glaze pastry, etc etc.

Right now I need cheering up, so I'm going to cook it and use it as cookie filling. BBL.

--

Edit: So while I'm waiting for butter to soften...

I was looking at the Fandom Secrets and Roleplay Secrets communities a while ago and-- wow, there are a lot of insecure people on LJ, aren't there? So many lonely people, too. It would be very funny if it weren't somewhat sad.

I'm not really a fan in the "member of FANDOM IN ALL ITS GLORY" sense of the word. I like some anime and manga. Occasionally I write stories about them, the majority of which never leave my head for the less comfortable territory of the digital world. But I don't feel the need to interact with other fans (it's very nice, of course, and I love sharing my interests with my friends, but fandom for the sake of fandom, I can do without) nor the desire to win the approval of other people (exception: I look for feedback from friends who have encouraged me to write about all sorts of crazy things, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE). So all this self-seeking, narrow-mindedness, outright hostility... it's utterly foreign to me. I will not say incomprehensible, because I understand insecurity all too well.

It's saddening to see so many people looking for -- no, rather, expecting -- close friendship and affection in fandom communities, then lashing out violently when they feel betrayed. Or young writers judging each other solely by how well they turn sentences or spin illusions; fans twisting characters to fit their own molds of how those characters should be, then turning on each other when their molds do not match; people supposedly bound together by their mutual love for a work of art ripping each other apart. Out of-- what? Loneliness? Spite? A need to be proved superior? But then again, superiority contests are pointless, not only on the internet but in real life as well.

I see writers desperate for affirmation, out to (heh) show the world that hey, they're witty and smart (!). The thing is, does it really matter if you're more intelligent than the average person? Will it guarantee a happy life? I'm reasonably certain my IQ is way above the average -- in high school, during the yearly tests we took, my results didn't even appear on the scale -- but what does it matter, when it comes to loving and losing and winning and rising from defeat? What will it matter, ten years from now? Fifty?

I'm not saying that intelligence necessarily goes with pride or meanness of spirit. But there have been times I've wished I could trade my brain for a little more kindness, a softer heart. I may be smart but I'm also a bitter, sharp-tongued shrew, and I don't find any joy in that. Putting people down by dint of your superior intellect might seem fun, but it's a hollow amusement.

--

This reminds me of one of the reasons I decided to be selfish and write not to be read, but write for people. I wrote once,

When you write you must have something meaningful to say. Something larger than your characters. Something that doesn’t belong just to them, but to truth.

There must be purpose. There must be meaning. And it must be comprehensible outside that world.

As long as I can see that in my writing, exceptions being made for crack and PWP and fluff, I'm happy. It doesn't matter if anyone hears what I'm saying or not. Birds will sing whether or not your ears are open.

--

Anyway, I'm going to go back to my caramel oatmeal bars.