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sundries
- I have survived my first two responsibilities of the day mainly by being too tired to panic. I've had red bull, vitamin water, tylenol and a gluten-free brownie. I almost feel human. Now I can settle into the long haul of my last deadline of the day.
- Freelance writing loves me. Got $100 worth of work I can probably do in 2 hours or less. In case you didn't know, I am a workaholic, although I am trying to master those tendencies.
- Patty and I are having a date on Saturday. We're going to the museum in the evening and listening to live music there and having a bit of wine and cheese. It will be lovely because we are always lovely.
- I should get on this birthday party thing. Which means a) telling people and b) cleaning the house. Probably in the opposite order. I am going to be 36 a week from Saturday! 36! Cripes! Still don't look it though, do I?
- I have entered the fray on the infamous Doctor Who forums. Well, I just posted an intro post is all. Used the polaroid of me as Jack for an avatar while being very conscious of gender, status and desirability drama and things I have heard about that forum. I used to be such the expert and yet also so incompetent at playing the cute girl card on the Internet, and I have to say that even if I didn't come with gender issues, the pure ickiness of that bullshit would have given me some.
- Anyway, For something I have no time for, I am over-thinking it. But then, that's what I do. I used to say I wanted to be paid for being clever -- I largely am. But maybe I just want to be paid for being neurotic. Come to think of it, I also largely am.
- On that note, I am deeply cognizant of all the weird ways (aside from the obvious ways) in which I have privilege lately, and how I have designed my life to suit my Libran tendencies. When you live lots of different lives all at once you have to make decisions about very few things. I hope that doesn't make me sound like a coward, because I loathe that possibility for myself more than perhaps anything.
- Even my mother things I look like Rachel Maddow when I have short hair. I should be her for Halloween. Rachel Maddow. Not my mom. I am envious of Maddow's CV in a way that makes me melancholy over the desires I had for my life when I was 14. I wonder who I would have been were I not such an underachiever as a teen. Probably not Rachel Maddow. Probably someone more typical than I am or more committed to faking the normalcy. It all worked out okay, I guess, even if my parents still ask me why I'm not on TV. I am happy.
- I won't actually be Rachel Maddow for Halloween. I have no plan on that score yet. Heh, if Michael and I were still the sort that might possibly do anything on Halloween together we could totally have been Maddow and Olberman. God, that is the most fucked realization perhaps EVER.
- I had to leave fencing early last night my head was pounding so badly. I'll write about it later.
- Hewitt reunion dinner? $85 a plate. Open bar, nice restaurant, but I find suddenly I don't care. Not even tiny bit. Although I regret that just a little. Because it would all be so funny. They usually have a tea at some point though. I'll do that I suppose. $85 a plate! Dear Hewitt, we are only mortal and the world's finances are collapsing and the great men we are all supposedly descended from would surely be jumping to their deaths were this actually our great Society past. $85 is like a memo to a lost world.
- Meanwhile, whoever you are, I probably still owe you email.
- Hey! GIP!
When combined with the icon used on this post, I am irrationally yet predictably amused.
- Freelance writing loves me. Got $100 worth of work I can probably do in 2 hours or less. In case you didn't know, I am a workaholic, although I am trying to master those tendencies.
- Patty and I are having a date on Saturday. We're going to the museum in the evening and listening to live music there and having a bit of wine and cheese. It will be lovely because we are always lovely.
- I should get on this birthday party thing. Which means a) telling people and b) cleaning the house. Probably in the opposite order. I am going to be 36 a week from Saturday! 36! Cripes! Still don't look it though, do I?
- I have entered the fray on the infamous Doctor Who forums. Well, I just posted an intro post is all. Used the polaroid of me as Jack for an avatar while being very conscious of gender, status and desirability drama and things I have heard about that forum. I used to be such the expert and yet also so incompetent at playing the cute girl card on the Internet, and I have to say that even if I didn't come with gender issues, the pure ickiness of that bullshit would have given me some.
- Anyway, For something I have no time for, I am over-thinking it. But then, that's what I do. I used to say I wanted to be paid for being clever -- I largely am. But maybe I just want to be paid for being neurotic. Come to think of it, I also largely am.
- On that note, I am deeply cognizant of all the weird ways (aside from the obvious ways) in which I have privilege lately, and how I have designed my life to suit my Libran tendencies. When you live lots of different lives all at once you have to make decisions about very few things. I hope that doesn't make me sound like a coward, because I loathe that possibility for myself more than perhaps anything.
- Even my mother things I look like Rachel Maddow when I have short hair. I should be her for Halloween. Rachel Maddow. Not my mom. I am envious of Maddow's CV in a way that makes me melancholy over the desires I had for my life when I was 14. I wonder who I would have been were I not such an underachiever as a teen. Probably not Rachel Maddow. Probably someone more typical than I am or more committed to faking the normalcy. It all worked out okay, I guess, even if my parents still ask me why I'm not on TV. I am happy.
- I won't actually be Rachel Maddow for Halloween. I have no plan on that score yet. Heh, if Michael and I were still the sort that might possibly do anything on Halloween together we could totally have been Maddow and Olberman. God, that is the most fucked realization perhaps EVER.
- I had to leave fencing early last night my head was pounding so badly. I'll write about it later.
- Hewitt reunion dinner? $85 a plate. Open bar, nice restaurant, but I find suddenly I don't care. Not even tiny bit. Although I regret that just a little. Because it would all be so funny. They usually have a tea at some point though. I'll do that I suppose. $85 a plate! Dear Hewitt, we are only mortal and the world's finances are collapsing and the great men we are all supposedly descended from would surely be jumping to their deaths were this actually our great Society past. $85 is like a memo to a lost world.
- Meanwhile, whoever you are, I probably still owe you email.
- Hey! GIP!
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Yes, this. This exactly.
ETA: Though I confess, I can't imagine you as anything other than the juggling-eight(teen?)-projects busy as hell person you are. I suppose there are some who have a similar difficulty with me.
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In case you didn't know, I am a workaholic
I loathe that possibility for myself more than perhaps anything.
It's one of your most pronounced, and most endearing qualities.
I am going to be 36
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I is sleep deprived. (If you haven't admired my puppies over at my blog, you really must sometime. They are costing me a lot in mental acuity.);)
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Best sentence ever.
I wonder if it could be repurposed. <---- this is now my response to everything. This writing thing, it is a disease for which there is apparentl no cure.
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We still haven't found the Torchwood equivalent.
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Looking forward to it. I've been toying with evil birthday plans of my own even though it's not until December. It involves Barn Dance and Firefly cosplay.
What sort of drama exists there? Haven't decided about the plane ticket yet. LAX I am very familiar with, Burbank and Long Beach are total strangers to me.
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