sundries

[rm]

Patty reports she has just entered Pennsylvania. It's a very long state. I don't expect her home before five or six.

I had a Fabric Realisation late last night and now everything is sorted out with the new suit. Yes, pinstripes. The shirts I ordered: a pale green (yes, that pale green), wine (duh), and this pale peach/buff sort of pinstripe thing that will be suitable, for, among other things, being a corporate girl. So that's good.

Now, I just need to get paid. That's slightly alarming. I expect it to be sorted soon.

I did five loads of laundry yesterday and brought all my dress shirts to the cleaners. That was slightly appalling, because what I discovered is: 1 white, 3 shades of solid blue, 3 variants/shades of white with blue pinstripes. This is WRONG WRONG WRONG. And in part why the Duchess shirts involve no blue at all.

Meanwhile, I've been asked to write a thing for a thing. About fencing. It had to happen sooner or later, and I'm very excited to do it, but it's kinda a Thing in my head. But hey, this is good stuff.

I am being productive. Such as one can be without Internet at home and the scattered, hormonal head I've had for the last several days.

Torchwood series 3 now has an air date. Week of July 20. I went through a lot of "I'm not ready yet" with this, and now, I'm just totally down with it. Bring it.

I went up 173% on the IMDB starmeter this week. I don't actually care. It's a way of saying "I have an audition for a thing I don't want to talk about unless it happens." I didn't get the last thing of that ilk, but I should tell that story (discretely) at some point, as it's pretty bloody hilarious and sort of like sitting near to Kristen Stewart on Virgin America. No, really. deduce, deduce!

Still must do WriterCon vendor stuff. All else is sorted, other than the travel arrangements of pretty much everyone I'm attending with, but that's Not My Problem. If I say it often enough, it might even be true. Meanwhile miep and cozzene will be shutting me to/from airport and we'll be making plans for proper socializing too.

Need to go to the post office.

My terrible eating habits remain terrible. I don't know what's up with this. I've just got to stop. Eat protein. Eat three meals a day. Regain sanity.

Yesterday there was an attack on one of our plants. I think it was a squirrel. A young tomato plant was ripped out of pot and half the root system eaten. Remember, we're on a fourth floor fire-escape here. Major critter action didn't strike me as a big issue. Anyway, it's been repotted and it seems fine, but What the Fuck?

Obama did some presidential proclamation thing that this is LGBT history month or something. That's all well and good, and actually sort of awesome, but can he maybe get on stopping people from getting run out of the military for being queer? Yeah, thanks.

Anyway. Long cat is long. Ceiling cat is ceiling. Wait, no....

Speaking of cats! I have what look like stigmata thanks to an unfortunate run in with Pretty Kitty last night because I was trying to get her to stop eating my hair.

Comments

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

Yep, and that plus:

- Fucking about with the rule of law re: Guantanamo
- Not exactly making obvious progress in the Middle East

*facepalm*

Come on, Obama. Get on it.

[rm.livejournal.com]

What's sad, is he's still so much better than what we had I can't regret voting for the man. But this shit is getting frustrating. I expected some of this, but not all of it.

WHERE IS JED BARLETT WHEN WE NEED HIM?

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

Seriously. Do not make me kidnap Aaron Sorkin and force Martin Sheen to play dress-up for another eight years.

BECAUSE I WILL.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Why am I suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to write a West Wing style fanfic (all brilliant dialogue all the time!) that repopulates the White House with Torchwood peeps?

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

Because the concept is intriguing and amusing all at once? Who gets CoS, Gwen or Ianto?

[rm.livejournal.com]

Suzie, I think. And then you know, she kills herself and chaos ensues.

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

Oh. Oh lordy yes.

*twitch*

[rm.livejournal.com]

Right, see. And Owen would be the Toby character. I think Ianto is CJ.

[lorem_ipsum]

Are you sure Tosh isn't Toby?

[rm.livejournal.com]

No, I'm not. But I've worked the whole fic out in my head, which is sort of scary. It's like a cross between The West Wing and The American President (because I'm a romantic, a dark, fucked up romantic, but still a romantic) and opens with this horrible conversation between Ianto (who's been woken up by his mobile at 4:28am) and Owen (who has called to inform him of Suzie's demise).

[rm.livejournal.com]

Also, I may write this.

[brewsternorth.livejournal.com]

Well, at least on the face of it Ianto does have something of the Rahm Emanuel about him...

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

That's the suits talking.

(Mustn't...slash...Ianto/Rahm. Mustn't...)

[rm.livejournal.com]

Oh my god.

[bodlon.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

(Also, guh.)

[santousha.livejournal.com]

do eeet!

[santousha.livejournal.com]

Or
http://news.indytruth.org/archive/2008/images/1107-obama.jpg
I know it's wrong but I'm a slasher dammit!

[rm.livejournal.com]

Did you read the infamous Yuletide fic?

[santousha.livejournal.com]

no, linkage please

[rm.livejournal.com]

I actually like it as an examination of ambition, far more than I have any interest in the slash part of it, but I think it's exceptional.

http://yuletidetreasure.org/archive/72/tensephirot.html

[santousha.livejournal.com]

will read, thanks

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

Feep.

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

That's just crazy-talk. Because none of those chaps are Yanks.
OK, Bartlett could put them to good use, maybe not so crazy. Plus the witty!

[miep.livejournal.com]

oh. yes please. now.

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

The social forces that put a Nerd in the White House must soon put a Geek in the White House. Then They'll Have Something To Cry About.
I say, lets start drafting George Takei as a future Bull Moose candidate now. I want to die on Mars!