sundries

[rm]

Yesterday's food: 1 vitamin water (defense), 1 miniature gluten-free apple pie, felafels with tahini, 4 gluten-free vienna finger-type cookies, gluten-free turkey basil meatballs fried in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, apple-raspberry juice, chocolate pomegranate candy. I so did not eat enough yesterday, but I was in an intense stress place at work. Today will be food awesome, as we're having a big picnic for Patty's birthday and spent a long time cooking last night.

Memo to the insect kingdom: I am not interested in your extreme creepiness. Which is to say that the Giant Ball of Ants I encountered on the subway, The Massive Yellow Spider that crawled onto Patty and The Huge Fucking Hornet in our bedroom -- all in the last 12 hours, -- are so NOT ON.

Insect rage aside, we did snag tickets to Ovo though for June 3. Yay, Cirque!

As you all know, since I've been writing about it periodically, dr_is_in has been dealing with her husbands serious and constant illness for some time. Now, because of the extreme stress she's under, she's been put on leave from work. While necessary for her mental health, it means more financial dire straights for people who were already in financial dire straights. If you can help with $$, information on respite care options or other local resources for someone in her situation, you know what to do. thought_ribbons has more info here.

Bidding has opened on the auction to help Deb Mensinger get a new liver. There is some seriously cool shit up there, and I've been told that there is some seriously, seriously cool stuff still coming. You too can also still offer items, fic, etc to auction.

Forgot who I snagged this from yesterday, but Straight atheist goes undercover in the ex-gay movement.

Holy shit this oil spill. Someone had a link yesterday where someone was collecting a list of links about what you can do. I've lost track of that? Anyone got it?

Bristol paper strategy: 6 pages a day, M - F of this week (well, maybe not Friday, maybe S - Th, as we're going way). Then, I can spend the next week fixing it and toning my citations. I'm terrified, but it's going to be okay. I almost wish I weren't so totally obsessed with the reason why that the say after after a day in September is a day in July matters, because it's damn crap hard to explain, but the inside/outside timeline issue is a critical part of the defictionalization around Ianto's death.

The Frick. If you want to know something peculiar and telling about my childhood, I should mention my parents' intense, ongoing hatred of the Frick. You see, the Frick does not allow in anyone under 16, and I remember my parents discussing this with me in outrage when I was 7 or 8, because I was a perfectly well-mannered little adult and it was utterly unreasonable that the Frick couldn't recognize that I could go there and look at art seriously and quietly. Now, I was a perfectly well-mannered little adult (I can't remember my parents ever telling me to lower my voice in public or not run or anything like that, because I never did those things), but dude! Explaining to a child how she's an adult and you're pissed that the other adults won't treat her like one because of an art collection she has no interest in (I'm not much for visual art, but my parents were aggressive about educating me in it, since they are both painters) is kinda wacky. I would get you money my mother will call me within the next 48 hours and say "did you see the piece on the Frick?" in a tone of intense distaste.

Another blow to the 24-hour life of New York that once was. Empire Diner is closing.

The Creditors had marvelous performances (especially the guy who played Gustav), brilliant directing, a clever set, and was fairly gripping. But why, WHY do I keep going to see plays written in this era? I invariably find them forced and jejune and am incapable of viewing them either through the lens of their time or as remotely relevant to ours. One source of my disaffection with theater may well be the expectation that I care and want to perform in pieces of this ilk. I do not care.

Angel watch: Wesley's thing with his girlfriend is, like, almost normal. And whose friends were at that party they had after that case? Wesley doesn't have any. Cordelia doesn't really like her friends. Were they Gunn's? Random people off the street? Whut? Meanwhile, I LOVE LORNE SO MUCH!!!!! But the thing where the show tries to tell us he's straight is fairly insufferable.

Also, I would have gone a lot of different directions with this plot -- less End of the World demons (try, none), less creepy I-want-to-be-trapped-fucking-my-girlfriend-forever. I really would have just made it an "ooopsie science" thing, as opposed to "THERE IS ALWAYS MALEVOLENCE." This episode really took a turn that distracted from what was interesting about it, I felt.

Comments

[chris-walsh.livejournal.com]

Portland is slowly, slowly struggling with whether it wants to be closer to a 24-hour-a-day town. It's not quite, except in pockets. Meanwhile, it's like I've flirted with late-night life, in a quiet way. I've never been a partier, but something about having middle-of-the-night places to hang out and meet appeals to me. Started in college (one benefit of all-nighters! Which I'd usually not quite manage to do, crashing at like 3 or 4). In other words, I'm sympathetic. I should experience it more. I'd like to hear more from you about what that late-night life has been like for you.

Bless Andy Hallett. I did what I could to pay tribute to him and Lorne when Hallett died.

Minutes later: GrammarWhuh? repaired! I actually can write in The English...

[paulshandy.livejournal.com]

Is that Portland, OR, or Portland, ME?

[chris-walsh.livejournal.com]

Oh: Oregon. (Maybe I thought my Oregon-ness radiates off of me so that I wouldn't have to specify.)

[paulshandy.livejournal.com]

I lived in Portland, OR, for five years, and visited Portland, ME, for a week for a wedding. Everyone at the wedding would have fit in perfectly in Portland, OR, but that just reflects my consistent taste in friends (artists, bookworms, and martial artists, the lot of them). Sometimes in the one in Maine just seemed like a cozier version of the one in Oregon, plus the fresh yet fishy air off the ocean.