rm | Oct. 6th, 2009

Just before bed last night I realized that our cruise is in less than 90 days, and I'd not yet made my gluten-free requests. I called this morning and they said they can do it, and emailed me the form which reiterates the 90 days, but I'm going to fill it out and see what I can do. Basically it allows me to request gluten-free items within a certain allowance for each day of the cruise. I figure I should just request the max allowed, even if I am not going to eat pasta every day, just in case, but it does feel a bit challenging. At least I can have daily gluten-free waffles and the like. Sadly, there is only gluten-free service in the main dining room, and we're definitely planning to do meals at some of the other restaurants, but I think that means I just have to order wisely there and not expect being able to be served the special gluten-free items.

Cruises are hard!

On the other hand, while on the phone I found out that they are out of state rooms at the level we reserved, so if there aren't cancellations or other upgrades that get us into the category we paid for, we're going to wind up upgraded ourselves. Considering we've already paid for a room with a full balcony and a pretty good deck level, this might be pretty impressive.

I am so excited about my stupid NaNo novel. The idea of getting this mad thing out of my head and onto paper is really exciting to me (my cracky summary is still making me laugh and laugh and laugh), and I spent all morning on the subway chuckling at the idea of a chick dressed as PowerGirl getting stuck checking people into a hotel dressed like that because of a bit of Keystone Cops comedy of errors stuff involving room keys, business clothes and sex with minor celebrity. Yeah, I'm writing this thing on eleven. If it's absurd, I'm just going to go for it. I can always dial it back later. This is a case of "I have no idea what I'm doing, but I think I can make money doing it."

I am not sure of what I think of the new Doctor Who logo. For the record, for those who are not of the Whoniverse and have not suffered along with its numerical insanities, we're now rebooting to what is going to be considered Series 1 with Eleven, even though Ten's first series was Series 2. If you don't think about it, it won't drive you crazy.

Anyway, the logo. I agree with others, that it sorta looks like a Transformers thing. And there's a certain 80s kitchiness to it all. On the other hand, it's clever, the color family makes sense (and hints that the inside of this Tardis will not be as warm -- the only place the tones of the logo that is leaving us were seen was on the inside of the Nine/Ten Tardis), and there is, in spite of it all, movement in the logo. But, as was noted elsewhere, Lens flares ate my baby! What is up with that?

Clearly, though, I'm now a real DW fan, because who the fuck gets worked up about a logo?

I finally ordered a binder last night, because the whole sports bra thing was getting tedious and I feel very strongly about having a really perfect line under my suits. Of course, I fall directly between two sizes (and their height/weight info vs. the chest size info couldn't have been more radically mismatched to my shape) so we'll see how that works out.

Last night we watched the second episode of Merlin's second season. It was, in places, very smart (the awkward Gwen/Arthur convo the first time they spend the night together -- such as it is -- is a hilarious wink and nod to other tellings of the story). It was also, in places, very stupid, both in terms of structure and of course the possible fail-y (I say possible, because regardless of what I felt I saw with my eyes, which did feel fail-y to me, I'm an American with excessive knowledge of the differences between American and British casting and writing processes, watching a British program I'm not that obsessively aware of the specific processes behind and the UK's racial issues and manifestations there of our different than American ones and the only thing I feel qualified to say is that I will defer to the British audience and folks working in British media on this matter).

I think I've decided that I find Post Secret annoying most of the time. Working in law-enforcement didn't make you racist, you idiot; you were racist, didn't realize it and now, having realized it, are using your job to justify it. Also, every single secret about who had an affair with whoever? People fuck and people lie and people make bad decisions; if you're over 27, it's time to stop thinking the presence of such stuff in your life makes your narrative interesting; it doesn't. Additionally, you are not the only person who has ever been closeted, loved their pets more than their family, wanted to beat up their coworkers or has ever wished a terminally ill loved one's suffering would end. NEWSFLASH: the secrets aren't the secret, the shame is. Common, crappy, destructive shame.

I adore watching how the ads AdSense places on my pages change as discussions involve in comments. We're on to joint health now because I mentioned my slippy shoulders in a discussion about wearing breast binders. I've also noticed a high incidence of ads about staying young looking, which I suspect is a result of all the birthday remarks as well as constant mentions of "time" as happens when you're in Whoniverse fandom.

Jess Hartley is doing a series on Cons for Pros. It's focused on the gaming community, and so far has not even begun to address the sort of stuff I've seen at both mostly literary cons and the very fraught world of media cons, but I thought it was worth linking as a point of reference.

Casting notice phrasing of the day: "tall, frumpy, loud, but despite outward appearances aroused by her husband's murderous intentions."