(no subject)

I am at this very moment doing something I almost never do, namely savoring a great big bowl of ice cream (Mocha Java, by Julie's Organic Something-or-other, bought at the co-op while pedaling home from the obligatory weekend stint of catching-up-at-the-office). I am typically so much not an ice cream eater that on those occasions when I've bought a pint (usually for dinner guests), it sits around in my freezer until it develops icky ice crystals and off-flavors and gets pitched. But I figure if one is ever going to eat ice cream, it would be on a day like today -- a lovely, languid, slow-paced, sun-drenched late summer Sunday afternoon, with a stack of mysteries waiting to be read and a sling chair sitting in the shade and the sound of locusts and lawnmowers buzzing in the background. And underneath the glorious ripe golden glow of late August, the almost imperceptible sense of summer just starting its long slow fall into autumn, the faint aroma of decay, the change in the angle of light, the knowledge that all of this won't last much longer. Carpe ice cream, says I.

I do in fact intent to post some disjointed comments on VividCon at some point, but right now I'm just going to loll, I believe.

Disjointed VividCon commentary

Let me just note that this entry will in no way actually live up to the icon (New! with thanks to the lovely hafital for the screencap!). One of these days ... or one of these years ... or please god, at SOME point before I expire, I shall learn to jot down the clever ideas that occasionally visit my brain before they flit off again, but this Vividcon was--yet again--not the occasion of such learning.

Having said which:

( Although I am not going to talk much about individual vids, I have to do the Dance of Deranged Joy about one in particular ... )

( Also, even though I am not doing individual vid critique, )

( And other random brain lint ... )

OK, I am abruptly out of steam and it is 8 p.m. and I never *did* do the three or four hours of work I hauled home from the office, drat it. More, perhaps, later.