Various random observations
May. 30th, 2003 07:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katallison1. After a week or two of tender, balmy, fragrant late May weather, a cold front ripped through today, and it feels like October out there, with a leaden sky and a wild cold wind whipping everything around. Needless to say, this is my kind of weather, and makes me very happy. I am making soup and sipping bourbon and listening to the Bach cello suites and watching the trees lash around in the gale.
2. Thunderstorms came through last night, presaging the weather change. I woke around two, with lightning as bright and unrelenting as a strobe light flashing through the blinds. The thunder was continuous; I don't remember ever hearing anything quite like it, five or ten uninterrupted, unrelenting minutes of thundering, until I felt like I was right next to a very long freight train.
3. While I stood on the back deck early this morning, an enormous flock of Canadian geese went by right overhead; I couldn't do a count, they were moving too fast, but there must have been at least 40, in a huge V, honking loudly, flying north.
4. You know how, on a day that starts out warm and abruptly turns cold, when you've been out running around underdressed for the change in weather, with a flimsy t-shirt and sandals, and you finally get home, thoroughly chilled, and pull on a sweatshirt and heavy jeans and warm socks, how good that feels? That's one of my favorite feelings in the world; it's something I loved about living in north coastal California, the way the warm days would turn into chilly evenings, and one could snuggle in.
5. Great triumph is mine, because I finally got a large website I maintain at work re-coded into totally tableless CSS. Not that anyone who uses the website will ever know the difference, but I shall. I do the dance of the geekish autodidact.
6. I cherish the dS flashfiction challenges because they've given me occasion to play around with characters other than Fraser and RayK. In particular, I seem to be yanked into writing Vecchio, or more specifically Vecchio-as-the-Bookman; I have another shortish thing about half-done, one which is making me stagger up from my chair from time to time with the "Ow ow ow," and "Oh, jeez, Ray, you poor sonofabitch." I am really starting to love this Armando-Vecchio guy, and the token of my love is how much I'm willing to hurt him. *g* I still don't know if I could write season 1-2 RayV, though.
7. It strikes me that I could write pretty much anything in here, the rawest spillage from my addled brainpan, and at least some people would read it. That's an alarming thought, really. So I will not focus on it, but will instead tip the platter, hit the "update" button, and let these jumbled fragments dump out onto the aether.
2. Thunderstorms came through last night, presaging the weather change. I woke around two, with lightning as bright and unrelenting as a strobe light flashing through the blinds. The thunder was continuous; I don't remember ever hearing anything quite like it, five or ten uninterrupted, unrelenting minutes of thundering, until I felt like I was right next to a very long freight train.
3. While I stood on the back deck early this morning, an enormous flock of Canadian geese went by right overhead; I couldn't do a count, they were moving too fast, but there must have been at least 40, in a huge V, honking loudly, flying north.
4. You know how, on a day that starts out warm and abruptly turns cold, when you've been out running around underdressed for the change in weather, with a flimsy t-shirt and sandals, and you finally get home, thoroughly chilled, and pull on a sweatshirt and heavy jeans and warm socks, how good that feels? That's one of my favorite feelings in the world; it's something I loved about living in north coastal California, the way the warm days would turn into chilly evenings, and one could snuggle in.
5. Great triumph is mine, because I finally got a large website I maintain at work re-coded into totally tableless CSS. Not that anyone who uses the website will ever know the difference, but I shall. I do the dance of the geekish autodidact.
6. I cherish the dS flashfiction challenges because they've given me occasion to play around with characters other than Fraser and RayK. In particular, I seem to be yanked into writing Vecchio, or more specifically Vecchio-as-the-Bookman; I have another shortish thing about half-done, one which is making me stagger up from my chair from time to time with the "Ow ow ow," and "Oh, jeez, Ray, you poor sonofabitch." I am really starting to love this Armando-Vecchio guy, and the token of my love is how much I'm willing to hurt him. *g* I still don't know if I could write season 1-2 RayV, though.
7. It strikes me that I could write pretty much anything in here, the rawest spillage from my addled brainpan, and at least some people would read it. That's an alarming thought, really. So I will not focus on it, but will instead tip the platter, hit the "update" button, and let these jumbled fragments dump out onto the aether.
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(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 06:33 pm (UTC)2. The dog passed through my room last night around two, promising what she was going to do to my carpet if I didn't get up *right then* and let her out. I had heard the like before, and I believed her.
3. While I sat in the wisteria arbor this morning, breathing in the lingering fragrance of whatever insecticide the city's using against the mosquitos this year, a mocking bird flew out of our chimney. I think they're nesting there again. I'm going to be cleaning bird-poop out of the fireplace before August.
4. You know how, when you leave the house at eight, fresh from the shower and smelling faintly of Dove and Shower-to-Shower bath powder, and then you run around in the heat and humidity and finally get home again around noon, hot and sticky and getting a rash from your bra, and it feels so good to peel off your panty hose and collapse in front of the AC vent in your underwear, how good that feels? It's one of the things I miss most about living in Alabama -- no, wait, I don't miss anything about living in Alabama.
5. Great triumph is mine, because I finally threw away all the mismatched socks in my top drawer. No one else will ever know, but secret triumphs are still triumphs. I do the dance of the compulsive neatnik, stopping briefly to dust the lamp shade on the nightstand.
6. I cherish Carmel's Fifteen Minute Challenge because it makes me write, period. And more than that, it's making me write Amanda. I love writing Amanda -- she always wants to hurt or humiliate Methos. Or just trip him, so she can land beneath him.
7. It strikes me that I could write pretty much anything in here, a lot of it probably actionable, because it's not *my* lj, and Kat's the only one who'll read it. I won't dwell on it though, I'll just hit "Post Comment" and let these rambling thoughts disappear.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 06:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 07:45 pm (UTC)I do cherish anything that makes you write more, though :-)
Because you and Suze are both high on my compatibility scale...
Date: 2003-05-30 07:45 pm (UTC)2. Alarming muscle cramps came through last night, presaging a hobble to the bathroom during which I moved like I was 125 years old. I felt like I'd been hit by a rather long freight train.
3. While I stood in the bathroom this morning, at least two people started honking for me to get out.
4. You know how when you go out figuring the day is just overcast and you get rained on because you didn't bring an umbrella? Nuff said.
5. Great triumph was mine yesterday when I moved a whole garage full of furniture and didn't break a nail. However today I broke a thumbnail trying to pick up an empty shipping box. There is no justice in the world.
6. I cherish all fiction challenges. They provide me with reading material.
7. It strikes me that I'm babbling, but yes, I love reading even your raw spillage.
God, I so love pastiche.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 08:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 09:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 09:21 pm (UTC)Compatibility? I don't need no stinkin' compatibility!
Date: 2003-05-30 09:21 pm (UTC)2. Nothing happened last night, presaging the static weather. I woke around 5:30, with mosquitoes buzzing around my head, as loud and unrelenting as Beck's fuzzbox feedback. The buzzing was continuous; I don't remember ever feeling more irritated, two or three unrelenting minutes of buzzing, until I swatted at them furiously.
3. As I stood at my front door this morning, a gigantic garbage truck went right by in front of me; I couldn't see the garbagemen, they were hanging off the other side, but there must have been at least three, in a huddle, cussing loudly, dragging cans.
4. You know how, on a day that is muggy and still and shows no sign of changing, when you've been in your robe all day, with slippers and jammies, and you don't have to get dressed, how good that feels? That's one of my favorite feelings in the world; it is something I loved about working at home all over the country.
5. Great triumph is mine, because I finally caught up with all of my permanent press in a timely manner, hung them on hangers and folded up all of the underwear. Not that anyone will every know the difference, but I shall. I do the dance of goddess-like domesticity.
6. I cherish beta'ing vids because they help me see and learn more than if I were only beta'ing my own and give me occasion to kick tech butt that doesn't belong to me. In particular, I seem to be yanked into beta'ing lousy vids, more specifically Spike/Buffy 4eva vids; I have another one right here, which is making me get up from my chair from time to time with the "Ow, ow, ow," and "Jesus God, what the hell does she think she's doing." I'm really starting to hate these people, and the token of my distaste is how much I'm willing to be nice. *g* I still don't want anyone else touching the finale though.
7. It strikes me that I could write pretty much anything in here, the toxic waste from my fed-up right brain, and at least Kat'll read it. That's not a very alarming thought, really. So I will not think about it, and will hit the "post comment" button, and let this lay where Jesus flung it.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 09:29 pm (UTC)And I've seen your dance of goddess-like domesticity. It's a very slow two-step.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 09:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 09:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 09:51 pm (UTC)Various random observations
Date: 2003-05-30 10:03 pm (UTC)2. Last night, while damp, was fair to balmy, and quiet save for the idiot children tearing through the neighborhood in their souped up Turbo GT's and Hondas, because school was out. At which times I sincerely think having a shotgun in the house might not be a bad idea after all.
3. While I stood in my driveway this morning, trying to coax my truck into starting one more time, no less than six people went by, with dogs, three of them men, and not one of them offered to help me with my car.
4. You know how, on a day that starts out with frustration, sometimes slides into one that can't possibly get any worse, but it does, until you are forced to either laugh or go postal? This was one of those days, in which the transfer of title on my mother's car was rejected, the landlord at work is threatening to lock us out of the building, and the HR office in Phoenix lost my personnel file, just as the mortgage company was trying to verify employment. But you know, I looked *marvelous* in my red shirt and black jumper, and Dr. Scholls, and no one even mentioned the massive ekeing hole and run in my stocking. That feels good, to know, no matte what else happens, no one really cares how well you are dressed.
5. Great jubilation belongs to me, for my truck got me home, because I, I can still clutch start my old transmission like any self respecting southern girl who drives a BIG truck. And people scoff at tradition, and no one will know how cool that is because I was the last one out and no one, yet again stopped to help me. But I triumphed and did the dance of the nearly-redneck Dixie chick.
6. I cherish the concept of drawer fic, in which I can maim and mutilate my characters to my heart's content and never once have to worry about word choice or grammar or even spelling, and no one will challenge me on my plot points, nor try and coax me to do better. For they are all about me -- and great carnage can be wreaked in the name of thwarted art and a serious desire to kick the ass of no one in particular.
7. It strikes me that I could write pretty much anything in here; the wasted words and rantings of a madwoman notwithstanding and live my schizophrenic dual life while cackling psychotically at the idea that I am a nice person, and that the bitterness and gall spewing forth will most likely not be read at all, and if it is, well, being able to send old people and small children screaming form the grocery store with my wild-eyed gaze, frothing of the mouth and gnashing of teeth, would probably be chalked up to PMS or something. That's an alarming thought actually, so I will not focus on it and instead will claim that all of the above was actually a day in the life of my evil twin Skippy.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 10:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 10:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 10:21 pm (UTC)I know that one! It's a lot like sockkpuppett's dance of the domestic goddess, but with a faster rhythm and synchronized finger jabbing.
Yeah, that finger.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-30 11:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-31 12:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-31 07:44 am (UTC)