Wednesday is Hump Day, and Did You Know That They're Calling 'em Speed Humps These Days?

Mostly what I've done the past two days (aside from teaching a boatload of belly dance and sacrificing my ideals for the sake of shrinking my ass), is watch cooking shows.

I firmly believe that watching Paula Dean clogs your arteries. Lord, that woman uses a lot of butter. My love for Alton Brown grows, as does my love for Alton Brown and I still find Sara what's her name who's the editor for Gourmet to be pretentious and annoying. And the Italian girl who comes on after Paula Dean is too skinny to really be a great cook.

I am looking for work, really I am, but opportunities are slim and no one's getting back to me and I'm working hard at not getting discouraged.

Oh, I also (I think) grabbed everything from Kansas that's not on Leviathan so that I can put it there. I've got all these open files on my desktop, ready and waiting, but I lack the will to read through and make sure I don't want to make changes before Leviathaning them. I will, eventually. I'm just a little lethargic right now. I haven't even unpacked yet.

I'm squeeing in fannish osmosis for those people who went to vividcon, largely because I find it so remarkable that people put together this conference (which seems more of an apt title than convention) for each other to focus on all of them elements of the media that they love, breaking it down into sections, chunks, discussions, panels and displays of the work. I'd love to see something similar for fic, but lacking the visual element, I don't know how well it would work. I also think that the written form is a different beast. ( Thoughts on Writing and Vidding )

In other news, kernezelda has posted the completed (if un beta'd) version of the Cam/Teal'c that got Round Robined from her initial effort for rubberneck. It's here and it's a trip:)

In addition, if you haven't seen what dafnap made me, go here. She's so immensely talented and I'm just awed. And inspired. And nervous. How do you live up to something that looks that good?!?!

Cityscapes

When I was younger, in my early 20's, I spent a lot of time in new cities. Between 1992 and 1997, I was able to go to Italy and Greece for extended periods of time. After college and before grad school, I worked non-stop for 7 months and then did the Grand Tour with three friends. Hee, actually, we had backpacks and hosteled it all over the UK and Ireland, went to France, back to Italy, went to Germany, Denmark and Belgium (because we needed to take the Chunnel, and we were broke and let me tell you, Brussels may have it's charms, but when you're broke and beyond exhausted, those charms are few and far between).

When you hit a new city, whether here or there, wherever there may be, there's something about the light that imprints you to the place. Not so much early morning light, which is universally beautifully, even in the greyest place, but mid-afternoon light which can dance and fade, lighting up smog, lighting up the sheen of beautiful buildings and rough concrete. When you visit, mid-afternoon light presents this sense of both belonging and dislocation. It's the time when people are at work, or just leaving, moving and living their lives, ready for happy hour or coffee, not quite ready for dinner. It's when you most know that you aren't a citizen of that place, just a visitor at loose ends in the early afternoon without a place to go put your things, to sit and relax, to just be. Sometimes, cities offer up alternatives. Rome is a great place to be mid-afternoon, once people have all gone back to work. Fountains and cafes about, and it's easy to while away the time without feeling out of place or out of sorts. Other cities are less... accesible.

I've lived in Los Angeles for seven years, long enough to feel connected, to feel like I belong, but I rarely see the city in the late afternoon. Usually, I'm working. In fact, I've been working close to 60 hours a week for the past six years just to get by. And usually, I managed. And I felt like I was part of this place, in my own way. Yet today, driving down Wilshire, I felt so seperated from this place, driving through traffic in the close to evening hours, driving through a landscape that I never see at that pre-dusk time. It was beautiful, but so foreign to me.

That's what my life feels like to me right now - foreign and distant, formless, something I'm viewing through a recognized lens that doesn't actually parse or track. It's not a bad thing, but I'm having some trouble seeing forward, seeing a life stretched beyond those unfamiliar afternoon hours. I know that'll change, but for right now, it's like driving a car, taking a trolley down a foreign street, looking for somplace to settle until dinner.