Too Tired for Coherency
May. 9th, 2007 12:09 pmAs some people may know, LA is currently on fire (Griffith Park in particular). There've been evacuations of people, of the Autry Museum, and I believe of the zoo. If they discover that this fire really was arson, I hope bad, bad things happen to the arsonist. Griffith Park and the surrounding areas are the eastern heart of the city, a quiet oasis, with beautiful neighborhoods and sprawling land. Places to hike and horseback ride and picnic, and park and makeout. They string Christmas lights up there every winter so people can drive through it. I hope everyone I know who lives near there is safe!!!
The air smells woody and burnt and thick, and it's just... well, it's always felt like the apocalypse would start in LA and no one would notice:)
THIS PROJECT looks fascinating. It's a ten song cycle of Farscape's second season. I wish I hadn't discovered it at work (thank LJ Seek which I'm complete addicted to) because I'm fairly sure I shouldn't listen to it at work but I'm curious enough to follow up when I get home (at midnight. Argh!!!) The singer/songwriter, Beth Kinderman, lives in Minneapolis and has played at one of the coffee houses by one of my old apartments (the one that bore more than a passing resemblance to both the Paper Street house and the basement from the Blair Witch project. The one with the ceiling that had caved in on previous tenants.) I like that kind of weird fannish six degrees.
If anyone has not read THIS yet, go do so because I laughed so hard yesterday I had to go hide by the elevators until I could breathe again. Sometimes I miss the canny, cunning simplicity of dogs. (M. and I watched a band on Letterman called Cat Empire a few nights ago, and it made me think of how fruitless it would be to have an empire of cats. An entire citizenry that won't do what the hell you tell them to, will pee on everything, get high off of grass, and insist that despite the obvious food in the bowl, you are in fact starving them. Then rub their face in an embarrassing body part or clothing article and try and take over your furniture.)
It reminds me of my sister's dalmation who would put his face in ANYTHING, and always suffered the consequences. He got stuck in a cardboard ice cream box once, weaving all over the kitchen like Stevie Wonder on a bender, whacking into the cupboards, all the while trying to get that last, tiny, imaginary droplet of ice cream before someone came to chastise him and strip him of his ice cream crown.
Also, that first line of a story meme is pretty neat (I always feel like a dork using language like that, but honestly, for those of us brought up in the 70's it is a constant effort to reform our language so that we sound moderately hip, and unfortunately, in 10 more years, when I have hopefully reproduced and am still calling my offspring "Dude" since that has wormed it's way inexoribly into my vocabulary, I will long for the days when I was fine with "neat.")
Behind the LJ cut are the first lines of some of my stories. If you're up to it, take a line and write a story/drabble using it as the first line.
(I got this from
6beforelunch.)
( First Lines )
The air smells woody and burnt and thick, and it's just... well, it's always felt like the apocalypse would start in LA and no one would notice:)
THIS PROJECT looks fascinating. It's a ten song cycle of Farscape's second season. I wish I hadn't discovered it at work (thank LJ Seek which I'm complete addicted to) because I'm fairly sure I shouldn't listen to it at work but I'm curious enough to follow up when I get home (at midnight. Argh!!!) The singer/songwriter, Beth Kinderman, lives in Minneapolis and has played at one of the coffee houses by one of my old apartments (the one that bore more than a passing resemblance to both the Paper Street house and the basement from the Blair Witch project. The one with the ceiling that had caved in on previous tenants.) I like that kind of weird fannish six degrees.
If anyone has not read THIS yet, go do so because I laughed so hard yesterday I had to go hide by the elevators until I could breathe again. Sometimes I miss the canny, cunning simplicity of dogs. (M. and I watched a band on Letterman called Cat Empire a few nights ago, and it made me think of how fruitless it would be to have an empire of cats. An entire citizenry that won't do what the hell you tell them to, will pee on everything, get high off of grass, and insist that despite the obvious food in the bowl, you are in fact starving them. Then rub their face in an embarrassing body part or clothing article and try and take over your furniture.)
It reminds me of my sister's dalmation who would put his face in ANYTHING, and always suffered the consequences. He got stuck in a cardboard ice cream box once, weaving all over the kitchen like Stevie Wonder on a bender, whacking into the cupboards, all the while trying to get that last, tiny, imaginary droplet of ice cream before someone came to chastise him and strip him of his ice cream crown.
Also, that first line of a story meme is pretty neat (I always feel like a dork using language like that, but honestly, for those of us brought up in the 70's it is a constant effort to reform our language so that we sound moderately hip, and unfortunately, in 10 more years, when I have hopefully reproduced and am still calling my offspring "Dude" since that has wormed it's way inexoribly into my vocabulary, I will long for the days when I was fine with "neat.")
Behind the LJ cut are the first lines of some of my stories. If you're up to it, take a line and write a story/drabble using it as the first line.
(I got this from
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
( First Lines )