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A - The international contingent made it San Diego in her convertible. I reminded her to put sunscreen on and apparently the PCH kept wandering off but she was juggling remotes when she called and I took that as a good sign.
B - The great lakes contingent has touched down in the land of Cleves. The WeNy contingent is home safely and two of our auxillary members are tucked into their homes.
This is all to the good, but damn I miss you all terribly. Mourning is not too strong a word for it.
Since I was not flying anywhere I mostly came home, and the tiny fourlegged love of my life was very, very happy for us to continue our co-dependency. He followed me around all afternoon and came and sat on the pink sweater and glared at the alien cat:)
veritykindle brought me a Beeker doll, and he's beyond adorable. Hee. We took pictures of him watching TV with his perpetual look of shock. We debated sending him to the East Coast to get photographed with the John Crichton dolly, but it was also decided that the odds of Beeker making it back to LA were minimal:)
We did find some catch phrases this weekend, among them:
Assless Chaps
What does this smell like?
This is not clothing optional.
There are others, but I believe they're going to be iconed:) I love my hussies, I really really do.
When I was driving on Wednesday, I heard the radio documentary "My Lobotomy", then heard a follow up discussion of it on Thursday. I started to cry at the end and just couldn't stop. This was an amazing piece of media, sad and horrifying and fascinating. The idea of someone's thoughts, someone's mind being taken away is just so very, very terrifying. Did anyone else hear this? I'm constantly fascinated by the power of story, of media, and find it remarkable that so much of my recent life has been shaped by the story told on a TV show, and how much my mind has been shaped by all of the stories I've taken in, that I continue to take in, how their forms and facets shape me as much as their plots and bends. I should have something profound to say about this, but mostly I'm just awed.
I talk to
rubberneck about our Project 3, and am awed there - seeing her process, the way she's actively pulling themes from our earlier work, watching the way we've built a foundation to support those themes:) It's a good thing.
There were good questions at the fic panel, which
fbf did a fabulous job of moderating. Among them were how to get a beta (and the use and purpose of one), and also how to turn ideas and scenes into an actual story, how to make yourself into a writer. We had a might good time and never once had to say penis outloud. We did, of course, later... at the bar:)
B - The great lakes contingent has touched down in the land of Cleves. The WeNy contingent is home safely and two of our auxillary members are tucked into their homes.
This is all to the good, but damn I miss you all terribly. Mourning is not too strong a word for it.
Since I was not flying anywhere I mostly came home, and the tiny fourlegged love of my life was very, very happy for us to continue our co-dependency. He followed me around all afternoon and came and sat on the pink sweater and glared at the alien cat:)
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We did find some catch phrases this weekend, among them:
Assless Chaps
What does this smell like?
This is not clothing optional.
There are others, but I believe they're going to be iconed:) I love my hussies, I really really do.
When I was driving on Wednesday, I heard the radio documentary "My Lobotomy", then heard a follow up discussion of it on Thursday. I started to cry at the end and just couldn't stop. This was an amazing piece of media, sad and horrifying and fascinating. The idea of someone's thoughts, someone's mind being taken away is just so very, very terrifying. Did anyone else hear this? I'm constantly fascinated by the power of story, of media, and find it remarkable that so much of my recent life has been shaped by the story told on a TV show, and how much my mind has been shaped by all of the stories I've taken in, that I continue to take in, how their forms and facets shape me as much as their plots and bends. I should have something profound to say about this, but mostly I'm just awed.
I talk to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
There were good questions at the fic panel, which
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Date: 2005-11-22 03:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-22 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-22 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-23 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-26 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-30 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-22 03:34 pm (UTC)The Beeker doll is beyond cute. The lovely
*hug*
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Date: 2005-11-22 07:19 pm (UTC)And yeah, you're home safe!
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Date: 2005-11-22 04:28 pm (UTC)I heard most of it (before I lost the radio station in question going over the pass), and I plan to hunt down the rest online--I think I saw that it was available. Yeah, it was fascinating and horrifying at the same time.
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Date: 2005-11-22 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-22 05:23 pm (UTC)And I'm glad you liked Beeker. Did the tiny fourlegged one get to meet him, too? I'm sure Beeker would look very shocked to meet a cat. ;)
(*using my baby!Hippo icon, just for you, because I haven't used it in a while...*)
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Date: 2005-11-22 07:17 pm (UTC)Hugs Katya and misses you already!!
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Date: 2005-11-23 05:32 pm (UTC)Horrifying is the word, the unconscionable abuse of power over the helpless and the hopeless; spurred by those desperate for *anything* approaching a therapy of cure, as well as those taking advantage. What I found remarkable was the strong vein of a practical forgiveness in that man--in his conversation with the doctor's son who still worships his father's memory, and when he talked to his own dad, who refuses to accept any culpability for what was done to his child, for what he *allowed* to happen.
You accept it and you move on, even as you bear witness to the evil that was done. The hardest part to listen to was him reading his medical record; the perfunctory laying out of a case, the performance of a set-piece requested by his stepmother and played out by the doctor, narrated by that deep mournful voice, that lilt of sardonic fait accompli.
*looks at sentence, wonders if it's a trainwreck, decides more sleep is needed*
how to make yourself into a writer
It requires deep deprogramming, but luckily enough, no icepicks.
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Date: 2005-11-30 07:13 pm (UTC)