Highwire Act
Apr. 5th, 2004 12:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowLosing my balance, losing time, can't prioritize because I don't know where to begin.
Daylight Savings Time threw me off. I reminded everyone and then forgot, was on time for my student only by the grace of too much Sangria the night before, laying on the couch, watching Relativity, getting such a thrill when Aeryn says. "I'm not flinching," and then didn't change my clock.
Alarm clock has it's own agenda, won't always come back on after I hit snooze, but it's random, not a dependable flaw and I woke up with 15 minutes to get dressed and get too work, so now I'm flustered, frazzled, witless.
Yeah for the miniseries, this thrills me to bits, but![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sorlklewis broke my heart, said Chinook is closing and so much of my life at home was defined by that bookstore. Creeping into the playhouse that no longer exists, hiding there with a stack of books, the scent of the store, dark and close and woody, and the bookmarks which are scattered in random volumes. I went to Bennington because the daughter of the owner interviewed me and she was everything I wanted to be, everything my dad wanted me to be, living in a big house on Wood Avenue, hip and smart, passle of kids but with a $60 haircut and bare feet and faded Levis and books everywhere talking about the cold, and the air, and standing at the bottom of the hill, outside the gate leading up to Bennington, the smell like new snow and damp. All that contained in too many things and the loss of Chinook makes me so, so sad.
The last thing I bought there was "The Amber Spyglass." I told this wrong to SL, and I had a conversation with the sales girl about Hester, and crying. God, I just can't imagine going home and not having that store be there.
Have to finish the Remix story. I think it's done, but I don't know, and need someone to give it a read through. Don't need a beta (not yet, though I will), but right now, just need a set of eyes to say, yup that's done. Victims? Oh, oops, volunteer? (It's relatively short:)
Am caught between wanting to write more on Citrine, write more on the new story, and edit Blue Eyes, which is what I really want to do, and of course, real work which is first, and so many students, too many and I shouldn't complain because as usual I owe the federal government and was deeply discouraged to not pay my taxes by my mother who says it won't be seen as social protest as I will not go to jail, but merely be fined. That takes a lot of the fun out of civil disobedience. Sigh. Oh and the point is I'm too flustered, too listy, can't get started on anything.
And Wonderfalls. Just when I was charmed again. And there were visions of a cow creamer. A kitschier cow creamer than the one I own (ignore that whispers that say cow creamer=kitschy even if it came from Williams Sonoma and has a gold bow 'round it's neck).
There was also the Victoria's Secret incident in which I channeled my mother - purchasing panties, giving in to the lure of the charge card and the potential for half price bras, voided the purchase, signed up for the charge card, put the purchase on the card, then wrote a check for the purchase amount so there wouldn't be a balance but I'd be flooded with the half off bra offers, refused the Bob Dylan CD thinking it was a single, was convinced to pick it up, looked to see the nice collection of Bob love songs, if he can be said to write such a thing, marveled at the fact that Dylan's selling Tits n' Ass, marveled at the fact that Bob's visage is on the CD associated with T n' A, and then handed off the catalogue to M.
Daylight Savings Time threw me off. I reminded everyone and then forgot, was on time for my student only by the grace of too much Sangria the night before, laying on the couch, watching Relativity, getting such a thrill when Aeryn says. "I'm not flinching," and then didn't change my clock.
Alarm clock has it's own agenda, won't always come back on after I hit snooze, but it's random, not a dependable flaw and I woke up with 15 minutes to get dressed and get too work, so now I'm flustered, frazzled, witless.
Yeah for the miniseries, this thrills me to bits, but
sorlklewis broke my heart, said Chinook is closing and so much of my life at home was defined by that bookstore. Creeping into the playhouse that no longer exists, hiding there with a stack of books, the scent of the store, dark and close and woody, and the bookmarks which are scattered in random volumes. I went to Bennington because the daughter of the owner interviewed me and she was everything I wanted to be, everything my dad wanted me to be, living in a big house on Wood Avenue, hip and smart, passle of kids but with a $60 haircut and bare feet and faded Levis and books everywhere talking about the cold, and the air, and standing at the bottom of the hill, outside the gate leading up to Bennington, the smell like new snow and damp. All that contained in too many things and the loss of Chinook makes me so, so sad.The last thing I bought there was "The Amber Spyglass." I told this wrong to SL, and I had a conversation with the sales girl about Hester, and crying. God, I just can't imagine going home and not having that store be there.
Have to finish the Remix story. I think it's done, but I don't know, and need someone to give it a read through. Don't need a beta (not yet, though I will), but right now, just need a set of eyes to say, yup that's done. Victims? Oh, oops, volunteer? (It's relatively short:)
Am caught between wanting to write more on Citrine, write more on the new story, and edit Blue Eyes, which is what I really want to do, and of course, real work which is first, and so many students, too many and I shouldn't complain because as usual I owe the federal government and was deeply discouraged to not pay my taxes by my mother who says it won't be seen as social protest as I will not go to jail, but merely be fined. That takes a lot of the fun out of civil disobedience. Sigh. Oh and the point is I'm too flustered, too listy, can't get started on anything.
And Wonderfalls. Just when I was charmed again. And there were visions of a cow creamer. A kitschier cow creamer than the one I own (ignore that whispers that say cow creamer=kitschy even if it came from Williams Sonoma and has a gold bow 'round it's neck).
There was also the Victoria's Secret incident in which I channeled my mother - purchasing panties, giving in to the lure of the charge card and the potential for half price bras, voided the purchase, signed up for the charge card, put the purchase on the card, then wrote a check for the purchase amount so there wouldn't be a balance but I'd be flooded with the half off bra offers, refused the Bob Dylan CD thinking it was a single, was convinced to pick it up, looked to see the nice collection of Bob love songs, if he can be said to write such a thing, marveled at the fact that Dylan's selling Tits n' Ass, marveled at the fact that Bob's visage is on the CD associated with T n' A, and then handed off the catalogue to M.
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 12:43 pm (UTC)(I know "Blue Eyes" is still sitting here on my computer, mostly un-beta'd, but you talked about doing such massive rewrites that I figured my niggling little technical fixes were becoming obsolete.)
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Date: 2004-04-05 12:47 pm (UTC)Thank you, thank you!
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Date: 2004-04-05 12:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 01:26 pm (UTC)Ways to avoid doing actual work are welcomed ;).
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Date: 2004-04-05 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 02:33 pm (UTC)*sigh* ok, we shall deal....
But jury duty? I seem to have missed something....
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Date: 2004-04-05 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 05:12 pm (UTC)Yay! Citrine! :)
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Date: 2004-04-05 05:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 06:54 pm (UTC)Your Victoria's Secret adventure had to be read several times before I could make sense of it, and then I had to laugh. The only time I go in there is Christmas to buy my mom perfume or bubble bath - 'cause even their stuff is expensive, it's good and she really likes it.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 11:25 am (UTC)And yeah, this particular bookstore, it's just so tied in to my childhood. Colorado Springs has had other, better independent bookstores that have closed, and Denver has the Tattered Cover which is the most marvelous bookstore I've ever been to, but Chinook is just very, very much a part of my memories and I hate to think of it being gone.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 03:00 am (UTC)Dylan, Bob Dylan. Eh, he has his ways.
Resend me 'Blue Eyes' at the appropriate time, please. I'd really like to see the modifications.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 11:22 am (UTC)Dylan is in so many ways his own man, his own enigma that it's hard to do more than watch open mouthed - this is a man who deliberately pissed off his fan base in the '60's so that he could play rock n'roll, the Jew who converted to hard core Christianity and then went back again. Man changes the lyrics to his songs at concerts half the time because he doesn't remember the words, the other half the time so you can't sing along. I still love him, still respect him, think he's nuttier than a fruitcake, think Love Sick is one of the best songs written in the last 10 years, although i also think there are better songs on that album, and am finally old enough to take my obsessions with a grain of salt. ( I banged my head on the table, so, Oh Bob, why have thou foresaken us, and then laughed my ass off. Man's '60 something, a legend, an icon, and he's scamming on half naked 20 year olds. Makes me wonder what he knows that I don't:)