Never the time and the place. Billy Muse is back, bright as a button. so how unfortunate it is to be up to my eyeballs with work, work, work. Sigh. Mutter. Misery. Frustration.
I did jot some stuff down, but it wasn't as good as it was in my head while I was daydreaming on the bus this morning. It never is, sigh.
Nothing like being overworked and overtired to bring forth the muse. Though the overtired bit is entirely my fault. I couldn't sleep so I took myself from Law and Order to Without a Trace to Farscape (the one where Talyn goes nuts and starts shooting everything in sight).
Then it was onto Hornblower, looking ever so sweet and tender, and the visit to Morocco, which birthed many a slave boy fic, not that I'm complaining, mind. Then the plot turned to Dreadnaught Foster and the fire ships. If for nothing else, we can be eternally grateful that Denis Lawson inspired his young nephew to take up acting. Actually, Denis was reminding me of my father, being all cranky and Scottish, if those aren't synonyms.
After Horny Babe (and hello to the sugar daddy slashiness) we had Stargate and Holiday. Just as I'm wondering about Daniel's gold card, wondering how his credit rating might have been affected by his sojourn on Abydos, or why Machello is approaching folks on the street when surely a more ancient and orthodox soociety than Colarado would have much more strict and formal rules for addressing strangers in both language and custom, then reminding myself that it's just a show, when Daniel/Machello announces he is quite happy to have people feast on him, like that nude sushi place in Seattle. Suddenly the image of Jack taking body shots off Daniel falls unbidden into my mind, and I let it linger for a few moments before sending it on its way. Note to self: finish that damn Jack/Daniel fic.
After that I read chapters and chapters of dear Bertie and his ever faithful Jeeves, hoping to feel sleepy, but I never did. Ah well, at least I'm more than a dozen pages in now :D
In my distress over my melty chocolates yesterday, I forgot to mention what chocolates and why they were so special. You see, every time they'd catch the Ghirardelli sign in shot on the Streets of San Francisco, which was more often than you would reasonably expect, we'd all groan with unfulfilled longings, especially as I'd forgotten to pick up a supply the last time I was in SF - which is inexcusable.
Well, my brother found some, here, and he made a special trip on the bus, in the rain, to get them for my birthday. Oddly enough, they weren't too far away, as the crows used to fly (every evening when I was a kid, I miss that). Anyways, where there were once factories and swampland is now a gated townhouse community. In fact it's all very feudal, these gated posh folks surrounded by my sprawling slum of a suburb. Anyways, within their province lurks a posh shop that sells Ghirardelli chocolates, of all things. We've never seen it anywhere else, and believe me, we've looked.
I should point out that these former swamps have been home to a massive colonly of enormous golden orb spiders for milennia and they've not moved and as no one bar my brother uses that bustop or the footpaths, because they all drive big fossil fuel guzzling cars, it's all rather, well, we compared it to Shelob's cave before the fillum, but post fillum I'm sure you're all with me visually. And you really do have to hack through the webs: the strongest spiders webs about, being used for military study and everything, and bloody awful to walk into if you're not a spider fan.
So Bro bravely hacked his way through the spiders to get my choice choccies. Which is why I was wailing when they melted in the heat, as US choocies are not built to take this sort of tropical clime.
Oh, I also got one of those Max Brenner cup thingies. Amazing how my strong political sensibilities are completely out the window where chocolate is concerned. Bro says South Africa would still have apartheid if they'd had a decent chocolatier, since I'm willing to overlook a multitude of sins for a sugar fix. Hey, my boycotting only goes so far :D
A few friends have been asking if/when I'll visit the States again. Short answer: not in the foreseeable future. Well, there's the whole cash strapped thing, and everyone pointing out how I should spend all my money on house repairs and not on trips away. Then there's the fact that I've been there twice, and my last trip was a Coen Brothers styled farce (thought I remain indebted to the pal who pointed out Stately Wayne Manor as we drove past it), so it's way down in my list of places to see next. I was also unhappy about the prospect of being photographed, fingerprinted, searched and interrogated like a criminal before entering the country, which is highly offputting, to say the least. But then I heard that the US had banned passengers using the loo on inbound flights. It's a frelling 14 hour flight. Fuck that:\
So no, not visiting the States any time soon. In fact, if they're going to carry on like that I won't even consider those super cheap week in Hawaii deals that have been tempting me of late. I just can't cross my legs that long, never mind the obvious abuses of my hitherto civil rights.
Okay, rant over. Sometimes I wish I could emmigrate to one of those other multiverses I was reading about.
Bugger. The city is blanketed with thick smoke as far as this eye can see. Just what I needed. Cough. Hack. Wheeze.