This is going to be brief because I spent most of the afternoon in a meeting. You know the one: restructure blah blah, new direction blah blah. Another manager, another strategic plan. Nothing ever happens except I usually end up landing in another department. Fortunately I've been through this so frelling often throughout my career that I just don't care any more. Give me a pink slip and my long service leave and I'll run off to be a bohemian writer.
I was also rather wrongly, but hey, I was bored, deciding whether guys in the office where straight or gay as determined solely and arbitrarily by the length of their shirt sleeves, this being summer and short sleeves in the public service being not uncommon. The more body hugging the shirt, I reckoned. I know, I'm being dreadfully shirt-ist but as I said, I was bored, I don't have a palm full of slash to amuse me (great idea!) and I bet I'm right, enough to plot an observable trend at any rate.
Speaking of slash, a writer whose work I enjoy very, very much wrote to me to express an enjoyment of my little efforts, singling out each little fic for its own special praise. That's a keeper of an email. I'm ever so chuffed. I might not get much feedback but when I do it's from people I respect and admire and it's long and it's thoughtful and it means something.
Now, if only I could pull my finger out and type but it's been busy today. Not full on but constant little tasks and somebody has brought their kids in to work so no, no writing today. Getting caught by the boss is one thing, but by the bosses kids? I don't think so.
Weather: hot but not as hot as they said, but still very hot. I'll be running around dumping buckets of grey water on my favourite shrubs and trees again at sunset. At least it's excercise because the buckets are large and heavy, there are lots of steps (the house is built on a steep slope, had it been built later it'd be a groovy splitlevel instead of one badly built house sliding down the hill) and I do run as the mosquitos are impossible.
I'm also wearing something that's rather too summery for the office or to be seen in public with, but I figured it was too hot for my usual burqa and frell, I really wanted today off so my head was on holidays even if my body's here. And it was still hot and stuffy when I got up, so there. Plus, it's rather fun to dress for the local climate, instead of the city which was always 19-29C so it was always the same five blouses, rotated only when they became worn, ruined (the currawongs getting into the mulberries incident springs to mind) or I take an irrational dislike to one (still can't wear white blouses like the one I was wearing when my Dad died). Still annoyed over someone I used to know once who managed to get her dinner all over my fave shirt, too. It was such a pretty shirt, so pretty strangers on the street would stop to admire it, but she split her dinner all over it and that was that. Now I'm a messy eater, my Dad used to call me Miss Muckety Moo, but, aside from the stray lemon pip, disobedient soy sauce sachet or prank can of coke, I've never slopped my dinner across the table onto spectators. I'm just saying (and she called me passive aggressive). Would have laughed it off had it not been the favourite shirt.
Slayerfest 5: I forgot to mention this and I actually made notes, which I've forgotten to bring in again. But I do remember Xander's hawaiian shirt from the episode with Dracula. This time I actually noticed that it wasn't merely a loud hawaiian shirt, it was a sparkly hawaiian shirt. There was much re-checking the evidence, much blinking, then a chorus of 'gay, totally gay, liberace gay' from the peanut gallery. Not that there was much of a peanut gallery. I had invited a couple of non cabled friends over but they all had lives. Other comments involved "enough with the frelling bunnies already", a sentiment expressed almost word for word by Nicholas Brendon, the spotting of Get Smart references, Nerd Andy as one of Harmony's minions, and various plot points that went on to mean stuff, and others apparently abandoned.
Beware of the Dog: the scene where it goes all terrier on Aeryn's leg. Bwahaha!
As tv returns to the ratings period, I turn to my dvd collection. I mean, no more Farscape, fer instance. Last night to amuse while waiting up Bro put on Moonlighting (we swear we spotted a few things that have ended up in Angel) and I wallowed in Lost World, six episodes compressed into a confusing 82 minutes but I didn't care, possibly because I'm used to the hack job EC9 does on my fave progs. Of course it is a worry that it's the dvd - one usually explains one's dvd collection by pointing out the episodes are uncut (although I think I'm in a minority of actually bothering to watch the shows I write about). Still, any show that has druids and head hunters with blow darts and dinosaurs in the same episode, crazy editing or not, well, I'm in love.
I think it's a law now that if the episode of Buffy involves young, lean Angel being all shirtless and broody, then I'm required to pull a twelve hour day or more, but if it's Ted or the stupid egg episode then eight hours is sufficient and I get home in time. Grrr. Though it wasn't too bad, I mean, the egg episode is always bad though I was having wrong plot bunny xover thoughts about the Gorch Brothers, especially as they were in M7 anyway, and Mum and I demolished half a tube of Pringles, probably because we both needed a salt fix from our dehydrating adventures on Sunday.