After a long dry week I did 2600 words this morning. Finished chapter 10. I’m beginning to suspect I’ll be going through these early chapters and cutting out two or three chapters worth of Stuff, which I happened to also do on the second book in this series and don’t even get me started on the first book. This is not an efficient way to write a book, but I guess if it gets the job done… Apparently the photography class last night was great. Ted learned a lot and…
tiny bubbles
“Roman writers tell us that Cleopatra was intelligent and charismatic, and that she had a seductive voice but, tellingly, they do not mention her beauty.” Because God forbid intelligence should make a woman attractive. Once more scientists are astonished at how fast things move when they decide to go, regarding climate change. I find the continuing amazement at how quickly things change to be sort of bemusing. Even if you’re talking about human time scales, enormous ice shelves breaking off in an hour is moving fast. If you’re talking about…
mmnng
Hooray, we have tickets for The Who! Which, as Ted said, is important, because they’re old, and the chance may never come again. Nevermind that I didn’t know who Roger Daltry was. It’s the principle of the thing, and I expect it’ll be fun. :) Getting tickets has pretty much been my sole accomplishment for the day. We’d been going to have lunch with and , but we mutually bailed due to the inclement weather and my cold. Perhaps next week. :) So for the remainder of the day I’ve…
random bits
Sean Bean is apparently English. How dare he, with a name like that! Although apparently the spelling was originally Shawn, and now I’m supposing it’s Bean like Mr. Bean, which just leads me down bad pathways. Doesn’t matter, he’s still dead sexy, and Richard Sharpe is rawr. Sure gets laid a lot for a man in the middle of a war, though. Laid by high-ranking ladies, even. Go, Sharpe. Ted, who is a god among men, made prime rib and baked potatoes for our Valentine’s dinner. It was bery *bery*…
dreams
I had a dream this morning that Operations from La Femme Nikita was trying to get me to dive into a visibly empty pool, though they claimed (and I could feel, when I walked across it) that it was filled with invisible blankets so I wouldn’t kill myself. Everyone else was diving into the pool. Operations was so frustrated with me he was making throttling motions in my direction, and he hadn’t yet decided he was going to kill me, although I knew that was the penalty for going against…