dchenes: (katana)
The weather being conducive to it and I not being able to wear it for the concert tomorrow, I wore The Dress Part 1 to work today. Might as well rock it while I can still fit in it. And I do rock it, and I'm getting used to the idea that I'm allowed to do that.

On Sunday I had to go buy a shirt to sing in tomorrow. In the process I saw this, but didn't try it on because the right size wasn't available. I am now trying to figure out whether spending $139 on an experiment is worth it. Right now the answer is no, but I really like the look of it anyway. (And yes, I did find a shirt. The more you need something, the less likely it is to be on sale, so of course it wasn't. But I can wear it for more things than singing, and it's sort of a distant cousin of a shirt I loved to death in college and shortly after.)

Last night I did the monthly financial gymnastics and had just enough "extra" for another year of pet insurance. Lily is getting to be an Expensive Beast in her old age (she's only 8), but I'd still rather have the insurance than not. At least she's still mostly indestructible, although she's taking after Schwartz in the dentistry department. Schwartz had two teeth for most of her old age, which finally ended at 22. Lily's lost at least three molars/premolars and, I think, a couple of incisors. But she still has all her fangs, so she doesn't quite look like a craggy old beast with no teeth, and she can still chew anything she has a mind to (including me). Snip has no such issues, because as far as I know, she only chews on shoelaces. And occasionally on me, but only when she's pretending to be fierce.

After I got done with the financial gymnastics, my brain decided it had had enough Responsible Adulthood for a while and came up with an absolutely ridiculous idea for a writing project: crossover fic involving Pogo and Guardians of the Galaxy, specifically the fact that Groot and Grundoon could probably have a conversation they both understand perfectly. There's no way in hell I could actually write that, but it made me giggle anyway.
dchenes: (katana)
It really ought to be Friday, only it isn't. It REALLY ought to be next Friday, only it isn't. I would settle for it being today with weather I could walk home in without feeling like it's a penance, only that's not going to happen for at least another two and a half weeks. And people wonder why I hate the month of March?

Anyway, I'm taking a week off in two weeks, and the temptation to run off to somewhere warm is pretty strong. Unfortunately getting to anywhere south of the polar vortex seems to be more trouble than I'm willing to go through. Either you leave the night before and get there the next morning, or you spend a lot of money, or you leave ridiculously early in the morning, and so forth. I could stay in Boston and just not go to work for a week, but that's not quite as much fun as going somewhere. I suppose I could go to a travel agent, but that would require me to know where I want to go, and I'm not even that far along yet.

I have discovered skyr, which so far is the only nonfat yogurt-like substance that comes close to being what I want out of a nonfat yogurt-like substance. It's got the texture, without having a pantload of sugar (or artificial sugar, which is worse) and glue in it. Fortunately it's not one of those horrendous expensive things I get addicted to; it's nice to know it's there, but I don't have to keep buying it. It was on sale last week, which is why I was willing to try it. We won't mention the chocolate bars that were also on sale, but since they're good chocolate bars, I've been able to not eat a whole one in a single sitting. And I managed to make black bean soup that gets better when I put not-quite-enough pasta into not-quite-enough soup.

I haven't been able to write anything for several years now, but last weekend I ended up at Newbury Comics in Harvard Square (not really on purpose, but I had a serious case of the fidgets), and went on a used-DVD binge. One of the DVDs in question is the first Captain America movie, and the plot bunnies are starting to wake up. Nothing concrete yet, but at least it proved that the plot bunnies are still in there somewhere. I was sort of wondering about that. Now if they'd just let me finish the long CSI epic I was writing when they went into hibernation...but I'm still not sure that's ever going to happen.
dchenes: (Default)
There was reasonably-sized slab of dead steer au poivre, with mushrooms, last night. And it was very nice indeed.

Today is Friday, for which I was ready somewhere around half past Tuesday.

I sent my father this, mostly because of the border collies, and he thought it was the greatest thing he'd ever seen online.

A six-foot shoelace is long enough for Lily and Snip to each play with one end, without realizing there's somebody else messing around with the other end.

I get to see family I haven't seen since somewhere around two Easters ago, this Easter.

The potted daffodils I bought from the American Cancer Society are blooming like it's going out of style.

My current piece of writing, which had stalled again, has started poking me in the brain occasionally. Apparently it doesn't want me to forget about it.
dchenes: (Default)
Because I am fighting as hard as I can against a rant about work, a list of good things not related to work:

At breakfast on Saturday, I started writing again, and what I started writing seems to actually want to go places. (Lesson learned for my other piece of writing that isn’t going places: when you have a plot point jumping up and down in your brain yelling “WRITE THIS”, write that, and never mind how the rest of the plot’s going to get there. It’ll figure itself out, or it won’t and you’ll have an offshoot.)

I made a very tasty concoction on Sunday night, consisting of orzo, chicken and pesto sausages, grape tomatoes, baby spinach, and fresh mozzarella. I think for next time it needs garlic, or basil, or both, but its current incarnation is quite nice and will provide lunch for the next several days.

I’ve been socking it to my credit card balance to such an extent that I hope to be able to pay it off completely before I have to start paying for fuel oil again.

It didn’t occur to me that on Friday after the thunderstorms, there might be a rainbow out there. It was a very pleasant surprise when I looked out the window and saw the rainbow over the flagpoles next door.

Speaking of flagpoles, after Memorial Day, Union St. is decked out in flags on all the telephone poles for the rest of the summer. And I discovered that somebody at the other end of Union St. has a koi pond in their front yard. (I don’t know how they keep the koi alive in the winter, but they must manage somehow, because there are at least three or four big ones and a mess of goldfish-sized ones in there.)

The loud Celtics-fan neighbor seems not to be a baseball fan. I haven’t heard anything from him since last weekend; in fact, I don’t think he was home this weekend.

I never use the back doors at home, because as far as I knew, the keys didn’t work without serious arguing. I tried them on Saturday and they both work quite nicely. This is good because the front porch is getting painted sometime next week, and needs a day to dry, so I’ll have to come in through the back. (The porch being painted is also good; it's looking a little sad right now.)
dchenes: (Default)
I've been a-wandering all this night, and the best part of the day,
But when I come back home again, I will bring you a branch of May.

I feel like I've been wandering all night; I night-shifted myself by accident this weekend, and now my internal clock thinks I shouldn't be going to sleep before midnight. My internal clock obviously hasn't consulted a calendar lately. I still have to haul myself out of bed and go to work for three more mornings this week. (Oogh.)

My bloody work ethic is telling me that since I'm taking the Friday of Memorial Day weekend off, I can't take another day off this month. Although if I was going to do it, this week or next week would be the time to do it. I've just fought my way through the post-April-SOP paperwork, and the next SOP meeting isn't for another three weeks, and it's another teensy one. (June is going to be a mess, but that's June, and I'm not thinking about it yet.)

I just finished reading Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, and I enjoyed it. It's set in China (obviously), beginning in the 1830s and going on through at least 1880, although it never mentions a specific date. I thought it was going to be another "progressive female protagonist in conservative historical period" plot, but it wasn't. It was "dutiful female protagonist demonstrating how historical period worked", and as such, the novel worked. (On top of which, it gave me something new to read for two days.)

I discovered I can get into JSTOR from work, so I've been looking up articles on colonialism and language in my spare moments. I wish I could remember what the other huge research database I used to haunt was.
dchenes: (Default)
I've been bothered lately by knowing I needed something, but not knowing what that something is. I finally figured it out. My center is off; I need to go somewhere and work on that for a couple of hours, preferably somewhere private but not home. (Or somewhere outdoors, if there was anywhere outdoors that could be relied on to stay dry today.)

Basically I need to run off at the brain for a while, until it clears out some.

On a related tangent, I have to find out if I can get into the main Harvard library system. I need an academic library so I can research the paper I want to write for the next ATISA conference. (There's got to be somebody else out there who writes about colonialism and borrowing; I can't be the only person interested in the two-way linguistic street between colonizers and indigenous peoples. And it is a two-way street.)
dchenes: (Default)
My feet hurt. A lot. I think it's the boots I was wearing today and yesterday.

Today and yesterday have been spent sorting out the Mongolian clusterfuck that is this month's SOP packets. Just when I thought I had put the fear of several gods into the copiers about making mistakes with my stuff, they came up with a completely new mistake. They returned everything on Friday (while I was out) with all pages present, but all on hole-punched paper, which I did not ask for and in fact have never asked for. It all had to be recopied, which is why the packets didn't get distributed yesterday. They got distributed today; I took 6 (because my feet hurt and I didn't want to go wander through BWH and Children's and get lost), and K took 17, and I sent the other 12 (MGH and Cambridge deliveries) off with the courier service.

Of course, this morning before the packets got distributed, we discovered printing errors in two of them, so we had to do the unstaple-replace page-restaple dance. And get the agenda finalized and copied. It was a "pecked to death by ducks" morning.

Oh well. I survived. Now I have to figure out what I'm going to do about dinner, and how to make my feet stop hurting. And maybe figure out why one of the characters in my current writing project has suddenly quit talking to the other characters and insists on talking to me directly. Last night I wrote three pages of narrative that should be dialogue. (It'll be a lot more than three pages if it's dialogue, too.)

I don't understand how my downstairs neighbor hasn't gone deaf. If he's home and awake, he's playing music so loud it makes my desk rattle. 7:05 this morning is too bloody early for that.
dchenes: (Default)
When my brain gets an idea and starts yelling "Write this!" I generally listen to it. Grad school has warped it, though; on the way home tonight, it got an idea for another academic paper involving the influence of language on culture and vice versa, and colonialism, and borrowing. So now it's yelling at me about that, and I think I hear a lot of research coming. At least when it yells at me about fiction, I can just start writing.
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