Ephemera
Holy Week. Completely exhausting. It was very big and I was very small. I slept in this morning, heartily.
Had a weird dream this morning in which I was a character on the West Wing. But all, or most, of the WW characters were women for some reason. C.J. had an underling whom she got mad at for doing something. I was a female Sam, I think, wandering around and not knowing what I was doing. Maybe I was a female Josh. And there was this big powwow with some good-looking male Russian dignitaries who explained how they went through periods of thinking Communism was right, and then thinking it was wrong. I was telling my colleagues how I had a great deal of respect for their leader, who had a specific name, but I don't remember it now, except it started with a D. Except then the leader as part of his closing remarks made some benediction that implied that our country would soon see the light. Even in my dream I thought it was a weird time to be "seeing the light" about Communism, as that whole argument is so pre-1990. And then the men disappeared. There was a whole bunch of other weird stuff, like being in the children's section of a library and trying to check out this series of fantasy books that had been recommended to me, only the first one was missing, possibly misshelved (a significant possibility since the shelves were a huge mess), and I was searching for it because it was suddenly very important that I read these books. And then -- well, I guess I woke up.
This may have something to do with the fact that Jessica made me aware of Governor Howard Dean's campaign for 2004, just before I went to bed last night. Apparently he's very Bartlet-esque, and hey, Martin Sheen even endorses him. Speaking of which, apparently the powers that be are leaning heavily on Sheen to shut up about protesting the war, even to threatening his job on the West Wing. How un-American is that? What is wrong with my beloved country??
Don't want to think about that anymore right now.
I notice from my stats pages that someone has read through all the chapters of Shadow that are currently posted -- which makes me happy, whoever did it. Chapter 11 is coming along slowly but surely. In my imagination, reams and reams' worth of story is proliferating, most of which I will never write. I have this sort of Choose-Your-Own-Adventure thing going with the story. Because of course Elisabeth can wind up back in her own dimension...or she can end up staying where she is and create great dramatic complications wth ramifications that echo down to the roots of the world. I know which one I am going to do for the story I'm actually writing, but it's always fun to think of the other thing. My latest amusement: dressing Elisabeth up in tweed.
Somebody reassure me that Giles is not going to die at the end of Season 7. I just have this horrible, horrible feeling, and I can't make it go away. Even watching Manchild does not help.
*deep sigh* I suppose I should potter round and find myself some lunch.
Holy Week. Completely exhausting. It was very big and I was very small. I slept in this morning, heartily.
Had a weird dream this morning in which I was a character on the West Wing. But all, or most, of the WW characters were women for some reason. C.J. had an underling whom she got mad at for doing something. I was a female Sam, I think, wandering around and not knowing what I was doing. Maybe I was a female Josh. And there was this big powwow with some good-looking male Russian dignitaries who explained how they went through periods of thinking Communism was right, and then thinking it was wrong. I was telling my colleagues how I had a great deal of respect for their leader, who had a specific name, but I don't remember it now, except it started with a D. Except then the leader as part of his closing remarks made some benediction that implied that our country would soon see the light. Even in my dream I thought it was a weird time to be "seeing the light" about Communism, as that whole argument is so pre-1990. And then the men disappeared. There was a whole bunch of other weird stuff, like being in the children's section of a library and trying to check out this series of fantasy books that had been recommended to me, only the first one was missing, possibly misshelved (a significant possibility since the shelves were a huge mess), and I was searching for it because it was suddenly very important that I read these books. And then -- well, I guess I woke up.
This may have something to do with the fact that Jessica made me aware of Governor Howard Dean's campaign for 2004, just before I went to bed last night. Apparently he's very Bartlet-esque, and hey, Martin Sheen even endorses him. Speaking of which, apparently the powers that be are leaning heavily on Sheen to shut up about protesting the war, even to threatening his job on the West Wing. How un-American is that? What is wrong with my beloved country??
Don't want to think about that anymore right now.
I notice from my stats pages that someone has read through all the chapters of Shadow that are currently posted -- which makes me happy, whoever did it. Chapter 11 is coming along slowly but surely. In my imagination, reams and reams' worth of story is proliferating, most of which I will never write. I have this sort of Choose-Your-Own-Adventure thing going with the story. Because of course Elisabeth can wind up back in her own dimension...or she can end up staying where she is and create great dramatic complications wth ramifications that echo down to the roots of the world. I know which one I am going to do for the story I'm actually writing, but it's always fun to think of the other thing. My latest amusement: dressing Elisabeth up in tweed.
Somebody reassure me that Giles is not going to die at the end of Season 7. I just have this horrible, horrible feeling, and I can't make it go away. Even watching Manchild does not help.
*deep sigh* I suppose I should potter round and find myself some lunch.
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