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ontologySo, the season four finale of Angel has left me with this insatiable need to listen to Dario Marianelli non-stop. I DON'T EVEN KNOW. It was weird enough that somewhere in the middle of season three, my brain said to me, "YOU NEED TO PLAY DEBUSSY'S "CLAIR DE LUNE" ON REPEAT FOR HOURS, OKAY?", and I said, "erm...okay?". I suppose it was a small step from that (the "Clair de Lune" I've got is the Jean Yves Thibaudet from Atonement, scored by Marianelli) to the rest of the Marianelli oeuvre (or what of it I possess), but, er. Well, as the Doctor would say. Well.
Feeling a little blank just now, and wishing things were in sharper focus, but I'm used to that. The good news is that I've got an appointment on Thursday with a psychiatrist; I'm sort of vacillating between not caring, and counting the days in my head.
And my paid account runs out tomorrow or the next day, so I'd just like to shout out to the marvellous Anonymous Benefactor, because thank youuuu. Seriously. ♥!
In other exciting news, the Quill and Ink Society had its second meeting yesterday, at my house. Which was exciting, because I haven't had anybody at my house on purpose since -- well, not counting visiting relatives, er...my fifteenth birthday party? Someone please tell me I've miscalculated! (I mean, people have been here, and hung out a bit, but mostly on a spur-of-the-moment basis.) But at any rate, I made gingerbread, and straightened the house, and we cleaned out the schoolroom for the meeting, and I spent quite a lot of time scouring the house for a table on which to put the gingerbread. (I was at last forced to settle for the old telephone table that served as my night-stand for about two years before I realised how ugly and useless it was and threw it out into the hall. I have a trunk, and windowsills. Who needs cheap ugly falling-to-bits telephone tables? It was just large enough for the platter of gingerbread: the platter, however, was not large enough for the gingerbread, which I cut to fit. Strangely, the two ends had mostly disappeared by the end of the day.)
Alessandra showed up early, and decided that we could not have gingerbread without whipped cream, and thus she dragged me off to the supermarket to buy some. This was very exciting. She got me a wee carton of ice cream, and we ran into Mrs Huss at the supermarket, and she drove us home, and played the theme from "Doomsday" in the car. It's very pretty; I really ought to get my hands on those Doctor Who soundtracks forthwith.
Everybody else was late. Alessandra sprayed whipped cream into her mouth and nearly died, and I drew a truly awful picture of Spike. We also decided to begin the meeting by reading the entry for "effulgent" in the dictionary. (Alessandra was clad in tweed, so this was particularly impressive.) Then the rest of the Society finally straggled in, and once we were gathered, she did, in fact, read from my very impressive dictionary which is at least half a century old. Alas, I did not get a picture of this. I did, however, get several photographs of The Folly Of Whipped Cream:
Aye, those are my girls, and I love them. (I'm at the bottom, with the strange hair and the distinctly 1990 dress.) We also had a guest attendee, Katie, visiting the Meholicks from Canada, but she was sitting right next to me, so most of the pictures of her are mostly of her arms. Oh, and yes. Writing was indeed accomplished. Verily! Only I was understandably much more absorbed during those bits, and therefore did not take any photographs. It's been rather encouraging, actually -- I wrote something vaguely resembling a short story over the week, and have not been doing so badly with the two-minutes-to-write-about-this-word exercises, which have in fact given me vague ideas for possible future short stories. (Note that my grammar puts nothing definitively. I haven't been cured of my paranoid pessimism.) I shall have to add this to my list of things I used to read about in stories and wished would happen to me. Silly, normal things I suppose. Awfully nice to have them, all of a sudden -- going to the cinema (with people) and getting ice cream (with people) and having photoshoots (with people) and watching television shows (with people).
And then Sarah played "Rest in Peace" on my guitar. Ahahahahaha.
Alessandra showed up early, and decided that we could not have gingerbread without whipped cream, and thus she dragged me off to the supermarket to buy some. This was very exciting. She got me a wee carton of ice cream, and we ran into Mrs Huss at the supermarket, and she drove us home, and played the theme from "Doomsday" in the car. It's very pretty; I really ought to get my hands on those Doctor Who soundtracks forthwith.
Everybody else was late. Alessandra sprayed whipped cream into her mouth and nearly died, and I drew a truly awful picture of Spike. We also decided to begin the meeting by reading the entry for "effulgent" in the dictionary. (Alessandra was clad in tweed, so this was particularly impressive.) Then the rest of the Society finally straggled in, and once we were gathered, she did, in fact, read from my very impressive dictionary which is at least half a century old. Alas, I did not get a picture of this. I did, however, get several photographs of The Folly Of Whipped Cream:
Aye, those are my girls, and I love them. (I'm at the bottom, with the strange hair and the distinctly 1990 dress.) We also had a guest attendee, Katie, visiting the Meholicks from Canada, but she was sitting right next to me, so most of the pictures of her are mostly of her arms. Oh, and yes. Writing was indeed accomplished. Verily! Only I was understandably much more absorbed during those bits, and therefore did not take any photographs. It's been rather encouraging, actually -- I wrote something vaguely resembling a short story over the week, and have not been doing so badly with the two-minutes-to-write-about-this-word exercises, which have in fact given me vague ideas for possible future short stories. (Note that my grammar puts nothing definitively. I haven't been cured of my paranoid pessimism.) I shall have to add this to my list of things I used to read about in stories and wished would happen to me. Silly, normal things I suppose. Awfully nice to have them, all of a sudden -- going to the cinema (with people) and getting ice cream (with people) and having photoshoots (with people) and watching television shows (with people).
And then Sarah played "Rest in Peace" on my guitar. Ahahahahaha.
Feeling a little blank just now, and wishing things were in sharper focus, but I'm used to that. The good news is that I've got an appointment on Thursday with a psychiatrist; I'm sort of vacillating between not caring, and counting the days in my head.
And my paid account runs out tomorrow or the next day, so I'd just like to shout out to the marvellous Anonymous Benefactor, because thank youuuu. Seriously. ♥!
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no subject
Date: 2008-05-24 04:36 am (UTC)I'm really glad there's some movement on the getting-you-some-help front, and I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that it all goes well.
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-24 04:42 am (UTC)And we must get together again, with the screwdriver. *makes nefarious plans once more*
And I still have whipped cream... ^_^
no subject
Date: 2008-05-25 02:22 am (UTC)Love the pictures, looks like you were having great fun.