(no subject)

[ontology]

I am fascinated by the way the seasons seem to belong to different worlds -- when I think back to summers past, shivering now in my long sweater, wishing for warmer socks and longer days, it doesn't seem quite reasonable that they should have happened in exactly the same places as the winter. I miss summer terribly just now -- I keep going back to folk music festivals past, and star-watching in the mountains of Virginia (? -- well, somewhere) just after my sixteenth birthday (on the back porch of our little holiday house, the stars and the clouds were dizzyingly close), reading Thomas Wharton for the first time, and War for the Oaks, and seeing Once, and Kyra being here, and shindigs with the gang, and most of all lying in the sun and being in the sun, and being warm, and not having to run from one place to another every time I go outside, because it wasn't so awful to be out in the weather. And long, long sunsets! 

Life without the kiosk proves to be pleasant, especially now that I am not missing all of the daylight hours. I forgot how lovely it is to see the sky change! And yesterday it was so warm; if only I hadn't been so silly and had realised it before so late in the afternoon, I could have run some errands. (My hair desperately wants dyeing.)

I have been trying my best not to fall into bad habits of being terribly lazy just because I haven't got to go to work, and it is mostly turning out all right, although my sleeping habits could use improvement. Today was sort of a wash because my body has decided to feel horrible, and I think it is the new medication, because I was feeling inexplicably and intensely panicky earlier, and now I am just very exhausted. I went to the library, which is about two blocks from my house, and when I came home I lay down on the bed and went to sleep without meaning to. So that is a bit of a bother. And I am still having trouble getting out of bed in the morning. But I have been getting some writing done (only I've got myself stuck on a passage, trying to figure out how I should write it -- foreshadowing is good, so that revelations make sense when you hear them later, and so one is a bit curious anyway, but the way this is going it seems almost suspicious, and -- you know what, this show-don't-tell business is much harder than it looks!), and Jonathan and I thrashed out some songs for Sunday all afternoon and evening yesterday. (Well, no, that gives us more productivity credit than we deserve. We wandered away from our duty several times, but it did get done in the end. :p)

And now I am overcome by a wave of exhaustion. Oh thank God that I haven't got to go to work tomorrow; it will be the first Sunday in months that is actually a day of rest. In preparation I am going to curl up in bed with the chocolate I haven't even eaten yet (it is probably a new record) and nurse this minor malady in the hopes that it will go away quickly if humoured.

Comments

[spockodile.livejournal.com]

Thrashing in the context of music means something else to me... (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrash_metal) and I don't think we really did very much of it in the afternoon at all. But I think we deserve extra productivity credit. Beyond merely selecting a few songs, we went over a number of other songs in my repertoir, talked about them, practiced them, and actually made a pretty good plan for Sunday.

The many worlds of the seasons remind me of the Meholick's house. When you lived there, it had a certain soul. When they live there, it has an entirely different soul. Same building, different essence. The same building is a different building if it is covered in monstrous icicles and snow dfirts rather than skylarking mosquitos and lawn clippings.

I do like the variety of the seasons. Virginia was generally warmer and more comfortable, but it did not feel like four seasons; it barely felt like two.

[everydayjoy.livejournal.com]

I hope that your chocolate does, indeed, prove to be a magic cure-all.

Please, please take some of our warmth. I beg you.

And will you be sharing with us anything that you have written?

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

If I ever get this first chapter wrangled out into anything resembling sense, balladrie may have it for display. [shifty eyes]

I will gladly take your warmth! [shivers] At this point I am wondering if setting my desk on fire is not indeed worth the cosiness.

[everydayjoy.livejournal.com]

I will hold you to that, you know!

[suangelita.livejournal.com]

It's our Buffyversary, and you're not on! What's with that?!? *needs to watch Buffy with you*

[silvia-duchessa.livejournal.com]

I miss summer so dreadfully. I keep thinking of the night before we went to Venice, when I was watching one of my favourite X Files eps at 1 in the morning, waiting to go and wake my family up so we could go to the airport. And the insane delays we had, trying to sleep for 3 or 4 hours on uncomfortable airport seats. And then when we flew over the beautiful city itself, and I saw the Piazza San Marco and I nearly cried I was so happy. Ahh, I miss summer.

[builtofsorrow.livejournal.com]

I love your descriptions of things, and I could come up with some inadequate metaphor, probably, but I'll just leave it at that. I love them. & you.

Also, I am late in saying this, but YAY FOR YOU & YOUR NEW JOB. Also, I envy you your holiday. :D (Though I'm sure you are putting yours to better use than I would put mine.)

Speaking of which, I still need to finish reading/get back to you re. Evangeline & Co. -looks about shiftily- I fail at these things. I'm sorry. :(

-snuggles you just because-

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

Heh, I am trying to put this holiday to some sort of use or I will feel horribly depressed about it afterwards, of course -- I only wish that it was WARMER, HANG IT ALL. Because then I could run errands and go for walks and listen to music at the park and play on the swings, but no, I must think of useful and productive things to do at home! :p (Dear self, you could be writing right now. Just so you know.)

Oh, I have three other people's NaNos which I have not finished reading properly yet, so it is all kinds of understandable.

(I am hoping for many exciting bookstore tales to tell. Eee!)

♥!

[lady-moriel.livejournal.com]

Re: Evangeline storyness, 1) so far I have no better names for Mr. Caruthers except my brain is suggesting truly odd things like Cuthbert and Weatherby and Archibald, which have the advantage of sounding stuffy and British and the minor disadvantage of being absurd and also WHAT NO, but 2) did you know that in the Underworld-verse, vampires can get others' memories by drinking their blood? I'm not actually sure if this works with humans, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't happen if they don't drink the blood straight from the vampire whose memories they want, but it's still interesting: a literal stories-in-the-blood sort of thing.

Also, the Master Derek Jacobi is in Underworld: Evolution. Although there he has a beard. And it appears that a whole host of DW people have been in BBC Shakespeare productions, because he was in Hamlet of some kind, as was Lalla Ward, and...I forget who else.

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

THAT WAS MY IDEA (well cails' but still) OH BUGGER NOW EVERYONE WILL THINK I AM STEALING FROM UNDERWORLD. [facepalm] (Although it's only humans they get memories from, because other vampires' memories wouldn't be in their blood, since their blood doesn't even belong to them; I suppose a vampire might try -- except what vampire drinks from other vampires?! -- but they'd get a jumbled cacophony that might actually be lethal, who knows.) Is Derek Jacobi still evil? Because then of course he has a beard; nobody nice ever gets beards, which is sad. (WESLEY WHY DO YOU SHAVE WHEN HAPPY.) Also, why is Doctor Who taking over the world? :D