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Aaaand the computer trots off to campus for another couple of days, after a very satisfying vidding weekend. ( And I'm going to throw in the details because I'm a dork. )
I actually have pieces of an SGA story rattling around in my brain. I'm not sure what to do with it because it's just another one of these ( with the ). Not original, but it made me laugh in my head. I think I'll reperform the cliche for my own amusement. Dear Internet: you need another shakily written McShep blowjob, right?
Though that will have to wait, because the office owns my computer through Thursday again. I am missing blowjob week on DS Recs! This is how devoted I am to getting my writeup done, I guess. I wonder if I should mention that in my final portfolio.
One last note: The poet emeritus of my church died last week. (Yes, I'm a churchgoing Unitarian.) She was 91, cursed like a sailor, may have partied with Zelda Fitzgerald, and makes me significantly less frightened of getting old. One thing that was mentioned in her memorial service was that even into her old age she maintained these letter-writing friendships with people all over the country. People wrote to her about her published work (all little zine-y things) and she wrote back and they talked about the stories they wrote and cracked dirty jokes and knew each other for decades, sometimes without ever meeting. And it occured to me that maybe what happens on livejournal / blogger / the internets is not that unusual, historically: it seems like there's a long history of literary, somewhat quirky women maintaining epistolary friendships across geographic distance. I don't have much of a fannish social network right now, but as a fan I definitely benefit from other people's literary correspondance. I thought that glimmering of historical context was quite interesting.
I actually have pieces of an SGA story rattling around in my brain. I'm not sure what to do with it because it's just another one of these ( with the ). Not original, but it made me laugh in my head. I think I'll reperform the cliche for my own amusement. Dear Internet: you need another shakily written McShep blowjob, right?
Though that will have to wait, because the office owns my computer through Thursday again. I am missing blowjob week on DS Recs! This is how devoted I am to getting my writeup done, I guess. I wonder if I should mention that in my final portfolio.
One last note: The poet emeritus of my church died last week. (Yes, I'm a churchgoing Unitarian.) She was 91, cursed like a sailor, may have partied with Zelda Fitzgerald, and makes me significantly less frightened of getting old. One thing that was mentioned in her memorial service was that even into her old age she maintained these letter-writing friendships with people all over the country. People wrote to her about her published work (all little zine-y things) and she wrote back and they talked about the stories they wrote and cracked dirty jokes and knew each other for decades, sometimes without ever meeting. And it occured to me that maybe what happens on livejournal / blogger / the internets is not that unusual, historically: it seems like there's a long history of literary, somewhat quirky women maintaining epistolary friendships across geographic distance. I don't have much of a fannish social network right now, but as a fan I definitely benefit from other people's literary correspondance. I thought that glimmering of historical context was quite interesting.