First, a fanfic rec. 101 Ways To End Up In A Canadian Shack - 30 Authors, 62 fandoms. Holy shit.
And now - whatta damn morning. Woke up. Bill’s day job is closed today so he doesn’t have to go anywhere until 2:00 this afternoon. Lucky bugger. He’s probably still asleep as I write this. Fed the kitties, made my coffee, warmed up the car, walked out the door. Locked the door. Remembered that I had *left* the damn thermos of coffee on the counter where it would do me not a damn bit of good. Keys of course are in the car. Decided it really wasn’t worth turning off the car and going back inside. I stop at the store and get Vivrain instead. I, of course, forget that I don’t have the caffeine tolerance of a god anymore. I am now twitching on a caffeine high the likes of which I have not seen since Bill fed me half a pot of espresso.
I do not care that it’s new years eve. I shot my whole holiday load off with christmas, and there’s nothing left. No desire to get trashed, no desire to be surrounded by crowds of obnoxious drunks. I want to have a nice drink or two, kiss my boyfriend at midnight, and go to sleep content in the knowledge that I will *not* be cleaning up vomit in the morning.
To those that have written with happy feedback about the new Digital pics (especially you, Doug) - thank you! 
I must be doin’ it for the love. The stuff I get paid for is nowhere near as fun.
Well, the day is deader than Christmas Eve. We’re down to two people in the office (four showed up) and I have no excuse to leave early. Ugh. So I’m blogging.
*Finally* saw Lord of the Rings on Sunday. Got a sore bottom from sitting for almost three hours and almost got lost trying to find my row after running out for a restroom break. Loved it. Loved every bit about it. And I only have to wait 12 months for the next one.
Oh! and we got a trailer for Queen of the Damned. Looks tasty. And Blade 2. Looks rentable.
Back to LotR… yeah, they fleshed out Arwen’s character more than was written, but hey… I don’t want to have to wait ’till 2003 to see a good chick-with-sword scene. And I will never get tired of looking at Liv Tyler in that get up. A lot of the Gandalf scenes reminded me of my grandfather for some reason. That *something* that was sparkling and shining in his eyes, the kind humor and feeling of safe haven.
Merry and Pippin… I know these boys. Everyon’s younger brother or cousin who might make your life inpossible but really, you couldn’t do without them. Sam…. loyal like a dog but lots smarter. Breaks my heart knowing what he’s going to go through.
Not really touching other major characters. Enough folks are going on about them.
Boromir… human weakness and fraility, and the desire to do right getting all mucked up and coming out wrong. Just like every one of us. Gimli…. I will never ever get tired of John Rhys-Davies. “No one tosses a dwarf!” Giggle.
The ring…. is a central character. Lots of folks seem taken aback by this. Lots of folks have not read the book. Heh.
And the Shire. I got so homesick….. I want my fields and mountains and trees back. I want the gods blessed *quiet* of the forest in the morning. I want subtle sounds of life around me. I don’t want to see a highway for 50 miles and I don’t want to hear a single vheicle for an hour. North eastern, urban/subarban Jersey *blows* in the winter.
Talked with my mom yesterday, and she asks if I’ve been writing anything lately. I look at my anemic paper journal and say no. So why do I consider this ‘blog less legit than something on paper?
New years resolutions:
1. Become less neurotic about my thighs.
2. Take a real god damn vacation. (Min. of 1 week, out of state.)
The list might be longer, but I think I’ve already hit fantasy land.
It’s happening, folks. Jesus christ, it’s really happening. Neo-McCarthyist, 1984-esq, big brother MIB’s lurking at the edges of our lives. Just waiting for an impropriety to occur.
I. Am. Frightened.
I and people like me could very well get blackballed in the near future. I suppose I’m a lot of pretty disreputable things right now. I’m liberal, libertarian, pagan, pro-peace, and intellectual. I think spewing foul epithets about Ramadan only exposes the paucity of learning in the average American mind. I think just because we’ve pushed the SMITE button and turned a foreign country into rubble in no way makes us better, brings back a single dead soul, or fixes a single problem in the world.
Artists, intellectuals, and protesters were the first ones they came after in the 50’s. Is it happening again? Should I thank TBTB that I haven’t gotten a visit yet? Should I expect one? Should I laugh it all off and just try to go on with my life, trying to keep my head above the ocean of governmental yes-men, every one of whom clamors louder than the one before to support the president and his decisions. Every one of whom struggles to fly the flag just a little more obviously.
Maybe military action was the only way. But we’ll never really know, will we?
But it’s not war folks. That takes an act of congress. This is the president doing his thing.
Hmmm…. and I *still* don’t buy into the whole “go about your lives as if nothing is wrong or *they* win”, “buy lots of stuff to strengthen the economy or *they* win” mentality. The only way to defeat terrorists involves me being broke and in denial? I don’t get it.
Has anyone wondered if this “war on terrorism” will do as well as the “war on drugs”?
I am working on christmas eve. Half the office isn’t even here, and my brains are dripping out my ears from the boredom. I should have actually partied during the office party on friday, but I was my geek self and worked through most of it. All I really want to do is get in the car and drive out to my family for Big Family Dinner time. (Which I will be doing in about two or three hours.)
In spite of the fact that I get to leave early today, I want to go *now*. I just get homesick sometimes. Ok, I’m 26 and my apartment really is my home, but the house where I was raised (and *born* fer chrissakes) is where part of my heart will always be. Mmrf.
And in spite of everything, I’m guilting myself for not doing more in the gift department. Aarg. I never used to worry about these things. Christmas was about more than just who got what and who gave what and how many boxes you brought. And now I’ve been infected with this sense of inadequacy because I didn’t get something for *everyone*, in spite of the fact that we aren’t *supposed* to go overboard like that with my family.
Which means I spent last night baking like a fiend. The cookies turned out ok. (My backup plan included hitting a bakery this morning if I screwed up)
Anna has some good observations on Spike’s redemption.
Giving gift certificates feels like a cop out. But I like it when I get them. (They always seem to be for Borders or Barnes and Noble) But I like putting some real thought into gifts and GS’s just seem so damm… easy. Generic. So I’ve made myself insane again this year trying to find The Perfect Gift for everyone. And living right next to Paramus, NJ (more malls than you can shake a stick at) doesn’t help. I’m drowning in a sea of mass marketed pseudo retail culture. It sucks.
Beginnings of a poem/random ideas that have been floating around in my head these last few days. Memories from growing up mostly.
Summer mornings - getting up early to pick raspberries for breakfast.
Winter evenings - sitting behind the wood stove. (Very cozy - warm is a good thing.)
We’d be a lot better off if instead of this whole war thing, we simply challenged al Qaeda to send their four best pro wrestlers to fight against three of our pro wrestlers and Leonardo DiCaprio. Not only would we quickly resolve this conflict, we’d get to see Leo beaten with a folding chair.
-James Floyd
Heh - I’d pay to watch that.
“The children of artists don’t grow up with a lot of romantic notions about the role of the artist.” - Would you believe I didn’t write that line? Jane St. Claire did. Damn true though. You have no idea.