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Ich bin ein lizard
Jan. 16th, 2002 02:18 pm<Morning whine deleted>
We won't go into the details of the cold that Seattle's currently experiencing. It's somewhere between freezing and forty, with a great deal of humidity, and it's not the cold so much as, well... me.
I'm a lizard, you see. Solar-powered, yes, that's obvious, and while cats have lovely furry coats and sleep twenty hours out of the day (spending the other four eating, licking themselves and attempting to crawl on me while I'm on the computer or reading), cats don't hibernate.
Lizards do. And that's what I think my body's been trying to do lately - eat lots, and curl up in nice warm places for long naps. Only thing is, and this is where I got incredibly whiny this morning until I got dragged into a meeting before I could post, and fed cream cheese pastries and maple bars until the cranky fit passed - only thing is, my room isn't exactly warm right now.
It's this beautiful, large, open space with views and windows and comfy pillows on the floor and two computers and a stereo (that skips on all the cds I actually want to listen to, except for the compilations, so it's ok), and on top of it all, it's cold. Like, a blanket, a sweater and my robe just to check email before bed.
I think I may have whined about this before. Still, I've only complained to the landlord a few times, and not recently, and Meg informed me this morning that the ambient temperature of my room should be about 65, and that I can take it out of the rent to get it fixed. I sense a letter of complaint in my immediate future.
I missed the trolling of Critical Edge by a few days, and reading through the messages this morning in no way improved my opinion of the troll. The entire tone of her interaction was belligerent, and left me with the impression that she's an unmitigated bitch. Call me naive, but I'd rather not be remembered at all than remembered in an incredibly unpleasant light.
I finished Mort and Sourcery last night, and I'm in the middle of Wyrd Sisters today. The blurb on the front: "Think JRR Tolkein with a sharper, more satiric edge." -- Houston Chronicle
Uh... The Fuck? Dude, he's totally ripping off Shakespeare, right and left, Hamlet and Macbeth most prominently. This would be more like, I dunno, Mists of Avalon, only gut-bustingly funny. It's just so hard to compare him to serious writers because while the world may be fantasy, the approach is more like stand-up comedy.
Eh. Good Times were had, and I never trusted a Texas reviewer in any case.
We won't go into the details of the cold that Seattle's currently experiencing. It's somewhere between freezing and forty, with a great deal of humidity, and it's not the cold so much as, well... me.
I'm a lizard, you see. Solar-powered, yes, that's obvious, and while cats have lovely furry coats and sleep twenty hours out of the day (spending the other four eating, licking themselves and attempting to crawl on me while I'm on the computer or reading), cats don't hibernate.
Lizards do. And that's what I think my body's been trying to do lately - eat lots, and curl up in nice warm places for long naps. Only thing is, and this is where I got incredibly whiny this morning until I got dragged into a meeting before I could post, and fed cream cheese pastries and maple bars until the cranky fit passed - only thing is, my room isn't exactly warm right now.
It's this beautiful, large, open space with views and windows and comfy pillows on the floor and two computers and a stereo (that skips on all the cds I actually want to listen to, except for the compilations, so it's ok), and on top of it all, it's cold. Like, a blanket, a sweater and my robe just to check email before bed.
I think I may have whined about this before. Still, I've only complained to the landlord a few times, and not recently, and Meg informed me this morning that the ambient temperature of my room should be about 65, and that I can take it out of the rent to get it fixed. I sense a letter of complaint in my immediate future.
I missed the trolling of Critical Edge by a few days, and reading through the messages this morning in no way improved my opinion of the troll. The entire tone of her interaction was belligerent, and left me with the impression that she's an unmitigated bitch. Call me naive, but I'd rather not be remembered at all than remembered in an incredibly unpleasant light.
I finished Mort and Sourcery last night, and I'm in the middle of Wyrd Sisters today. The blurb on the front: "Think JRR Tolkein with a sharper, more satiric edge." -- Houston Chronicle
Uh... The Fuck? Dude, he's totally ripping off Shakespeare, right and left, Hamlet and Macbeth most prominently. This would be more like, I dunno, Mists of Avalon, only gut-bustingly funny. It's just so hard to compare him to serious writers because while the world may be fantasy, the approach is more like stand-up comedy.
Eh. Good Times were had, and I never trusted a Texas reviewer in any case.
