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The Long Weekend, Part the End
Apr. 20th, 2004 11:18 amI got sucked into computer games Monday morning instead of starting in on the vastly productive to-do list I'd come up with, and once I'd fought my way free around new and was ready to eat lunch and start doing things?
Dru calls. He's finally ending the farce of the Blue Beast and going with the guy to the DOL and would I like to do lunch?
Two hours later, he catches up to me in our designated meeting place - the UBookstore. If I had to wait, at least it was a good place to do it. I was flush enough with recent book exposure, I wasn't really tempted to buy anything, but I did (as always) note down a few titles.
Dru's moved on from the chin strip (I told him if he tried a soul patch, I'd either disown him or pin him down and shave his entire head) to a full goatee, which looks pretty good on him. He's not looking forward to going back to AMR when his leg heals, as he'll be right back on the bottom of the totem pole, shift-wise, and he'll just end up with 3-6 months of crappy, long, weekend shifts. So he's taking the opportunity to look for a new job. I told him we had one, but he'd have to learn Mac and PC troubleshooting and networking, and Filemaker upkeep and design. So that's a no.
Mom called just as I was playing tag with Dru, and so I called back after I made sure he caught his bus. It was a near thing - he had a block to go to the stop, and the bus pulled up to the stoplight next to him. Fortunately, the driver was sympathetic to the frantic waving and the dude on crutches. Mom and I chatted onto the bus and off, and then switched to the house phone when my cell cut off inside. Papa's gone home after helping them out with the yard and such, and they have a gal interested in the house who's come back three times with an architect in tow. Dad doesn't have anything firm for job offers, but they're pretty serious about moving to the Northwest. Mom was poking around online, looking at houses down near Olympia.
And when I finally hung up, it was almost past five, and my productive day was a few hours of laundry and harvesting the worm bin for soil. I started a couple more yogurt cups of basil, and planted the cilantro, parsely and chives in a long box on the windowsill. I have another window box, but it's currently serving as storage for all my seeds (and I really should pop those into a closed box away from the light and heat.)
I picked up a really atrocious Regency romance on Sunday to while away the lulls in the counting line, and I finished it last night. I've been doing quite a bit of research into the time period lately, not just the Regency period (which is really only 1811-1820) but the entire Georgian period into the 1820s, starting right where American history started agressively ignoring the Brits right after the conclusion of the Revolutionary War. (Which is really where it gets exciting back on the Continent, what with the French Revolution and then Napolean and all sorts of exciting Hornblower/Aubrey/Sharpe stuff.) The story goes: the Earl's daughter who has been left penniless by the entailment of her father's estate. is wooed by the returning war hero Colonel. Which I could have dealt with, had the author kept her modern political sensibilities the hell away from my historical romantic escapism.
Most people wouldn't have noticed, especially the target market, but I kept being jarred out of the story by the inaccuracies in both social and political realities. And then I got to the sex. I wasn't more than a paragraph into it before my brain started dissecting it for me: 'Ok first time, she's clueless but swept away by passion, he knows what he's doing, but of course it's better because it's *her*, pain as the hymen breaks, it gets better, thrust thrust, ooh ah, they both come.' *headdesk*
I don't know how many times I've read that sequence in fanfic. Swap out the hymen bit for stretching in slash. It just makes me appreciate good writers who can make it fresh, sexy and sensual that much more. Alas, this romance writer was *not* one of them. Ah well. Put me to sleep at least.
So this work thing - I should do it now.
Dru calls. He's finally ending the farce of the Blue Beast and going with the guy to the DOL and would I like to do lunch?
Two hours later, he catches up to me in our designated meeting place - the UBookstore. If I had to wait, at least it was a good place to do it. I was flush enough with recent book exposure, I wasn't really tempted to buy anything, but I did (as always) note down a few titles.
Dru's moved on from the chin strip (I told him if he tried a soul patch, I'd either disown him or pin him down and shave his entire head) to a full goatee, which looks pretty good on him. He's not looking forward to going back to AMR when his leg heals, as he'll be right back on the bottom of the totem pole, shift-wise, and he'll just end up with 3-6 months of crappy, long, weekend shifts. So he's taking the opportunity to look for a new job. I told him we had one, but he'd have to learn Mac and PC troubleshooting and networking, and Filemaker upkeep and design. So that's a no.
Mom called just as I was playing tag with Dru, and so I called back after I made sure he caught his bus. It was a near thing - he had a block to go to the stop, and the bus pulled up to the stoplight next to him. Fortunately, the driver was sympathetic to the frantic waving and the dude on crutches. Mom and I chatted onto the bus and off, and then switched to the house phone when my cell cut off inside. Papa's gone home after helping them out with the yard and such, and they have a gal interested in the house who's come back three times with an architect in tow. Dad doesn't have anything firm for job offers, but they're pretty serious about moving to the Northwest. Mom was poking around online, looking at houses down near Olympia.
And when I finally hung up, it was almost past five, and my productive day was a few hours of laundry and harvesting the worm bin for soil. I started a couple more yogurt cups of basil, and planted the cilantro, parsely and chives in a long box on the windowsill. I have another window box, but it's currently serving as storage for all my seeds (and I really should pop those into a closed box away from the light and heat.)
I picked up a really atrocious Regency romance on Sunday to while away the lulls in the counting line, and I finished it last night. I've been doing quite a bit of research into the time period lately, not just the Regency period (which is really only 1811-1820) but the entire Georgian period into the 1820s, starting right where American history started agressively ignoring the Brits right after the conclusion of the Revolutionary War. (Which is really where it gets exciting back on the Continent, what with the French Revolution and then Napolean and all sorts of exciting Hornblower/Aubrey/Sharpe stuff.) The story goes: the Earl's daughter who has been left penniless by the entailment of her father's estate. is wooed by the returning war hero Colonel. Which I could have dealt with, had the author kept her modern political sensibilities the hell away from my historical romantic escapism.
Most people wouldn't have noticed, especially the target market, but I kept being jarred out of the story by the inaccuracies in both social and political realities. And then I got to the sex. I wasn't more than a paragraph into it before my brain started dissecting it for me: 'Ok first time, she's clueless but swept away by passion, he knows what he's doing, but of course it's better because it's *her*, pain as the hymen breaks, it gets better, thrust thrust, ooh ah, they both come.' *headdesk*
I don't know how many times I've read that sequence in fanfic. Swap out the hymen bit for stretching in slash. It just makes me appreciate good writers who can make it fresh, sexy and sensual that much more. Alas, this romance writer was *not* one of them. Ah well. Put me to sleep at least.
So this work thing - I should do it now.
