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Creative anachronisms
I actually did accomplish a lot, even though I gave up and slept for the two hours around dawn. Did the crits, did some writing and some of the labs, got caught up on my fanmail.
(Yes I get fanmail! Ok, not much fanmail, but considering I manage to get months behind on it *anyway*, that's probably for the best.)
I'm doing laundry now, as one of the girls on my floor is borrowing my cloak for her Tolkien presentation tomorrow, and I wanted to try to get the taco smell out of it first. (Note: Tacos shouldn't go in pockets.) Went down to the laundry room and saw a pile of my clothes on top of one of the dryers, been there since who-knows-when. So *that's* why it seemed like I suddenly had fewer clothes! (Note 2: stop doing laundry at three in the morning.)
And speaking of cloaks, I was sitting out by the dining hall eating dinner when a random but interesting guy came up to me and asked:
Are you the girl from Dorchester who wears the cloak? Are you in SCA or Markland by any chance?
And are you the girl with the typewriter? Are you in Writer's House then? I'm applying.
They say that carrying a baby around will make strangers talk to you, but I've found that a manual typewriter serves the same purpose. The next nice evening we have I will have to pull it out again, and find a convenient streetlight to write under. But this time I will make sure to write something I can actually show people, not twisted H/G/T smut like last time. Writing by manual typewriter under a streetlamp in a leather jacket somehow makes me feel all noir and hard-boiled, and I actually get writing done. If dad ever gets Pop-pop's old Underwood #5 working right I shall be entirely unable to resist stealing it.
Also, am considering going to Markland meeting Tuesday. But am scared. Can you see me doing SCA-style-but-more-realistic fighting? I could certainly use the exercise, anyway. Hopefully I will remember to go to the lit mag meeting in half an hour, at least, for once.
In non-real-life news, thank you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alfedenzo for friending me! Yay!
(Yes I get fanmail! Ok, not much fanmail, but considering I manage to get months behind on it *anyway*, that's probably for the best.)
I'm doing laundry now, as one of the girls on my floor is borrowing my cloak for her Tolkien presentation tomorrow, and I wanted to try to get the taco smell out of it first. (Note: Tacos shouldn't go in pockets.) Went down to the laundry room and saw a pile of my clothes on top of one of the dryers, been there since who-knows-when. So *that's* why it seemed like I suddenly had fewer clothes! (Note 2: stop doing laundry at three in the morning.)
And speaking of cloaks, I was sitting out by the dining hall eating dinner when a random but interesting guy came up to me and asked:
Are you the girl from Dorchester who wears the cloak? Are you in SCA or Markland by any chance?
And are you the girl with the typewriter? Are you in Writer's House then? I'm applying.
They say that carrying a baby around will make strangers talk to you, but I've found that a manual typewriter serves the same purpose. The next nice evening we have I will have to pull it out again, and find a convenient streetlight to write under. But this time I will make sure to write something I can actually show people, not twisted H/G/T smut like last time. Writing by manual typewriter under a streetlamp in a leather jacket somehow makes me feel all noir and hard-boiled, and I actually get writing done. If dad ever gets Pop-pop's old Underwood #5 working right I shall be entirely unable to resist stealing it.
Also, am considering going to Markland meeting Tuesday. But am scared. Can you see me doing SCA-style-but-more-realistic fighting? I could certainly use the exercise, anyway. Hopefully I will remember to go to the lit mag meeting in half an hour, at least, for once.
In non-real-life news, thank you
alfedenzo for friending me! Yay!
no subject
I'm...*sniff* I'm not real?
...well that explains a bit.
As for friending you, how could I not friend one of my first vocal fans/readers and repeat giver of fanart?
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. . . . besides, you're Canadian. :P I've always thought Canada was some sort of imaginary fairytale land, really . .
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And what general area would these streetlights be? *innocent*
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The streetlights will be somewhere very noir.
Maybe somewhere in the bad part of DC.
Or possibly right outside McKeldin.
Or somewhere in between, really.
I just suppose I'm lucky you didn't beg to see the H/G/T fic.
no subject