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I spin so ceaselessly
Today was busy. I saw ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mrbelm for a book handoff at the Diesel. I saw Matthew in between errands. I saw Dean for lunch at Sofra. (Score one for the lamb shawarma with tahini yogurt.) I saw two episodes of Millennium with lesser_celery. (Hence the Patti Smith.) I saw the newly restored print of William Wellman's Wings (1927) at the Brattle Theatre with derspatchel, a bottle of rose lemonade, and some chocolate with cornflakes in. And then I came home to collapse.
And I saw Sofia Samatar's post on Stone Telling and Alan Turing.
And I saw thattime_shark wants my Charon (sap) poem for Mythic Delirium, although it will need a proper title before it sees print.
I'm still collapsing, but I'm in a pretty good mood.
mrbelm for a book handoff at the Diesel. I saw Matthew in between errands. I saw Dean for lunch at Sofra. (Score one for the lamb shawarma with tahini yogurt.) I saw two episodes of Millennium with lesser_celery. (Hence the Patti Smith.) I saw the newly restored print of William Wellman's Wings (1927) at the Brattle Theatre with derspatchel, a bottle of rose lemonade, and some chocolate with cornflakes in. And then I came home to collapse.And I saw Sofia Samatar's post on Stone Telling and Alan Turing.
And I saw that
time_shark wants my Charon (sap) poem for Mythic Delirium, although it will need a proper title before it sees print.I'm still collapsing, but I'm in a pretty good mood.
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I was so delighted to see the Sofia Samatar essay--I love the "The Clock House." Bet you're walking on air.
Nine
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I'm delighted with the Sofia Samatar piece, and that your poem is wanted.
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Also: LJ hasn't been sending me comments notification, so I wonder if you saw my four replies to your last comment in Monday's entry. Love to know your responses, if so.
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(Ritter Sport Knusperflake, or some other cornflaked chocolate?)
Maybe I should submit "Venus of Willendorf Fight Song" somewhere....
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I don't want to crash again. It's been a while since I actually ran out of ability to see people. I did sleep last night. I dreamed of drinking absinthe in a city that doesn't exist.
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I haven't been able to comment due to the vagaries of OpenID, but I really am honored to have been part of her discovery of Alan Turing. Hugh Whitemore was mine. It's like passing the history on.
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It was a lot of different people my first day out of hibernation. I'd have preferred more space. But it worked out all right.
I was so delighted to see the Sofia Samatar essay--I love the "The Clock House."
Thank you. I was not expecting that kind of response.
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I will certainly try to let you know, although if it's as mindblowing as my friendlist has made it sound, all you get may be one of those concussion-eyed little ASCII faces and some Biblical quotes.
LJ hasn't been sending me comments notification, so I wonder if you saw my four replies to your last comment in Monday's entry. Love to know your responses, if so.
Oh, Livejournal. Be right over.
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Thank you! Likewise!
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I hope to see you in the ToC!
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Thank you!
(Ritter Sport Knusperflake, or some other cornflaked chocolate?)
No, I believe that was it; Rob provided it. It was like high-end Kit-Kat.
Maybe I should submit "Venus of Willendorf Fight Song" somewhere....
You know, I don't think it could hurt.
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*wanders off to dig around in paper-pubs archive, which is still in the luggage just brought back from across the pond*
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Yes, precioussssssss.
I'll incorporate Up, Up, Willendorf [Mammoth Stampede Remix] as part of the radio play. More absurd can never hurt, either.
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Nine
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What a wonderful post.
And congratulations on the poetry sale!
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I'm glad you slept.
I dreamed of drinking absinthe in a city that doesn't exist.
Interesting. I like the concept. Was it a city that was somewhat like some city that does, or was it altogether alien?
I dreamt of a city with corridors in place of streets; all the colours were tans and yellows, perhaps with a bit of soft ochre (like a Border's bookshop, maybe?). A street cleaner was binning stuffed animals from my childhood. Not the ones I loved best--somehow I knew those were safe--but it bothered me; they'd been put out for donation, not as rubbish. I stopped him.
Then I was sitting at an outlet, charging my laptop, or something that did the same job. Three software entrepeneurs with Cork City (one may've sounded more Waterford, but I didn't hear as much of him) accents were having a meeting, sitting around a desktop computer. The desk was close to me, to the point that they excused themselves as they sat down. I thought of talking with them, but I didn't.
I can't say I was pleased, but I was grateful it wasn't worse. I saw Warhorse (2011) last evening, and was a bit worried my dreams might be haunted with horses and mud and artillery.
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SHOW ME THIS OBJECT.
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Thank you!
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We were definitely in an issue of Not One of Us!
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