![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So I come back to 72 emails and skip 360 after two and a half days. This is improvement--I went away for four days in the summer and I had about twice that many emails and skip 600-something.
I previously volunteered to be, and now am, a mod at VENOM. I believe this makes me insane, though I hope I wouldn't be too remiss in my duties if I watch every thread except the Can't Stand Remus/Sirius one. I mean, they tell us in the rules not to look at a Can't Stand thread if we can't be rational about what the posters say on it, and while I'm pretty sure I can be rational, I don't want to risk it. *sigh* Am not sure if I would be able to be fair to the people on that thread (completely aside from the fact that watching it would depress me inordinately), so...bother. I hope it's not that big a deal that I don't watch it.
Anyway, back from Ashland. God, I love the Shakespeare Festival. We saw Comedy of Errors, The Royal Family, and A Raisin in the Sun, and Comedy of Errors was my favorite. They adapted it to make it Vegas-y (and at one point, Antipholus of Ephesus randomly said "my precious" *g*) and it was very pretty and funny. The Royal Family was sorta "eh", and Raisin in the Sun was really really good, heartbreaking and optimistic at the same time, interestingly enough.
There was shopping, and there was pear ice cream. And the pear ice cream made me happy. Ashland is the only place I have ever seen pear ice cream, which depresses me, because it's really very good.
Random funny thing about the trip back: we took a school bus down there and back (horrid uncomfortable seats for eight hours Thursday and today, urgh), and on the way back, we were on a road with just one lane for each direction. And you know how slow buses are, especially loaded with teenagers and their baggage. And I looked behind us, and there seemed to be about thirty cars, forced to our pace because of the one lane (and I'm guessing they didn't pass us because the bus is big and it's hard to see around so they didn't know if a car was coming the other way), and when we finally got to a stretch of road with two lanes, we just watched as twenty-seven cars switched lanes and passed us. 'Twas very amusing. *g*
Hokay. Sooo I tell
daily_snitch and
quickquote about the reclist and how I want website recs and so on. Only
daily_snitch said anything about it, and only one person commented on it, and that was just to tell me that they liked it. I appreciate that sort of thing, but you know, I do want to improve this reclist, and I certainly don't know all the websites and essays and such on the internet, nor do I have time to look for them all, and honestly, I can't believe that someone doesn't know something that I don't already have on there.
Having a vacation, even such a short one, was heavenly. I needed that. I think I'm still somewhat sick, though. I'll probably go to bed before midnight, and tomorrow get up before noon, play video games, chat with the
queerditch_pub people (I don't care for this week's prompt, so I won't be writing) and probably do some homework, though I have several days to get it all done, which is good.
1984 scares the shit out of me.
thistlerose, do you look at the Wolfstar anymore? *g* So far, one person has posed that you're JKR in disguise, and another has said that they would trust you or
copperbadge to write the OotP movie script to make it subtexty enough. They love you! :D
Ode to the Book
When I close a book
I open life.
I hear
faltering cries
among harbours.
Copper ignots
slide down sand-pits
to Tocopilla.
Night time.
Among the islands
our ocean
throbs with fish,
touches the feet, the thighs,
the chalk ribs
of my country.
The whole of night
clings to its shores, by dawn
it wakes up singing
as if it had excited a guitar.
The ocean's surge is calling.
The wind
calls me
and Rodriguez calls,
and Jose Antonio--
I got a telegram
from the "Mine" Union
and the one I love
(whose name I won't let out)
expects me in Bucalemu.
No book has been able
to wrap me in paper,
to fill me up
with typography,
with heavenly imprints
or was ever able
to bind my eyes,
I come out of books to people orchards
with the hoarse family of my song,
to work the burning metals
or to eat smoked beef
by mountain firesides.
I love adventurous
books,
books of forest or snow,
depth or sky
but hate
the spider book
in which thought
has laid poisonous wires
to trap the juvenile
and circling fly.
Book, let me go.
I won't go clothed
in volumes,
I don't come out
of collected works,
my poems
have not eaten poems--
they devour
exciting happenings,
feed on rough weather,
and dig their food
out of earth and men.
I'm on my way
with dust in my shoes
free of mythology:
send books back to their shelves,
I'm going down into the streets.
I learned about life
from life itself,
love I learned in a single kiss
and could teach no one anything
except that I have lived
with something in common among men,
when fighting with them,
when saying all their say in my song.
I previously volunteered to be, and now am, a mod at VENOM. I believe this makes me insane, though I hope I wouldn't be too remiss in my duties if I watch every thread except the Can't Stand Remus/Sirius one. I mean, they tell us in the rules not to look at a Can't Stand thread if we can't be rational about what the posters say on it, and while I'm pretty sure I can be rational, I don't want to risk it. *sigh* Am not sure if I would be able to be fair to the people on that thread (completely aside from the fact that watching it would depress me inordinately), so...bother. I hope it's not that big a deal that I don't watch it.
Anyway, back from Ashland. God, I love the Shakespeare Festival. We saw Comedy of Errors, The Royal Family, and A Raisin in the Sun, and Comedy of Errors was my favorite. They adapted it to make it Vegas-y (and at one point, Antipholus of Ephesus randomly said "my precious" *g*) and it was very pretty and funny. The Royal Family was sorta "eh", and Raisin in the Sun was really really good, heartbreaking and optimistic at the same time, interestingly enough.
There was shopping, and there was pear ice cream. And the pear ice cream made me happy. Ashland is the only place I have ever seen pear ice cream, which depresses me, because it's really very good.
Random funny thing about the trip back: we took a school bus down there and back (horrid uncomfortable seats for eight hours Thursday and today, urgh), and on the way back, we were on a road with just one lane for each direction. And you know how slow buses are, especially loaded with teenagers and their baggage. And I looked behind us, and there seemed to be about thirty cars, forced to our pace because of the one lane (and I'm guessing they didn't pass us because the bus is big and it's hard to see around so they didn't know if a car was coming the other way), and when we finally got to a stretch of road with two lanes, we just watched as twenty-seven cars switched lanes and passed us. 'Twas very amusing. *g*
Hokay. Sooo I tell
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Having a vacation, even such a short one, was heavenly. I needed that. I think I'm still somewhat sick, though. I'll probably go to bed before midnight, and tomorrow get up before noon, play video games, chat with the
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1984 scares the shit out of me.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Ode to the Book
When I close a book
I open life.
I hear
faltering cries
among harbours.
Copper ignots
slide down sand-pits
to Tocopilla.
Night time.
Among the islands
our ocean
throbs with fish,
touches the feet, the thighs,
the chalk ribs
of my country.
The whole of night
clings to its shores, by dawn
it wakes up singing
as if it had excited a guitar.
The ocean's surge is calling.
The wind
calls me
and Rodriguez calls,
and Jose Antonio--
I got a telegram
from the "Mine" Union
and the one I love
(whose name I won't let out)
expects me in Bucalemu.
No book has been able
to wrap me in paper,
to fill me up
with typography,
with heavenly imprints
or was ever able
to bind my eyes,
I come out of books to people orchards
with the hoarse family of my song,
to work the burning metals
or to eat smoked beef
by mountain firesides.
I love adventurous
books,
books of forest or snow,
depth or sky
but hate
the spider book
in which thought
has laid poisonous wires
to trap the juvenile
and circling fly.
Book, let me go.
I won't go clothed
in volumes,
I don't come out
of collected works,
my poems
have not eaten poems--
they devour
exciting happenings,
feed on rough weather,
and dig their food
out of earth and men.
I'm on my way
with dust in my shoes
free of mythology:
send books back to their shelves,
I'm going down into the streets.
I learned about life
from life itself,
love I learned in a single kiss
and could teach no one anything
except that I have lived
with something in common among men,
when fighting with them,
when saying all their say in my song.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:41 pm (UTC)What I tend to do whenever I see it is just scroll quickly past, as there's not much point in reading it, really.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 08:48 pm (UTC)I don't check the Wolfstar anymore. I haven't had the time lately, and the last time I did it was all, "What's their favorite ice cream flavor?" or some other often-recycled question. *blush* Did they really say that? That's so sweet. *melts* I should go back and have a look...
Btw, would you be willing to beta a fic or two or three? *g* I finished rewriting MC #3, and I've started MC #10.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:40 pm (UTC)And of course I'll beta! Just send things on over when you're done.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:16 pm (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2004-10-16 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-17 03:53 am (UTC)I go to grad school at SOU!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2004-10-17 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-17 11:59 am (UTC)I can't decide who should write the script for Goblet of Fire, though. (I know it's already written/being written. I'm talking about ideally.
Ideally, which fanfic writers do you think should have written the scripts for PS/SS, CoS and PoA? I personally wish that you, Rynne, had written the PoA one, so that Man That You Fear could have become canon.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-17 03:10 pm (UTC)But about the other ones...dunno. I don't read as much genfic as I'd like to, so I don't know the best authors, and PS/SS, CoS, and GoF seem more gen than PoA and OotP (though it might just be because they don't have R/S interaction...). But thank you! I wouldn't mind watching Man That You Fear on the big screen...*g*