fortification for the next four days
More specifically for tomorrow, when I'm to be in the office at noon (regular time being 4:30 p.m.) and shouldn't expect to leave until both weekend editions of East Polk are done, on the new system, with one of the "new" design girls. Being a compendium of all things making me happy right now, this will serve as a reminder that life is nonetheless worth living.
In the shower yesterday morning, Brandon and I discussed where the line is between fetish vs. fandom in terms of Star Trek versus religion and why one should be seen as more valid than the other. I might love him and have been trying to say so for a while, but it just came out as shampoo dripped into my eyes.
In a Sorkin two-for, not that I'm not already willing to break pretty much nine out of 10 commandments for him, Harriet is no longer a gaping black hole of screen time, and Sting plays the lute.
Despite the strife and anger and tears, both East Polk and Business made it out passably on their first night using the new software system, leading the managing editor to gush about Brandon and me as the "wizards" of MediaDesk all over, ironically, our old editing program Atex.
Just remembered that I got the phrase "high-end problem" into a headline on the Business front the other day. WORD TO MY MOTHER.
Thanks to a roommate somewhere in the course of human events, Brandon received mixes two through six and a few homemade (!) editions of DDR - including every song I've ever loved (I've got your number, Tribal Dance) - which he found on a CD this afternoon.
There's A LOT "" of Halloween candy on the kitchen counter.
Birthday windfalls mean I have enough money to buy an iMac. Not 24" of it like my heart of hearts desires, but a nice little 20" refurb, I think.
This will be a four-day workweek, after which Brandon and I have four days together starting Tuesday to cavort around Central Florida's finest Halloween venues.
Gilmore Girls did not break my heart into a thousand pieces this week. A hundred maybe, and mostly because of missed opportunities than blatant insipidity, but it wasn't the giant wad of suck that it's been. The banter was snappier, even through the pop culture stuff was shallow. Now, more Logan, less Christopher and no April, and we'd be so much closer to world peace than anyone writing for the show realizes.
This World of Warcraft songvid (dear god in heaven, you read that right) to Weird Al's Hardware Store.
Our laptops are set up across from each other on my pub-style dining room table. During last night's communal computer session, the Counting Crows' live album was accompanied by Brandon about two octaves below Adam Duritz.
The fact that this photo exists and has been provided to the media is, I think, wonderful. Like the one of Alito when he was five or so, blatant PR move though it was. But seriously, this Foley story? First of all, creepy and wrong, yes, but otherwise hilariously madcap and nonstop entertainment. Alcohol made him send instant messages while voting on the House floor! Homosexuality kept too long in the closet made him try to crash the pages' dorm! No, wait, priest abuse made him do it ALL! Oh, Republicans.
We've toasted with the first eggnog of the season.
Uh, I tried to space out the Brandon stuff, but he accounts disproportionately for my happiness these days.
In the shower yesterday morning, Brandon and I discussed where the line is between fetish vs. fandom in terms of Star Trek versus religion and why one should be seen as more valid than the other. I might love him and have been trying to say so for a while, but it just came out as shampoo dripped into my eyes.
In a Sorkin two-for, not that I'm not already willing to break pretty much nine out of 10 commandments for him, Harriet is no longer a gaping black hole of screen time, and Sting plays the lute.
Despite the strife and anger and tears, both East Polk and Business made it out passably on their first night using the new software system, leading the managing editor to gush about Brandon and me as the "wizards" of MediaDesk all over, ironically, our old editing program Atex.
Just remembered that I got the phrase "high-end problem" into a headline on the Business front the other day. WORD TO MY MOTHER.
Thanks to a roommate somewhere in the course of human events, Brandon received mixes two through six and a few homemade (!) editions of DDR - including every song I've ever loved (I've got your number, Tribal Dance) - which he found on a CD this afternoon.
There's A LOT "" of Halloween candy on the kitchen counter.
Birthday windfalls mean I have enough money to buy an iMac. Not 24" of it like my heart of hearts desires, but a nice little 20" refurb, I think.
This will be a four-day workweek, after which Brandon and I have four days together starting Tuesday to cavort around Central Florida's finest Halloween venues.
Gilmore Girls did not break my heart into a thousand pieces this week. A hundred maybe, and mostly because of missed opportunities than blatant insipidity, but it wasn't the giant wad of suck that it's been. The banter was snappier, even through the pop culture stuff was shallow. Now, more Logan, less Christopher and no April, and we'd be so much closer to world peace than anyone writing for the show realizes.
This World of Warcraft songvid (dear god in heaven, you read that right) to Weird Al's Hardware Store.
Our laptops are set up across from each other on my pub-style dining room table. During last night's communal computer session, the Counting Crows' live album was accompanied by Brandon about two octaves below Adam Duritz.
The fact that this photo exists and has been provided to the media is, I think, wonderful. Like the one of Alito when he was five or so, blatant PR move though it was. But seriously, this Foley story? First of all, creepy and wrong, yes, but otherwise hilariously madcap and nonstop entertainment. Alcohol made him send instant messages while voting on the House floor! Homosexuality kept too long in the closet made him try to crash the pages' dorm! No, wait, priest abuse made him do it ALL! Oh, Republicans.
We've toasted with the first eggnog of the season.
Uh, I tried to space out the Brandon stuff, but he accounts disproportionately for my happiness these days.