What do I normally do with my hands?
LJ, I would ask you where the last month has gone, but I know where the last month has gone: into the copyediting void. I took a freelance gig for my old boss, which ate up all my time and brainpower (but paid well, so)--and now that I'm done, I'm all, boooorn freeeee, as free as the wind bloooows. I can do WHATEVER I WANT!
Speaking of which, who (has two thumbs and) is taking a spur-of-the-moment long weekend in LA? THIS GIRL! midtownmandy emailed me yesterday, throwing around talk of the Bones Paley panel (would I like her extra ticket?, she asks all innocent-like) and maybe Disneyland on Saturday, and so I struck a deal with the boss and storyboarded LIKE THE WIND today, so that I can hop on down I-5 on Thursday. It's a mini-break! And, as everybody knows, mini-breaks mean true love.
Now I just need my neighbor to come home, so I can accost her and ask her to feed Sherlock. (My friends have been the very nicest about this sort of thing on past weekends away--they've actually volunteered--but...they shouldn't have to. Except maybe Luke, who wants a cat but is afraid of commitment. For him, it's probably a nice step.)
I went to Joy the Baker's cookbook signing in San Francisco on Sunday, and man, if every twenty- and thirty-something lady in the city wasn't all dolled up and crammed into (slash out the door of, spilling half a block down Cesar Chavez) a cookbook store about the size of my bathroom. I actually ran into somebody I knew from the Internet--but I COULD NOT remember her name despite remembering everything else about her just fine. I guess this is what happens when blogs turn into books. Joy the Baker didn't actually read or speak, which was probably fine since half the audience wouldn't have heard her anyway. The line was forEVer, but I did buy the book and have it signed, so Brown Butter-Peanut Butter Rice Krispie Treats, here I come! And hey, she said she liked my outfit.
(Also, I've had this--not from the cookbook--for lunch the last two days, and decided it may be the world's most perfect lunchbox food. Don't skimp on the jalapeno.)
I just started Mansfield Park after outing myself on Austenacious as an Austen blogger who hasn't read all of Austen's novels (if you want to read along, join us!). Before that, I was reading Of Bees and Mist, by Erick Setiawan, which I borrowed sight unseen from a librarian friend and was enjoying (also Independent People, which is Icelandic and apparently won the Nobel Prize in the 1950s, and a book of Elizabeth Gaskell ghost stories). I never do that anymore--read books I've never heard of. Whatever happened to picking random books off the shelves of the public library? That's how I used to get ALL my books. It's sort of liberating, actually, reading something with no preconceived notions. I feel like my twelve-year-old self would approve.
Late to the party, I've started on the William H. Macy/Showtime Shameless, which I like very very much so far for being the perfect blend of crass and heartfelt. Bones and Fringe are both on hiatuses of doom and I haven't been bothered to watch any of the new stuff. Is it bad that I'm not watching Smash? Should I change my mind? Do my enjoyment of Megan Hilty and Anjelica Huston outweigh my irrational rejection of Katharine McPhee and my lack of caring about the Starlet Overcomes the Odds and Makes It On Broadway (When They Already Told Us She's Going to Make It On Broadway) storyline? Also under the category of Things I Meant To Watch But Don't: Alcatraz, Awake. (At least Alcatraz is a Bad Robot production, which means I'm contractually obligated to pick it up and fall hard for it between the third and fourth seasons. See you in 2015, Sam Neill!)
In conclusion, I spent a significant amount of time the other day looking for an icon of Amy Poehler's Weekend Update "Don't tell me what to do!" outburst but was unsuccessful. (This is how you know I'm LJ Forever: like six people are still on LJ, and I'm all, "Hey maybe there's an icon for that!" Aww, self.)
Speaking of which, who (has two thumbs and) is taking a spur-of-the-moment long weekend in LA? THIS GIRL! midtownmandy emailed me yesterday, throwing around talk of the Bones Paley panel (would I like her extra ticket?, she asks all innocent-like) and maybe Disneyland on Saturday, and so I struck a deal with the boss and storyboarded LIKE THE WIND today, so that I can hop on down I-5 on Thursday. It's a mini-break! And, as everybody knows, mini-breaks mean true love.
Now I just need my neighbor to come home, so I can accost her and ask her to feed Sherlock. (My friends have been the very nicest about this sort of thing on past weekends away--they've actually volunteered--but...they shouldn't have to. Except maybe Luke, who wants a cat but is afraid of commitment. For him, it's probably a nice step.)
I went to Joy the Baker's cookbook signing in San Francisco on Sunday, and man, if every twenty- and thirty-something lady in the city wasn't all dolled up and crammed into (slash out the door of, spilling half a block down Cesar Chavez) a cookbook store about the size of my bathroom. I actually ran into somebody I knew from the Internet--but I COULD NOT remember her name despite remembering everything else about her just fine. I guess this is what happens when blogs turn into books. Joy the Baker didn't actually read or speak, which was probably fine since half the audience wouldn't have heard her anyway. The line was forEVer, but I did buy the book and have it signed, so Brown Butter-Peanut Butter Rice Krispie Treats, here I come! And hey, she said she liked my outfit.
(Also, I've had this--not from the cookbook--for lunch the last two days, and decided it may be the world's most perfect lunchbox food. Don't skimp on the jalapeno.)
I just started Mansfield Park after outing myself on Austenacious as an Austen blogger who hasn't read all of Austen's novels (if you want to read along, join us!). Before that, I was reading Of Bees and Mist, by Erick Setiawan, which I borrowed sight unseen from a librarian friend and was enjoying (also Independent People, which is Icelandic and apparently won the Nobel Prize in the 1950s, and a book of Elizabeth Gaskell ghost stories). I never do that anymore--read books I've never heard of. Whatever happened to picking random books off the shelves of the public library? That's how I used to get ALL my books. It's sort of liberating, actually, reading something with no preconceived notions. I feel like my twelve-year-old self would approve.
Late to the party, I've started on the William H. Macy/Showtime Shameless, which I like very very much so far for being the perfect blend of crass and heartfelt. Bones and Fringe are both on hiatuses of doom and I haven't been bothered to watch any of the new stuff. Is it bad that I'm not watching Smash? Should I change my mind? Do my enjoyment of Megan Hilty and Anjelica Huston outweigh my irrational rejection of Katharine McPhee and my lack of caring about the Starlet Overcomes the Odds and Makes It On Broadway (When They Already Told Us She's Going to Make It On Broadway) storyline? Also under the category of Things I Meant To Watch But Don't: Alcatraz, Awake. (At least Alcatraz is a Bad Robot production, which means I'm contractually obligated to pick it up and fall hard for it between the third and fourth seasons. See you in 2015, Sam Neill!)
In conclusion, I spent a significant amount of time the other day looking for an icon of Amy Poehler's Weekend Update "Don't tell me what to do!" outburst but was unsuccessful. (This is how you know I'm LJ Forever: like six people are still on LJ, and I'm all, "Hey maybe there's an icon for that!" Aww, self.)