How felicitous
Okay, um, apparently I won't be too busy to write.
I had some "retail therapy", as Annie Lamott calls it, after I found out I was fired -- I went to Chapters and bought the big fat Arden Shakespeare edition of Hamlet, and Harold Bloom's Hamlet: Poem Unlimited, which is awesome if you're a Bardolator like me. The NAC production I saw here last year with Tom Rooney was absolutely perfect: Laertes a bit too greasy, and Ophelia a little too slick, but otherwise ideal. (I can't stand a bad Laertes -- I always have a soft spot for the minor character who seems to have a story but never really gets the spotlight, which I suppose is the fanficcer in me. I wrote a poem about Laertes in high school, actually.)
On my last day at work, I happened to spot Father Gilles at Human Resources: not French, but a grey-haired Irish gentleman who consoled me about my firing. It was his cubicle that I liked, though -- he had a picture of St. Francis cut from a magazine tacked up with a badge from the Pope's visit to Canada, and the desk was a warzone. It was almost exactly how I imagined Father Gilles's office to be. I love when I meet people in real life who remind me of my characters. I saw Joel once riding a bike across campus at Queen's, an older Joel more confident in himself.
I always wish I had more entertaining stuff to put in this journal, besides announcements and these random blatherings. I'd like to write pungent editorials on fannish things, but I don't really pay enough attention to any particular fandom to do that. I wish I did, because I like to obsess, but I just feel out of the loop.
And I'm not really as pretentious as I get in this journal, either. Just so you know. I'm cooooool.
I had some "retail therapy", as Annie Lamott calls it, after I found out I was fired -- I went to Chapters and bought the big fat Arden Shakespeare edition of Hamlet, and Harold Bloom's Hamlet: Poem Unlimited, which is awesome if you're a Bardolator like me. The NAC production I saw here last year with Tom Rooney was absolutely perfect: Laertes a bit too greasy, and Ophelia a little too slick, but otherwise ideal. (I can't stand a bad Laertes -- I always have a soft spot for the minor character who seems to have a story but never really gets the spotlight, which I suppose is the fanficcer in me. I wrote a poem about Laertes in high school, actually.)
On my last day at work, I happened to spot Father Gilles at Human Resources: not French, but a grey-haired Irish gentleman who consoled me about my firing. It was his cubicle that I liked, though -- he had a picture of St. Francis cut from a magazine tacked up with a badge from the Pope's visit to Canada, and the desk was a warzone. It was almost exactly how I imagined Father Gilles's office to be. I love when I meet people in real life who remind me of my characters. I saw Joel once riding a bike across campus at Queen's, an older Joel more confident in himself.
I always wish I had more entertaining stuff to put in this journal, besides announcements and these random blatherings. I'd like to write pungent editorials on fannish things, but I don't really pay enough attention to any particular fandom to do that. I wish I did, because I like to obsess, but I just feel out of the loop.
And I'm not really as pretentious as I get in this journal, either. Just so you know. I'm cooooool.