wishfulaces: (blessed)
This evening, mourning over the new shitty turn my career has taken and wondering what I could do instead, after drinking a delicious and slightly alcoholic minty Oreo shake:

"I could open a bakery. Make blueberry muffins all day long. ...that's a shitty business plan. No! All you get are blueberry muffins! If you want anything else, go somewhere else. No chocolate muffins for you!"

For some reason, this was hysterical to me. It might have been the delicious and slightly alcoholic minty Oreo shake talking.

Later this same evening, taking the masking tape to the couch to remove all the orange fur from the cat:

"Honey, you are a sheddy, sheddy cat."

The boy said we're lucky to have each other.
wishfulaces: (ot3!)
So the week of Vividcon in Chicago, I'm in San Diego (y'know, weeks after ComicCon). Life, eh?

But I'm here for a conference, and considering I've been cramming for a workshop I'm taking tomorrow I am entirely justified in taking Tuesday off to sightsee and hang out and learn my way around this city. I've walked a little bit of the area around my hotel and will definitely need to do more, but on a day when I've not been up since oh god-thirty and gotten more than five hours sleep and aren't shaking from too much travel.

(September. I'm holding out for September, the month in which I will NOT get on a plane and NOT go to a city further than 90 minutes away by car. That is my plan for September and probably October. It sounds glorious right now, which is an indication that I have done way, way too much traveling this spring & summer.)

But doing my readings for tomorrow's workshop, it reminded me how I secretly kinda maybe want to do forensic science instead of this public history gig. (You would be surprised how much of the theory crosses over, really, starting with chain of custody and ending with authenticity and trust.)

Also, I want to talk about this book on bisexuality I just finished reading. )

Um, I didn't quite expect to write that tonight. Oops? But hey, I got my reading done for tomorrow, I know where I'm going tomorrow morning, and I've had dinner and a shower. Life is good.
wishfulaces: (all the world's a stage)
This is just fun. (100 years of fashion in East London...in 100 seconds.)

I still follow museum blogs, even though I'm no longer in the museum world and don't know if I'll ever get to go back into it. This post from Nina Simon's museum 2.0 blog is pretty intriguing ([livejournal.com profile] cofax7, you should totally check it out!)

(The post is about getting people involved and engaged in art--well, more than that, but you can read the post to get the full effect--and I've been thinking about my own changing relationship to art, or "Art," and how it is becoming more of a habit, an ingrained thing that I notice more in the every day world around me, the more time I spend going to art museums and hanging out with artistic people. And really, I'm glad of that. Someday, I'm going to have to get around to taking an art history course. In the meantime, I'll keep going to random art museums and hanging out with artistic people.)

And because 3 links totally make a post, Doctor Who femslash ficathon sign-ups are open. Yay!
wishfulaces: (yellow roses)
My friends are getting married in the morning
wedding bells are going to chime


Okay, so the rhythm is off, and they're not actually getting married till Saturday, but I'm driving east tomorrow after work for a three-day weekend, and I've got a dress packed and three pairs of sandals (and not a pair of socks to be seen, so NO RAIN, but actually, okay, go ahead if you have to and rain, Mother Nature; we need the moisture), and OMFG MY FRIENDS ARE GETTING MARRIED ON SATURDAY.

Vicarious giddiness can be good too.

Speaking of musicals, this morning my minion and I--I call her my minion now because it's more fun to say than senior administrative assistant--we were the first people into the stacks, so we had to turn on the lights, and she was all, "Good morning, boxes!" in a sunny tone, so of course I leapt to "Good mornin' / good mornin' / it's great to stay up late," which of course led to the discussion about every 1950s MGM musical having the freaky dance sequences in the middle. And a tap dance on her part, but hey, it's a good way to start the morning.

One of these days, I will post about fannish things. Like my rewatch of the first two seasons of Warehouse 13 (hell, I'll just post fic, if I ever get around to having time to write it), or the epic love I'd have for Leverage if I had time to pay attention and watch it, or what I think of the whole White Collar summer finale. One of these days. It'll be good. Yeah. But for now, I HAVE A WEDDING TO GO TO THIS WEEKEND. (I'll come back to tons of new vids from VVC though, won't I? Yay.)
wishfulaces: (crack)
Who drafted 17 retention schedule series in 90 minutes this afternoon?

I did, I did!

(Who the hell else would want to?

...

*crickets chirp*

...yeah, that's what I thought. I made a records management joke this evening, but I was in the car by myself, so at least nobody else was subjected to it. [I couldn't help it, though; I was driving past this new barnlike, warehouse-like day care monstrosity, and I thought, "Where you too can deposit your child for 8 hours a day for a nominal fee!*"])

I have not been sleeping well this week, despite being exhausted, because my brain won't shut up about work. I spent the past 6 months winding a project down, with very finite tasks that were completed each day; I have apparently forgotten how to handle actually being busy at work. And now I have a choir board retreat at oh-god-it's-too-early-for-Saturday o'clock tomorrow morning, so if I am not dead to the world before midnight and do not remain so until near eight, I shall be very annoyed with myself.

In the meantime, it's the SG-1 ep with the space corn on, and I just finished watching yet another second season ep of Castle because apparently I cannot get enough of the show. GOOD TIMES.


* Extra fees incurred whenever dropping off, picking up, or requesting to see your child. You see why my mind is a sick, sick place? I used to make Woodrow Wilson jokes, now I've moved on to RM jokes. HELP.

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