wishfulaces: (Default)
I moved in with the boy almost two years ago, and he already had a roommate at that time. This weekend, the roommate has vacated to her girlfriend's house (with all 3 of her cats), the boy is at a conference, and I HAVE THE HOUSE TO MYSELF. Myself and the cat that I'm responsible for because she's my mom's only my mom can't really take care of her anymore and it's totally cool because I have my couch and she has her loveseat and everyone's happy. Other than I should scritch her ears more, but she thinks I should scritch her ears 24/7.

I don't quite know where to begin. What music shall I blast? what tv show or chick flick shall I watch? What food shall I eat? How shall I tidy the house? How much of the bed can I in fact sprawl on all at once?

On the other hand, I haven't been this properly alone for this long in almost two years--because I'm pretty sure I'm going to have the house to myself all week, unless roommate actually decides to bring her cats back that quickly or the boy has to leave his conference suddenly and early--and OMG WHAT IF THE ZOMBIES FIND ME AND KILL ME. Or the toilet breaks. That's probably more likely to happen. WHAT DO I DO THEN.

I told the boy I was watching Doctor Who and Castle this week with or without him. He retaliated by buying the entire season of DW on Google Play. Whatever, man, I HAVE NEW WHO TOMORROW. And a couch all to myself. With sea salt dark chocolate caramels and chicken salsa verde BECAUSE I CAN. I am going totally going to live up alone time while it lasts.
wishfulaces: (jeremy)
The Official: Embrace the horror, you work for the state now.

That line means *so* much more to me now than it did 15 years ago.

I decided a rewatch of Invisible Man was in order. It's making me happy.

Also, 64 DAYS TILL WEDDING OH SHIT BEARS. Other people apparently get joy out of these countdowns. I take a kind of masochistic glee out of checking on that number. I think I would rather invite all of you than half my family to come to the party. No, that's a lie, I think I'd just like to have two parties, one with family and one with all of you. My family's had a lot of funerals lately, they need to have a happy reason to come together and celebrate. But dammit, I would totally dig a geeky party of happiness. (Maybe we *will* figure out how to have ourselves a TARDIS wedding cake. MAYBE.)
wishfulaces: (Default)
So last month my mom and I, randomly, wrote a fairy tale. Via texts. Y'know, a sentence or two at a time, back and forth.

I cleaned it up a bit for typos, auto correct shenanigans, and my mom's inability to find the quotes on her phone )

My Auntie Ethel died yesterday. This grief is strange to me--she's been fading away for years now, mentally, to the point the past few times I've seen her I'm not always sure she remembers who I am, only that she knows and likes me; my mom today said she's been missing her sister for years, and it's true. (We used to have such conversations--she was the best aunt for a precocious pre-teen, who would sit and listen and engage; I could still talk to her about what I was studying up until grad school.) And after the wrench that was my dad last year, after the pain and duty that came after his passing, this is...strangely light. I can grieve without having to worry about who will look after mom and how the hell do I administer an estate and who will take care of the cat. I can just be sad.
wishfulaces: (crack)
okay, no, seriously, CASTLE )

To sum up: Age of the geek, baby, age of the geek.


I did not sign up for Yuletide this year. Considering the way this week is going, that is really for the best from the view of stress levels (work is going to kill me, I'm going on another plane with my mother this weekend and maybe I should have gotten sedatives instead of her, an incident in the choir for which I'm on the board has left me feeling ill for many weeks now, and for the first time in my ever-loving life I am having to choose what the hell to do about stupid holidays this year), but still. Woe. I'm not doing Yuletide this year.
wishfulaces: (CHOCOLATE)
Okay, here's the thing: I really enjoy baking. I enjoy cooking, but I think I get a little extra edge of satisfaction out of baking.

There's the fact that most things I bake last longer than most things I cook (I've got two loaves of a ridiculously healthy quickbread baking right now), so the satisfaction lasts longer. Both can involve about the same amount of work, with chopping and dicing and mashing and scraping and stirring; and both can involve about the same amount of mess (maaaaybe more on the baking side if I'm breaking out the electric mixer). There's a certain soothing quality to both, to standing around prepping things and waiting for them to cook (though it seems like cooking involves more periods of frantic bursts of activity, things needing to be added and stirred constantly and the rest).

But I think I enjoy baking a little more because I used to help my mom bake a lot more than I used to help her cook, and I still occasionally have to call her up and say "Can I do this?" or "What can I substitute for that?" It's one of my favorite things about going home at the holidays, knowing I'll get to bake while my mom supervises from the other side of the kitchen table. Or just sits and chats.
wishfulaces: (miracles and wonder)
Well over a year ago, my aunt got me an African violet. I managed to keep it blooming, so my aunt gave me two she'd received that had stopped blooming after the initial flowers. Now, about a year later, I've managed to get both those plants to bloom again. (My poor aunt took it with good grace when she saw the pictures.)

Speaking of pictures, have some. )
wishfulaces: (twins)
This weekend, sitting in Red Lobster with just a tiny portion of my extended family, my cousin K's girlfriend said, "I don't think I've been in a room with so many sarcastic people before," and we were all like, "This? You should see a proper family reunion," and sitting at that table that evening, with people I hadn't seen in a few years and only ever have seen every few years--this cemented why family is important to me. Because there is some throughline, some connection, deeper than constant and everyday contact; some pattern of behavior and thought and style that transcends and cuts through the morass to help us recognize each other. R. may still have no idea where I live or that my sister has left the Midwest; K. may not have known that we moved our aunt to assisted living; none of us may have known K. was dating or now a grandfather ye gods and little fishes, but we are still able to catch up and laugh and tease and be ourselves in some way that we can not with others.

So, despite the panic of taking my mother through airport security for the first time since 1995, despite going stir-crazy and feeling trapped in the hotel room yesterday afternoon when the elevator broke down and mom didn't feel comfortable leaving in case they couldn't fix it, despite my nephew being a typical ten-year-old boy yesterday and reminding me once again why I am so not ready to have kids, it was an excellent weekend.

Also, my brother has an adorable miniature poodle that charmed me so much it was all I could do not to put her in my luggage and take her home with me.
wishfulaces: (hobbit hands)
Last night my choir director was about to have us finish rehearsal by working on the "Estampie Natalis" piece, but then he said "Wait, I lied, we're not going to do that" (for the dozenth time at least during this rehearsal), and he stepped away from his music stand and leant against the pulpit--we rehearse in a church--and told us thank you for being in this choir, and thank you for helping this choir exist. Because it's a nonauditioned choir of mixed voices and talents and not every community has such a choir, and it's a time of year to think about such things for which we are thankful.

And so he had us mix again--tenors next to sopranos next to altos next to basses; we'd done a little of that earlier in the evening when struggling to stay in tune and on key--and we sang "The Gift" instead. And I had tears in my eyes because I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and because ten years ago this Thanksgiving my Uncle Buddy died, and this year has kinda been all about that mortality and grief and love that is such an essential part of life.

Back in June 2009, I wrote about things I love, and Thanksgiving that year I wrote about things for which I was grateful, and it all still holds true.

Tomorrow night I fly back to see my parents, who are still on dial-up, so happy turkey day, Americans; and happy week, everyone else; and thank you for being your awesome selves.
wishfulaces: (alas poor yorick)
I woke up around 10:30 this morning and it was brilliant.

Yeah, I've taken today off from everything and almost everybody--called various family members, chatted with a friend online--but it's been me, and my house, and dancing around putting away laundry, and later dancing around cooking, and I have needed this. A lot.

(Side note: I was walking to the grocery store this afternoon and somebody in my neighborhood has a plastic, silver-spray-painted looking tombstone in their front yard with, I kid you not, hearts and flowers and says "Your time will come.")

Doctor Who, the God Complex )
wishfulaces: (emerson says what)
I am tired! and cranky! and tired! and sick! and stressed out! and cranky! and did I mention tired!? And I griped at my mom all afternoon and evening, and she bought me a beautiful blown glass paperweight just because as a surprise from an art glass gallery I pointed out to her yesterday as we drove past, telling her I really needed to get in there sometime, and, just, yeah. I think I could have done today over and made it better.

Everything will be fine. And, in the grand scheme of things, the things stressing me out right now will have faded away by next week. Mostly.

I just need to keep reminding myself of that.
wishfulaces: (blessed)
I've been good about reading my flist, if not posting or, probably, writing many comments--life is terribly insane right now, and only about to get more insane. For which I am grateful, honestly, because the more awesome times I have, the more distracted-but-centered I will become. (Hopefully. Theoretically.)

Also, my mom's in town next week, which, really, who needs more than that? (Of course, she drives into town on Sunday. I'm not back until Monday night. Oy vey.)

And now I'm about to disappear into the ether--or the sky--again, so...I don't really know why I'm posting this. Other than to say--hi?
wishfulaces: (travel curse)
Things that annoy the hell out of me:

--Rental upgrades from a basic economy car to a Jeep SUV
--Having to drive said rental upgrades on the interstates of Chicago surrounded by idiots, and being an idiot myself
--specifically O'Hare International Airport
--Mother Nature
--humanity for fucking up Mother Nature
--the Midwest for having fucked-up weather generally anyway
--having to get up at 3:30 in the morning for a flight that was delayed till 8:45 anyway, after my original flight the night before being canceled, so that I spent about 24 hours with my parents this weekend.

Things that amuse me or make me happy:

--getting ice cream with my dad
--making fudge with my mom
--taking a walk with my dad
--going shopping with my mom
--the three of us actually sitting together in a restaurant at lunch having a conversation (mom doesn't normally do restaurants, she can't hear very well)
--just getting to spend time with my parents.

I'm glad I went home, even if it was a stupidly screwed-up weekend.


Y'all remember my Leverage fic "Life in the 21st Century"? [livejournal.com profile] bessyboo has turned it into a podfic, and you should totally go listen to it now. I listened to it in the middle seat on an airplane and tried very, very hard not to giggle out loud.

I think I had more to say. I'm sure it will come back to me later.
wishfulaces: (sundays)
This weekend I went to a conference (first panel: OMG the room is full of old white guys! WTF? By the second panel everything was better), hung out with a friend exploring a city sort of new to both of us--we wandered all over the place, mostly walking and enjoying the architecture and vibes, the weather was perfect, I drank no alcohol AT ALL, and I have my first sunburn of the year, it was so awesome--and then I spent this afternoon/early evening hanging out with my aunts and uncle. And I got home tonight just in time for the rain to start pouring.

In other words, one amazingly productive weekend, I have to say. And I am so ready to go to bed now.
wishfulaces: (fandom collision)
I am home. At some point, this place became home, and that was very confusing while I was home (with the parents) this weekend, because I kept talking about both places that way.

(I love driving past Chicago at night, by the way. I think it's my favorite view of Chicago, somewhere on I-90 going past the lit-up skyscrapers, all that light pollution thrown up to the sky. Hmmm.)

There was lots of pretty snow on the ground, and my mother and I had ridiculous amounts of glee cooking cornish hens, and my dad and I saw The Tourist, and while my parents still have dial-up they also perversely have digital cable so I was able in fact to watch the Doctor Who Christmas special onna tv on Christmas day and finally show off Matt Smith to my mother and explain to her my despair over accidentally discovering/confirming he is in fact 6 months younger than me ("he looks older," she said at the end of the show), and it was only two days but it was a really good two days to be home. Away from this other home. Whatever.

Also, I got two yuletide fics this year!

The Christmas Bet for yuletide, Castle, focusing on Ryan & Esposito, best background detective duo evah


A Mistress or a Friend, a yuletide madness goodie for me, Hannibal Sefton & Consuela from the Benjamin January novels by Barbara Hambly and OMG seriously, Hannibal Sefton is the best character since somebody Shakespearean. I sort of desperately want to write fic involving him & Julian Kestrel from the Kate Ross novels running into each other at a house party before Hannibal ran away from polite society, and then I smack myself up the head & remind myself how much I hate doing research to write.

More on the DW special )

Right, I'm going to wander off and eat a proper dinner with more substance than cereal, and possibly watch the first episode of dueSouth involving RayK, or Peter Davison as the Doctor. I am in need of comfort tonight, I think. Going/coming home is hard.
wishfulaces: (hobbit hands)
Since yesterday afternoon, leaving work an hour early, I have

--gotten a fabulous haircut
--painted my fingernails
--watched a bunch of catch-up telly
--written a rough draft for one fic (OMG you guys, your prompts are awesome, by the by, and it is so gleeful to be writing fic again for the first time in, um, some months)
--slept for ten hours
--made pancakes with blueberry sauce for breakfast (someday, I shall learn that I mostly fail at making blueberry sauce; it's a great disappointment to me)
--listened to crazy happy dancy music (it's hard to dance around a wooden spoon while stirring blueberry sauce, let me tell you, and yet I try to do to it every time)
--caught up on LJ while drinking CHAI

Still to do today, I have to

--bake a carrot cake
--mainline more telly in order to write more fic
--write more fic
--read more fic written by others, yay
--record lines in a gleefully crap German accent (it makes a change from a gleefully crap English accent?)
--take a BATH
--and do other fun, non-work-related, non-boring-life related things.
--oh, and wash dishes. Because washing dishes is perpetual.

I am totally digging so far four days of not going anywhere outside the boundaries of this county. I might be missing a ten-year high school reunion, I might have accidentally disappointed my aunt by not coming to her Thanksgiving (I warned her!), I might have disappointed a friend by not driving to Colorado to see her, I might have turned down an invitation to join a co-worker's and friend's Thanksgiving (at which I would have to be right about now, rather than lounging about in my sweats drinking CHAI), I might not be having turkey and pumpkin pie today, but I am thankful, oh so very thankful, for the time to decompress and be alone and catch up with myself.

I'm thankful for family and friends too, and I'm thankful that I'm taking this weekend to be alone because I've been traveling about and running around visiting with many of them for the past few months, and I'm thankful that I've had the opportunity to do all the traveling and running about.

so Happy Turkey Day, Americans, and happy Thursday, everyone else on my flist, and quite massive bear hugs to you all.
wishfulaces: (squee!)
If you've ever felt like Mary Tyler Moore throwing her hat up into the air--or, wait, was that in fact Marla Thomas? Crap, I fail at 1970s sitcoms--then you might want to go see Morning Glory. Bits of it sort of fail to hang together, but it's happy. And we all left the theater feeling happy, and that's nice. (And our co-worker's sister actually had lines! So we got to cheer for that, not just for seeing her onscreen for 11.5 seconds.)

I am taking the novel position, one I haven't taken since 2006, and am staying home alone for Thanksgiving. I'm not going to my aunt's family's in MO, not visiting friends in CO, not getting my parents to come, nothing. I am taking the four day weekend to clean house, and read fic, and watch telly, and read for work, and clean more house, and bake, and maybe go for a drive in the country if it's not too icy. I want to sleep, and be quiet, and not do a whole lot. It will make a marvelous change from the past, uh, going-on-six-months-now. I am really quite ridiculously looking forward to it, even though I have this sneaking sense of guilt for not joining family or friends the way I *should* on a holiday like this.
wishfulaces: (CHOCOLATE)
Mediocre Fred, by the Smothers Brothers. I would tell you what happens in the song, but that would be a spoiler. Let us just say, it's entirely appropriate for the month involving Halloween.

I bought a t-shirt the other day. "History buff," it says, "I'd be more interested in you if you were dead."

And yesterday I visited aunts, and I think every single idiot was out on the road. (Obviously, since I was out there, hnar hnar.) At one point on the interstate, two cars were attempting to exist in the same space. IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT, GUYS. (They figured it out, pretty quickly, and there were no accidents. I was still glad to be in the far left lane at that point, as far away from them as I could get.)
wishfulaces: (Guildenstern)
Two Lumps webcomic from Friday, in which the latest LJ debacle with FB/Twitter rears its ugly head. HA.

I feel like I should have something profound, or at least nonsensical, to say. And I don't. I'm gonna go watch telly now. Or maybe get food. How's that for profound. (Good thing about mom visiting: LEFTOVERS.)
wishfulaces: (miracles and wonder)
xkcd today, and having driven the Kansas-Colorado border one too many times, I would believe it.

I've started rewatching Eleven's series of Doctor Who. I'm not quite sure what possessed me to do so other than I wanted something comforting and I'd run out of the first season of due South and my mom hadn't shown up with the second yet. So, yes, now I have to finish Eleven before I can start dS. My life is so hard.

There was stuff and things I wanted to say, and now I appear to have forgotten all of them, and I'm expecting my mom back at any moment. So, um, have some fic recs instead: Objects in Space (Doctor Who, Amy/River) was written for me by [livejournal.com profile] doyle_sb4 for the [livejournal.com profile] dw_femslash ficathon and is brilliant and fun as one would expect, and [livejournal.com profile] severa recently wrote Never Known a Girl Like You, fabulous cross-dressing Sherlock fic. (Seriously, if that doesn't grab you, I don't know what will.)

I made strawberry shortcake for my mom, aunts, and uncle yesterday. Or, well, I bought Sara Lee poundcake and whipped cream, and then I sugared strawberries with Splenda (my life is still so hard), and it's been so long since I had strawberry shortcake because of the whole allergy-to-strawberries thing, and YUM. I still have leftovers for mom and I to finish off, yay. And last night somebody was shooting off fireworks while we sat out on the front stoop, and it was almost kinda like having my own personal 4th of July, since I missed the fireworks then.
wishfulaces: (fly)
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I no longer associate with either of my birth names. And really, I had two of them, the name on my birth certificate & the nickname I went by full-time for the first 18 years of my life. But then I decided to change my life in college by changing my name, and, yeah, that kinda backfired on me.

Also, I really don't like my last name. No offense to my dad, but hardly anybody ever pronounces it right, and it's a silly, silly name.

If I were a mystery writer, I'd go by my mother's maiden name and my first two initials. M.D. Wilson. But as for choosing a new first name? Well, I haven't gone by my middle name yet...


Misha Collins isn't a figment of the Internet, he's a figment of Twitter. I am almost, ALMOST tempted to figure out Twitter just so I can follow him. Because I honestly don't have enough surreality in my life.


wishfulaces: (Default)

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