wishfulaces: (jeremy)
Oh! So, based on somebody's recommendation--it might have been NPR (I read a lot of NPR at work when I need a 60-second brain break, rather than listening to it on the radio, because I continue to have no auditory concentration ability at all), it might have been a RL friend, it might have been one of y'all--we've started watching Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries on Netflix, these glorious mysteries set in 1920s Australia about a young woman whose sister went missing and who now makes it her business to get into everybody else's business. I've started making a game out of identifying who will be her new lover in each episode, her outfits are always gorgeous, and she is so unapologetically, unabashedly determined to make sure things are done right--and so unapologetically, unabashedly disinterested in judging other people and how they live their lives--that the show is a real delight to watch. We're only 5 episodes in, which makes me happy, because it means there's still a couple dozen episodes to go.

Okay, it's a little ridiculous how much I adore period mystery drama. Or even modern mystery drama, come to that. I've also been working my way through the Enchanted Chocolate Pot books (for lack of a better unifying title for the trilogy?) by Patricia C. Wrede and Caroline Stevermer and I'm pretty sure there's at least one or two new episodes of Castle and Forever we haven't seen yet. w00t. GIVE ME ALL THE MYSTERIES. Ahem.
wishfulaces: (dance)
...and I am totally unprepared for it.

So, here, have random White Collar gag reel. (I wanted to mention it weeks ago and forgot.)

Seriously, EPIC gag reel, and you have to watch to the end.

And since we're on the topic of White Collar, [livejournal.com profile] sam_storyteller pointed out this video from ComicCon:

Read more... )
wishfulaces: (yellow roses)
Okay. I'm just going to say this because it is worth noting. I have been happy since, um, mid-March or so, I think. Not just okay, or fine, or even good, but happy. Like, dance-around-work-when-no-one-is-looking-and-grin-for-no-good-reason happy. I have crappy days, I want to cry for all the shit things we do to ourselves and to each other but, on the whole, I am happy.

It's strange, and wonderful, and I kinda want to cling to it forever and bottle it and give it away to everybody I meet because it's worth so much more than selling. I'm not even trying to fight the giddiness.

So, flist, have some happy. *hugs and snogs you all*


I have started reading the Nero Wolfe books finally. My mother's voice is in my ear, as always, saying she didn't like them because Archie is no Donald Lam. And no, he isn't, but he drinks milk, which I find ridiculously charming--Archie is also very definitely no Nick Charles--and I can hear Timothy Hutton saying his lines, and he and Wolfe live in each other's pockets and I always love that in fictional characters, even though I know if anybody lived in my pocket I would probably beat them with an ice scraper like I almost did that stupid bug that got stuck in my car this morning and would NOT GO BACK OUT THE WINDOW because it apparently thought it could fly through the windshield. But I digress. Slightly. I'm only halfway through the first book still, but I am glad to have a new-old author to read. (And one of these days, I have to finish the Donald Lam books too.)
wishfulaces: (federal agents)
Secret message to [livejournal.com profile] katie_m: thank you for the bear hug! It is much appreciated!

I succumbed this weekend and bought a coffee grinder. In all honesty I succumbed because I'd already accidentally bought a bag of coffee beans and, rather than sucking up the cost of that, I decided to spend even more money and buy another oddly-shaped kitchen utensil that I shall probably in all likelihood have to pack up in six months or less.

Yes, this is the way my mind operates. It functions on the expectation that I shall be moving soon. I purposefully did not get a washer & dryer when I moved here because I knew it would be a bitch to get up and down the basement stairs. (I also purposefully got a place with a finished basement so that I would have STORAGE SPACE for all those boxes I've been lugging around for, um, more than four years in some cases.)

That is all beside the point, however. I bought a coffee grinder. I shall have to wait and see if I notice a marked difference in the quality of my coffee or not.

Today at work we were all box monkeys. We lugged about 800 cubic feet out of the stacks onto pallets to be shredded. That wasn't even everything that needed to go. Oh, and that 800 cubic feet? Probably about half of it was from one series that I requested be deaccessioned and got Records Board approval to change the retention schedule. (All of it was from our project.) We WILL make room in the archives for new material! \o/

And then everybody and their uncle decided to bring Valentine's Day treats today, so all that heavy lifting I did was promptly counteracted by the chocolate I imbibed. Awesome.

In conclusion:

Before there were Sam and Dean Winchester )
wishfulaces: (sneaky devil)
Stuff and Things I Can Accomplish When Given an Extra 2 Hours (because the governor is apparently easily persuaded to give state employees time off for inclemental weather):

* putting away dishes
* putting away laundry
* sending off job applications
* uploading old, old fics on AO3 (if the blasted server will cooperate...)
* actually talking on the phone to an old friend (gasp, shock, amazement)

If this level of productivity continues into this weekend (or if the governor gives us a snow day tomorrow! *crosses fingers*), I might even get work accomplished on those grad school apps, and reading that book for the task force I'm on. Or it could all crash and burn if I turn lazy. Woo.

I've been watching the second season of Simon and Simon, stolen with her permission from my mother when I was home visiting. It's so gloriously, horribly 1980s. I love it.
wishfulaces: (socially awkward)
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So many choices! I could go with Barney Miller, he'd be very understanding and compassionate. Dalziel & Pascoe would be alternately witty and crass but they'd have my back (if they thought I deserved it, anyway). Emerson and Ned and Chuck would sort it all out, and I'd probably get pie. But I think I want to go with Albert Campion. After all, he's a universal uncle. I've always liked uncles.


I was just reading Dr. Seuss poetry. Which may or may not explain why I wrote the above paragraph the way I did. (At least it involved no rhymes?)


I spent today up to my eyeballs in microfilm. My eyeballs hurt.

I'm still getting used to the cubicle thing. I see out of the corner of my eye people walking past and get easily distracted. One of my co-workers sort of glides exactly the way a character from an animated Monty Python sketch would. (As if my headspace weren't surreal enough.)


I like to use my bookstore receipts for bookmarks. They're a handy way to remember where I was when I got a book, a way to ground me--Ohio when I found that Doctor Who novel, Colorado when I picked up that book on architecture with a gift card. My mom uses anything she has at hand and leaves it in the book for the next person to stumble across--I've found appointment reminder cards from the dentist or eye doctor, a note from my brother, a hall pass I had my senior year of high school because I was in NHS, even a picture of me from a play in high school. (I swiped that one; it's hanging on my wall now.) It's a bit like finding signatures or notes from people when browsing at used bookstores, glimpses of whole other lives that have been lived.


April may or may not kill me. It's my fault for scheduling so many things, but April may very well kill me. And if it doesn't, May and June come close behind...


wishfulaces: (Default)

September 2015

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