Life is mostly good.
Though the hands and the knees fail me, my feminine charms are NOT DEAD. This will be a great relief to all those who thought that these charms were A) non existent B) dead or C) shut off and unable to be restarted.
Ah, but I still have somebody looking at me, and while most girls would be unhappy to be ogled in the way that I have been today, I’m positively gleeful. For There Is HOPE!
Today wasn’t an easy day by any means. There was lots to do and not one bit of my theory paper was finished today, but it’s now due Tuesday so I have a bit more time to work on it. Good thing, too-I’m going to need that time.
I have one class and one shift at work tomorrow and then ATLANTIS! Joyousness and happy am I! For tomorrow Sheppard will get ANOTHER woman after a year of being lonely. He’s such a player. In four years, he has outstripped Jack O’Neill in having ladies-and Jack was around TWICE as long as he has been. He keeps going at this astounding pace and he’ll even outshine Kirk from Trek. And then who will we compare him to? Dr. Who?
I do realize that guys in real life aren’t like this. I mean, if they were we’d all be worshipping at their feet and batting our eyelashes (eygh). But I like having someone paying me a bit of attention-I get passed over for other people so often, either cause I’m loud (yeah), clumsy (uh-huh), and MAYBE, maybe just a tad weird. I mean, I just spent an hour breaking down a scene in which I, unfortunately, had to weaken the female character in order to get her back to sanity, and I know galdarn well that this little incident is going to get the feminists hounding me for weakening the woman in the story.
Never mind the fact that she kicked my MALE character around the training yard in one of her first scenes. Never mind that she saved his life repeatedly. I had to put her in the position I did because I wanted her to have her weak moment, too, just like Tiernan did earlier in the book. I had to bring her to the brink of death to bring her back into the story.
They’ll still rip me. I just plain don’t care that much. Writers are supposed to offend SOMEBODY, anyway. It’s in our natures.
Meanwhile, the Muse love goes on. There are other people on campus who are fans, too, and now I’m meeting some of them. It’s nice to have those who understand WHY we like a dark-haired short guy who screams and wails with a guitar AND a piano. His drummer is a smiling, slightly insane man who hits things all day long (surprisingly calm. Betcha the aggression goes away when you’re hitting things) and his bassist can keep up with him, which is more than I can say for ME. There are some seriously whacked out drum beats that I seriously CANNOT understand. And the guitars just adds to the confusion. I don't know what kind of wonderful technical doodads are on those guitars he uses (little light-up scratch pad things,) but what the hey.
Never mind they’re all geniuses at whatever the hell they’re trying to do. It SOUNDS good to ME.
I bet Matt Bellamy wails like a banshee on the next album and I fall all over myself in happy ecstasy. It’s that kind of band.
Wow, is this sucker long. I should probably wrap this up now and talk more tomorrow when my fingers aren't yelling at me for typing four pages of stuff tonight. Bad little me.
Cheers,
Bec
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