1. I had a good day at work yesterday. Weird. The other nurse and I kept looking at each other like we were in a classic episode of MASH: "Did you hear that?" "What?" "Nothing!" "Omg." You know, how the noise of the artillery dies away and they can all stop hurling themselves bodily over the patients on the guerneys, to protect the open wounds from falling plaster, but you can see they're always waiting for the next attack, and silence is kind of wonderful and nervewracking at the same time, and... um. I love my job! Can you tell?
2. Two separate and distinct individuals flirted with me yesterday, and it filled me with astonishment. Not because they flirted, because hi. *preens, trips, falls off 1/2" kitten heels* Because I noticed. I never notice! It's a policy! A subconscious one, and one that often fills me with tch and frustrated dismay, but I developed this coping mechanism a long time ago and it has served me well. There's a reason, yo! Is much easier that way! Now I'm faced with the possibility that my heart is waking up again, and I'm kind of impatient with that whole idea, because not only does that mean I have to, like, feel stuff again, which is a pain (HAHAHAHAHAshit), but also I'm pretty sure I no longer have game of any kind. Most troubling. How does one respond? A wink? The full body grab and throwdown? I must study this further. From a distance.
3. This is hilarious, and also, ha! Pretty much what I experienced in grad school. We practiced our credentials, you know, recited them to one another at parties, because why else would anyone listen to you, if you didn't have credentials? Without credentials, you were just another freshman talking about the biblical imagery in the Lord of the Rings. *glazes over* But when I went to school, back in the year 2, the cool thing was to have participated in 9 million little grassroots writers' co-ops and political collectives, so you weren't participating in dominant regimes, like the pedagogical institution that paid us $500 a month to TA but didn't want us to have any other jobs at the same time, meow. Lord. How I sometimes but don't really miss those days at all. Well. I miss talking about writing, hee! But sometimes we forgot to do that.
4. I totally missed pimping this out at the time, because I was wandering soulless and happy in the house of mouse, but y'all! silky_like_a, check it out. Ryan thinks that he's exactly JC's type, is what got the party started, and I haven't even read the stories this one spawned, the stories on the community, but now I'm going to, and whee! And also, aww. Poor Ryan. JC's everything he wants and wants to be. Is most sad and delicious.
5. Mulder thinks this, in Lovers: The transition from being the apple of Behavioral Science's eye to becoming the Bureau's black hidden-in-the-basement sheep had changed people's attitude towards him, but it hadn't changed him much, and sometimes he wondered why no one seemed to see that.
I love this story, so much. Love it more than Ghosts, even, which I think most people prefer, but Lovers is so rich, so filled with feelings and sensations and Mulder waking up, and I swear I always feel like I can smell the dusty eucalyptus of the airport in San Francisco when I read this, although I'm not sure what eucalyptus smells like. It's just, Mulder opened his eyes in Ghosts, came reluctantly aware, but in this story he moves toward that freaky whirling part of himself, and shush! No comparisons with my #2 above.
But he's still so Mulder about it all, brilliant and crazy and suspicious like a cat, and it's statements like the one above that make me just hug myself, because torch gets Mulder so well. He really thinks he's just him, and he can't figure out why that's not enough! Oh, Mulder. You'll always be that boy staring into the bright light, wondering and afraid. I love you so.
6. Remix. *sigh* Guess I better run. Adios.