silveryscrape (silveryscrape) wrote,

Guacamole! I do go on.

Hellooo. I always feel like I have to travel a long way to get here from my other life. Last night I just couldn't make that long-distance jump from the hospital to the internets when I got home, so I ended up watching something about battleship graveyards and something else about this kid with two heads, and then I watched some opera and a smidgeon of Miami Inked and the original Pink Panther movie, which was not nearly as funny as I remembered, although the 60's fashions were divine. And I watched a Jerry Lewis movie, the Bellhop, which was stupid and coy in the way 60's comedies are, but in one brilliant scene Jerry Lewis played himself, a celebrity who descended upon this hotel in Miami Beach with a huge entourage. There was a giant motorcade with a police escort, and a limo from which emerged 47 people, that old gag, and finally Jerry Lewis himself climbed out, and they surrounded him and pushed him and shoved him, until he yelled, "HOLD IT" and asked them who they all were. It was lovely. And then I went to bed and dreamed of pasta salad, and when I woke up I was ballroom dancing with Kenny Chesny, I swear to god. I have no idea what that was about.

Other than that, I just have some snippets:

1. Are people really bemoaning the fact that they only have 500 words or 1000 words or anything at all written on their sesa stories? Oh, my god. Perhaps I'd better get started. I did ask off for the six days before the stories are due, though, because YES. I know me, and whatever I write now is going to seem like the lamest drivel ever in the heat of the deadline, and I'll have to write an entirely new story at the last minute, in a panic. I'm kind of looking forward to it, actually. Writing under pressure is angst-ridden, but fun rewarding.

2. I miss the JC who was curly-headed and silly and seemed happy and whose bracelets chinged when he talked. The way he is now, all severe-haired and muted clothing, it's like someone told him to grow up and be a man, and the thought of that just sucks. Now more than ever before I hope I'm reading that in the absence of any reality check at all, as one does in fandom, because I really hate the idea of JC not happy. Like, to an alarming extent. But, ah. I don't know where that came from. Perhaps Kenny Chesny whispered something in my ear.

3. My dad, the black hole man, around whom the laws of the universe bend to suit his unique perspective, suddenly left me a flurry of messages the other day, the gist of which was You must make the effort to keep in touch with me, because we are family. I know it's hard, but you must. I'm just, what? We don't talk for months or even years, and when we do it's invariably because I reach out to him, and now suddenly his voice is shaking and it's immanent, or something. I know in dad-speak when he admonishes me it's really himself he's talking to, but god, I just don't have the energy. The Collinses are such drama queens. The fun part is that I'll call my sister up and say Dad in a significant and petulant way, and she'll immediately laugh. Drama is much more fun when you have an ally.

4. I, erm. Seem to have an appointment to meet these folks next week, to interview them about the strange stuff going on in their house, the sounds and lights and appliances turning on and off unaided, stuff like that. Ahahahaha! It's research. Shut up. They're really freaked out, and I am just plain fascinated, although I swear to god, if anything ghostly happens while I'm there, anything at all, I will jump a mile and screech and run out of the house. Clearly, I feel about ghosts the way I feel about celebrities, that strange otherness that fascinates and terrifies me. Ahaha.

5. Tell me... all about yourselves. Oh, I'm supposed to cut and paste the template. Okay, nevermind, just tell me who your best friends are, because that's the awkwardest part and I love that shit. And tell me something you hate, but not necessarily about them. Or else, you know, tell me your favorite color, and how much of a dork you were in high school... oh, lordy. I suck at these meme things. Nevermind.

6. Bye, April. I'll miss you.

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