icarusancalion

Things that I do and I don't want to admit:

I didn't want to download Amazon's Cloud Player. I updated to iTunes latest version (what a mistake that was) and ended up with, unasked, their cloud. It's seeded with disconcerting songs I don't want. (But I do readily admit the Doctor Horrible songs were a smart call.)

Then I found Amazon had all the music I'd ever bought from them.

Including music I lost to my ex, WG.

Oh.

Sheepishly I downloaded it, even after being slightly obnoxious to the Amazon chat-rep, "What do you mean I have to download the cloud player when my download yesterday didn't work, I don't want the cloud player, why, iTunes' cloud is irritating, gimme my ninety-nine cent refund" -- oops, the song I'm trying to buy is there already, like you said. Oh, I'm sooo not confessing this.

Then I discovered the music is Tangerine Dream I bought for WG.

A pang of loss startled me. Combined with something I never admitted to WG: relief. I was never fond of his Tangerine Dream. They're okay. Just ... boring.

What I also don't want to admit: I like them better now than I did when I pretended to like them.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'll find my dresses in one of the boxes, buried under some books.

I should never have listened to WG.

I was supposed to go to Seattle September 9th. I had the tickets and it was all set. We were going to go through all our things together and split them up. Take things to Goodwill. I was going to help him move. I was going to take him to his oral surgery appointment. I was going to put together furniture for him in his new apartment. I was going to spend some time with Monte kitty to say goodbye.

He called me and asked me not to come. He'd send me my things.

Why did I trust him?

Oh. Joy. WG received a letter that his insurance claim has been refused. The insurance company insists that he has to file with L&I.

WG's been pacing and worried all day. There has been no other topic of conversation today.

He spoke with the union trust people immediately. They were surprised at his company's insistance that you have to report injuries for L&I within a 72-hour window. The woman there said, "I had some pain in my hand that I ignored at first but it kept getting worse. I was able to report it to L&I."

Now WG has to file an L&I claim after the fact. He's going in to the shipyard to talk to human resources tomorrow.

Meanwhile, the head of my work, the tutor program, has called a meeting for 10:30 tomorrow. This will be our first ever meeting.

I have a feeling I know what it's about. I was reviewing the applications for next year's tutors this week. Today I was told to put that on hold. We won't be hiring new tutors for next year.

Yesterday, I read that economic indicators had improved. Companies were restocking their inventories. First quarter profits were better than expected. It is time for the economy to turn around, please.

I credit all your good wishes: WG's limp is improving. My grades are not as bad as I feared. You must share your power of good wishes with the rest of the world, since clearly you could end both the Iraq and Afghanistan wars.

WG will learn the results of his CT and bone scans tomorrow.

I failed the Sanskrit final spectacularly, but based on the numbers here I must have been running close to a 3.8 - 3.9 before WG's injuries, so I'm saved from failing the class. I need to study those missed chapters this week or I'll be in trouble next quarter. Expect some Sanskrit posts this weekend.

My Greek History professor indeed graded harshly. I'm considering whether it's worth contesting the grade.

Who watches the Watchmen? We do!

Went to see Watchmen with WG tonight. We had our usual petty squabble on the way there. WG's a backseat driver which is why I make him my chauffeur. But it's not wise to have him drive with a walking cast. I ended up running red light after he insisted I'd missed the turn into the theater --

WG: Honey, honey! It's right there to the left, to the left--!
Icarus (baffled, looking around): What? What? It can't be, it's not--
(Vroom.)
Icarus: Driving with you sucks. Also, that traffic would have hit you first.

He was very conciliatory (he hates backseat drivers). I ruefully admitted I'd written down the address for the wrong theatre. We circled the block until we found it.

( The Neptune in the U-District is old fashioned theatre, built 80 years ago, ) There were exactly three people in the theater so we... sat in the same row with them, thus proving humans are social creatures. Someone should do a doctoral study.

WG is Nite Owl. ( That was my guy up there.  )

Needless to say, I loved the movie (for other reasons as well). As a side note, we both enjoyed the tasteful frontal nudity. Good to see a movie that has just as much (or more) male nudity as female. Reading reviews from you guys, I noticed that most of the people who hated the movie hadn't read the comic, while most of those who loved the movie had. So I made sure we'd both read it first. ( In case I blunder into spoilers. ) It's visually stunning, but what made it were the actors. The actors were so well cast -- and this story is about the characters. Cast the right actors and you have 90% of it right there.

WG wants to see it again on DVD, so he can pause the opening montage and study the background details.

Afterward, he made a wistful comment about ice cream, so we hunted down an ice cream shop for sundaes and sat in the shop like 1950s teenagers. I'd brought my notebook and jotted down a scene for Out Of Bounds that hit me in there. After this post, I'm off to write it. *g*

( If you want to shoplift, carry Sanskrit books. )

Now WG wants to do another date tomorrow night, this time an art film at the Varsity. Ah, old theatres. Such a different experience from the modern multiplexes.

WG: It's amazing how much fizz is in 7-Up.
Icarus: Hmm?
WG: I poured this a minute ago, and the fizz is going about three inches above the cup.
Icarus: It's the simple things in life....
WG: I'm not bored.

This weekend WG and I were discussing angling a future 5' cabinet diagonally across the corner of the living room. It's going to be right by Monte's 5' "command post." We both knew Monte would hop from the command post to the cabinet.

"I dunno, honey. Won't Monte fall back there?" WG frowned.

"No," said I. "Cats have good balance."

Just then Monte attempted a vertical leap from the floor to the table, missed, and fell.

Point taken.

Happy birthday to me... happy birthday to me....

WG has a pressie for me -- the flu!

I'm staying home, drinking juice, and hoping I can cut this off at the pass. But somehow I'm perfectly happy. I guess that's because WG's home too. And even though he's sick, he's here. And that makes me purr.

Ooo! Time to get him more hot tea.

Happy birthday to me... happy birthday to me....

90 degrees and rising in our apartment and the virtually-new fan opted to die.

The boyfriend and I did the usual snarking about "it's a piece of crap" and "don't make 'em like they used to" and hit the stores to buy another. Apparently they've been flying off the shelves (unsurprisingly) this week, and all that was available... was this same model fan. Which no one wants.

WG went to REI to beat the heat. I have the drapes drawn, windows and doors open to beat the heat.

I decided to do a dead fan autopsy, bring out my inner McKay. Hey, it could be something obvious, right? Hmm. Like that wad of long WG-hair wrapped around the main shaft, uh, I bet....

... Eureka! Behold! The fan lives!

We Americans, we give up too easily. We are cowed by small appliances. Just unplug the thing, bring out the screwdrivers, and if it's already broken you really can't make it any worse.

The kitty now basks before it, his fur blowing in the breeze.

This must be what it's like to be a bit of milkweed, delicately dancing on the breeze.

The weather has been pristine. 70 degrees. Clear blue skies. The mountains still snow-capped even this late.

I love my summer classes, focusing on just one subject all summer long.

My job is great. I'm a little tired after class and I need to do better about actual eating, but the relaxed atmosphere of the tutor center is like that of a resort town on the off-season. We tutor. Then we do pretty much whatever we want. And I'm working with two fanfic writers who are both very cool.

wildernessguru and I are absurdly happy. The cat is fluffy.

All right, whoever ordered up all this happiness, may I tack on a hot fudge sundae? Because that's really all that's missing.


For your enjoyment:

Last Place You Look by thingswithwings, John/Rodney, NC-17
Summary: Hardcore BDSM, that's easy. Hickeys, though. Hickeys are hard. For kink_bingo.

Steamy, with a fetish I've never considered. Naturally, thingswithwings makes it hot, but also... so personal.

The Old Familiar Sting by perfica, John/Rodney, PG-13
Summary: I know I said I'd write a drabble, but the story got away from me! Hope you don't mind a bit of angst.

What perfica calls angst, I call gentle and deeply touching. Wonderful Outcast tag.