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Okay, lisa, you're distracting me
Feb. 28th, 2002 06:55 amWell, you *always* distract me. Radiant beauty and wit and all, but now it's gone too far.
( watch this! )
( watch this! )
Feb. 28th, 2002
I know it's only 8:30 in the morning, but my Punjabi Aloo
("Fresh baby potatoes cooked with spicy curry sauce of garlic, ginger, onions and tomatoes") was calling to me, and it was even more delicious than last night. Tamarind and cilantro chutneys, naan, mmmmmmmm.
Ann was in a wreck last night. I worry that she won't take whiplash seriously. I worry that she is alone in time of trauma.
On the 8th, I hand over the money for my own domain. I don't really need it, but it's cheap and I've been wanting it for years. I'm excited, too, about the veg. resources pages I'm going to put up. The site I've always liked, VegSource, has become very political and is now using popunder ads. We *hate* popunder ads, right, boys and girls?
About halfway through reading FOTR. Now I see why people missed Tom Bombadil in the movie. What a wonderful sequence this is, and the character is fascinating, but the time at his house is mostly sensory descriptions and exposition, so I'm not sure how it would've been in the movie--maybe the dream sequences might've been fun.
Went through the magazines yesterday. We subscribe to way too many. Curve, Girlfriends, Out, The Advocate, On Our Backs, Rosie, Woman's Day (it was the only not-terrible choice on my niece's fundraiser), TV Guide, Vogue, Vegetarian Times, Writer's Digest. I think that's it. And that's not counting the free stuff and random copies of MetroSource and The Modernist that we pick up off the rack. I finally sorted them into three racks a few months ago -- this month, last month, and next month. It's kept the clutter down by a mile, though there are still a ton of them in "the reading room" (translation: bathroom).
I still smell like curry. I like the smell, but my poor cow-orkers!
Writing a piece that won't gel. Should get back to that. Oh, thank the heavens for a job with lots of time to write. I'm a lucky, lucky woman.
("Fresh baby potatoes cooked with spicy curry sauce of garlic, ginger, onions and tomatoes") was calling to me, and it was even more delicious than last night. Tamarind and cilantro chutneys, naan, mmmmmmmm.
Ann was in a wreck last night. I worry that she won't take whiplash seriously. I worry that she is alone in time of trauma.
On the 8th, I hand over the money for my own domain. I don't really need it, but it's cheap and I've been wanting it for years. I'm excited, too, about the veg. resources pages I'm going to put up. The site I've always liked, VegSource, has become very political and is now using popunder ads. We *hate* popunder ads, right, boys and girls?
About halfway through reading FOTR. Now I see why people missed Tom Bombadil in the movie. What a wonderful sequence this is, and the character is fascinating, but the time at his house is mostly sensory descriptions and exposition, so I'm not sure how it would've been in the movie--maybe the dream sequences might've been fun.
Went through the magazines yesterday. We subscribe to way too many. Curve, Girlfriends, Out, The Advocate, On Our Backs, Rosie, Woman's Day (it was the only not-terrible choice on my niece's fundraiser), TV Guide, Vogue, Vegetarian Times, Writer's Digest. I think that's it. And that's not counting the free stuff and random copies of MetroSource and The Modernist that we pick up off the rack. I finally sorted them into three racks a few months ago -- this month, last month, and next month. It's kept the clutter down by a mile, though there are still a ton of them in "the reading room" (translation: bathroom).
I still smell like curry. I like the smell, but my poor cow-orkers!
Writing a piece that won't gel. Should get back to that. Oh, thank the heavens for a job with lots of time to write. I'm a lucky, lucky woman.
(no subject)
Feb. 28th, 2002 11:53 amSuch a languid, low-energy day. Not in a bad way; just saving all nonessential tasks for later. Later will come eventually. I just louuuunnnnge through this day and *poof* a new one will come tomorrow.