practice day
Jan. 18th, 2008 11:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabAs in, practicing what it would be like if I were for some reason awake during the day. Yesterday I flipped fully around, the day before I didn't sleep at all, nor the day before that, and today I woke at ten tonight. Well, at least there's new SGA.
I dreamed I was on a colony ship heading out to space, populated by the cast of thirtysomething. If Ellyn didn't sleep with Gary we'd all die, somehow, and there were space waves crashing against the side of the ship, and Nancy and Elliot suspicious of our motives, and I got to shower with Melissa at the end. We went to space twice and came home twice, but the third time it was anyone's guess, and probably we'd all die out there, at the hands of infidelity and the vacuum. I also dreamed that I smothered Houlihan, our new cat, and she came back from the dead to haunt me. Too many zombie movies? Never.
If luck's on my side I'll conk out again in the next couple hours, and sleep the medicated sleep of the confused until sometime during daylight tomorrow. And if luck's on my side, someone will deliver food to this part of town so I don't have to put pants on to make it happen.
In gearing up for my Yuletide assignment, I bought someone's handily burned off of old VHSs from the Lifetime airings versions of thirtysomething on DVD, and watched the whole show in order for the first time since, like, 1992. (There are no official released DVDs, nor any concrete/believable information about the release of said. Like when yuppiedom expired, all the vestiges of its era went with it. Except for some reason we can still buy Murphy Brown on DVD...) It's brilliant, this show, political and clever and pushy and with that great late-80s early 90s vibe that informed so much of my life.
And now that I've written and posted The Thousand Nights and a Night, roughly 3000 words about Michael, Gary, Melissa, and winter in the Philadelphia suburbs, there is exactly one piece of thirysomething fic on the great internets at large. The saddest fandom of one ever, so lonely and confused. I mean, there's such a great MSCL presence in these parts, you'd think that someone would have put fingers to keyboard with the thirtysomething clan, but NO. Nada, zip, zilch. So anyway, if you want to warm the cockles of my heart (and it's my birthday in two weeks!), feel like writing thirtysomething fic? 500 word drabble? If we break, oh, three, I'll even make a website! If not, will the two or three of you who can hear this and who actually watched thirtysomething go on over and read my yuletide fic? Just, you know, so I'm not thirtysomething-ing into a vacuum, so I'm not riding a colony ship all alone into space, just waiting to float unnoticed until a wormhole takes us into oblivion. Think I'm having megalomaniacal abandonment issues? Maybe so. Maybe so. *g*
I dreamed I was on a colony ship heading out to space, populated by the cast of thirtysomething. If Ellyn didn't sleep with Gary we'd all die, somehow, and there were space waves crashing against the side of the ship, and Nancy and Elliot suspicious of our motives, and I got to shower with Melissa at the end. We went to space twice and came home twice, but the third time it was anyone's guess, and probably we'd all die out there, at the hands of infidelity and the vacuum. I also dreamed that I smothered Houlihan, our new cat, and she came back from the dead to haunt me. Too many zombie movies? Never.
If luck's on my side I'll conk out again in the next couple hours, and sleep the medicated sleep of the confused until sometime during daylight tomorrow. And if luck's on my side, someone will deliver food to this part of town so I don't have to put pants on to make it happen.
In gearing up for my Yuletide assignment, I bought someone's handily burned off of old VHSs from the Lifetime airings versions of thirtysomething on DVD, and watched the whole show in order for the first time since, like, 1992. (There are no official released DVDs, nor any concrete/believable information about the release of said. Like when yuppiedom expired, all the vestiges of its era went with it. Except for some reason we can still buy Murphy Brown on DVD...) It's brilliant, this show, political and clever and pushy and with that great late-80s early 90s vibe that informed so much of my life.
And now that I've written and posted The Thousand Nights and a Night, roughly 3000 words about Michael, Gary, Melissa, and winter in the Philadelphia suburbs, there is exactly one piece of thirysomething fic on the great internets at large. The saddest fandom of one ever, so lonely and confused. I mean, there's such a great MSCL presence in these parts, you'd think that someone would have put fingers to keyboard with the thirtysomething clan, but NO. Nada, zip, zilch. So anyway, if you want to warm the cockles of my heart (and it's my birthday in two weeks!), feel like writing thirtysomething fic? 500 word drabble? If we break, oh, three, I'll even make a website! If not, will the two or three of you who can hear this and who actually watched thirtysomething go on over and read my yuletide fic? Just, you know, so I'm not thirtysomething-ing into a vacuum, so I'm not riding a colony ship all alone into space, just waiting to float unnoticed until a wormhole takes us into oblivion. Think I'm having megalomaniacal abandonment issues? Maybe so. Maybe so. *g*
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-19 08:26 am (UTC)My god, someone whose sleep patterns are weirder than mine at the moment. *is kindred spirit*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-19 10:25 pm (UTC)Oh, thirtysomething, how I miss you.