I had a brief period of 'up'ness for a while there, but it was only brief, of course. The SN chat went well, but I couldn't help but count the people who were not there. Some of them had good reason, but the others? And it was inevitable, I suppose, that after spending an evening on the computer, chatting and sharing and having fun, that there would be a let-down afterward.
The LJ challenge for anonymous fic came to an end, and I posted my two stories in my own LJ - to almost no reaction at all: several of the usual suspects didn't comment, and absolutely no outsiders. It was rather bitterly disappointing, the more so since I thought they were both good stories. But, as I should have learned by now, you can't make people like your writing, any more than you can make them like you. If only we had that power ...
I had all-but forgotten that I'd written something for the most recent flashfic challenge, too - possibly because that passed almost entirely without comment. I don't really know why I persist in writing for that community. I suppose it's just bloody-mindedness - 'You can ignore me all you want, but this is my fandom, and I'm staying!' I do not know what I did to make these people dislike me so. It is very strange.
Always a glutton for punishment, I've nonetheless set up (by proxy, because we know what would happen if I tried to do it) a SN Secret Santa. The very first thing that happened was that we were told it couldn't be Secret Santa. Because that's ... racist? Or at any rate exclusionist. I would have said it was inclusionist, since everyone is welcome and, indeed, encouraged to take part, but I know better than to try to reason with these people. It makes me tired, though. Tired, and cross. As do so many things.
It's been busy but unnoteworthy at work all week. We switched on to new servers on Tuesday and Wednesday, but that went reasonably uneventfully. I've booked some leave from the middle of this week to the middle of next. I should be more cheerful about this, and I suppose in a way I am. But I know I shall end up doing nothing and feeling as though I'd wasted the time. And then get back to work and find masses of stuff piled up waiting for me, and probably at least one huge disaster brought to the full horror of discovery.
We didn't go to the French market this weekend after all; I was too tired, I've been in bed almost all weekend. And we also didn't go and see my mother, which we should have done. We'll have to do it next Saturday, as we have a christening on the Sunday. Which should be amusing: J and me, in a church!
Has anything nice happened? I had an IM chat with an LJ friend the other day, which was lovely. I never initiate conversations, and, if pinged, I always worry whether I'll be able to hold up my end of the conversation, but this went fine. We talked about writing, and then got on to the bitter, bitter subject of the film version of The Dark is Rising, which we feel all right-minded people should boycott like the plague. And I've seen the pilot for Dirty, Sexy Money, and loved it - it's a bit like Brothers and Sisters, but with much richer (by which I mean 'wealthier' not 'better drawn'), more fucked-up, and thoroughly nastier people. WeeJosh's character from Six Degrees would fit right in there, and then he and Peter Krause could compare Baldwins. Wait, that sounds rude. Never mind. If only I had Photoshop skills (or Photoshop, for that matter), I would attempt to merge photos of the two of them from the respective shows, preferably both in their lovely designer overcoats. Dan and Casey, ten years on! That would be cool. But only because I am a nerd.
A depressed nerd. Is there anything lamer?
