November 9th, 2007


Two Arghs and a Yay.

Argh One: This evening's Write-In at SFU has been cancelled, I do not know why. I only know that I lugged my laptop to work today and now I shall lug it back to my apartment for no reason.

Argh Two: Open casting call for Starfleet cadets tomorrow. I have never, ever in my life wanted so much to be in Burbank, and I likely never will again. (I'm especially geeking out over the fact that the casting call requests that all headshots portray female actors with their hair pulled "severely" away from the face. Hee. You just know that came from Michael Westmore. "Bangs? They can't have bangs! These are Starfleet cadets! They must have functional coiffure, even if they're sixteen layers behind the stars in the faraway background of a shot!") I hate you, Paramount. Why, for once, could the geeky rumours not be true? *mope*

The Yay: I WILL crack 20k tonight, regardless, and tomorrow morning (hopefully) mik100 are going to the Circle Craft Fair, the biggest craft fair on the face of the Earth (at least the bits I've visited). (At which I will absolutely not buy any more hand-thrown pottery. Or hand-tooled leather guitar straps. Or hand-made reed recorders. Even though I actually have a job this year and money to spend. Nope. *innocent whistling*)

(no subject)

Okay, so long story short, I got my hair cut last weekend. I now have layers in the front. (I SWEAR THIS IS IMPORTANT.) This means I have little bits that escape my hair clip if I put my hair up and cannot be arsed to do it properly.

Evidently the little short bits are of great interest to the cat. After chewing on them for a few seconds (until I threw him off the couch), he climbed back up and just... sat there. Danny has, for the past half hour, been sitting on the back of the couch, hunched over staring intently at my hair, and purring, very, very loudly.

Should I be worried?


This is why I'm a dog person. Dogs can't do prolonged creepy stares. They get bored, forget what they were doing, and fall asleep on your legs.


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