The weekend
Feb. 9th, 2004 12:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetThis weekend was spectacularly unimpressive from the point of view of anyone who's rooting for me to finish my degree, for various and opposite reasons.
Saturday was an unexpectedly fun day, if not a productive one: a surprise visit all afternoon from the delightful S. and P., and, when they had gone home to get ready for a strangely themed party (a friend of theirs thought "dress like it's the future: 2010!" to be suitable fodder for the imagination; S. said he expected he'd still be wearing the same sweatshirt then), J. and I had a non-vegetarian friendly dinner: homemade boudin blanc sausages, potatoes roasted in duck fat, mixed greens with fig balsamic vinegar, and bootleg Breton cider, the last of which especially made us decide to write off the rest of the evening.
Sunday, on the other hand, was the sort of day that makes me shake my head in sorry confusion when misguided Camarilla gamers try to argue that losing challenges should not cause you to lose traits: or, to elaborate somewhat more comprehensibly, a series of small and by themselves unimportant and unrelated setbacks that would be tedious to enumerate followed one upon the other, making me less and less capable of dealing with subsequent ones -- until, all out of Mental Traits and Willpower, I sat grouchily at my keyboard, unable to summon my academic Muse.
Saturday was an unexpectedly fun day, if not a productive one: a surprise visit all afternoon from the delightful S. and P., and, when they had gone home to get ready for a strangely themed party (a friend of theirs thought "dress like it's the future: 2010!" to be suitable fodder for the imagination; S. said he expected he'd still be wearing the same sweatshirt then), J. and I had a non-vegetarian friendly dinner: homemade boudin blanc sausages, potatoes roasted in duck fat, mixed greens with fig balsamic vinegar, and bootleg Breton cider, the last of which especially made us decide to write off the rest of the evening.
Sunday, on the other hand, was the sort of day that makes me shake my head in sorry confusion when misguided Camarilla gamers try to argue that losing challenges should not cause you to lose traits: or, to elaborate somewhat more comprehensibly, a series of small and by themselves unimportant and unrelated setbacks that would be tedious to enumerate followed one upon the other, making me less and less capable of dealing with subsequent ones -- until, all out of Mental Traits and Willpower, I sat grouchily at my keyboard, unable to summon my academic Muse.
