Hand-written last night around 9 PM
May. 16th, 2002 08:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetSo I'm sitting here at the Athenaeum wanting to go home - "The West Wing" starts soon, after all - but I'm listening to a not-terribly-interesting love scene from a Napoleonic-era nautical adventure someone wrote. It's writer's workshop night, which requires an Athenaeum employee to open up the building for them and then sit around while Salem's literati critique one another's work.
I can't concentrate on the book I brought to study, since all I can think about is that they should be done now and I should be home eating dinner.
A little while ago a local spooky woman read a rather cool horror story she'd written and so I listened rather than try to tune it out. Annoyingly, her ending didn't make any sense, and she didn't explain it because the others in the writing group want her to revise it and bring it back and see if it makes more sense next time without knowing anything more than what's in the story. Logical, but irritating. Oh well, there's a good chance I'll be here when she reads the revision some day.
Grr. There's a good chance I'll still be here then. I wish Napoleonic woman would shut up and let me go home!
It could be worse. The current story made someone mention having read, or perhaps written, but I don't want to believe that of any of them, a Horatio Hornblower / Star Trek TNG crossover story (involving the holodeck). At least I was spared that.
Fifteen minutes later: still here. I can't concentrate on my Tacitus book and I've already read "Entertainment Weekly" cover to cover. (Last "Beastmaster" episode ever this weekend. Set your VCR.) I should call J. and let her know she should go ahead and eat without me. Perhaps they'll overhear me and feel bad.
----
12 hours later.
I finally got to leave in another fifteen minutes (not sure if the phone call helped or not) and watched the last half of "West Wing," guest-starring John Amos as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
John Amos rocked in the original "Beastmaster" movie, come to think of it.
I originally typed that "Breastmaster." Wouldn't that have been entertaining.
I can't concentrate on the book I brought to study, since all I can think about is that they should be done now and I should be home eating dinner.
A little while ago a local spooky woman read a rather cool horror story she'd written and so I listened rather than try to tune it out. Annoyingly, her ending didn't make any sense, and she didn't explain it because the others in the writing group want her to revise it and bring it back and see if it makes more sense next time without knowing anything more than what's in the story. Logical, but irritating. Oh well, there's a good chance I'll be here when she reads the revision some day.
Grr. There's a good chance I'll still be here then. I wish Napoleonic woman would shut up and let me go home!
It could be worse. The current story made someone mention having read, or perhaps written, but I don't want to believe that of any of them, a Horatio Hornblower / Star Trek TNG crossover story (involving the holodeck). At least I was spared that.
Fifteen minutes later: still here. I can't concentrate on my Tacitus book and I've already read "Entertainment Weekly" cover to cover. (Last "Beastmaster" episode ever this weekend. Set your VCR.) I should call J. and let her know she should go ahead and eat without me. Perhaps they'll overhear me and feel bad.
----
12 hours later.
I finally got to leave in another fifteen minutes (not sure if the phone call helped or not) and watched the last half of "West Wing," guest-starring John Amos as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
John Amos rocked in the original "Beastmaster" movie, come to think of it.
I originally typed that "Breastmaster." Wouldn't that have been entertaining.
