December 29th, 2004



I haven't had anything to say about this. It looms over everything of course, and I've been wittering away with distractions, because I'm just not the sort of person who can say long and meaningful things on this kind of subject. The disaster impacts my job; I handle policy and have been dealing with some aspects of it in a small way. Personally, I look at stories and start to cry, and then click away selfishly because I don't want to cry.

Donations can be made through Amazon.

I'm going to revert to fannish form shortly. I'd hate for people to think I'm callous, but there it is.

Sometimes, there just aren't enough rocks.

Distractive daydream du jour: Spike/Gunn. God, I'm fickle. And why am I giving my vampire such an odd love life lately? Well, Gunn--not so odd. The more I stare at that idea, the more clearly I can see it through the peephole in the door of my padded room. But my god, Lorne, and before that it was Xander and Wes and Spike, and even more randomly, watcherly characters based on actors like Liam Neeson and Jack Davenport...and random shoe salesmen, and dentists, and circus clowns, and lawn-mower repairmen, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. And then--and I can't even believe I'm saying this--Angel!

My Spike is such an attention whore. Yes I am in therapy.

I'm finding it very hard to focus today. My hat has a cow.

Help? My last e-mail was from Grapnel Q. Posting, and that's just not right.

Don't worry, I was born this way.