leahbobet | Thud: Above, Brief Scenes from Pride

June 30, 2008 Progress Notes:

Above

Words today: 2500.
Words total: 60,500 MS Word, 73,250 SMF.

73,250 / 85,000
(86.2%)

Reason for stopping: Quota. Or knowing I'm not getting to 3k tonight.
Munchies: Bocconcini, cherries, and pears.

Darling du Jour: Jack is good and kind. Jack looks away and is quiet while I do my crying, and he doesn't say nothing about it from the time my voice goes down and my shoulders start to quiver from the time I get my breath back under rein again, swallow up the little gulps and wipe the tears and snot and sweat that comes from crying too hard off my face.

Words Matthew Won't Admit to Knowing: None tonight.
Mean Things: Shame. Finally getting some of the things people have been gently trying to pound through your head for months. More shame. And everyone, just everyone, being wrong.
Research Roundup: Exterior of Toronto General.
Books in progress: Charles Stross, Saturn's Children.
The glamour: A bean! I has it! Also, grocery shopping, other garden work besides gloating, and job-applying.

My graduation request is up on the university system. Although the summer marks aren't there yet, this gave me a little shiver of glee. I get to hit the button that says I'm out of here on Wednesday (as tomorrow is a statutory holiday, and buttons do not work on stats).

Today was quiet -- mostly recovering from the weekend, which encompassed two longish shifts at work and an awesome backyard barbeque yesterday afternoon, all in and around Pride Weekend. I didn't see much of Pride except the marketplace thing they do on Saturday (aka: the Dealer's Room), wherein I did not buy one (1) tee-shirt that said "Straight, Not Narrow" for lack of funds but did buy one (1) fresh-squeezed limeade. The best bit was probably Saturday morning, when I was walking down to College to get a streetcar to go to work (bus service gets wonky during the Pride Run), and passed a group of about fifteen runners of all genders wearing wedding dresses, shuffling mightily amidst the actual marathon-runners along Wellesley:

Runner 1: I'm tired.
Runner 2, adjusting veil: (acidly) All right, kids, are we doing this or not?

There was something just...peculiarly wonderful about that. :)

Now reading, and then shortly bed. Statutory holiday or not, I need to get a proper haircut and make stabs at finding some interview clothes tomorrow.