I don’t know why it took me so long to finally see it. I didn’t expect to be as happy with a true crossover of the century as I was when the 10th doctor first compared the size of his sonic with 11.
I grew up with The Simpsons. Family Guy grew on me. I love them both and I love the names associated with them and the crossover gave me an injection of endorphin that can rarely be equaled.
Thank you to Matt Groening, Seth MacFarlane and their respective teams for making me laugh and cry.
No writing done last night. Not a word. Not counting the blog post announcing my intention to have writing projects finished.
Upsetting conversations and other things of an upsetting nature threw me off my game. Yeah, I could have tried to soldier through it but sitting in front of a computer screen that’s burning electricity without any help from me is almost the same thing as not turning it on at all.
But I almost got a picture of one eating another bird today. I was going to use it to illustrate a point about certain “celebrities” in Salem. Then I realized that would push the tone of this blog into darker regions, even if I’ve never been known as a bright and sunny figure even on my best day.
John is going to New Hampshire to see flowers and I’ll be at home with Dickens. That gives me plenty of reason not to waste another day of not writing. But there are games to play and shows to watch. What do I do?
Finish the fairy tale today. At least, the wordy part. Finish another project today. Do those things and I’ll have my non-carnivorous treat as a reward. (Maybe even a frozen pizza, who knows? The day is young.)
A day with the family, seeing my nephews and nieces, my brother, his new wife (fiance?), and my sister and mother all in Salem was one of the biggest emotional boosts I could have hoped for.
I’m wary of putting pictures up of any of the children in my family but just getting to hear Baby Alex’s voice and watch him as he “planted” every “flower” he pulled up from the ground was a treat in and of itself. The girls, Ava and Aubrey are getting bigger and their wits are getting sharper every time I see them. It’s a strange feeling knowing that this is the next generation from the brother I grew up with and how they are essentially smaller versions of us at one point.
And before anyone asks, no. I’m not having kids of my own.
The main benefit of nephews and nieces is they are kids I can love but that I don’t have to keep.
Here’s are some questions for all of you, faithful readers. It involves reality shows. (Please, don’t respond with, “I don’t watch reality shows.” If you don’t watch them, the question isn’t relevant to you.) More specifically it involves reality shows that feature a competition (Also, I don’t need a lecture about how reality shows work or the competitions with a reality show format as I have already watched that episode of Adam Ruins Everything.).
I ask because John and I have been watching RuPaul’s drag race. And honestly, I couldn’t tell you who was who six episodes ago because I was only maybe attached to about five of the competitors who are not currently in the top five (Although I did find myself identifying with Nina Bonina Brown and was kind of sad to see her go).
Similarly, with The Great British Baking Show, I’m rarely concerned with who got eliminated in the beginning because while they may have been one of the best twelve bakers in the country, they weren’t the best OF twelve. Plain and simple, I beyond guessing who gets sent home, I just don’t remember them for long. I’m more likely to remember the last ten at most, or I’m most likely to remember the one or two that I was rooting for from the beginning (A word of warning to my British friends, if you spoil the ending if Baking Show, I will be entering my new meat pie recipe into next year’s competition, if you catch my drift).
If you watch such shows, do you generally care about who gets eliminated first? Have you ever been in, or watched a show because you knew someone in the line-up? How invested are you in the process of watching the show from beginning to end?
The princess of the Eastern Shore is soon to be heir to one of the wealthiest kingdom in all the land. With the fastest merchant fleet, they have access to the most profitable trade routes but their armies are weak. The king implores the princess to marry one of the princes of Iron Hall, a kingdom with a fierce army and defenses.
The head cook, who has worked for the many nobles and kings, sends his apprentice to find a pig, knowing that the princes of Iron Hall have an appetite for porcine flesh. But the only pig in the kingdom of the Eastern Shore seems to be a frail little shoat, in a failing farm, on a dying stretch of land at the edge of the kingdom.
I did manage to get a thousand words down today, at the college. But now that John has finally convinced me to put an air conditioner in my room, the main discomfort of working in a virtual hotbox is no longer going to be a problem. It feels great in there and it’s possible I will get more writing done as the college library isn’t even sparing the AC.
Also, my whinging about Bechdel test was for nothing. I knew that if I gave myself time and focused on the story, I’d solve the problem I was making for myself.
When the story is finished I will be looking for artwork to include in a mock-copy. My first go-to is going to be my sister-in-law, Minneka. And if you go to Thicket Things, you’ll see why.