I actually used my Visor yesterday to take notes on the subway, coming in to work, and I think I'll post them here...
Discussed fandom, Pinky, the WeLL, and assorted other things (probably ranted too much about Pinky) with Avram (who looks good with the shaved head! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! *ahem*) and Mark at Revival, where the RASSEFF meeting was last night; I gather a couple of people didn't catch the new location, though. Then took the train home with Mark, and discussed more of Pinky and his effect on us over the years; more discussion will follow.
(One thing that came up is that perhaps it's not that everything in Pinky's life is at right angles to the next: it's that there's no connection. Whereas I see a connection between staying up till two, sleeping in till ten or eleven, and not getting in to work till noon, when you do go in, and being fired from jobs where your hours are supposed to be from nine to six, he doesn't. Calling me at 5:30 when he was supposed to meet me at 5, and telling me he's just now leaving, and has to pick up someone else at 6 (and he'll be late for that as well) has no connection to my anger at my schedule being bolluxed up, and therefore there's no need for him to apologize. None of these things connect, and none are his fault.)
Soren made me some new icons last night (go him!), and I've switched to one of them as my default. Slept heavily, got in to work late, but have been productive -- though there's a mess that's not my responsibility that I'm going to have to clean up over the next few weeks. So it goes.
Tonight, home, skipping the photo exhibit opening that probably has me in it (photos of me with Mark, and me with Elissa). Instead, Soren. . .
. . . and writing the two fuck-off-and-out-of-my-life letters to Pinky, for review by my intrepid editors tomorrow night. (Two, because the one I actually send to him will be very short, and leave him no space to argue, as he does, that there's no reason to think that, just because he's done X every time, it's a pattern; the other one will go into more detail, and be useful to show my editor friends some of what's been happening.) We'll do that for a bit, purge the poisons, and then be able to move on.
9:05: F train, car 5855. Strange semi-fannish, semi-crazy-looking guy: balding, remaining tonsure grey-white, odd mouth -- lips slightly pursed out, not completely closing over long teeth, lower teeth noticeably longer than upper ones; multiple plastic bags, much-used; stained foam rectangle tucked under arm. Not homeless, I think; but perhaps an SRO, or living in family home by himself, with his obsessions.
He reminded me of Bernie from TES, with the inevitable quadruple-layered bags of kipple, all the clippings and flyers and detritus. This guy, though, had a much flatter affect. He would never come up to someone the way Bernie did, with hs giggles and sheepish, obsequeous, insistent smile and voice.
Discussed fandom, Pinky, the WeLL, and assorted other things (probably ranted too much about Pinky) with Avram (who looks good with the shaved head! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! *ahem*) and Mark at Revival, where the RASSEFF meeting was last night; I gather a couple of people didn't catch the new location, though. Then took the train home with Mark, and discussed more of Pinky and his effect on us over the years; more discussion will follow.
(One thing that came up is that perhaps it's not that everything in Pinky's life is at right angles to the next: it's that there's no connection. Whereas I see a connection between staying up till two, sleeping in till ten or eleven, and not getting in to work till noon, when you do go in, and being fired from jobs where your hours are supposed to be from nine to six, he doesn't. Calling me at 5:30 when he was supposed to meet me at 5, and telling me he's just now leaving, and has to pick up someone else at 6 (and he'll be late for that as well) has no connection to my anger at my schedule being bolluxed up, and therefore there's no need for him to apologize. None of these things connect, and none are his fault.)
Soren made me some new icons last night (go him!), and I've switched to one of them as my default. Slept heavily, got in to work late, but have been productive -- though there's a mess that's not my responsibility that I'm going to have to clean up over the next few weeks. So it goes.
Tonight, home, skipping the photo exhibit opening that probably has me in it (photos of me with Mark, and me with Elissa). Instead, Soren. . .
. . . and writing the two fuck-off-and-out-of-my-life letters to Pinky, for review by my intrepid editors tomorrow night. (Two, because the one I actually send to him will be very short, and leave him no space to argue, as he does, that there's no reason to think that, just because he's done X every time, it's a pattern; the other one will go into more detail, and be useful to show my editor friends some of what's been happening.) We'll do that for a bit, purge the poisons, and then be able to move on.