October 6th, 2007

(no subject)

I had a lovely farm-y friend-y foodie day today and am dead beat. I'll blog on the farm-y foodie friend-y day on my other blog. I will reserve this space for a really terribly important statement.

I am watching the series UFO.

I finished Buffy and decided I needed to go upbeat, and Donna decided that UFO was terribly important to my viewing life. She has also decided I have to see Rome. What's really bad about Rome is she expects me to comment on it. I might watch it with Tacitus and Suetonius and Livy in hand (I don't even know which bits of Roman history it covers - maybe I need Petronius Arbiter?).

There's something very wrong with my brain, because I am entirely enjoying UFO despite having been told by three different people that I should find it tedious, and I don't have the excuse of nostalgia because I never saw it the first time round. When I watch it, my critical faculties disengage (which is rare) so I can't tell you if it's good or bad or wooden or strange. All I know is it's terribly groovy and the music is the proper sort of cool and the actor who plays Straker looks very much as if he ought to be Mark Hamill's father and the special effects (and some of the music) link back so neatly to Thunderbirds that I want to devise a universe where they both exist. Also, I have a sudden craving for a bouncy mauve/purple wig.

It's just as well I don't have any sort of craving for the rest of the costumes. No-one with my shape should be seen in any of them. You are unlikely to find a Swinging Sixties Buffet at the next Conflux. This is a great pity, because I have some particularly odd recipes from then that could make quite a display.

Some of my books have gone away, thanks to the kindness of Stu and Kate who are taller than I am. It's a tad embarrassing to not be able to reach the top shelf in your own library. They got to taste my green medlar liqueur as a reward and no-one's rung me to blame me for their untimely deaths, so all is well. The liqueur tastes gorgeous, too.

In more scholarly news, several articles-by-me (including one that is somewhat feminist and another that mentions the Medieval sex life of elephants) have been delayed.

I'm beginning to wonder why people publish writing by me. In the eighties I killed magazines. Now I delay books. I guess it's an improvement.

I'm a bit nervous about one of the articles, to be honest. It's about women in SF/F in the Middle Ages. There are so many quagmires in defining science fiction and fantasy in Medieval fiction (and even in defining the Middle Ages, or fiction) that I rather suspect my article might be controversial. It's the first long essay in a two volume encycopedia, too. The editor doesn't want to can it, which is something, but I get to see her edits or revision suggestions rather soon. If I were wearing shoes, I would quake in them.

And now you know why UFO is what I must watch tonight. It's imperative I return to the consolations of my childhood. Or maybe it's imperative that I catch up on things I missed in my childhood. Or maybe I'm still lazy.

PS You really don't have to point out how disconnected my mind is, still. I know it. It's the real reason I'm having time out - I did too much at Conflux and my body and brain need to catch up.