Tea's Stewing

I’d like to tap here that a tea’s brewing and I’m just contentedly tapping away at story ideas, etc. Truth is: tea’s stewing in the office microwave – I’m rushing to do something for me before everyone else shows up – and knowing full well it’s now or never.
Have no idea now what to write: only that I want this exercise, and any exercise has got to result in some good. Maybe these choppy sentences will train me to get to the point, for one.

I’ve just excised the whining bit: it poured out of me – solid paragraph in minutes – done, and good it’s gone, believe me.

Can’t really look around in Protag: not from work. Too many eyes in here. Too wiped at the end of the day to write anything sensible there. Kitty’s back from America – and inspired again to work beneath Paddington Station. Elo: gotta Thank her for her opening my eyes about my sloppy writing. Stella: Vampire Heart – I’m caught up on and thoroughly enjoying.

Just remembered, good. Last night: too tired, I was sure, stared and stared, the page blank. Page stayed blank: good, now I’ve a blank page for tonight.
Last night, staring, idea came that connected with Big Project…1, let’s call it. A tone that’ll run through from start to end, with a complete twist at the end, of course. Scribbled that little nugget on the back of the shopping list in my back pocket. Maybe, some quiet moment today, I’ll play with that.

Morning Scene: Kids arriving for School

Want to jot this down before forgotten.

Private school. Orange traffic cones and sidewalk guards in orange safety vests eye-balling passing residents of the neighbourhood.
Dark blue uniforms: sweaters, girls in skirts, boys in slacks. Kids eye-balling pink-pink cherry blossom: trees heavy in rain; like pink snow in gutters.
Parents whiz through neighbourhood of apartments, along treed streets: Lexusss, Mercedes, Volvo…Ford, oohhh Expedition. Expedition to drop-off kiddies and whiz away: all pedestrians shall yield. And it’s every kid for himself: picturing elephant seal colony, belching blubbery parents, and tramplings accepted as ‘Just the way it is’.
What’s she up to? – Honda…something-van – done dropping off the kid, stops at dumpster in alley behind an apartment. Mama pops out passenger door: she dumps…looks a fried chicken bucket-load of trash. Bucket goes back inside van. She’s opening the back of the van, now: I have impression she’s not done using someone else’s garbage bin.
A truck? Cutting through here and speeding. Truck hauling trailer: AMP, that energy drink…that figures.

Just an exercise in observation writing, this. Putting a little something in my head other than the workday about to start.

Musings re Updates Available

Thanks…really, Thanks for the interruptions.
Am referring to all those ‘helpful’ little pop-ups that pop up in the middle of waking the computer at work.
I want the Saturday job done – I want to get on with the Saturday that isn’t job-related.
But first I’m supposed to dally, to hold even these briefest of conversations with these unhelpful guys…

“But you have unused icons on your desktop. Sure, you can trash-can the shortcuts yourself whenever: I’m here now, I can help. Cummon, wouldn’t you really rather wanna maintain pc desktop cleanliness? It’s not going anywhere, y’know: the mind-numbing work that’s compelled you in, on a Saturday morn, after a workweek long enough already. Cummon, let’s do it together. Desktop maintenance is fun! Here’s another reminder…in case you forgot the one three seconds ago.”

“Beg pardon, Java Update Available Pop-Up here. While you’re at it, how’s about updating Java? I realize you’re prob’ly busy, cleaning up those unused desktop icons and all, however my Java Update should only take another moment of your busy time. And if you really have not got this moment available for updating my Java, how’s about perusing my Update Later options? That’ll take hardly any more of your Saturday, really.”

“SystemAdmin here. Important Notice. Your system password will expire in thirteen days. Would you like to change your password now?”

Yeah...

Swallows Return - 1940...er, 2010

The swallows have returned! Sunshiny hazy blue sky and a loose formation of these beauties swerving about, like Battle o’ Britain spitfires. Supermarine blue wings. Flashes of orange as they roll bellies to the sun.

Ack! – Such jolly fun they must feel. Imagine the cockpit chatter, eh?...

“Happy hunting, Fellows. Tallyhooo!”

“I have my first of this grand, sunshiny, warm, sky-over-patchwork-farm…”

“Whot?”

“I have him.”

“Never!”

“Guns – Guns – Guns! A’Herrgh’A’Herrgh!”

Surly on top...of not seeing Fringe (Fun Working Title)

What happened to my Space Channel, Tuesday night? Got myself home just in time to catch…not a new episode of Fringe…instead…Private Practice.

Perhaps some other time I might be in the mood for yet another hospital melodrama. I wanted to see Fringe, however. There even was the little Space swirly logo in the screen lower right corner.

They broke for sci-fi themed commercials. Returned to more hospital melodrama, preceded by the warning the following show contains violence, et cetera. Clearly, something was amiss.
With fifteen minutes left in whatever those medical practitioners were going on about (I was cooking dinner and no longer cared), the station suddenly broadcast those lovely multi-coloured test bars. Little Space swirly still bottom corner right. Test pattern vanished. An old Circuit show started up, filled the leftover time. At the top of the hour – the thing I guessed likely to show next came – InnerSPACE, the Fringe AfterShow.

Ajay and Teddy dissected the Fringe episode I didn’t get to see. Scenes. Spoilers.

And, today, not a burp I can find on any forum or blog about what happened.
I’m feeling some dread for this Saturday now.
Matt Smith makes his debut as Doctor Who on Space’ace’ace.