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annundrielParents over this weekend for one of Mom's gift shows. (They're buying for next Christmas? Some holiday in the far future.) Tonight, if she's not too tired, we're going to the movies. Woo. They stopped by last night on their way into Seattle and dropped of my New Yorkers from the last three weeks and The Illusionist. Along with the latest ballot. (Blah.)
And I'm proving to be, oh, the best daughter ever, hooking Mom up with the last two episodes of Torchwood. I refused to tell her about theboykissing plot. I'm pretty sure she asked about the kissing and I said, "Well, there were pictures. What do you think?" ::nudge, nudge, wink, wink:: (Pictures aren't proof of anything, though. We did get that pic of Cadman kissing McKay and that certainly never happened on the show.)
We had better really be watching The Dead in Irish Lit today because I did not finish Castle Rackrent and am so not prepared for a quiz.
A couple of days ago, someone died in the building next to ours. Authorities think it was heart related. In The Spectator they had an article about it, but the most interesting part (maybe just for me) was that in 1995 (I keep wanting to say "five years ago," which is so wrong) a body of a former male student was found in the steamer room of one of the dorms (Campion). The body was only found because students were complaining of the smell. The heat and humidity in there were such that authorities could not identify the cause of death due to the deterioration of the body. This both fascinates me (hello, crime shows) and freaks me out (building right next door). And now I want to write mysteries on campus. Fr. Cobb was right after all. You write a book set on a college campus and you've basically gotten yourself a built-in group of readers (alumni, students, faculty).
And a crime/murder on campus would probably be much better than a book where a resident in one of the dorms has a virgin birth until, whoops, they realize it was one of the priests. ("Student Pregnant: God Suspected.")
I am a terrible person.
But YEA WEEKEND.
And I'm proving to be, oh, the best daughter ever, hooking Mom up with the last two episodes of Torchwood. I refused to tell her about the
We had better really be watching The Dead in Irish Lit today because I did not finish Castle Rackrent and am so not prepared for a quiz.
A couple of days ago, someone died in the building next to ours. Authorities think it was heart related. In The Spectator they had an article about it, but the most interesting part (maybe just for me) was that in 1995 (I keep wanting to say "five years ago," which is so wrong) a body of a former male student was found in the steamer room of one of the dorms (Campion). The body was only found because students were complaining of the smell. The heat and humidity in there were such that authorities could not identify the cause of death due to the deterioration of the body. This both fascinates me (hello, crime shows) and freaks me out (building right next door). And now I want to write mysteries on campus. Fr. Cobb was right after all. You write a book set on a college campus and you've basically gotten yourself a built-in group of readers (alumni, students, faculty).
And a crime/murder on campus would probably be much better than a book where a resident in one of the dorms has a virgin birth until, whoops, they realize it was one of the priests. ("Student Pregnant: God Suspected.")
I am a terrible person.
But YEA WEEKEND.
