30 June 2000

I woke up this morning to turn over. Not at all unusual; I do it at least three or four times a night. Sometimes I open my eyes briefly and look at the clock, sometimes I don't bother. This morning, I didn't bother. I thought to myself, Hmm... I hope I've got time before the alarm clock goes off to-

Breep! Breep! Breep! Breep! Breep!

Damn.

I don't even remember what it was I wanted to do before the alarm went off.

Here's something that doesn't happen often: I was the one who wanted to go to the movie, and Matt was the one who wanted to stay home.

K.T. asked if we'd like to meet her and Kevin to go see Chicken Run, which looks like a very silly, fun movie. Both Matt and I want to see it, so I told her probably yes, but needed to wait until Matt got home and check with him to be sure. I didn't think it would be a problem - usually I'm the one who's picky about movies and doesn't want to see things. K.T. and I decided we could eat dinner before the movie at the Chinese place in the same shopping center - I'd developed a craving for fried rice about half an hour earlier - and worked out the movie times and figured we'd all be home before ten.

Matt came home, and I told him the suggestion.

Alas, between a moderately crappy day at work and a mild cold that had him sneezing all day and flat-out exhausted, Matt was not in the mood to go anywhere. He suggested that I could go without him, but I knew if I did that, then he'd never see the movie. I don't think it's going to be such a great movie that I'll want to see it twice, and Matt and I almost never rent movies, no matter how much we say we will.

So I relayed the bad news to K.T. I hope she wasn't too upset with us.

So K.T. was sufficiently impressed by the story bit I wrote yesterday for the Word of the Day that I'm thinking of turning it into a complete story, with a plot and everything. I spent a few minutes yesterday brainstorming ideas. I threw one of them at Braz, who told me it sounded like William Gibson's Neuromancer.

I've read most everything else Gibson's written, but not the one book he's best well-known for. Weird, huh? Now I'm trying to decide if I should read it before I write the story, so I know what kinds of things to avoid (I don't want to come off looking like a complete plagarist), or if reading it in advance will just influence me too much.

I know. It's a hard life I lead.

Word of the Day: maudlin - drunk enough to be emotionally silly; weakly and effusively sentimental

Oh, I get maudlin pretty frequently, and not always when I'm drinking. I've been known to weep when I consider my friends, cling desperately to my husband, and cry hysterically at the mere thought of losing my cat. I've even used the word "maudlin" to describe my mood on occasion.

But usually I just call it P.M.S. and leave it at that.