I’ve been watching hasthelargehadroncolliderdestroyedtheworldyet.com closely, but so far it hasn’t.
It turns out that this is because Martha Jones and Torchwood saved the world again, complete with questionable science.
Meanwhile, here in California SLAC has no funding until November, and they won’t even listen to my advice to make an awesome rap video to rival the one those dorks at CERN made.
Scene: Jen’s living room. Jen, Molly, and Wojtek are watching the Olympics.
Announcer: This must be a little bit like waiting for Godot for them.
J, M, and W look at each other and question whether the announcer knows what he’s talking about.
Molly: “Let’s go.” “We can’t.” “Why not?” “We’re waiting for our event to start.” “Oh.”
For your further education, I’d like to shine a little bit of light on two very different people who are infrequently confused, except by me.
Jon Sims was a luminary of the San Francisco gay music scene in the 1970s, founding the San Francisco Lesbian and Gay Freedom Band and the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus in 1978 and going on to found the Lesbian/Gay Chorus of San Francisco in 1979. Fun fact: the Freedom Band was the first orchestra or chorus in the world to have the words “gay” and/or “lesbian” in its name. He went on to found several other gay music groups and died of AIDS in 1984. He is remembered by his namesake organization, the Jon Sims performing Arts Center in San Francisco, which closed down last year.
John Simm, on the other hand, is a British actor of some repute, known primarily (to me at least) for his roles as Sam Tyler on Life on Mars and as the Master in season 3 of the new Who.
Yes, I realize that the two men have about as much in common as carnal embrace and Fermat’s Last Theorem. But surely you can see how a member of LGCSF, who is also the sort of geek prone to watching tv shows like Doctor Who and Life on Mars, might periodically pause to consider which of the two she is hearing about at any given moment?
When I saw Randall Monroe speak last fall, he said that people are always claiming that he is secretly watching them and stealing their lives. This of course was not true–he was totally innocent.
I believed him at the time, of course. But that was before he stole my “every subject is ultimately reducible to mathematics” game!
ETA: My alt text, “Off the panel on the right, there’s a logician wondering why the mathematician is still bothering to prove things in the object language.” doesn’t seem to be hovering over the image for me. It’s supported, though, by this guy
If I were still on LiveJournal, this entry would start like this: I spent the weekend hanging out with tokyo_apple, melfinatheblue, and sarsmicama (and other, LJless folks) at diadem_chi’s wedding.
Of course, now that I’ve started that way, I can’t use anyone’s real names, can I? Or at least, I must be very eliptical and rely on your inability to match first names to internet handles. Or something. Anyway, the weekend in summary form:
Left work ~5pm on Thursday to go to chorus. Skipped out early (missing choreography rehearsal for “Ray’s Rockhouse”) to go to 9:30pm showing of Indiana Jones on the Employer’s dollar. Enjoyed Indiana Jones thoroughly (ESPECIALLY Karen Allen as a love interest almost as grizzeled as Jones himself.)
Got home at ~11:30pm. In expectation of 4am shuttle to airport, cleaned living room, washed dishes, finished packing, and got dressed for flight before going to bed ~2am. Determined that wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt for travel was the best way to survive a day of flying after a night of not sleeping.
Caught shuttle on time. Waited twenty minutes in front of home of the next gentleman on the shuttle, who was not quite as on time. Arrived at airport. Hopped on plane. Arrived at Minneapolis. Hopped off plane, hopped on another plane. Arrived in Detroit. Received phone call from Alenna. Hopped off plane. Took shuttle bus to Avis car rental, flirting with shuttle driver in transit. Found Alenna. Met Bill and AJ. Learned that they kick ass.
Assumed role of navigatrix for trip to Ann Arbor to pick up Ai at what Bill thought was a bus station but Alenna said was a train station. A few miles in, determined that highway exit numbers were counting in the wrong direction to get us where we were going. Thought I had failed as navigatrix by being too interested in A.J. and Bill’s stories. Turned around, went back and eventually found out that had in fact been misled by lying Google Maps! Giggled at irony of groom’s profession. Arrived in Ann Arbor safely, an hour before scheduled arrival of Ai’s train. Settled in a restaurant far too fancy for t-shirt and yoga pants. Learned that restaurant was not, in fact, the Candy Dancer as we first read, but the Gandy Dancer. Drank cosmopolitan. Ate almond-crusted brie.
Saw train pass at Ai’s intended arrival time. Clapped with rest of restaurant because the train did not hit us (this has apparently been a tradition since the 30s, when a train did hit the restaurant). Walked over to train station. Learned that Ai had not been aboard. Learned further that the only plausible train from Ai’s most recent location would be arriving at 11:30 that night, and indeed, that Ai was not ticketed on any trains coming from the west.
Went back to restaurant, hopes pooled around my feet. Finished cosmo. Started beer. Received call from Ai, who was (a) running late and (b) on a bus. Walked back to train station to determine location of bus station. Sent Alenna off to pick Ai up at bus station. Ate some sort of appetizer, the only vegetarian thing on the menu. Greeted Ai. Drank another beer. Stole some of A.J.’s mashed potatoes.
Went to hotel. Checked in. Found room. Found S.K. and others in groom’s room, playing some sort of card game. Socialized a bit. Went away with A.J., Bill, and Ai to watch Battlestar Gallactica and Firefly. There was no Battlestar Gallactica. Listened to Jaws woman on A.J.’s computer speak much faster than I could understand in a voice that only A.J. could recognize as sexy and Australian at that speed. Wandered to nearby grocery store with A.J. and Bill to acquire alcohol. Watched Firefly and drank beer. Went downstairs, went to sleep.
Woke up, cleaned off plane junk, ate expensive breakfast and got ready for wedding with Alenna and Ai while watching Torchwood. Acquired baked goods in support of breast cancer research.
Wedding was lovely. Readings were excellent. Was reassured by one of Chi’s aunts that we were the “fun side” of the chapel. S.K. did a good job at not giggling while reading seamier bits of the Song of Songs. Chi was gorgeous in her princess dress. The deacon did an excellent job. The ceremony was Christian enough to make Chi’s family happy, but not Christian enough to make me feel uncomfortable, which I applauded. And lo, Brian and Chi were married. (And lo, I had seen Chi for the first time that weekend, if from a distance).
Hung out in bar with sundry people while waiting for wedding party to take photos. Remembered that had brought camera. Took many photos. Went upstairs and watched more Firefly.
Went to reception. Drank many G&Ts. Did not once think about them WRT the Tom/Ginny ship back in my Fiction Alley days. Ate amazing risotto/mushroom/eggplant concoction. Learned that one can force bride and groom to kiss by clinking your glass with your silverware. Experimented with timing to do this. Got wedding cake frosting on my nose. Took many photos. Broke dance floor heteronormativity gap with Ai, opening up the dance floor to more than just couples. Relaxed enough to let someone else (namely, Ai) lead me! Noticed that dress was not conducive to dance level of movement. Changed to dress that caused fewer issues WRT bra showing, but which was a bit sluttier. Enjoyed frequent confusion on part of reception venue employees re: Brian’s Best Maid and Chi’s Man of Honor. Found this awesome.
Turned down option of more Firefly to hang out with hotel roommate S.K. for first time of the weekend. Went to bed.
Woke up, checked out of hotel. Visited Brian and Chi in two-floor penthouse suite. Enjoyed humor of Brian’s t-shirt. Carried away suitcase. Whiled away the 5 remaining hours until leaving for the airport with S.K. and Rob. Took many photos. Played several rousing rounds of Guillotine. Never won.
Went to airport. Was spied on eerily by Brian and Chi from fancy member’s-only lounge. Boarded plane. Fended off sibling poking from both sides. Read SkyMall catalog while listening to JoCo’s “SkyMall”. Arrived in San Francisco. Received generous ride home from la madre de S.K. y Rob. Went home. Went to bed.
And then I found five dollars the end.
I could leave my apartment right now and go to a birthday party for WordPress.
Or I could go to bed, like a good girl.
OR I could watch my third Star Trek episode of the night.
(ETA: Or, apparently, I could spend the next two hours writing up a weekend recap)
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