primroseburrows: (SA: against their own succession)
Last night I dreamed that Paul Gross worked at my hospital. I'm not sure exactly what he did there, but for some reason we kept having meetings, and he was at all of them. With Geoffrey-hair, no less, but it definitely wasn't Geoffrey.

And now, a meme, via [ profile] mizface:

Bold all of the tv shows which you have seen at least three episodes of.
Underline the shows you're positive you have seen every single episode of.

I've added a few shows that I think should be included )
primroseburrows: (SA: NNW)
Dorkiest. Dream. Ever.

Okay, so I was Somewhere in Ontario(tm), in a store that apparently was a competitor of Canadian Tire. It was a field trip of some kind, and I was with a whole group of people;[ profile] catwalksalone, [ profile] unhurt and [ profile] meresy were also in the group.

For some reason we were camping out in said store, and I remember suggesting we also visit an actual Canadian Tire, since I'd never been in one (a true fact, btw, but um. Not one that bothers me, honest). Everyone was all, yeah, that's a great idea. They were all WAY too enthusiastic about this plan (including [Bad username or site: @], who, well. Just wouldn't get all het up like that in RL over a trip to Canadian Tire, fergodssake).

Someone else suggested we make a side trip to Ottawa (and okay, a trip to Ottawa as an afterthought to a planned visit to the local Canadian Tire? Um.). Anyway, we didn't do either of those things in my dream, but I did get to go on this giant swing that looked like a ski lift, and we all got to look around the store and then camp out on the floor in sleeping bags. There was a nerdy computer guy doing something Very Important there, too; I don't remember what it was, just that it was pretty much essential to life as we know it or something. And there was a little kid who may or may not have been my Amelia. There was more, which I would have been able to remember if I'd written this down right after I woke up.
primroseburrows: (group w)
  • See, now, this is why I get the CBC newsfeed:

    "It's a little bit of a shocker. Not the greatest way to wake up, but beats a cup of coffee, I guess, to get the blood going."

  • Am taking fiddle classes at the Blackstone River Theatre. A world of yay. I finally got my own fiddle back from the Fiddle Fixer Guy. Complete new set of strings and the bridge is back where it belongs (of course, I proceeded to break a string while tuning it and had to get another one). Am going to practise as soon as I'm wearing clothes instead of a post-shower towel.

  • I had a strange dream about Cape Breton last night. I was going with staff and patients from some random unit at work. Apparently we were only going to be there for a couple of days and were staying in a tiny tent with very little room to move around (I think this is the result of reading more of No Man's River directly before going to sleep). We were trying to decide where to go and one of the staff (a woman who reminded me of a cross between [ profile] mr_t00by's class teacher in grades 3-8 and my psych clinicals professor) showed me a picture of somewhere I'd never heard of and said she wanted to go there. I was all, no, we have to go to Baddeck". I don't remember what was decided. Also there was a female patient (who AFAIK doesn't actually exist IRL) who was obsessed with the colour purple. Everything was purple, her notebook, her pen, her clothes.

    I remember walking around in the sunshine, and at first I thought it was summer but then there was all kinds of snow on the ground so I figured it was late winter/early spring (apparently I didn't know what season I was travelling in) I remember saying, "I can do Cape Breton in the Winter". Which I can, since I've never been there at any other time. We were also at a beach at one point, which was windy and cold.

    I woke up with an awful sense of melancholy that I couldn't quite figure out until I realized that Celtic Colours starts in two days and I will not be there. *sigh* One good thing about not going is that if I'd gone I probably wouldn't have gone to Ottawa, and that was fecking amazing (and necessary, and quite possibly catalytic). See next list item for Another Good Thing.

  • My reason for not going to Celtic Colours isn't melancholy in the least. [ profile] tapped_trish is expecting her baby on 10/17, and I went with her for her doc's appointment yesterday. [ profile] croosa was there, too. *g* I was pleasantly surprised when he said he wouldn't check her for dilation unless she wanted to be checked (she didn't). Doc Rating is now up several points.

  • Had another dream last night which I remember almost nothing about except that I'm pretty sure Diefenbaker was in it (this Diefenbaker, not the other one, because well, that would have been really really weird). Now I'm really blaming my dreams on Farley Mowat, because there are wolves in No Man's River.

  • Finally talked to [ profile] mr_t00by about reinstalling AIM. He told me which version to try. Cross your fingers, [ profile] patchfire.

  • Speaking of Ottawa (we were, honest, just a few items ago), the other day I was out for a walk around Providence (I took some pictures which I'll post as soon as I have access to a computer that can upload them) and stopped in at Cellar Stories Bookstore. I'd never been there before. It's musty and full of old shelves and tables cluttered with all sorts of books (like a really good-condition version of Lovecraft's Providence which I've wanted forever and would have bought but I didn't want to spend seventy bucks). Anyway, I found Building the Rideau Canal: A Pictorial History, in really good shape. Of course I bought it. I'm a dork, remember? Also I found an old copy of The Library of Parliament. It doesn't list a publication date, but it has to be after 1976 because it mentions the Centennial of the Library, and before August 1979 because the foreward is by John Diefenbaker (now it's the other Diefenbaker. :D), and he died on 9/17/79 (and no, I didn't know that already. I looked it UP).

  • YouTube video of the day (I should really actually post one every day, but I'll probably forget):

    Oh, Pete. *loves*

    "Waist Deep in the Big Muddy" is prophetic and is pretty much how I feel about what's happening today in Iraq.
primroseburrows: (MWB: chris black)

Another night shift, another ramble...

First off, this article makes me happy on at least three different levels:

Niv Fichman has no fear of flying.

Level 3: Blindness sounds like it could be something fantastic. It's written by Don McKellar, and check out the cast. I've seen Sandra Oh mentioned also, but not in this article. But even without her, holy Hannah, that's quite a list. There are also people from all over the world involved, too, and, um. Did I mention it's written by Don McKellar? I did? Oh. Thought so.

Level 2: Silk sounds really good as well. I love how the article says "with Keira Knightley and Callum Keith Rennie" like Callum's Keira's lead co-star (as he should be. Also, he's a heck of a better actor than Kiera and also way hotter). It looks like he could have a decent-sized part, though,. And he might not be evil or die. Does anyone know if he's evil or dies? Please, Callum, don't be evil or die.

Level 1: Passchendaele is "now casting for an Aug. 13 start date, and while it took two solid years of fundraising, all the money for the 'shamelessly Canadian' story came from Canada." Which, all things considered, is just as it should be, say thankya, although I think it's taken longer than two years.

However, um?

"...Fichman has secured the necessary financing for Paul Gross' $19-million First World War drama Passchendaele."

Excuse me. Fichman secured all of the funding? Every bit of it? As in singlehandedly? All by himself? I don't THINK so, sai. Seems to me he had just a tiny bit of assistance with this one.

Dear Playback Magazine,

Please either a.) do better research or b.) give credit where it's due. Or possibly c.) both. Or maybe this is just reprimanding by omission, in which case, cut it OUT.

Admonishingly yours,


I mean, honestly. *headdesk*

In other news, I'm going to try to actually write something after work. And after sleep, of course. Which means no Adderall for me until I do either or both. I should give my car keys to [ profile] mr_t00by for safekeeping. Of course, then he'll probably want to drive it. This is okay, mostly, because he's doing really well in that department. :)

In still other news, I've got two legs of my trip reserved lodgingwise. I'll be staying here on the 25th (and maybe the 24th if I leave early) in London and here for three nights in Toronto. [ profile] eltonroo and [ profile] duree, we should do coffee or lunch or something. I should really try to make a Jays game, but I'm already doing that at Fenway, so I guess I've got it covered. :)

I don't know where I'm staying in Ottawa, or even how long I'm staying. I don't think any of my flist lives in there, but I wish someone did because I'd love to do the stay-at-someone's-house-and-hang-out thing. That's one activity I didn't plan for on this trip, darnit.

Oh, and I had a dream about Nekkid!Ewan last night. I <3 my subconscious. :)
primroseburrows: (last night)
Another weird dream, wtf? )

And then to top everything off, my morning netsurf came up with this, which is also weird as heck but also all cracked-out satirical and made my entire day (the reasons for which probably don't need exploring at this juncture because it'd be way too scary):

True Patriot Love by [ profile] glossing

Past Shawinigan, the Trans-Canada Highway is deserted. Beneath the bloody sky - and that's not really metaphorical, as the sky had been dripping A+, half-coagulated, for a week now - a massive van, crazy-quilted with rust and the remains of various paintjobs, clatters and huffs its way east. It has the lane to itself as it rat-a-tats across the cracked asphalt, swerves to avoid remnants of the undead hordes, and guzzles gas like nobody's business.

This van is the last, shaky vessel of Can-Con. And it's running as fast as it can.

No, really, it's a whole new genre: pseudo-RPF political/satirical crackfic. I was hooked at the first line of the disclaimer: "Dude, *of course* this is made up. I swear on Stephen Harper's Evil Hidden Agenda".

All right, all right, it's been a weird morning, okay? Hmmph.

Now I need coffee and food. I have to drive to New Hampshire this evening. Ellen is feeling fine and dandy, thank you, and even goes up hills without complaining. Yay for the car doctor!

In completely other (non)news, Jimmy Rankin's voice breaks me. Guh.

Oh, here, see for yourself: Jimmy Rankin - Colorado
primroseburrows: (SA: NNW)

my subconscious is as strange as my conscious,apparently )

ETA: What does it say about me that I have edited this post about ten times and had the offhand thought of getting a beta? No, this isn't a rhetorical question. I really have no idea. Er.
primroseburrows: (Default)
I've been having really weird dreams lately, wtf? I just woke up from a dream where I was trying to play my old LP of Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, and it wouldn't play because something that looked like old varnish was bubbled and peeling from it, and it was warped. This was probably the worst dream of all recently, because I love that album!

Before that I dreamed I was (erm, how do I put this?) in a situation that would have made an interesting slashfic, only I'm not a guy and therefore am not, erm equipped? Also, the other person in question is someone with whom I'd never even consider being in such a situation (Yeah, yeah, the only thing I dream about ever that resembles sex and it's direct from Bizarro!World and isn't sexy in the least). I fail at dream!sex.

Somewhere in the mix last night I dreamt that Oldest Daughter was pregnant. I was mostly concerned with buying her a Hotsling and making sure she never entered the Baby Factory.

A couple of days ago I dreamt that Stephen Harper was one of my patients (which if true, would have explained a few things), which would have been weird enough if he actually looked like himself. But I wasn't even afforded that tiny bit of realism; no, he had to go and look like the Well-Manicured Man from the X-Files. At least I can console myself that he wasn't the person in Dream #2.

The conclusions might be:

1. Nostalgia is so thirty years ago, so get over it.

2. Fried ice cream might not have been such a good dessert. Also reading lots of con reports in a row.

3. I like Hotslings?

4. I am a giant giant dork even in my dreams.
primroseburrows: (skquarter)
I had a weird dream with a lot of weird stuff in it. But apparently it was also a comedy as well (thankfully without a laugh track). I was looking at myself in the mirror, and noticed I'd lost weight. I turned around and looked and said, woah, I've lost some in my arse, too, yay! Then I noticed another area thatI thought was too flabby, but I wasn't sure whether it was also a part of the same area. I realised it wasn't, it was the part of the back of my arm with my elbow. So I thought to myself, "I really don't know my arse from my elbow, do I?" *headdesk*

In the same dream, I was on Block Island, walking past a little building on Dodge Street (one of the main roads). Turns out MENSA had a headquarters here (in my dream anyway). It was late at night, after midnight, but the lights were on and there were people inside. I walked in and asked if they had any information on the group, and both of them gave me versions of "we're too busy, we don't feel like helping you".

Another part of the dream involved being late for a class taught by Stephen King because I couldn't find a bra that didn't hurt my back because the only one I had was worn and the hooks were broken. Also I ended up wearing someone else's shoes which were too big and I had to change them. I don't know if I ever made it to the class. The two women who were with me said, oh, it's going to be easy, and I said, I don't think so, because SK would be someone who would want us to actually learn stuff. Before that, I was walking down the street with him (SK, that is, also on Block Island, but also not on Block Island because there were Tall New Buildings. I love dreams. *g*). These are my celebrity dreams. I even lead a boring dreamlife.

I also dreamed about Fraser, but I don't know if it was part of the same dream or not. There were weird crawlspaces and rusty mechanical carousels or something, and also small containers with Adderall XR in them. Something to do with drug dealers. I don't think I was even myself here. And I never dream about Fraser (who is the closest thing to my fake!twin brother I'll ever get). I did dream I was kissing Alex Krycek once (ETA: This was years ago. Not the same dream). That was nice.

Also that Neil Gaiman was a doctor. That could have been nice as well, but he didn't talk to me much. *g*

Okay, time for work. *waves*
primroseburrows: (Default)
Belated birthday drabble for [ profile] sam80853. It's not the one I started to write. This one I did immediately after waking up from dreaming that Geoffrey, Oliver, and Ellen were all living in a house I used to own. Sort of. Dreams are funny. And I seem to remember telling people that S&A doesn't NEED fic, because it's complete and doesn't have loose ends. Which it doesn't. Er. *blames muse*

Anyway, this one's for you, kiddo, such that it is.


Drabble, 164 words, Geoffrey, Oliver )

primroseburrows: (kowalski)
Okay, so I had a veryverystrange dream last night. (No, not THAT kind of dream. I don't seem to have those, much. Really, it was Weirdy McWeird. It was so disjointed I couldn't possibly describe it in anything resembling linear fashion.

Pretty much all that I can tell you is that it involved recreating some scripted thing which may or may not have been a fantasy movie (again, not THAT kind of fantasy. *sigh* Zathras can never ever have anything nice. But that's okay. Zathras has come to expect it.) which was also something real at the same time (at least according to the dream), part of which meant that I had to keep these two guys (don't ask me who they were) awake so they wouldn't die. Because, you see, one of them HAD died in some earlier version of this real/not real scenario, and apparently my job was making sure it didn't happen again. I think one of them actually had stripey pyjamas.

The dream even had guest stars! They were:

Jake Chambers William Moseley, who was being all nineteen and pretty and just-past-jailbait as he is wont to do, except he was the male version of a mermaid and lived in a fish tank. Oh, and had pretty tattoos.

Stella Kowalski. No, not THAT Stella Kowalski. The OTHER Stella Kowalski. If I remember correctly, she was wearing a sensible blue skirt suit and didn't seem to like me very much.1

There were other things, too, like children who both were and weren't part of the real/not real/possible film thing.

[Monty Python] I am a loony.[/Monty Python]

1 Fie on the Ebil Dream Makers who give me a Kowalski and it's Stella. You must Die, Ebil Dream Makers, Die, because you are So Not Paying Attention.


primroseburrows: (Default)

October 2014



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