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I still don't have my copy of Harry Potter, so there are no spoilers in this post either.
Day two of hydrating after lots of fantastic boating over the weekend has me drinking hot wellness tea that smells of peach. It sounds odd, but when I'm attached to my computer for hours and hours I like hot liquids just to make up for the lack of movement. And at some point I make myself switch over from caffeinated beverages.
So I have six pages of science research training proposal written and it occurs to me to ponder why it feels so odd to call myself a writer. What is it about the word that has such strong connotations of fiction and a publishing firm, I wonder. I have no answers, I'm just wondering.
Clearly, seeing as how it's two o'clock, my productivity window for the day is closed, obviously. Unless there's something magical in this peachy wellness tea.
I was meandering around, as one does when one is procrastinating and waiting for the water to heat in the electric kettle, and browsing through issues of Science and Nature and such. And naturally I go straight to a fanfic place when I read the planetary science headings, which proclaim the discovery of a population of comets in the main asteroid belt differing in origin and temperature from those in the outer solar system.
Well obviously, says the fanfic part of my brain, we should be alarmed about those comets (sure, maybe it's the Asgard, you know, but Maybe It's Not.)
*sips tea*
*flips page to see the artsy side note to the aging article that shows the moon goddess Chang E who apparently stole the elixir of immortality from her husband*
Anyone else immediately think that was a painful divorce in which the moon goddess came away with the beach house and the sarcophagus? No? Just me, then.
I really think that it's highly unlikely that Sam Carter could've continued to read the big five journals; she'd have to stick to the purely theoretical physics stuff just to sleep at night. Although the applied physics topic of and integrated logic circuit assembled on a nanotube might be relatively safe.
This has set off a string of reactions in my head, though. Because obviously, see, obviously Sam would develop a Pavlovian aversion to keeping up to date on the broad science topics, because they freaked her out, but what if she missed something, right? So she'd save them all up and when the guilt got to her, she'd sit down and read them ALL in a marathon hour of title skimming and paper reading.
And woe to anyone who walked in on her before she talked herself out of the doomsday Goa'uld plots any given paper might be hinting at.
Unless it was Jonas, because Jonas would have already read all the journals in their entireties and have perfectly reasonable dialogs about each one, prompting Sam to examine the little inconsistencies in her worries and generally leaving her feeling better. Unless Jonas started offering *alternative* doomsday scenarios in a very innocent apocalyptic-video-game attitude, but I suspect that either Carter's reaction or Jack's not-so-subtle hints to Knock That Off would have put an end to that rather quickly.
Jack himself, of course, would most likely drag Carter off by her elbow to join an impromptu yo-yo contest or eat some blue jello or something, and likely he would manage to do that just when she got to where she couldn't contain the squeek of alarm every time she turned the page in the contents section.
Daniel, I expect, would be in exactly the same boat and would turn on his heel and walk out if he saw what she was doing. If it was serious, she'd come to him with the journal or email him the .pdf of the article in question and he'd research his bit of it to either confirm or dispute the theory, and that would be that. He can't afford the sympathetic blood-pressure rise, and neither can she; they have an understanding about this.
Teal'c, though, would have fascinating reactions; I bet he'd levelly handle any explanation of the article and resulting alarming theory that Sam could produce and calmly, every single time, point out that these articles are based on work several months old at least, and do not require her to produce a full-scale military response in the next fifteen minutes. Sam would, unfailingly, appreciate this levelheaded response.
He wouldn't say it to be dismissive, though, and throughout the remainder off the day (and sometimes week,) Sam would get messages in her inbox from Teal'c recounting a memory he had just recalled that was mildly to highly related to their discussion. The accounting of the many varied and creative destructions of the Goa'uld would invariably leave Sam with no other way to respond than "wow." She pointed that out when Jack asked why she and Teal'c were emailing each other from two floors away, intending it to illustrate the incredibly tactful way Teal'c presented them with the atrocities of his past (without requiring validation, or forgiveness, without requiring a response of any kind.) Jack, though, persistently pointed out the absurdities in the arrangement, as well as the formal address and storytelling phrases Teal'c used, and began referring to the emails as his 'this one time, in band camp...' stories. He still read them whenever Sam felt he should, though, and sometimes took a good minute or two to process before reverting to juvenile humor. It was sometimes important to Sam to share; it was always nice to laugh at her own fears.
And Sam never actually decided any of her doomsday theories were ultimately viable. So, there's that.
I should go back to work, but Katie's Wandering Blind is calling me. (In a little bitty fanfic voice. "Minx!" It says, "Miiiiiiiiiiiinx....")
So I have six pages of science research training proposal written and it occurs to me to ponder why it feels so odd to call myself a writer. What is it about the word that has such strong connotations of fiction and a publishing firm, I wonder. I have no answers, I'm just wondering.
Clearly, seeing as how it's two o'clock, my productivity window for the day is closed, obviously. Unless there's something magical in this peachy wellness tea.
I was meandering around, as one does when one is procrastinating and waiting for the water to heat in the electric kettle, and browsing through issues of Science and Nature and such. And naturally I go straight to a fanfic place when I read the planetary science headings, which proclaim the discovery of a population of comets in the main asteroid belt differing in origin and temperature from those in the outer solar system.
Well obviously, says the fanfic part of my brain, we should be alarmed about those comets (sure, maybe it's the Asgard, you know, but Maybe It's Not.)
*sips tea*
*flips page to see the artsy side note to the aging article that shows the moon goddess Chang E who apparently stole the elixir of immortality from her husband*
Anyone else immediately think that was a painful divorce in which the moon goddess came away with the beach house and the sarcophagus? No? Just me, then.
I really think that it's highly unlikely that Sam Carter could've continued to read the big five journals; she'd have to stick to the purely theoretical physics stuff just to sleep at night. Although the applied physics topic of and integrated logic circuit assembled on a nanotube might be relatively safe.
This has set off a string of reactions in my head, though. Because obviously, see, obviously Sam would develop a Pavlovian aversion to keeping up to date on the broad science topics, because they freaked her out, but what if she missed something, right? So she'd save them all up and when the guilt got to her, she'd sit down and read them ALL in a marathon hour of title skimming and paper reading.
And woe to anyone who walked in on her before she talked herself out of the doomsday Goa'uld plots any given paper might be hinting at.
Unless it was Jonas, because Jonas would have already read all the journals in their entireties and have perfectly reasonable dialogs about each one, prompting Sam to examine the little inconsistencies in her worries and generally leaving her feeling better. Unless Jonas started offering *alternative* doomsday scenarios in a very innocent apocalyptic-video-game attitude, but I suspect that either Carter's reaction or Jack's not-so-subtle hints to Knock That Off would have put an end to that rather quickly.
Jack himself, of course, would most likely drag Carter off by her elbow to join an impromptu yo-yo contest or eat some blue jello or something, and likely he would manage to do that just when she got to where she couldn't contain the squeek of alarm every time she turned the page in the contents section.
Daniel, I expect, would be in exactly the same boat and would turn on his heel and walk out if he saw what she was doing. If it was serious, she'd come to him with the journal or email him the .pdf of the article in question and he'd research his bit of it to either confirm or dispute the theory, and that would be that. He can't afford the sympathetic blood-pressure rise, and neither can she; they have an understanding about this.
Teal'c, though, would have fascinating reactions; I bet he'd levelly handle any explanation of the article and resulting alarming theory that Sam could produce and calmly, every single time, point out that these articles are based on work several months old at least, and do not require her to produce a full-scale military response in the next fifteen minutes. Sam would, unfailingly, appreciate this levelheaded response.
He wouldn't say it to be dismissive, though, and throughout the remainder off the day (and sometimes week,) Sam would get messages in her inbox from Teal'c recounting a memory he had just recalled that was mildly to highly related to their discussion. The accounting of the many varied and creative destructions of the Goa'uld would invariably leave Sam with no other way to respond than "wow." She pointed that out when Jack asked why she and Teal'c were emailing each other from two floors away, intending it to illustrate the incredibly tactful way Teal'c presented them with the atrocities of his past (without requiring validation, or forgiveness, without requiring a response of any kind.) Jack, though, persistently pointed out the absurdities in the arrangement, as well as the formal address and storytelling phrases Teal'c used, and began referring to the emails as his 'this one time, in band camp...' stories. He still read them whenever Sam felt he should, though, and sometimes took a good minute or two to process before reverting to juvenile humor. It was sometimes important to Sam to share; it was always nice to laugh at her own fears.
And Sam never actually decided any of her doomsday theories were ultimately viable. So, there's that.
I should go back to work, but Katie's Wandering Blind is calling me. (In a little bitty fanfic voice. "Minx!" It says, "Miiiiiiiiiiiinx....")
no subject
i love it when you get all sciency.
no subject
I believe the word you're looking for is 'procrastinate-y'.