dear Hogfather, for Hogswatch I want...
Sunday, 10 December 2006 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
OMG! Sky is making a TV version of Hogfather! One that is (a) Pratchett-approved, (b) talks continually about being faithful to the book, and (c) has, judging by their pictures, an almost pitch-perfect cast. Which reminds me, has anyone actually seen the animated versions of Soul Music and Wyrd Sisters? Were they any good? *wishlists on the offchance*
I feel that my experience at the Friendly Psychologist's birthday party last night is a metaphor for something, although I'm not quite sure what. Standing in a corner and working up the courage to talk to strangers, I found myself fingering the hem of my new Indian cotton top with the traily sleeves. Strangely, there were little bumpy things all over the inside. Intrigued, I repaired to the bathroom and removed said top, only to discover that the little bumpy things were sequinned patterns and that, blissfully unaware of them, I'd been wearing the damned thing inside-out since I bought it. I realise this may come across as a more than usually egregious case of academic absent-mindedness, but there are factors in mitigation: not only is all the hemming with fancy machine-embroidery actually reversible, but the shop had the blouse inside-out on the hangar, and, as a clincher, the size tag is sewn cheerfully onto the outside. I feel that this basic confusion, or rather ineradicable conflation, of surface with substance is both intrinsically postmodern, and horribly indicative of my life at the moment. Clothes, so important.
Good party, though.
I feel that my experience at the Friendly Psychologist's birthday party last night is a metaphor for something, although I'm not quite sure what. Standing in a corner and working up the courage to talk to strangers, I found myself fingering the hem of my new Indian cotton top with the traily sleeves. Strangely, there were little bumpy things all over the inside. Intrigued, I repaired to the bathroom and removed said top, only to discover that the little bumpy things were sequinned patterns and that, blissfully unaware of them, I'd been wearing the damned thing inside-out since I bought it. I realise this may come across as a more than usually egregious case of academic absent-mindedness, but there are factors in mitigation: not only is all the hemming with fancy machine-embroidery actually reversible, but the shop had the blouse inside-out on the hangar, and, as a clincher, the size tag is sewn cheerfully onto the outside. I feel that this basic confusion, or rather ineradicable conflation, of surface with substance is both intrinsically postmodern, and horribly indicative of my life at the moment. Clothes, so important.
Good party, though.
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Date: Sunday, 10 December 2006 01:37 pm (UTC)