Here's an entry for the worst date ever.
Thankfully, I wasn't a participant. She's a friend from work, so we'll just call her WorkingGirl -- a convenient, neutral term. WorkingGirl enjoyed a 6 week romance with one of the many damn fools who have no idea what the hell they want in relationships. He finally decided -- after successfully demanding she remove her nipple rings and gods know what else -- that he might maybe pretty sure wanted to be back with his ex-something. E-mails ensued in which he made clear he didn't want to see her again, so on and so forth.
WorkingGirl claims not to be vengeful, but she routed an mp3 destroying virus his way anyhow, lightening his hard drive by a gig or two.
Then the pregnancy test turned up positive. I'll skip to the present except to say that much amusement arose from two of WorkingGirl's friends work with (and in one case *over*) the confused erstwhile loverboy.
WorkingGirl plays the match.com dating game, with some success (if success means a stream of relentlessly dull or unclean men in uniform that keep her in free dinners over the course of a week). One such date, having just lost a friend to a work-related accident which he supervised, was considerably shit-faced. WorkingGirl drove the pair from dinner when...the bleeding began.
He sobered up pretty quickly at that point.
So, into the annals of dating disasters, add: post-meal miscarriage.
WorkingGirl is suffering from a confusing mix of hormones right now, but we still managed a good laugh over it.
The Dreaming
I dream, often. Recent dreams include being a refugee from Battlestar Galactica under attack by a tsunami, having to teach a class on role-playing, and various bizarre images too jumbled to relay.
My favorite dream of recent years involved the Greek Muses. In this vignette, I was at a house party with faceless others. Through a third person view, I saw the Muses rise from the earth, and they were pissed. Pissed at the world for its abuse of art, history, music, science, drama and so on. And so they came to hurt the world, starting with those of us at the party. Melpominee in particular was beautifully psychotic, ready to splash the walls with blood and knives.
The dream was too brief, but proved inspirational. I wrote some dialogue, used it in a game of Mage: the Ascension, and think it would make entertaining Sci-Fi Channel series fare. Pissed off Grecian goddesses of arts and letters adapting to modern life and passing ruthless judgment on talentless hacks warping the fruits of their dominions? Fun!
More dreaming adventures later.
-TTm
Thankfully, I wasn't a participant. She's a friend from work, so we'll just call her WorkingGirl -- a convenient, neutral term. WorkingGirl enjoyed a 6 week romance with one of the many damn fools who have no idea what the hell they want in relationships. He finally decided -- after successfully demanding she remove her nipple rings and gods know what else -- that he might maybe pretty sure wanted to be back with his ex-something. E-mails ensued in which he made clear he didn't want to see her again, so on and so forth.
WorkingGirl claims not to be vengeful, but she routed an mp3 destroying virus his way anyhow, lightening his hard drive by a gig or two.
Then the pregnancy test turned up positive. I'll skip to the present except to say that much amusement arose from two of WorkingGirl's friends work with (and in one case *over*) the confused erstwhile loverboy.
WorkingGirl plays the match.com dating game, with some success (if success means a stream of relentlessly dull or unclean men in uniform that keep her in free dinners over the course of a week). One such date, having just lost a friend to a work-related accident which he supervised, was considerably shit-faced. WorkingGirl drove the pair from dinner when...the bleeding began.
He sobered up pretty quickly at that point.
So, into the annals of dating disasters, add: post-meal miscarriage.
WorkingGirl is suffering from a confusing mix of hormones right now, but we still managed a good laugh over it.
The Dreaming
I dream, often. Recent dreams include being a refugee from Battlestar Galactica under attack by a tsunami, having to teach a class on role-playing, and various bizarre images too jumbled to relay.
My favorite dream of recent years involved the Greek Muses. In this vignette, I was at a house party with faceless others. Through a third person view, I saw the Muses rise from the earth, and they were pissed. Pissed at the world for its abuse of art, history, music, science, drama and so on. And so they came to hurt the world, starting with those of us at the party. Melpominee in particular was beautifully psychotic, ready to splash the walls with blood and knives.
The dream was too brief, but proved inspirational. I wrote some dialogue, used it in a game of Mage: the Ascension, and think it would make entertaining Sci-Fi Channel series fare. Pissed off Grecian goddesses of arts and letters adapting to modern life and passing ruthless judgment on talentless hacks warping the fruits of their dominions? Fun!
More dreaming adventures later.
-TTm
Thanks for the comment on my set!