9.16.05: Big Among Dyslexics ‹ Blog

What you both need is a jolly good murder!
Sam, to Foyle and Milner, Foyle’s War

Big Among Dyslexics

September 16, 2005

It’s odd: I’m one of the most offensive and irreverent people you’re likely to meet, and yet I still don’t see the point of insult t-shirts—you know, like It’s Happy Bunny and such. Sure, those are funny sayings, and I can see where you might want to put a sticker on your locker or give the lipgloss to a friend as a joke, but wearing a shirt that insults every random person looking in your direction? Kind of pointless, that. Seems like it would be better to wear the insult tee under a button-up shirt, and then rip it open a là Superman when you come across, say, your dumbass ex-boyfriend. Wearing it as a general insult seems a bit... immature.

But then, you’re talking to someone who giggles every time she sees the phrase “rock cod”. A little dyslexia is a good thing sometimes.

In other news, tonight is the night that my local PBS station begins airing Foyle’s War, Season III. Actually, they aired it on PBS Channel 2 last Sunday, but since my Channel 2 reception is fuzzy at best, I thought it better to wait for the Friday night repeat on Channel 17. Delaying my Foylian gratification is something I have become very good at, considering that this latest series has taken almost a year to make its way over the pond. I hate that they do this to all us die-hard Foyle fans. We want to know how Milner and his wife are doing! We want to know what antics Sam’s been up to! We want to know how the war ends, dammit!

Tonight, however, there will be great celebration in this fan’s household. There will be sumptuous feasting and candle-lighting and inviting over of mothers who live across the hall and who, while not sharing said fan’s obsessive worship of all things Michael Kitchen, can still appreciate a good man when she sees one. (Or two, in deference to Anthony Howell.) Yea, and there will be fangirl squeeing long into the night. Amen.

The part of the day that has not been spent working or squeeing has been spent designing my husband’s new site, which is the rather scarily-named rule.tv—scarily-named, but also aptly-named, as my husband is the reincarnation of both Caesar (but which one?) and Napoleon and he wants to take over the world. Don’t worry, though; if by some odd fluke he does manage to gain global power, I’ll keep him in check.

While we’re on the subject of web sites, I was quite interested by Jem’s post on the urge to professionalize one’s personal site. I’ve gone through the same dilemma myself—always refining my site because it might be viewed by clients, and so on. For a few years, I viewed my site (and even my little sub-site projects) as commercials for my mad skillz, as if someone would look at one of my fanlistings and say, “Gosh! I just have to have her design my site for me!” It could happen—actually, it has happened. But that’s just a side bonus, not the main purpose of my personal space. I’ve reached a point where I don’t really care if any clients, potential or otherwise, stumble across my site and are offended by what they see or read. I might enjoy dead baby jokes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job(s), and that I don’t know how to comport myself professionally. I haven’t told a dead baby joke to a client in, oh, months.