~ Commander William "Husker" Adama
I'm sorry I've been kind of absent lately. What can I say? Even cowgirls get the blues. Or to put it another way, life has been kicking old Diana in the rear pretty routinely the last few weeks. In the wake of my intense ungoodness, it's hard to feel motivated by anything, even my lovely perfume. It isn't that my beautiful collection hasn't been a comfort, a succor, a relief. It has. Today I wore Olympic Orchids Carolina, and even when I was crying, it helped. Sadly, though, it is not enough. Some days, it just isn't.
|What I learned watching BSG:|
Do not listen to the voices in your
head, esp. if they make out with you.
But not right now. For now I'm going to nurse this figurative small tear in the surface of my heart and my strained ego and the very real pain in my lower back (thank the Twelve Gods of Kobol for heating pads) and watch some more Battlestar Galactica. No matter how bad things are, I can always remind myself that it could be worse.
After all, I could be Gaius Baltar.
Now, kick back, relax and ponder this: if you were creating a race of AI robots that eventually evolved to appear virtually indistinguishable from humans, what would those Cylons smell like?
They have a plan.