Saturday on the Electronic Midway

Anybody out there have a monitor with which they'd be willing to part? My ancient monitor is making dubious noises every time I turn it on-a vibrato, Jacobian sizzle that reminds me of Victor Frankenstein's mad lab. If you do, we can work out a payment plan. If not, I'll just have to hie myself unto the Best Buy and pray the Ancient doesn't explode until February. Actually, I'd like a laptop, but that's not in the cards.

Things I've Done Today:

-sat around in state of undress

-left feedback for stellaluna_'s "Outlook Hazy, Try Again Later"

-taken Prilosec and Cipro

-listened to Pat Benatar

Scintillating, I know. At least the feedback can be construed as productive. I've been making a conscientious effort to review the fic I read since I realized how hypocritical it was and is of me to bemoan a lack of feedback when I'm miserly with it myself. If a fic is truly atrocious, I'll keep quiet; I don't want to hurt anyone, and the last time I offered crit on a bad, bad, bad Snapefic, the author accused me of cruelly stalking her. I don't need the flailing drama, so I stopped leaving feedback for the sake of my sanity.

However, the new approach seems to be working. I begin with what worked and end with what didn't, and I try to explain why it didn't. So far, no teeth-gnashing harpies have descended upon me. In fact, no one has said anything whatsoever, and that works for me, though if a fellow ficcer wants to talk shop, I'm all for it.

In summary, I am naked, drugged, and about to play Toobin', Smash TV, or Root Beer Tapper. Old arcade games rock.