My romantic nature is florid, verbose, and generally unnecessary.
We submitted to MS and Sony on Friday. It’s done. One more notch and another credit. I can’t explain it, but seeing my name in the credits appeals to me. I don’t care who else sees it. I joke that in spite of everything, I have the list of credits to my name. Almost nine years now. Whether I stay in this industry or go elsewheres, there they are. I suspect it’s the written aspect of it. My history documented, like names in a census. I existed. There’s a trace to follow. That’s important.
I’ve been writing various things and getting adulation for it. Bitches love writing. Though I don’t like their written forthrightness. It repels me from people I’d otherwise like to meet. When you contact someone you’re setting a precedent. Be kind, I suppose, but don’t take it seriously. You like me? That’s fine. Show me when I’m sitting across from you at an obligatory coffee meet/date.
Speaking of nerds, I’m taking a girl out on a date to see The Hobbit on my birthday.