September 30, 2003
Once again, Sars manages to say something directly that I've been trying to formulate into words for ages.
Are you a feminist? If you're reading my journal, chances are good that yes, you are.
September 29, 2003
Dull day. Down day. Blah
Dull day. Down day. Blah day. I just couldn't seem to get anything going all day. I spent the morning alternating between sleeping and staring at the television, then spent the afternoon staring at the computer. Obviously, no writing got done. Not much of anything else got done. I did manage to cook dinner, at least, and that was a pretty successful experiment (baked portobello mushroom caps topped with salsa, cheese, and some veggies).
This evening? Enh. I can tell that I'm fairly depressed, but I'm not sad, exactly. I'm not anything. I need to get up tomorrow morning and exercise. That will help. I need to sit down and write, whether I think I can focus on it or not. That will help too. Also going to get out of the house, maybe go to Borders or the library. It's just the whole fall/October thing, but as it is right now, I can still probably avert a total nosedive.
September 27, 2003
How tech support really works
Nothing makes a tech support rep more determined to solve your problem than impugning their ability to do so. Particularly if you understand how tech support works. Their job is to fix your problem without ever really telling you what the problem was, lest you get the idea that their service or product is unreliable.
Our charter.net email has been down for over a week. First they said they were doing an upgrade, then they said that the upgrade was finished, and everything was fixed. Except it wasn't. Our email addresses no longer existed. Worse, we couldn't log in to set them up again. When I called and talked to "John" this afternoon, my patience was pretty well worn away, particularly after nearly ten minutes spent listening to a message apologizing for their "high call volume". Folks, I worked tech support. When you get a message apologizing for "high call volume", that's management-speak for "we broke something big, and the whole world is calling us about it".
John asked for our email logins and passwords. I said, "Are you going to go set the email accounts up again? Because I just tried that and we can't log in to our main account."
"Oh," he says, clearly planning to go do just that and not tell me that the email addresses got deleted in the first place. "Please hold." ("Please hold" is tech support-speak for "fuck, I'm in over my head".) After more messages apologizing for breaking their system, he comes back to tell me that he can't fix the problem, but he emailed someone who can, and it should be fixed soon.
Me: "Can you define soon for me?"
John: "No, I can't."
Me: "Are we talking an hour, a week?"
John: "I don't know."
Here's where I start getting pissed. I ask if this mysterious person is the only person in all of Charter Communications who can fix this problem. He says yes. He proceeds to give me a bunch of technical jargon about the problem in an attempt to intimidate me. Unfortunately for him, I understand very clearly that his jargon means, "We did an upgrade and the database didn't transfer properly and we lost some accounts." I waste no time in translating it back to him. Here's where he starts getting pissed.
I ask for this mysterious miracle guy's name. He won't tell me. I ask for his name, and he tells me, unwillingly. I ask for his manager's name. Again, he tells me unwillingly, and offers to transfer me to "Ram", the manager. I say no. We hang up, unhappy customer and unhappy tech support guy.
Fifteen minutes later he calls back and tells me the problem is fixed.
You know, when I did tech support, I always hated the customers who were actually computer savvy. Worse than the morons who didn't know their CD drive from their floppy drive. Because you could snow the morons and the mediocre. You couldn't snow the ones who knew a little about computers. I have become what I hated. Mwahaha.
September 26, 2003
should appreciate this quiz
You belong in the Cat Who Walks Through Walls. You
are creative and cunning. Your works often
feel empty to you, though others love them.
You suspect that the universe and everyone in
it are just characters in someone else's story.
Which Heinlein Book Should You Have Been A Character In?
brought to you by Quizilla
A note about my craptacular day:
It got better.
Of course, it got better after I had a flat tire and wound up sitting beside US-23 for half an hour, and after I had to swallow my pride about my mom buying a set of tires for my car. But it got better. Buffy was both remarkably plotless and hysterically funny tonight. I think my favorite exchange, which sort of summed up the mindset for the whole session was:
Mer: Uh, because it's a roleplaying game?
I have a headache from laughing, but I am also supremely tired. I feel at peace again, which can only be a good thing.
September 25, 2003
Some days the chair feels wrong. Don't get me wrong. I have a great chair. It's a $1450 chair that I got for $80 (no, I didn't miss a decimal point there, that's fourteen hundred dollars). But some days, it's the wrong chair. Logic would suggest that I move. But no, damn it. My butt has to be in this chair every day. Them's the rules.
Some days it's physical. I'm too tired to sit in the chair. I'm too restless to sit in the chair. Other days, it's psychological. I'm not good enough to sit in the chair. I'm wasting my time sitting in the chair. Some days it's a combination of both.
Sometimes on those days, I make myself sit in the chair anyway--cause them's the rules. On those days, I bitch and whine a lot. I sit in the chair and stare blankly into cyberspace until my time is up, like a recalcitrant therapy patient. But it doesn't matter, because I'm sitting in the chair. After all, I know people who dream about sitting in this chair; I damn well better appreciate it.
And I do. I just need to stop being so rigid about it. Getting my butt in the chair every day is a big priority. Climbing into the chair every day is what gives me some structure, some purpose in what would otherwise be my great big unemployed life. But it doesn't have to be exactly the same thing every day, and I can't understand now how I got so hung up on it. My butt's gotta be in a chair every day. Them's the rules. It just doesn't always have to be the same chair.
I think I'm going to go find another chair and see if I can't do more than spend the afternoon staring blankly.
This is turning into the
This is turning into the day where I curl up in bed and read and snooze all day. I got up this morning and did my usual morning thing, then sat down at the computer at 9, as always. Rewrote a story (only three pages long, so it's not that big a deal) and resubmitted it and another story. Then I opened up the novel and tried to get to work and... nothing. I hate days like this. It's not that I can't write, it's not that I can't think of what happens next, it's like... 'why bother?' I can't muster up the motivation to think hard enough to figure out what happens next. I really hate days like this. I end up out of sorts and grouchy.
Weird, yesterday it was cold and cloudy and I was a bundle of energy. Today it's bright and sunny (if still chilly) and all I can think about is a warm pile of blankets and brainlessness. It's like I'm ready to be finished with this novel, and I'm not ready to be finished with it. On the one hand, I'm getting tired. I want to focus on something else. But on the other hand, once I finish it, what am I going to focus on?
And somewhere in here there's supposed to be a job, but my resumes may as well be going out into outer space for all the response I'm getting. *sigh*
September 24, 2003
Be afraid, be very afraid...
Category Your Score Average LJer Community Attachment 43.01%
There's a party in your comments page, and everyone's invited!
28.53% MemeSheepage 54.39%
I am but one quiz among millions. My brethren surround me on the page.
30.75% Original Content 64.52%
Newsweek, People, and roane's journal
44.7% Psychodrama Quotient 30.12%
Known to go off without warning
17.3% Attention Whoring 45.45%
You'd sell your mother for another three friends
24.6% Your LiveJournal Obsession Number is:
Click it to see other users who had similar scores to yours!
I need to see Velvet
I need to see Velvet Goldmine again. I'm apparently developing a strange fascination with 70s glam rock--or at least, with pretty boys in makeup. Well okay, Ewan McGregor in makeup. Singing, even.
Grar. This is so not what I need to be focusing on this morning.
September 23, 2003
Sent to me via email
If only Sam and Frodo had had the internet...
(Oh yeah, check the disclaimer at the bottom. Hee.)
September 22, 2003
Mer: or, alright, as it is spelled by the picky and the correct
Me: Actually, I think according to Strunk and White it's "all right". :-)
Mer: Hm. For real writing, yes. The dictionary does list "alright" as informalese. And for an instant message, it's all kinds of all right. LOL! (g)
Mer: You realize you just edited an IM, right? ;-)
Me: It wouldn't be the first time. ;-)
Me: Besides, hello, Ms. Expletive Infix.
Mer: ... yes?
Mer: or rather, y-fuck-es?
September 20, 2003
So uh... what's the last thing in the world you'd expect me to do?
I needed to get my hair cut. The ends were getting icky and it was just generally a mess. I thought I'd maybe go for something a little different this time, maybe some long layers or something, but nothing drastic.
Off to the salon this afternoon. The hairstylist pointed out that long layers on hair as long as mine wouldn't really change anything.
"How short would it have to be for layers to work?" says I.
"About to your shoulderblades."
I am puzzled by this. "How long is it now?"
"Almost to your waist," says she.
She was exaggerating, a bit. It was about halfway down my back. Yeah. I used the past tense there, didn't I. I figured, wait a minute, if I don't know how long my hair is, then it's time to get it cut, because clearly I'm not paying attention.
Ignore the goofy look on my face. I think I was still thinking, "Oh my god. I cut my hair." All told, she cut off about six inches. Maybe 7 or 8, it's hard to judge. My head feels lighter. My hair is all bouncy now. I'm in shock. Happy shock, but shock.
Guess I should change my user picture, huh?
Signs you might be a little too focused on rewriting...
I had a dream this morning right before I woke up. I was getting married, I don't know to who, it's irrelevant for this dream. The minister handed me a book for me to read a passage aloud. I think it was along the lines of me asking the future Mr. Nichols if he would have and hold me til death or the State of Michigan us did part.
I didn't like the way the passage was worded. I was trying to rewrite it in my head before I read it at my wedding. I was editing my wedding, for gods' sakes.
September 19, 2003
Mock us at your peril!!
The current #1 selling DVD at amazon.com is "Firefly - The Complete Series". NUMBER ONE.
We are strong. We are mighty. We are geeks. And we have more disposable income than you do.
(Well, except for me, at the moment. Some interesting info here. It shot from 7,196 to 1 since yesterday.)
If you're not reading Big
If you're not reading Big Fat Blog, why aren't you? Even if you don't agree with what's there, there's some interesting news out there.
For instance, Arkansas is going to start sending out "health report cards" with students' BMI (body mass index, calculated by height and weight). Boston's already been doing it, and the end result? According to the folks who put it into practice, it "did not change some unhealthful behaviors." Reading between the lines, the kids didn't get skinnier. What they got, I am sure, is a strong slam to their self esteem and a nice big dose of humiliation at the hands of their classmates. "Ha ha, the school says you're too fat!"
*growl* Nothing punches my buttons faster than supposed adults handling the issue of obesity in childhood so poorly.
This has been a test...
I had a tough time falling asleep. I finally managed, only to be woken out of a deep, restful coma by Pooka. Making bloodcurdling noises. In the living room, which is at the other end of the apartment..
At first I thought, "Wow, Rumpus must really be torturing her." Then I realized Rumpus was on the bed with me. Three-point-four seconds later, Pooka came barrelling into the bedroom, leapt up on to the bed, and stared fixedly out the window, her hackles raised, her tail as big around as my wrist.
Point seven seconds after that, she darted back to the doorwall in the living room and made sounds vaguely resembling a demon in a blender. By now I was getting creeped out, so I peeked out of the blinds to see what was outside. Either there was nothing out there, or Satan was hiding in the shadows where only feline eyes could reach, mocking me.
Or Pooka was just testing to see if my fight-or-flight instinct was working. Yup. All systems go here, Houston. I am never going to sleep again. Ever.
(If this had been an actual emergency, the signal you just heard would have been followed by the cats scrambling to hide under the bed. This concludes the test of the Feline Emergency Broadcast System.)
September 18, 2003
What's wrong with this picture?
10. Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The (2003)
9. American Wedding (2003)
8. Animal House (1978)
7. Finding Nemo (2003)
6. "Family Guy" (1999)
5. "Simpsons, The" (1989)
4. Office Space (1999)
3. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
2. Old School (2003)
1. Anal Adventures of Suzy Super Slut 2 (1995) (V)
For anyone who's gone through childbirth. How'd you feel, physically, about two weeks afterwards? Ready to get back to your old activities? Also, did you have any restrictions on your activities, like lifting and such? I could probably look something up online, but I'm more interested in anecdotal information. I have a character who had a baby two weeks prior, and I want an idea of how she's feeling right about now.
If you don't want to post an answer for all to read, feel free to email me.
Hitting the wall
Restless and irritable this morning. I still don't know what's up with my shoulder, but I'm profoundly tired of it always feeling like it's on the verge of a cramp. It hurts, and I'm tired of it. I'm working on a raging case of carpal tunnel as well, to judge by the way my hands are aching and tingling every morning when I get up. I shouldn't be typing. But I can't not write at this point. I'm so close to finishing, but I can't think half the time because it hurts, damn it.
My workstation is as ergonomic as I can make it. There are two major problems. The first is that I don't have an ergonomic body. In order for me to reach the keyboard, I have to reach out and around my belly. But even that, really, isn't that much of a problem, because I'm used to that. The real problem right now is that Rumpus shorted out my ergonomic keyboard earlier this year and I haven't been able to replace it. There's a rumor I may get one for Christmas, but that doesn't help my wrists and shoulder now.
Whine whine bitch bitch. I think I'm just ready to finish the novel already. If I was a long distance runner (*snort!*), I'd say I was hitting the wall. I'm getting tired. Even though I'm excited about writing still, I'm getting short of breath finally. Harder to keep pushing.
So okay. I'm thinking of cutting out all extraneous typing for a bit. That includes LJ posts, IMs, email. The writing has to stay. If I tried to stop that at this point, my brain would go into full revolt. (Not to mention, I think
September 17, 2003
My mom called on her
My mom called on her way home from work.
"I saw your journal today. You really stirred up some shit, didn't you?"
"I did. It felt good."
Fair warning: I'm thinking a lot about this subject now. There may be considerable posting on it. If it gets too obnoxious, I'll filter to spare the uninterested.
I forgot how much I
I forgot how much I like celery. Fresh vegetables in general, in fact. Because, when when you tell yourself that's all you can have to eat, it loses a lot of its appeal.
Must remove the distinction between "diet food" and "regular food".
September 16, 2003
What was that old diet slogan? Stop the insanity!
So here's the deal.
I've noticed lately that I've been getting angrier and angrier whenever the subject of obesity has come up on the news. Or on the web."Don't these people know?!" I rant. "Don't they know that you can be fat and fit? I've done it! (I'm not right now, but...)" If you've followed this journal for any length of time, or known me for any length of time, you've heard this particular verse and chorus before.
Today was particularly trying for me. Two people that I care very much about announced that they wanted to lose weight. I had a lot of personal reactions to this that were completely unconnected with their decisions. I felt angry. I felt betrayed. I felt a whole lot of things that had nothing to do with either person's health or body size.
It's time for me to stop being angry and stop ranting about size acceptance and do something about it. I keep saying, "People can be both fat and fit," but by god, you can't tell it by looking at me. It's time to put my money where my mouth is. (And my mouth, by the way, is not always wrapped around a doughnut, thankyouverymuchpopularmedia.)
We can't be the only people looking for support in making some changes. So, after our talk tonight,
Here's what I see: everyone who's interested in this Anti-Ultimate Weight Loss Challenge, sign up for the community. For six weeks, at least to start, everyone pick one or two fitness goals. There are some rules about these goals. They may not involve weight loss. They may not involve restricting calories. Or fat grams. Or carbs. I'm talking concrete goals. For me, for example, I'd like to work on my t'ai chi and QiGong daily (or at the very least, six days a week). I'm shooting for 40 minutes a day (twenty minutes of each), but if I get one or the other in each day, I can live with that. I'd also like to include three ten minute walks a week. For a severe couch potato like me, I think this is reasonable. In terms of my diet, I'd like to concentrate on, for starters, getting the five recommended daily servings of fruits and vegetables.
See? No diet. No weight loss. Healthier habits. I propose that for six weeks, community members can post their progress on their goals, get support, celebrate milestones, whatever, without succumbing to the notion that fitness goals can only be measured on a scale or with a tape measure. Without guilt. If it goes well and if people are interested, maybe the second six weeks can be spent on new fitness goals. Who knows?
It's time I stopped talking and started living up to my activism. Who wants to join in?
I don't know whether to laugh or cry...
The local NBC affiliate is doing its own weight-loss challenge to mirror the whole Dr. Phil thing. Their participants are incredibly sad, all people who think they can't have a whole life unless they lose weight. I watched the segment and got angrier and angrier, irrationally angry, which is my knee-jerk reaction to these things.
The camera switched back to the anchor woman who said, "It's the fastest growing crime in the United States." The placard over her shoulder read, "Ultimate Weight Loss Challenge".
How very true.
September 15, 2003
I'm just a reading fool....
I updated the book blog tonight, based on the two books I finished reading over the weekend. Funny, once I quit trying to read fiction, I've fairly blazed through books. I'll be kind of glad when the novel is finished, I'm chomping at the bit to read some of the fiction I've got waiting on my shelves.
Today was an excellent day all around. I crossed the 70,000 word mark on The Exile's Daughter, and feel like I'm rounding for home (which is not precisely true, but I'm probably at least sliding for third).
Dinner was an experiment which was largely successful: leftover pork tenderloin cooked into a rice pilaf with portobello mushrooms, celery, carrots, and peas. We desperately need lids for the skillets though, the rice was a little crunchy. Did I mention that I'm still really enjoying cooking? I like playing. It's like a combination science project/art work.
For now, I'm off to do my nightly thing (translation: either my PM chi tape or the QiGong routine that's in my book, one or the other). Tomorrow I have to go to the library, so hopefully I'll get some work done there--maybe I've broken my bad luck as far as library work goes.
September 13, 2003
I dunno what's up, but
I dunno what's up, but I've been completely wiped out for days. My first thought was that I stayed up too late for too many nights in a row, so I involuntarily took most of Friday off, and voluntarily took it easy today as well. No writing, and believe you me, I'm getting antsy about that--but at the same time, I'm still tired. So today I read and lazed, mostly. Still tired.
Interestingly, the book I'm reading (The Complete Idiot's Guide to T'ai Chi and QiGong--I'm not proud) says that people are often tired and bored for a short time after starting t'ai chi because of adrenaline withdrawal. I dunno. I've never seen myself as a particularly adrenaline-driven person. More likely, I think I'm fighting some low-level bug or another, cause Mom says she's had the same assorted blahness going on.
We'll see how tomorrow is. I'm supposed to go gaming, but that doesn't seem likely, if I keep feeling so eh.
September 12, 2003
Geh, I hate that
I woke up, sat down to watch Buffy for a few minutes, and promptly fell asleep in my chair (ah well, at least it wasn't the couch this time, Mer) until about ten minutes ago. Not only is my schedule all off now, but I'm groggy and disoriented. Completely not alert and ready to write. And Rumpus is being an unholy terror this morning, so I'm ready to kill him. Grr.
September 11, 2003
The worst thing...
...about cooking in a slow cooker when you're home all day is smelling the food cooking . All day. I have been smelling round steak with vegetables in an oniony mushroom gravy since 9 am this morning. This morning it was a vaguely off-putting smell. For about the last hour or so, it's been smelling like heaven. I can't breathe without drooling on myself.
Also, I feel compelled to note that I am avoiding the media today. Call me a coward, but last year's anniversary memorials brought me down for days. I'm avoiding that this year. However, I do feel compelled to pass this along. If you read Tomato Nation, then you know that Sars lives in New York. She was one of the many who watched the towers fall, and wrote an incredibly moving entry about it. Part of her story involved the kindness of a stranger, a man she'd never met before and that she hasn't seen since. She'd like to thank him. So, if you can, help Sars find Don.
September 10, 2003
Oh dear god
I just saw a commercial for Special K that tells folks they could lose a pant size in 3 weeks ("are you ready for fall fashions?" they ask) simply by replacing two meals a day with a bowl of cereal. Is this because Special K is a magical weight loss cereal? Of course not, but that's what's implied.
Special K has officially joined Subway in the "Buy more of our product and you will become magically skinny!" hall of shame. The newest way to increase your sales is to tout your product--whatever your product is--as a way to lose weight. How long before toothpaste and dish detergent can make us skinny?
It's so blatantly obvious. You'd think that people would see through it. You know, some reasoning process that says, "Hey, they're only telling me this so I double the amount of their cereal I buy in a week!" But it doesn't happen, because those commercials come during news reports that trumpet hysterical figures about how obesity is killing us all. (Figures, by the way, which are often misleading.)
It irritates me and frustrates me, particularly now that I'm trying to be less of a motionless lump and more of a health-oriented person. In my more paranoid moments, I have to stop and wonder how long it will be before fat people get rounded up into forced fat camps for the "good of society". With all the reports about how my body size is destroying civilization as we know it and costing my neighbor billions of dollars, I figure it can't be long.
September 09, 2003
So, today. Overall, this was
So, today. Overall, this was an excellent day. I did a lot of writing, went to the library, did some soapboxing with my mom, along with a lot of relationship talk. I'll break it down a topic at a time.
Writing: I had one of my amazing days today, managing 2775 words on the novel. I've hit a point where I've thought through a lot of the scenes that are coming up, so it all flows pretty quickly. I'm at over 11,000 words for the month already. It's still quite possible that I'll have a first draft done by the end of the month. (If I don't, it's okay, by the way, I'm not going to beat myself up--I should talk sometime about why I set deadlines for writing projects.)
Library: Finally, FINALLY I managed to write at the library today. It was quite nice, despite the lady who moved from the table we were sharing in disdain, as if I were soiling her work area by sitting down. (She was quite helpful, pointing out an empty nearby table, until I pointed out that the other table had no power outlet.) I checked out A Fish Called Wanda, a bunch of CDs, the PM version of the AM t'ai chi video I've been using, and a book on t'ai chi.
Which leads me to my next logical topic, t'ai chi. It's going well. The PM tape is, oddly, a little more difficult for me. Or it's possible I just had a rough day today, as the AM tape was harder than usual this morning. Over the weekend, Mom asked how long I could keep these tapes, and when I said a week, offered to buy me a set. I not only found them online, but they were in a set with a third tape for about $12. So I'll keep the library's tapes until mine get here. Despite a little touch of frustration tonight, I'm really enjoying this.
The more I talk to my mom, the more I discover things we have in common, from things we've experienced to the way we feel about things. I feel incredibly blessed to have the kind of relationship with her that I do. I feel like the last time we lived together, we started to relate to one another as adults, and this time, we're continuing that, and really getting to know each other as adults. In our society, we're expected to love our mothers. It's lovely to find out that I like mine, as well.
So yeah. Good day.
This looks insanely cool. But it's on HBO, damn it! I don't get HBO. How'm I supposed to support genre TV if it's not somewhere I can watch? Anybody wanna tape it for me? :)
More later about today, today was a good thing.
September 06, 2003
This made me laugh
My horoscope this morning: "Bow to the inevitable and maybe it will appreciate your manners." That's bumper sticker worthy right there.
September 05, 2003
Practical exercise advice:
Always feed the cats before attempting t'ai chi. Otherwise you will have two cats twining around your ankles while you try to hold up the heavens like a pillar.
September 04, 2003
Much better now
After a day's worth of relatively rational reflection, and after a day that was fairly easily divided between job hunting and writing, I'm much calmer than I was yesterday. I'm still a little worried about managing to get a job, and then managing to keep a job, but I'm not in a panic anymore.
This summer has been a gift, an enormous gift. Proving to myself that I can find and keep a job, even a part time one (which, to be honest, is what I'm looking for right now), will also be a gift. I reaffirmed that I do, definitely, more than anything, want to spend my life doing exactly what I've done for the past two months. But until I can do that, I have to do something that brings money in. When (when, damn it, not if but when) I manage to sell a book, then I can take a look at things again, and see how I am financially.
So in short, better now. Saner.
TAKE THAT, FOX!
(Er, I guess they did, since they got paid for the rights. Yeah. I'm lame. But excited!)
I finally managed to try out my t'ai chi videotape this morning. Oh my god. I remembered why I loved it so much when I took the class. It felt so good to move and stretch and breathe. It didn't feel like exercise. I didn't sweat, I didn't hurt, I didn't curse my birth. Yeah, I know it's not aerobic and all that, but for someone who's been an inactive lump for years, this is a good place to start, especially combined with my occasional morning walks. I've turned into a giant rusty machine, and this morning I felt like I was scraping off some of the rust.
September 03, 2003
This amused me.
You are a tabby cat. The total home-body. You'd be
content just to stay at home all day and not
get up from the couch. You lazy sloth! Try and
make a movement every now and then, or someone
might decide to bury you in the back yard!
What color of cat are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Warning: Whining ahead.
My schedule is so off it's not even funny. I woke up at 5:30 this morning, either because the cats woke me up or my bladder did. In either case, I was WIDE AWAKE. I knew by the time I managed to get back to sleep, my alarm would be going off at 7, so I may as well get up.
I had a little trouble falling asleep last night because my back was hurting. I dunno what it is, it's one of those aches that you can't tell if it's muscle tension or something bone-related. It almost feels like a good back-cracking would fix it, but thus far I have been unsuccessful at cracking it. I thought it would be okay by this morning, but it's not. Grar.
Well, to console myself for all this, and since I was already up ungodly early, I decided to bake biscuits for breakfast, real honest to goodness, mixed up in a bowl, kneaded and rolled out biscuits. (Okay, I cheated and used Bisquick. But otherwise, utterly homemade.) This was a good thing, and they were tasty. But now I am sleepy.
Of course, that might be because I was UP AT 5:30 AM. Grar.
September 02, 2003
The fates are dead set against me working in the library, no matter the lovely garden view, nor the quiet atmosphere. This time, I forgot the disk that has all my work on it. So I came home. I did, however, check out a few videos, including a tai chi for beginners tape. We'll see how that goes.
One of the other videos I checked out? A videotape of Cats. Heh.
The right music is everything when I'm writing. I've been listening to non-stop showtunes all weekend, mostly Godspell and Cats (the latter only in my head--I need to dig out my cast album). And I've been relatively mellow and caffeine-free. So this morning came and it was time for me to write a combat/confrontation sort of scene. Hippie-Jesus musicals weren't going to help.
So I pulled out the big guns. Giant amounts of caffeine, Rage Against the Machine, System of a Down, with a little bit of heavy Mozart thrown in for good measure ("Dies irae" from the Requiem just came on), because I can't make a playlist without some classical.
I'm happy to report my characters have been kicking ass for a good half an hour or so now.
(Edited to add: Okay, I'll 'fess up, there's one showtune on my 'angry music' playlist: "Cell Block Tango" from the Chicago soundtrack. It's not exactly angry, but it is violent at least. ;))
September 01, 2003
Overall, it was an excellent Labor Day weekend. Saturday was lazy, while Sunday was filled with a little housework, a little laziness, an amazing dinner (Cornish hens and rice stuffing, garlic-cheese biscuits), and the new NASCAR habit (I know, I know). Somewhere in there on Sunday, I wrote a flash fiction story and watched the supplemental stuff on my Two Towers DVD. (Wow, it sounds like I was busier than it felt.)
Today was the party over at Mer's where there were many people, much food, and lots of fun, despite the fact that the croquet got rained out. I finally got to play Cranium (I LOVED it!) and also played a rousing game of Space Munchkin, and I would've won too, if it wasn't for those meddling kids.
I learned a valuable lesson. If you are, like me, someone who wears makeup on average about once a year, and the whim to wear makeup suddenly strikes you (as it struck me today), it would be wise to make sure you have the wherewithal to remove said makeup at the end of the day. Otherwise, you will end up like me, leaning over the sink and splashing water on your eyes to try and remove waterproof mascara. Fortunately, when referring to mascara, "waterproof" actually means "it won't come off if you breathe too hard", so a little splashing took most of it off.