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December 4th, 2009
11:24 am - Aww, man!
* Have just realized that, in the event that Vajra the Desktop is unrecoverable from the Black Screen Of Death, while I will have saved all my music, video, and story files on the D drive we removed before sending the case over to the Temple if the Digirati for Exorcism and a Sound Beating, I'll still lose my gorramn playlists again! I still haven't rebuilt those damned things from the LAST time the drive with iTunes on it went tits up, and some of those playlists are thousands of songs long, too! I'm NEVER gonna remember what-all's in there, and that also means that I won't be able to synch my iPod until I manually print off every playlist on it, so I'll stand a chance at recreating them later. Again. *SIGH*!
* Okay, so this is me, holding my breath and hoping that the Exorcism and Sound Beating will come through, and my poor old, beleagured C drive can be saved from the Abyss.
* Also, I am seriously missing the ability to play music on my computer and have a decent speaker response. Argentyne sounds like arse, and my speaker set is too complex to just plug into her wee little ports and boost. So I predict a lot of time with my earbuds on in the near future...
* Some relative stranger, or friend of a friend added me on facebook, and is apparently just now getting a vague idea of just what a liberal socialist intellectual opinionated not shutting up bitch I actually am. He's about to learn how much data and personal experience I can pull in behind my opinions, as well, if he doesn't decide to stop pushing from his privilege platform and accept my offer of detente. Makes me wonder just what he thought he was adding there, or if he looked past the boobs in my userpic, and noticed the red hair.
* Thanks to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) winterthunder, I have begun to practice EFT, and have found it a definite benefit. Like any energy work, the key lies in subtlety of approach, and in patience and persistence -- humans have lost a lot of their delicacy when it comes to energy manipulation, and so it's easy to completely overshoot, or miss the target if one works in haste, or in distraction, but still. I can see how this treatment could be readily improved with aura visualization, and basic reiki practices, and it jives completely with how I know body/mind energy to actually work, through my own life experiences. So I'm not surprised to be seeing results. Surprised, no, but definitely relieved. And my lifelong pet Dementor is going to take some weeks of tapping to dismantle and send packing, but it's really nice to have a non-chemical weapon in my arsenal against it for once.
* Troy Victorian Stroll is this weekend. I am rapidly losing my will not to spend the next three days sewing something. This could be bad... in the really good way. But I think I probablly wouldn't get very far on that without music to nudge me along, now I think on it. Again, with the headphones. Hope the phone doesn't ring! It's really tempting to think I can get my green and blue sarcenet jacket finished in time for this weekend... really tempting indeed.
* Still getting nowhere on the contractor front, alas. The latest guy wanted three times what the hysterically overbuilding guy wanted, to do a tenth of the work. I think what's going to have to happen, is I'm gonna have to get the City Engineer back over to look at what we've done, and to tell hysterical!contractor that no, he doesn't need to sister in ten joists, and no, he doesn't have to rip out the sill all along the wall in order to repair the rotted part, and no, he doesn't have to mess with the non-load-bearing joist that's there as a remnant of a past alteration to the house. Maybe then he'll just do what we're asking him to do, and not generate three times more work on us! Because damn it, I want that hole in my house CLOSED NOW, thanks!
* Godric's still having his marking issues. I've had to start giving him time outs in the cat carrier, nose to nose with the puddles whenever I find them, and I hate that. I SO do not want to develop an aversion connection to the cat carrier, but I've got no better way, shy of beating the snot out of him regularly, to convince him not to wander the house pissing on things. And I know it's not just a UTI, painful peeing, avoiding the catbox thing, because if that were the case, he wouldn't come back to spots again and again after I've cleaned them up. The little freak might just have to start spending his time on a leash if he doesn't stop this. It's not my prefered solution, but it's better than violence, and if he can't be trusted out of my sight, then perhaps he shouldn't be getting out of my sight at all.
* And this has been a whole big post of complaining, I realize. Sorry about that. So let me think of some good things now.
* I spent some time yesterday reconstructing the text I'd lost on Tempus Fugitive when Vajra went all BSOD on me. It's not ready yet to post, but at least that's moving forward again.
* Dahn looks like she might eat, if I dangle a rat for her soon, and given that she's in for a couple rapid-fire sheds to heal up from her headwound, that counts as a good thing.
* My Christmas Cactus is blooming.
* I have finally finished my spider web parasol finally. It took me something like six months, and three spindles of beading thread, but this ain't half bad for a two dollar costume shop parasol rehab, if I do say so myself.
* If there's anybody semi-local who'd be interested in coming up to Troy and costume-crashing the Victorian Stroll this weekend, but who might need a bit of crash space, I have it to offer. There's a queen bed, and room for at least four air mattresses before we even have to put folks onto couches. rikibeth, slipjig, liamstliam, I am looking at you...
* Sirocco is fat, happy, and squeaktastic. Cyrene is beautiful, and hardly farts at all. Mythril is... pooping just fine, thanks. Hilfy is able to quack like a duck on command. And brother Godric drinks of the water of the toilet and knows nothing, as usual, so that's the Faithful accoounted for.
* Dominus is getting flung in with the big fish more and more often these days. It's freaking him out a little bit to be having meetings where elected officials could easily be facing him across the table, but I know he's good for it. I take last weekend's bald eagle sighting as a good sign on his behalf.
And that's enough babble outta me for the day, methinks. It's time now to get something done with the day that remains.
AVAUNT!
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December 3rd, 2009
01:12 pm - But it was nothing that a tenner and a bullet couldn't fix...
So weird dreams for me lately.
Earlier this week, I dreamed that while waiting in line at a doctor's office, another patient attacked me, and bit me (or stabbed me, I can't actually recall which, because in true dream logic, I discounted the injury as irrelevant once I'd walked away from the attacker,) right over my dragonfly tattoo that's on my sacrum. That tattoo was my self-gift for finishing my first novel, and the kanji in it (Kessin) stand for "determination", though I didn't remember that it was there in the dream. While waiting in that same line later in the week, I learned that the same man who had attacked me, had then been allowed to remain in the waiting room after I'd shaken him off and left, and that he had later attacked and severely beaten the doctor I'd been there to see. And THAT freaked me out. And THAT woke me up, too -- that weird logic disconnect. I do recall that the attacker looked not unlike Charles Manson, assuming he'd been living under a bridge for the past 30 years, instead of in a supermax.
Then last night, I dreamed that Dave Grohl gave me a pedicure.
I KNOW!
Look, I'm not even a Foo Fighters fan. At all. But somehow in the dream, he and I were good enough buddies that I felt comfortable lounging around his bedroom with my shoes off, and didn't bat an eye when he took it upon himself to fix my toenails. Which he then snapped off in one go, like they were those plastic press-on nails that come joined together in a package, and have at them with a friggin dremel tool! Okay, I did kind of flinch when he broke all my toenails off my foot in one go, but when I realized that it hadn't hurt (just felt a little cold) and that the nail beds weren't particularly sensitive without the nails, I just shrugged it off, and watched him work.
He tossed each one to me once he'd got it shaped down to where he liked it, but I didn't know how to put them back on again, since they didn't want to stick properly. I think I just tucked them into my pocket or something. I do know that he got distracted or interrupted halfway through though, and so he never did the other foot.
What the actual fuck, subconscious? Are we exploring new fetish territory or something? Because I gotta tell ya, my waking mind is STILL squicking out about exposed nail beds and toe nails in my pocket, and ZOMG!shiverrrrr!
Taking feet as a metaphor for foundation, and toenails as a protection element, I still can't work out what the fuck Dave Grohl has to do with anything!
My brain: It's a silly place.
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December 2nd, 2009
07:30 pm - It's our birthday present, Precious...
I went out and spent my birfday munnies today.
Frivolously, thank you very much.
( Here's what I got myself: )
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December 1st, 2009
08:14 pm - And for your birthday, Clue, I give you a boot to the head! *Whump*
* The part of the Boot To The Head will be played tonight by Microsoft's visiting celebrity; Black Screen Of Death.
My poor old dinosaur of a desktop appears to have had an allergic reaction to our new network router. It's seven years old, which in computer terms is practically an abacus with a box of crayons on top, and despite a maxed out memory load, and a catastrophic hard drive failure or two, it's been generally a trooper of a machine. But tonight it's ailing pretty badly.
Dominus is online at present, researching our options, but apparently the network change is going to significantly complicate recovery from this little fit.
And to make it all even shinier, I lost today's work on Tempus Fugitive, (such as it was,) as well. That, I could have done without.
Still, it's not as bad as could be. So long as my hard drive isn't hammered by this issue, our music library ought to be intact, and I've got Argentyne the Netbook for interwebs interface in the meantime.
And really, how pissy can a girl be when she's nomming on Emril's wine-poached, gorgonzola stuffed pears? I ask you?
In other news, I'm still reading Matthew Rossi, and I'm happy to say that his crazy moon logic has pretty much insured that if the Xtians are right about things, I'm gonna definitely spend my eternity in the Hell of the Heretics. But that's okay. All the interesting, creative folks will be in there with me anyhow. We'll have a good time.
Aaand Dominus returns from the trenches waving the white flag. Whatever this is, it's bigger than my homegrown digeratus, alas. He can't even get it into safemode without it BSOD'ing and rebooting. I say again, thank Cod the music library is on a different drive to the OS! This is gonna be a bumpy ride, methinks...
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November 27th, 2009
November 26th, 2009
10:43 am - Kitchin Witchin! -- Clue Hash; it's what's for breakfast!
A note of explanation: Dominus is a boy scout. As such, he has the requisite Scouting addiction to Corned Beef Hash. Anywhere we go to eat, if it's got hash on the menu, I immediately know what my husband will be ordering, no matter what else they may serve. Seriously, he loves the stuff so much that from time to time, he'll scratch the hash itch with tinned. Clearly, this was a situation I could not abide. I mean, if you're gonna feed your monkey, feed it the good stuff, right? So here's what we're having for breakfast today.
* Go to your deli, and ask for a butt end of corned beef. Anything over a quarter of a pound is great, and they don't need to slice it for you. You'll be mincing it up at home yourself.
* If you are pork-compliant, then chop up three good, fatty strips of bacon, and put them in a BIG, flat-bottomed pan on low heat. (The object here is to render their fat, not to cook the bacon; cooking the bacon is a side effect of the rendering.)
* If you are pork-resistant, then do the 2 - 1 mix of olive and sesame oils here, to add the smoky taste of the bacon.
* Peel a few cloves of garlic, and crush them with the flat of your knife. Throw those in with the bacon to render.
* go out to the sage bushes, and get a handful of fresh leaves. Throw those in whole too.
* Add a generous drizzle of oil into the pan to help the bacon give it up in case it's a bit chary. I think I put about two tablespoons of olive (because I keep olive oil ready to hand. You can use whatever kind of oil you fancy, really.)
* Rough-chop a medium onion (red ones are tastiest!) and enough potatoes to match volume, then half again. In my kitchen, that was three small blue potatoes, and one large red. (I have goth tubers. No one's surprised, I know.) You want to cut them fairly large, but fairly thin -- that is to say, quarter each potato longways, and then slice the pieces about half an inch thick at most. They need to be large enough that they'll hold together, but thin enough to cook all the way through. In my case, the blue potatoes were a bit elderly, so they didn't need any pre-cooking, but I slung the red in the microwave for two turns at 30 seconds apiece, so its texture would match the others. You do as you see fit.
* Take your biggest kitchen knife -- this is the time to break out your cleaver, if you've got one, -- hack your corned beef into crumbles. There's no rhyme or reason to this, you just whack away, and try not to let it fly all over the place.
* Once the bacon's not showing any white anymore (that is, all its fatty rind should now be caramel coloured and kind of translucent) you can dump the onion, potatoes, and beef into the pot. If you don't have enough oil to lightly coat everything, then add just a little more, but otherwise, just turn the lot to get it evenly mixed and coated, throw in salt and pepper to taste, pat it all down flat in the pan, and walk away.
* Ignore the sizzling, and the searing smells from the pan for a good long time. Hash is SUPPOSED to be kind of scorchy and burny, remember? If it really distressed you, you can fuss it about for awhile first, to try and get everything to cook up, but that's kind of redundant, since you're going to settle it to scorch soon anyway, and when you flip it over to do the other side, everything else will cook up then.
* Fry up an egg for each person you'll be feeding. (From our stovetop, it looks like this is going to feed four, which means two for us today, and two lunches for Dominus later on.) Scrape all the good stuff up from the bottom of the pan, and ladle the hash into the plates, then slap the egg on top.
* Serve with tabasco, worchestershire sauce, and ketchup on the table, but don't be surprised if your guests don't even notice they're there all.
* Make this noise: OM NOM NOM!!!
* Wish you were eating breakfast with Clue and Dominus today!
Current Mood: Hungry!
Current Music: No More Stones -- Enter the Haggis
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November 25th, 2009
07:50 pm - Forcibly postitve...
Things for which I am thankful this evening:
* The Litter and the Leaves, by Enter the Haggis (And as you can purchase their albums directly from them, or, should you prefer it, cherrypick their song library at a buck a pop, YOU SHOULD BE DOING THAT!)
* That I have a husband who will close his computer and help me figure out why I'm grumpy when there's no easy answer, instead of taking it personally, or hiding in his WoW.
* That I have a husband who will close his computer and march straight into the kitchen with me when, upon failing to nail down a smoking gun, I give up and say "Let's go cook something." Didn't even ask what, or why, or complain that he'd rather be doing else. In short, he loves me, AND he loves cooking with me, and how can that not cheer me up?
* That I did not burn the orange peel when I forgot it was boiling away on the stove. I caught it JUST before the water was all gone, and the caramel began to really scorch, so there'll be no using the leftover syrup as I'd intended, but at least my candied orange peel survived!
* That Hilfy is here to inform me of the error of my ways, with her adorkable sulky-duck miao. *Snoodlesthekitteh!*
* That I did not burn out the blender motor when I made it pretend it was a food processor, and grind up all my carrots and ginger for the carrot cake I've just decided I'm making. That thing SO does not owe me!
* That I am living a life which allows me to concern myself with unfairnesses to other people, instead of having to focus on injustices against myself or my family. That I can afford altruism, and idealism, and pride. These things are so impossible, so out of reach in so many other people's lives, I can't help feeling gratitude that I can reach them, and I can afford to speak to them as well. I have the luxury of being able to DO something that is not just for me.
* That I live across the country from any of my birth family, and so will not have to eat their idea of Holiday Food tomorrow. Nor will I have to endure the casual, unthinking racism and sexism over the table, either. Which is good, because getting arrested over Thanksgiving is bad for the digestion, I hear.
* Giada Dilaurentis. Nuff said.
* That we've had contractors actually return our calls on the house issues, and it looks as though we'll have managed to save enough to cover the sill replacement by the time they can schedule us in. And once that is done, we can repair the great, gaping HOLE in our house! Hooray!
Okay then. That's lifted my mood from the stew. Time to go assemble my carrot cake now!
Avaunt!
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08:37 am - What's this? Clue's linking to some GOOD news for once?
Yes. Yes, she bloody well is.
UN unveils Network of Men to fight abuse of women
UN Secretary-General Bn Ki-moon
Ban Ki-moon said men's attitudes to women needed to change
UN chief Ban Ki-moon has unveiled a Network of Men Leaders to act as male role models in a campaign opposing violence against women.
He urged all men to join the campaign, saying about 70% of women experience some form of physical or sexual violence from men.
The 14 men currently in the network include Spanish PM Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
Wednesday is the International Day of Elimination of Violence Against Women.
This is the 10th anniversary of the founding of the day.
'Global chorus'
Italian Foreign Minister Franco Frattini, Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho and Norwegian Justice Minister Knut Storberget are also among those chosen for the new list.
They had all demonstrated a commitment to oppose violence against women, said Mr Ban, adding that the group was expected to grow.
"These men will add their voices to the growing global chorus for action," he said.
Speaking at the UN headquarters in New York, the secretary-general called on men and boys around the world to join the campaign.
Victim of violence (posed by model)
Women are most at risk from violent partners or a man they know
"Break the silence," he said. "When you witness violence against women and girls, do not sit back. Act. Advocate. Unite to change the practices and attitudes that incite, perpetrate and condone this violence."
He said it was unacceptable that so many women experienced some form of physical or sexual violence from men - mostly from their husbands, intimate partners, or someone they knew.
He said men must teach each other that real men do not violate or oppress women - and that a woman's place is not just in the home or in the fields but in schools, offices and boardrooms.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the South African Nobel Peace Laureate, said: "You are a weak man if you use your physical superiority to assault and brutalise women.
"I will continue fighting until the end of my days for the right of women and girls to live a life free from violence and abuse."
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November 23rd, 2009
08:41 pm - Kitchen Witchin -- Spanish Rice casserole
Tonight's dinner was a triumph of improvisation, ergo I want to record it before I forget the details of what went into the pot.
* 1 lb ground chicken
* 3 smallish cloves of garlic, minced. (For once, I did NOT salt-grind them.)
* One poblano pepper, chopped.
* One small yellow onion, similarly chopped.
* A drizzle of sesame oil. I'd guestimate between a teaspoon and two.
* One 15 oz can of tomatoes. (I used Muir Glen's fire roasted with green chiles, but you should use whatever you fancy.)
* One wee can of sliced black olives, drained of its brine.
* A cup, more or less, of chicken broth (I eyeballed this. Sorry for the inexactitude.)
* One cup of long grain brown rice.
* Black pepper (five grinds,) cumin ( a very light dusting over the top,) and crystalized garlic (a generous dusting over the top,) to taste.
Prep is ridiculously easy. In a very deep frying pan, saute the chicken, garlic, onions and pepper in the sesame oil. Once the chicken is not very pink anymore, add the rice, and saute for as long as it takes you to get your cans open, and your broth measured out. (The extra saute induces the dry rice to take up the liquid easier, which, being brown rice, it really could use the help.)
Dump the tomatoes into a two cup pyrex glass measure, and then add chicken broth to the tippy top. Dump that in, then splash another third cup or so in for good measure. (Consider using that to rinse the dregs out of the tomato can. Cos it's yummy, that's why.) Stir in the olives (which will bring all the boys to the yard with their saltiness,) Bring it to a boil, then down to a simmer, and cover the pan for 25 minutes. I put the dry spices in about fifteen minutes before serving, but really they can go in just about any time.
Overall simmering time was around half an hour to 40 minutes, with three stirrings in, and the lid left off for the last ten minutes.
Try not to be appalled by how much like boxed mix the result will look. Fact is, it tastes worlds beyond better. And what's more? Gluten free.
If you're a lightweight, you can replace the poblano pepper (which ain't that spicy, really,) with something like a Romano, Anaheim, or Cubanelle pepper. If you do it with a bell pepper though, I will scorn you from afar, so it's best you don't tell me that detail. However, as usual, I want to hear the REST of how it comes out if/when you try this in your own kitchens.
Om Nom, my darlings!
Current Location: Mandala House
Current Music: Parfum soundtrack
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04:52 pm - ZOMGNew Moon is the best movie EVAR!!!
No, really. The bum says so!
(Thanks and a million more thanks to debitha for posting this. I lolled so hard I might have sporfled a little. Srsly.)
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10:46 am - With a smile on my face, and a bottle in my hand, you'll find me in the gutter in the morning...
I am SO crushing on Enter the Haggis's newest disc, Gutter Anthems! We listened to it pretty much nonstop on the drive back from Boston, and sure enough, it's back in the player again this morning, with no sign of galling yet.
It was a strange venue -- all baby boomer, arts council sort of crowd, butts planted firmly in seats, and no room to get up and dance. NOT the kind of environment which comes naturally to EtH, or the HaggisHeads (the latter of which were moshing and jigging about in the corners anyhow, by the end of the show.) I bruised the everlovin out of my hand with all the clapping though, and that is a surefire sign of a great show. Brian, the great woobie, clearly has someone in his life who's Taking Care Of Him now -- he's put some flesh on his face and frame, and no longer looks starveling thin. Myself, I find it cute, but I know there are some who'll be having the "he got all fat!" reaction. I say fuck em and feed em fish heads; he looks HAPPY! And of course he's still musically brilliant, as well, going from fiddle to vocals to keyboards to rhythm guitar to percussion with misleading ease. Oh, I am quite content to fangirl him from afar, though it would be quite the fun thing to seissun with him just the once. I've no intention of working that closely with another genius again though. I've done my time in that salt mine, thanks!
So the concert was great, the company was great, both our overnight hosts, and our lunch date as well. It was great to see Spider doing so well, and to get to meet, and highly approve of Boy. The ride home was pretty as always, and filled with New Music, and once we got home, the Faithful were so happy to see us they decided to forego the Rite of Shunning altogether. So they were underfoot and Helpful while we made ourselves a supper out of brussels sprouts, shallotts, quinoa, and ham. And then we had DVR'd episodes of NCIS and Criminal Minds to get caught up on, and the cherry-on-top of an early bedtime, and our own bed to have it in.
Perfect Weekend. Yesh.
I even got some work done on Tempus Fugitive on the drive out there, so that's good.
And now Godric is holding down the arm of my chair, and conspicuously leaning on my elbow, since I won't let him sleep in my lap. Should I move my arm out from under him, he'd fall against my ribs without noticing, however should I use my elbow to nudge his arse back up onto the chair arm, he'd get offended and bail. Just like that. *sneerk* Kitties are so funny!
And best of all? Dominus is taking the week home from work. So I have companionship which is conversant in English! Woo Hoo!
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November 20th, 2009
03:43 pm - ?tihs lautcae ht tahW
!!!EIREE si tihs isht esuaceB ?SIHT gniod si ertupmoc ym yhw nialpxe ydobyna naC
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03:31 pm - I'm a one-hit wonder, and you are softer than you think.
You stay classy Harlequin! You stay classy!
What gets me, is that they've the nerve to be upset that the RWA's taken away thier princess points for that stunt. Did they somehow think that authors would APPROVE of Harlequin pimping (and yes, I mean that 'pimping' in the most denigrating way possible, by the way,) a brand new vanity press at its slushpile? Of COURSE the RWA's disgusted!
Harlequin's spin doctoring attemtp is even worse, given that it's more or less like Huggy Bear trying to deny the existence of his stable of whores to his wife when she busts him at work. It's a plain sign of disrespect, and I look forward with schadenfreude to Harlequin's authors jumping ship in hordes over it. (Not that that'll actually happen, of course. Authors are too desperate, generally, to continue seeing their works in print once they've got a taste of it. Still, chance would be a fine thing.)
In other news.
I lost yesterday to being eaten by a grue. I lost today to a migraine. I got more or less nothing done on either, and am therefore a Very Bad Girl. Now who's going to write my spanking? (Leers at Certain Demographic of my Flist.)
This weekend will involve a drive to Boston, during which I expect I shall write some. We're going to see Enter the Haggis, and that'll be a good pick up to wash the dirt off the shovel with which I'm burying the dismembered corpse of this past week. (And how's THAT for a metaphor? Cause I mean every word, thanks.)
Current Music: Thea Gilmore - Let the Blue Sky In
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November 18th, 2009
10:51 pm - Windy bus stop click shop window heel
So. I appear to have fallen off the NaNo wagon. Kind of. Except not in such a way that it means I'm not still working on Tempus Fugitive every day or anything.
I'm strangely at peace with this realization, actually. I had thought that if I pussed out on NaNo after having committed to doing it, that I would nosedive in my motivation, and wind up tanking or abandoning the book out of sheer self-disgust. However all that's happened, is that I actually seem to have internalized my ideal pace for this thing, and have managed to more or less divorce it from NaNo's daily grind mentality.
I do not seem to be a Death March sort of writer. That's not to say that the wordcount is anything unapproachable -- for Cod's sake, I wrote Tower of Air in one day, and that story was around 10,000 words. It's the every day without a break thing that seems to be the dealbreaker for me. It's too much like monogamy. That is, the 'you may only focus on this one thing, forever' vibe that makes my inner magpie screech and hurl itself against the bars.
The reason I didn't write yesterday had a lot to do with burnout. I discovered this when I stopped staring hatefully at the blank screen and flashing cursor, and just cracked open hobbitdragon's The Bondage of the Mind (which is the best Snarry I've read all year, by the way,) instead. I gave up. Did you catch that? I gave up on TF for the day, and went to read porn. And suddenly felt immeasurably better, and less like just hitting delete until the entire manuscript and all its generative notes were gone. (Lo, the healing power of pr0n...)
Then today, I woke up with a new take on the scene that had been flummoxing me yesterday. I spent most of today finishing the read (yeah, it WAS that good,) and letting that notion percolate in the back of my head, and then this evening, I started outlining it. Which turned halfway through the outline into proper prose, and even in its half-finished state, is still comfortably within wordcount for the night. Mind, that's WITH all the blogging and thread-debating I was doing today.
So... NaNo. Not exactly my thing. It's not quite as supportive as I'd imagined, what with everyone focused (rightly) on getting out their own wordcount, and therefore not able to talk much. And I do tend to obsess rather awfully about that bar graph on the 'writer's stats' page. However, it did absolutely serve its purpose. It kicked my arse into gear, and it made me get past that fight scene I had stalled out on months ago, and underway. And I intend to still make a concerted effort to have my wordcount at or over 50g by the end of the month, however there's no BLOODY way that number will mark the end of the novel. This is me, after all. My idea of a middling story is around 65,000! My current guestimate has Tempus Fugitive coming in somewhere between 120,000 and 150,000 words. Which is long, yes, but not out of the question for a first novel.
And I'm still going to maintain my wordcount on the NaNo site as I get sequential scenes finished. And I'm still going to be doing updates on ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) cluewrites as I go along. (Although not today, because of that whole 'the first half of this scene is an outline' thing. I have to fix that first.) Only now I'm going to go ahead and let myself TAKE days off when I need them, and to read other things when my brain aches from all the sameness, or when my subconscious knows there's something off in the outline, but can't get its fingers round exactly what it is. (That happens to me a lot, I'm afraid. I have a plot sense that will sometimes just stop me DEAD until I figure out what aspect of the upcoming scene needs to change. It can be vexing when it hits me in the middle of a deadline crunch, but it's never steered me wrong yet.)
So la.
In other, related news, Mr. John Robert Rose, Fenris of the Blackwatch Council, has stepped up and made it known to me today that he is one FUCK of a sexy beast, and Mr. Remus Lupin only wishes he'd been this hot.
Hee!
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01:13 pm - And for today's special: Survey, with a side of discussion!
Let's talk about insults, shall we?
One in particular, for today. Please tell me, in your own words, just what is meant when one is called a "slut".
I am aware that circumstances of activity, surroundings, and relationship to the speaker all have bearing on how the word gets used, and just how much of an insult it's meant to be, but let's discuss its worst first, shall we?
Linguistically and historically, a slut was a lazy maidservant. (This shows up in the word's Middle English origin, of slutte, or dirty) and through use, it expanded to include whores, prostitutes, and Ladies Of Negotiable Affection.
But what I want to know, is what's supposed to be meant by it -- really meant by it today. If some stranger spits the word at you on a bus, what's the first thing your brain's going to seize on as far as meaning? What would bring such a word from you, in anger, with intent to wound? What words go along with it, snugly nestled in the vocabulary arsenal like grenades in a belt? What softens it? What gives it teeth?
And -- this is the discussion part, -- how could we in the world who do not find sex and dirt equable, go about reclaiming the word from the public's vernacular of scorn? Has the process begun already? Even now, girls will sling 'slut' and 'ho' at their best friends by way of a compliment -- is that normalizing patriarchal attitudes of inherent female unworthiness, or is it pulling yet another bolt out of the old Scold's Mask?
Share me your thoughts; I really do want to know.
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November 15th, 2009
09:12 pm - A survey whilst I procrastin8
So one night, a space pod comes down, and lands in your backyard. It's about the size of a VW beetle, and as far as you can tell, it's got no weaponry. But it does have a video screen, which you see when the door appears in its side as you approach. There is a clearly non-human face on the screen, and you can hear its non-human language transposed under a computerized translator.
The alien tells you that it would like to meet a Human, but given the nature of terrestrial broadcasts, it is wary of risking an Earthside landing. Ergo, it has sent a taxi, (which is invisible to Earthly technology, so as not to draw unfortunate attention to its landing,) and it would like for you to make the selection of who that you know PERSONALLY, would best represent your Species.
You cannot go yourself.
You must know the person in question well enough to get them on the phone, and get them to agree before the taxi leaves, which it will do in ten hours. If necessary, you can send the taxi to meet your emmissary, but it will not open again for you, or for any other human.
Who do you choose?
Why?
Would you choose someone different if the taxi was the size of a bus, and bristling with weaponry?
Who?
Why?
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November 14th, 2009
02:38 pm - Dear world
I cannot look at you today, you're being too horrible.
Alas, LJ-flavored corner of the world, between the BBS newsfeed, and people linking to stories of the horrible, too much of the horrible is bleeding over and showing up here. Ergo, I cannot look at you either. It's nothing personal, it's just that I had a good morning despite the rain, and if I waste this weekend in a funk due to world-horribleness, I'll also have wasted the only really decent Man-Time I'm going to get for a week, not to mention all of my momentum to continue writing.
Ergo, with appologies to those parts of LJ/IJ/DW land which are decidedly NOT horrible, I must still refrain.
If you'd like, though, please feel free to link me to things which are not horrible, or to relay stories and anecdotes of the same. I welcome your not-horrible, if you've got it to share. I just don't feel I've the heart to go digging for it today.
With love,
Me.
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November 13th, 2009
03:22 pm - This is a great article on able-ism in competitive sports.
Written by Aimee Mullins, a runner who uses prosthetic legs to compete.
A squick warning though, for eye-phobes. There's a photo about halfway down, of Tiger Woods getting his LASIK treatment. I found it quite triggery, and had to scroll past it really fast, but I still think the article itself is well worth the moment's discomfort.
Racing on carbon fiber legs: How abled should we be?
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02:03 pm - A very silly way to start the day.
So there I was, handling my first-thing-in-the-morning online business (you know, e mail, web comics, fail blog, et al.) and Dominus, finished with his shower, and dressed for work, comes sneaking into my office, creeps up behind me -- and for those who have not seen my office, this is practically impossible to do, since I sit with my back to a corner,) and then he squirts perfume (mine,) on the back of my neck. Then he dodges back, and gives me a defiantly terrified look until I remember to say "I'll let that slide this time, but you should know I have delivered epic beatdowns for less."
And then, in deference to Zombieland, we elected NOT to ransack the room and smash all contents within.
Some married-people jokes just don't read to anyone else, I guess.
So this afternoon finds me holding down a table at our local Barnes $ Noble, sucking down green tea, and pretending I can't see the pumpkin pecan cheesecake over there in the pastry case. I'm a little over daily wordcount, but still about a thousand shy of my 'catch up' point for the day I ditched earlier this week. My inner OCD monkey is having trouble coping with that graph which shows my wordcount in relation to the 'quota' for the month. It gets quite stressed and fractious whenever the gold bar is not at least a little higher than the blue one, but luckily I'm a prose hound, and have more trouble reining in the wordcount than droning on at epic lengths.
I might have caught up with myself yesterday afternoon, but my villain chose that time to step up and start delivering dialogue for his introduction scene out of sequence. I probably did a solid thousand or two of serious outline-padding yesterday evening, but technically I can't count it against the 'done' bar just yet. In a chapter or two, though, that sideline diversion will pay off.
We also went to see the chiropractor this morning. it was an exercize in futility for me, since my back was too bound up to Make The Noise at all, but since then, it's been percussion central in my spine. Every stretch and flex leads to xylophonic impact. Now if the muscles will just release a little, I'll be Apples.
Assuming I can convince myself that I do not, in any way, need a red velvet cupcake.
At all.
Nor the pumpkin pecan cheesecake neither, thanks everso.
*facepalm!*
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November 12th, 2009
03:15 pm - "Anyway, it's clean. Though, of course, it tastes of wherever it's been."
Made wordcount for the day. Taking a break to scrape Stephen Sondheim forcibly out of my brain, and then it'll be back to the salt mines for me. (Literally. There's faeries involved, so salt is a critical plot component.)
So then. Dominus will be abandoning me to my own devices whilst he hies off to bowling for the night, so I put it to you, oh my wise and incisive Flist: What ought I to do about dinner?
Order in? From whom? Go out? Whence? Rummage? For what? Craft a stunning piece of culinary ephemery and then devour it in a sitting?
All opinions are welcome.
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