Crazy, crazy day. I have two (at least) huge construction drawing packages to prep for distribution tonight, and I already planned on working late. For once the engineers didn't wait until the last minute and actually gave me all of their drawings this morning, so there was a glimmer of hope that I'd get to leave by 5 today, but then they went and scheduled a last minute "team orientation" meeting in about 5 minutes, the first ever meeting that I'm required to attend at the worst possible time for me to have to attend one. Such is life. Off to the meeting I go...
Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I'm having a pretty consistently crappy day that looks like it doesn't stand much chance of improving until I'm unconscious. And so I'm scrolling VidiotBox. Here's a few of their selections that managed to make me smile.
Bugs Bunny in drag, because that just never gets old.
Star Trek vs. Star Wars. The Enterprise vs. The Death Star. Picard vs. Vader. Reason and enlightenment vs. megalomaniacal Sith. Good times!
Lastly, a kitten attacking images on a laptop screen. If a kitten can't make you smile, there's something deeply wrong with you. This reminds me of when Niblet was a kitten and she'd see the fish screensaver on my monitor and go nuts. I'd say I want a kitten, but I need only remember the fat puke factory that she grew into.
And now I'm going home. And possibly straight to bed.
Bugs Bunny in drag, because that just never gets old.
Star Trek vs. Star Wars. The Enterprise vs. The Death Star. Picard vs. Vader. Reason and enlightenment vs. megalomaniacal Sith. Good times!
Lastly, a kitten attacking images on a laptop screen. If a kitten can't make you smile, there's something deeply wrong with you. This reminds me of when Niblet was a kitten and she'd see the fish screensaver on my monitor and go nuts. I'd say I want a kitten, but I need only remember the fat puke factory that she grew into.
And now I'm going home. And possibly straight to bed.
This is most awesome: Nigerian Letter scammer convinced to carve replica Commodore 64
via BoingBoing
via BoingBoing
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Update on the computer drama: Matt's computer refuses to recognize my printer. It recognizes that there's some kind of interface hardware connected to the USB slot, but I can't convince it that this is indeed the printer that goes to the driver I keep trying to install. So I guess I need to go buy some kind of USB/serial port adapter. Or I could swap printers with my mom (again) and just use my old printer, but that one prints crappy, fuzzy pictures, so, no.
As for Photoshop, I still can't find my disc, and my sister swears that rather than giving her a disc like I thought I just loaned her mine, which she gave back right after she installed it. But she says she made a back-up copy first, which she might still have, somewhere, maybe, and at some point she'll try to find the time to look for it.
With ten and a half weeks to go and still no wedding invitations to send out, I think I'd best be cracking open my PSP tutorial.
Sigh.
As for Photoshop, I still can't find my disc, and my sister swears that rather than giving her a disc like I thought I just loaned her mine, which she gave back right after she installed it. But she says she made a back-up copy first, which she might still have, somewhere, maybe, and at some point she'll try to find the time to look for it.
With ten and a half weeks to go and still no wedding invitations to send out, I think I'd best be cracking open my PSP tutorial.
Sigh.
John Mackenzie over at Adult ADD and Money shares his plan for paying off credit cards:
It's so simple it's genius.
Now if I could just stop turning right around and maxing my cards out again right after I've made a payment... although I don't really see that happening until after the wedding.
"I focused on the credit card with the smallest balance first and paid the minimum payment on the rest of the cards. Once I paid off a credit card I could take the monthly payment I was making to the paid off card and add it to the minimum payment that I was making on the card with the next smallest balance. Using this system I was able to pay down three credit cards in a little over a year."
It's so simple it's genius.
Now if I could just stop turning right around and maxing my cards out again right after I've made a payment... although I don't really see that happening until after the wedding.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Here be spoilers.
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So Proven Guilty isn't my favorite entry in the series (I think that honor still goes to Blood Rites), but it was nonetheless a good read. I don't know how many volumes Butcher is planning on before wrapping the whole thing up, but it's becoming pretty clear that he's building up to something. That's sad and scary and exciting. Sad because I don't want it to be over. Scary because I'm sure people--characters I've come to love--will die before it's over. And exciting because I'm sure that, whatever happens, it's gonna be good.
This reading was a little weird for me, because the footage and pictures I've seen of the upcoming TV series were interfering with my mental cast of characters. I still mainly hear James Marsters narrating in my head as I read, but my image of a James-like Harry kept morphing into Paul Blackthorne. I figure my perceptions of these characters will be completely screwed with by the time I read the next book. Hopefully in a good way.
Some specifics, starting, of course, with the 'shippy stuff, because that's how I roll: I don't for a minute buy that Murphy believes in her heart that she and Harry are wrong for each other. I absolutely buy that she's convinced her head of this, and managed to almost convince Harry's head to agree, but I have faith that their hearts will eventually win out. And that when they do it will be messy and complicated and wonderful, like all the best love stories are. Stupid Murphy.
It's interesting that she's essentially lost her job just as it's becoming imperative for Harry to find a weilder for his own personal Excalibur. And I did not intend the phalic punnery that took over that last sentence, but I guess it works either way. Job/relationship hindrance issues aside, I guessed from the moment Shiro gave his sword to Harry for safekeeping that it would end up in Murphy's hands. Maybe that's too obvious, but it's obvious because it seems so right, and it fits with the guardian angel imagery Harry sees whenever he looks at Karrin with his Sight. And if she does indeed lose her job--if she can't not just not be in command anymore, but can't even be a cop--what else will she do? She's seen too much to sit idly by, and she's too much of a warrior to give up the good fight. She loves the law--but I think it's not the law itself so much as the principles behind it. What better promotion than to protect and serve on behalf of a higher authority--a Cop for God, in essence? 'Twould be awesome. I hope that's where Butcher's going with this.
Speaking of, I was very pleased to see Michael again, even if his appearance was limited. And of course he knew all along about Lasciel. And Michael? You're not allowed to die, so just stop that nonsense right now.
As for his family, I have a new liking for Charity. Molly, I'm not so sure about, and I'm a little apprehensive about her becoming Harry's apprentice. Although I'm sure that as long as her story continues to be told through Harry's eyes, it will be entertaining.
Finally, Thomas. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. I'm disappointed that he's feeding again, and wondering what he's up to, but I'm not really too worried. I have a suspiscion that the build-up around his mysterious activities are aiming more for a punchline than a punch in the gut, and it will turn out that he's found gainful employment as a male stripper. Really, that's the perfect job for a hot incubus--he'd get to suck up all of the sexual energy as his "prey" stuffs money in his knickers. And it's just embarrassing enough for him to want to keep it a secret from Harry. I'm not sure how the Wild Hunt fits into that theory, but I'm working on it.
Love Mouse. Love Mister. Still love Bob. Love that Leanansidhe is even crazier, and I'm intrigued by what's going on with Queen Mab. Also loving the movie monster shoutouts, and Harry's bewilderment and tired acceptance of the fan convention phenomenon. Liking Rawlins, and won't mind if he's a recurring character.
I love these books. And I love Harry Dresden. I sure hope television will be good to him.
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/spoilers
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So Proven Guilty isn't my favorite entry in the series (I think that honor still goes to Blood Rites), but it was nonetheless a good read. I don't know how many volumes Butcher is planning on before wrapping the whole thing up, but it's becoming pretty clear that he's building up to something. That's sad and scary and exciting. Sad because I don't want it to be over. Scary because I'm sure people--characters I've come to love--will die before it's over. And exciting because I'm sure that, whatever happens, it's gonna be good.
This reading was a little weird for me, because the footage and pictures I've seen of the upcoming TV series were interfering with my mental cast of characters. I still mainly hear James Marsters narrating in my head as I read, but my image of a James-like Harry kept morphing into Paul Blackthorne. I figure my perceptions of these characters will be completely screwed with by the time I read the next book. Hopefully in a good way.
Some specifics, starting, of course, with the 'shippy stuff, because that's how I roll: I don't for a minute buy that Murphy believes in her heart that she and Harry are wrong for each other. I absolutely buy that she's convinced her head of this, and managed to almost convince Harry's head to agree, but I have faith that their hearts will eventually win out. And that when they do it will be messy and complicated and wonderful, like all the best love stories are. Stupid Murphy.
It's interesting that she's essentially lost her job just as it's becoming imperative for Harry to find a weilder for his own personal Excalibur. And I did not intend the phalic punnery that took over that last sentence, but I guess it works either way. Job/relationship hindrance issues aside, I guessed from the moment Shiro gave his sword to Harry for safekeeping that it would end up in Murphy's hands. Maybe that's too obvious, but it's obvious because it seems so right, and it fits with the guardian angel imagery Harry sees whenever he looks at Karrin with his Sight. And if she does indeed lose her job--if she can't not just not be in command anymore, but can't even be a cop--what else will she do? She's seen too much to sit idly by, and she's too much of a warrior to give up the good fight. She loves the law--but I think it's not the law itself so much as the principles behind it. What better promotion than to protect and serve on behalf of a higher authority--a Cop for God, in essence? 'Twould be awesome. I hope that's where Butcher's going with this.
Speaking of, I was very pleased to see Michael again, even if his appearance was limited. And of course he knew all along about Lasciel. And Michael? You're not allowed to die, so just stop that nonsense right now.
As for his family, I have a new liking for Charity. Molly, I'm not so sure about, and I'm a little apprehensive about her becoming Harry's apprentice. Although I'm sure that as long as her story continues to be told through Harry's eyes, it will be entertaining.
Finally, Thomas. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. I'm disappointed that he's feeding again, and wondering what he's up to, but I'm not really too worried. I have a suspiscion that the build-up around his mysterious activities are aiming more for a punchline than a punch in the gut, and it will turn out that he's found gainful employment as a male stripper. Really, that's the perfect job for a hot incubus--he'd get to suck up all of the sexual energy as his "prey" stuffs money in his knickers. And it's just embarrassing enough for him to want to keep it a secret from Harry. I'm not sure how the Wild Hunt fits into that theory, but I'm working on it.
Love Mouse. Love Mister. Still love Bob. Love that Leanansidhe is even crazier, and I'm intrigued by what's going on with Queen Mab. Also loving the movie monster shoutouts, and Harry's bewilderment and tired acceptance of the fan convention phenomenon. Liking Rawlins, and won't mind if he's a recurring character.
I love these books. And I love Harry Dresden. I sure hope television will be good to him.
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/spoilers
It's already linked over there in the Google reader side bar (for now), but I thought I'd point out that Deep Genre In Action - Bloody Ballet – Dracula is actually an account of an author's discovery of Buffy and how it saved her sanity during a period of illness, long after she had already given it a cursory try and--as so many do--dismissed it outright. There's also a discussion in the comments about how Buffy fits (or doesn't fit) into the vampire genre, and, basically, what a rockin' show it was.
~~~
Friday night I picked up a package of AcneFree, the less expensive (but still not cheap) drug store knockoff of ProActiv, that green acne stuff that Jessica Simpson and P. Diddy are always pimping on Saturday mornings. I've used it faithfully morning and night for the last four days, and I can tell you, it works. This morning, though, it left a mild rash on my neck, and my face is uncomfortably tingly. The directions say to use it less frequently if that happens, so I think I'll skip a couple of applications and then start using it only at bedtime. But irritation aside, considering that my neck, chin and jawline have been covered with zits for over a year now and this stuff finally made them go away, I gotta say I'm pretty pleased with the results. [/infomercial]
Oh, and that reminds me. Remember mine and (mostly) Matt's concerns about the potentially carcinogenic properties of Neutrogena T-Gel shampoo? We finally found a couple of alternatives. One of them is Grandpa's Pine Tar shampoo, which is safer yet every bit as stinky as the T-Gel. The other is Psoriasil Scalp & Body Wash, which is all natural, smells nice, and is gentle on my hair. Neither of them are quite as effective as the T-Gel, and the second one has to be used daily to really get the job done. Since I don't like to wash my hair every day I use the stinky pine stuff about once a week and the other in between. Together they keep my scalp problems under control, they don't cause me split ends, and best yet, they don't give me cancer cooties.
~~~
Friday night I picked up a package of AcneFree, the less expensive (but still not cheap) drug store knockoff of ProActiv, that green acne stuff that Jessica Simpson and P. Diddy are always pimping on Saturday mornings. I've used it faithfully morning and night for the last four days, and I can tell you, it works. This morning, though, it left a mild rash on my neck, and my face is uncomfortably tingly. The directions say to use it less frequently if that happens, so I think I'll skip a couple of applications and then start using it only at bedtime. But irritation aside, considering that my neck, chin and jawline have been covered with zits for over a year now and this stuff finally made them go away, I gotta say I'm pretty pleased with the results. [/infomercial]
Oh, and that reminds me. Remember mine and (mostly) Matt's concerns about the potentially carcinogenic properties of Neutrogena T-Gel shampoo? We finally found a couple of alternatives. One of them is Grandpa's Pine Tar shampoo, which is safer yet every bit as stinky as the T-Gel. The other is Psoriasil Scalp & Body Wash, which is all natural, smells nice, and is gentle on my hair. Neither of them are quite as effective as the T-Gel, and the second one has to be used daily to really get the job done. Since I don't like to wash my hair every day I use the stinky pine stuff about once a week and the other in between. Together they keep my scalp problems under control, they don't cause me split ends, and best yet, they don't give me cancer cooties.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Your files, that is. So here's the good news: I have Internet at home now.
The rest is bad news: My computer went kerplooey. Saturday morning I was all psyched up to load up the Netscape Internet CD I'd picked up for free the night before. I flipped the switch on the power strip and watched as everythign powered up--except my PC tower, which made a bad, bad sparking noise and started to emit an acrid, burnt electrical smell.
Thankfully, I had copied all of my current writing projects to a floppy so I could bring them to work, else I'd have had quite the freak out. I think my older stuff got backed up at some point, too, although I can probably go ahead and let go of any latent notion of ever wrapping up my Butterfly Effect sequel, because I'm pretty sure that's gone now.
Also gone is the wedding inviation template I'd designed in Photoshop, along with Photoshop itself and all of my special fonts. Yes, I'd had PS on a disc, but I can't find that disc. Hopefully L'il Sis still has her copy. If not then I'd better start remembering how to use Paint Shop Pro.
So last night I dismantled my computer and assembled Matt's in its place, loaded up the internet, and spent the rest of the night downloading a driver for my printer, because I can't find that disc, either. Matt's computer is functional, for now, but it's getting to be elderly in computer years (it still runs Windows '98, fer cry-yi), so I have a feeling that we'll be saving up for a new one once the wedding's over and done with. Or putting one in layaway at Evil-Mart.
Speaking of which, I put a digital camera on layaway the other night. It's a Vivitar with 5 megapixels, whatever that means. It looks like a nice little camera for the price, and it's bound to take better pictures than the piece of crap cheap-ass digital camera I've been using for the last several years. I'm excited about that, and also about the prospect of dragging Matt with me next week to pick out a video camera to stash in layaway in the hopes of having it paid for in time for our trip.
Friday night's shopping excursion also resulted in another bathing suit for myself, this one providing even more coverage for all my wobbly bits, a cute pair of sunglasses that will stay safely in their bag until the honeymoon lest I break them or lose them before then (in the mean time I'll stick with my dollar store sunglasses, which I seem to have a much easier time of keeping up with, for some reason), and two pairs of swim trunks for Matt. One of them is red and sexy and he will look quite the hottie in them. That pair was a present for me.
The rest of the weekend, except for laundry and routine cleaning and a dull, persistant headache that I couldn't shake, was lazy and relaxing. I finished Proven Guilty, about which I mainly have to say that I'm with Thomas: Harry and Karrin are idiots. There's more, but it's all spoilery and speculative and I'll save it for another post. For now, I still have a headache, I'm still not completely awake, and I have a report to type that's full of engineering garble that is way beyond my ken. I think I'm going to need more coffee first. And some drugs. Sweet, blessed painkillers, to be precise.
In the meantime, big love and sympathy to Garnigal, who apparently just wrapped up a weekend from hell. Hopefully she's too busy sleeping to see this.
The rest is bad news: My computer went kerplooey. Saturday morning I was all psyched up to load up the Netscape Internet CD I'd picked up for free the night before. I flipped the switch on the power strip and watched as everythign powered up--except my PC tower, which made a bad, bad sparking noise and started to emit an acrid, burnt electrical smell.
Thankfully, I had copied all of my current writing projects to a floppy so I could bring them to work, else I'd have had quite the freak out. I think my older stuff got backed up at some point, too, although I can probably go ahead and let go of any latent notion of ever wrapping up my Butterfly Effect sequel, because I'm pretty sure that's gone now.
Also gone is the wedding inviation template I'd designed in Photoshop, along with Photoshop itself and all of my special fonts. Yes, I'd had PS on a disc, but I can't find that disc. Hopefully L'il Sis still has her copy. If not then I'd better start remembering how to use Paint Shop Pro.
So last night I dismantled my computer and assembled Matt's in its place, loaded up the internet, and spent the rest of the night downloading a driver for my printer, because I can't find that disc, either. Matt's computer is functional, for now, but it's getting to be elderly in computer years (it still runs Windows '98, fer cry-yi), so I have a feeling that we'll be saving up for a new one once the wedding's over and done with. Or putting one in layaway at Evil-Mart.
Speaking of which, I put a digital camera on layaway the other night. It's a Vivitar with 5 megapixels, whatever that means. It looks like a nice little camera for the price, and it's bound to take better pictures than the piece of crap cheap-ass digital camera I've been using for the last several years. I'm excited about that, and also about the prospect of dragging Matt with me next week to pick out a video camera to stash in layaway in the hopes of having it paid for in time for our trip.
Friday night's shopping excursion also resulted in another bathing suit for myself, this one providing even more coverage for all my wobbly bits, a cute pair of sunglasses that will stay safely in their bag until the honeymoon lest I break them or lose them before then (in the mean time I'll stick with my dollar store sunglasses, which I seem to have a much easier time of keeping up with, for some reason), and two pairs of swim trunks for Matt. One of them is red and sexy and he will look quite the hottie in them. That pair was a present for me.
The rest of the weekend, except for laundry and routine cleaning and a dull, persistant headache that I couldn't shake, was lazy and relaxing. I finished Proven Guilty, about which I mainly have to say that I'm with Thomas: Harry and Karrin are idiots. There's more, but it's all spoilery and speculative and I'll save it for another post. For now, I still have a headache, I'm still not completely awake, and I have a report to type that's full of engineering garble that is way beyond my ken. I think I'm going to need more coffee first. And some drugs. Sweet, blessed painkillers, to be precise.
In the meantime, big love and sympathy to Garnigal, who apparently just wrapped up a weekend from hell. Hopefully she's too busy sleeping to see this.
Friday, June 23, 2006
I've got to back away from the eBay for a while. In the last two days I've bought a waist corset to wear under my wedding dress, a thigh master (yes. Shut up. It's the part of my body I'm most self-conscious about right now, and the one my bathing suit does the least to hide), and a while ago I put in a bid on this cocktail dress after panicking that I don't have a single appropriate thing to wear on a semi-formal night on a cruise ship. I may finally have to break in my Paypal Buyer's Credit for the dress, if I win it.
Wow, it just started raining really hard out there. At least this storm should move on by the time I leave. Yesterday one hit right at 5 and a couple times on the drive home I feared I'd have to get out of the van and swim home.
I hope it stops before I leave, at least. I have to do my shopping tonight. Nothing major, just groceries, although I might swing by Kohl's and check out their bathing suit clearance sale. I figure it might be a good idea to have a spare one of those along on the trip.
Back on the topic of eBay, I'm trying to decide whether or not I like this ring enough to ask Matt for it. I do think it's lovely; I just wish it had some diamonds in the wedding band. It's "buy it now" so if I do decide I want it at least I won't have to go through the trauma of getting attached and then losing the auction again. That's more drama than I can handle, apparently. But I suppose if I'm not already in love with it then I should keep looking. It's not like we're down to the wire. Yet.
Wow, it just started raining really hard out there. At least this storm should move on by the time I leave. Yesterday one hit right at 5 and a couple times on the drive home I feared I'd have to get out of the van and swim home.
I hope it stops before I leave, at least. I have to do my shopping tonight. Nothing major, just groceries, although I might swing by Kohl's and check out their bathing suit clearance sale. I figure it might be a good idea to have a spare one of those along on the trip.
Back on the topic of eBay, I'm trying to decide whether or not I like this ring enough to ask Matt for it. I do think it's lovely; I just wish it had some diamonds in the wedding band. It's "buy it now" so if I do decide I want it at least I won't have to go through the trauma of getting attached and then losing the auction again. That's more drama than I can handle, apparently. But I suppose if I'm not already in love with it then I should keep looking. It's not like we're down to the wire. Yet.
So that whole writing whingefest the other day was brought to you by the letters P, M and S. I'm starting to feel my normal self again.
Now if that right there wasn't TMI enough for ya, brace yourselves for more:
I have to go to the female-bits-doctor soon, apparently, and some of you may be shocked to learn that I've never been to one of those before, so I'm more than a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I've never been sexually active with anyone and I've never had any problems with the plumbing, so I've just never felt any particular need to get checked out down there.
But last night my sister pointed out that if I plan to be on birth control once I'm married, then I'd better start taking it soon. And to do that I first have to go get my womanly parts examined. And then she so helpfully went into graphic detail about exactly what that entails, but I'll spare you any of that business. Suffice to say it's got me considering the viability of OTC contraceptives and even considering the possibility of asking Matt if he minds if we just stay celibate until we're ready for babies.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to just suck it up and go, because it's way past time that I did so, and it's a bullet that I'm going to have to bite sooner or later, and I might as well make it sooner and get it over with. And when the time comes I'll just lie back and think of England.
Now if that right there wasn't TMI enough for ya, brace yourselves for more:
I have to go to the female-bits-doctor soon, apparently, and some of you may be shocked to learn that I've never been to one of those before, so I'm more than a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I've never been sexually active with anyone and I've never had any problems with the plumbing, so I've just never felt any particular need to get checked out down there.
But last night my sister pointed out that if I plan to be on birth control once I'm married, then I'd better start taking it soon. And to do that I first have to go get my womanly parts examined. And then she so helpfully went into graphic detail about exactly what that entails, but I'll spare you any of that business. Suffice to say it's got me considering the viability of OTC contraceptives and even considering the possibility of asking Matt if he minds if we just stay celibate until we're ready for babies.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to just suck it up and go, because it's way past time that I did so, and it's a bullet that I'm going to have to bite sooner or later, and I might as well make it sooner and get it over with. And when the time comes I'll just lie back and think of England.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
More randomness:
* There was a cow grazing alongside the road this morning on the way to work. You would think that, having lived the vast majority of my life out in the country, I'd know who to call about a stray cow, but it turns out I really don't. I ended up reporting Bossie to the local animal shelter's answering machine. I figure at least they'll know who's in charge of wandering cows. Here's hoping she doesn't become road hamburger.
* While I'm on the subject of animals, I had another threatening spider dream last night, and what's that all about? I certainly hope it has nothing to do with actual spiders crawling on me in my sleep. This one wasn't abnormally huge, but it wasn't exactly tiny, either. But it was vanquished in my dream by Mitzi the Mighty Wonder Chihuahua, every bit as unaware of her teeny-tininess in my dream as she was in life as she squished said spider beneath her dime sized paw. Chihuahuas and their fearlessness and delusions of grandeur. Gotta love 'em.
* I miss Mitzi. *sniff*
* One more animal story: I finally kicked Niblet out of my room last night, mostly. Since Sasha moved in and pretty much established herself as Top Bitch Kitty, I've been letting Niblet take refuge in my bedroom from constantly getting her ass handed to her. But she's finally started asserting herself and her territorial claims and has shown Sasha that she can give as good as she gets. Since then they've mostly been managing to tolerate each other. So, in the interest of getting a good night's sleep for once, I moved her food and potty-box out of my room and shut her out for the night. It went well until about 5 AM when the screech of a cat fight woke me up, so I let her back in and eventually managed to go back to sleep for a few minutes beneath all of her prodding and pouncing. I miss Vanilla, man. She was a good kitty. She would go to bed with me and hold still and sleep through the night. Not like Niblet and her ADHD and her belief that I exist solely to amuse her. At any rate, I'm calling it progress, and despite the interruption that was the best night's sleep I've had all week.
* I finally finished Tess's bridesmaid shawl the other night, fringe and all. And I finished L'il Sis's coordinating poncho last week. Pictures are forthcoming. Go team me!
* Since my eldest nephew is a Batman fan and we spent many hours bonding over the Batman universe when he was an impressionable young pup, I loaned him my deluxe edition of The Complete Frank Miller Batman to help him through his bedrest after he got stabbed last summer (and no, in case you were wondering, they never caught that guy). Naturally, I haven't seen it since. I thought about just letting him have it and seeing if I could get a second-hand copy to replace it, but when I checked it out just now I saw that old copies are going for much, much more money than what I paid for it originally. So, yeah. I definitely need to get ahold of him and get my book back.
* There was a cow grazing alongside the road this morning on the way to work. You would think that, having lived the vast majority of my life out in the country, I'd know who to call about a stray cow, but it turns out I really don't. I ended up reporting Bossie to the local animal shelter's answering machine. I figure at least they'll know who's in charge of wandering cows. Here's hoping she doesn't become road hamburger.
* While I'm on the subject of animals, I had another threatening spider dream last night, and what's that all about? I certainly hope it has nothing to do with actual spiders crawling on me in my sleep. This one wasn't abnormally huge, but it wasn't exactly tiny, either. But it was vanquished in my dream by Mitzi the Mighty Wonder Chihuahua, every bit as unaware of her teeny-tininess in my dream as she was in life as she squished said spider beneath her dime sized paw. Chihuahuas and their fearlessness and delusions of grandeur. Gotta love 'em.
* I miss Mitzi. *sniff*
* One more animal story: I finally kicked Niblet out of my room last night, mostly. Since Sasha moved in and pretty much established herself as Top Bitch Kitty, I've been letting Niblet take refuge in my bedroom from constantly getting her ass handed to her. But she's finally started asserting herself and her territorial claims and has shown Sasha that she can give as good as she gets. Since then they've mostly been managing to tolerate each other. So, in the interest of getting a good night's sleep for once, I moved her food and potty-box out of my room and shut her out for the night. It went well until about 5 AM when the screech of a cat fight woke me up, so I let her back in and eventually managed to go back to sleep for a few minutes beneath all of her prodding and pouncing. I miss Vanilla, man. She was a good kitty. She would go to bed with me and hold still and sleep through the night. Not like Niblet and her ADHD and her belief that I exist solely to amuse her. At any rate, I'm calling it progress, and despite the interruption that was the best night's sleep I've had all week.
* I finally finished Tess's bridesmaid shawl the other night, fringe and all. And I finished L'il Sis's coordinating poncho last week. Pictures are forthcoming. Go team me!
* Since my eldest nephew is a Batman fan and we spent many hours bonding over the Batman universe when he was an impressionable young pup, I loaned him my deluxe edition of The Complete Frank Miller Batman to help him through his bedrest after he got stabbed last summer (and no, in case you were wondering, they never caught that guy). Naturally, I haven't seen it since. I thought about just letting him have it and seeing if I could get a second-hand copy to replace it, but when I checked it out just now I saw that old copies are going for much, much more money than what I paid for it originally. So, yeah. I definitely need to get ahold of him and get my book back.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
I had a dream last night (and isn't that your favorite type of blog post opening ever?) in which I was an extra on Lost. But not as myself--as a middle-aged woman with a husband and a teenaged daughter. And for some reason the series decided to focus on our little family when my dream-daughter decided to find her own way off of the island and ran away into the jungle. Dream-hubby and I went after her, and I somehow got stuck in a tree with a giant spider. Not Shelob-sized or anything, more like a black widow the size of a large cat. And speaking of large cats, as the spider pounced on me, so did Niblet, who decided it was playtime. It was 4 a.m. I did not go back to sleep. The little hairball made sure of that.
Tell me again why I have cats?
Tell me again why I have cats?
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
I, apparently, cannot handle having long fingernails. My nails are finally, inexplicably, healthy again, and have grown long and strong and really quite nice looking, if I do say so myself. The plan is to keep them this way until the wedding and then cut them short again after things settle down and I'm ready to take up guitar practice again. Trouble is, I can't seem to go two days without clawing myself. As if having two feisty cats wasn't bad enough. My hands are covered in cuts and scratches right now, every one of them self-inflicted. The nails might not make it until the wedding.
I bring this up because I just somehow sliced open the base of my left pinky with one of my nails, and it's bleeding like a stuck pig. Good times.
Today has been pretty busy. I had a feeling that once I started to get a writing groove going here at work business would pick up and interrupt it, and sure enough.... It's just as well, though, because I'm having something of a crisis of confidence, or, I s'pose, a lack thereof. I can't tell whether anything I write is any good and I'm wondering if I should keep bothering, if I can still call myself a writer, if I still even want to be a writer, because it's so much easier just to go to work and be a glorified secretary and then go home and be a daughter and wife-to-be and not have to worry about being anything else. I still fantasize about being a successful working author, but those fantasies are becoming less tangible, feeling less like an ambition and more like a "wouldn't that be nice?" sort of indulgence, like what would happen if I won the lottery.
Of course I realize that this is mainly fear speaking. Fear that I'm not good enough, or that even if I am talented and skilled enough I still don't have what it takes, like for example the attention span necessary to finish a damn book, let alone stick with it through revisions and queries and submissions and rejections and lather, rinse, repeat.
I'm fairly certain I'll snap out of it. It's not like this is the first time I've ever felt this way, and yet somehow my manuscripts still keep poking along. Maybe it's time to consider joining a critique group. I think both the feedback and the sense of obligation that comes with putting unfinished work in front of people might motivate me, in addition to teaching me a few things. That was certainly what kept me going with the fanfic. I'm afraid, though--the limited stuff I've posted here has received little to no reaction, and I tend to assume that you can't say something nice, so you're saying nothing at all. And I know you guys like my writing, or at least you liked my fic. So putting it before strangers who are there to be brutally honest is a scary, scary proposition. But, I think, a necessary one.
So: anybody know any good fiction critiquing groups? Ones that aren't dedicated to fanfic? Or aren't, y'know, filled with fandom folks who still hate me?
I bring this up because I just somehow sliced open the base of my left pinky with one of my nails, and it's bleeding like a stuck pig. Good times.
Today has been pretty busy. I had a feeling that once I started to get a writing groove going here at work business would pick up and interrupt it, and sure enough.... It's just as well, though, because I'm having something of a crisis of confidence, or, I s'pose, a lack thereof. I can't tell whether anything I write is any good and I'm wondering if I should keep bothering, if I can still call myself a writer, if I still even want to be a writer, because it's so much easier just to go to work and be a glorified secretary and then go home and be a daughter and wife-to-be and not have to worry about being anything else. I still fantasize about being a successful working author, but those fantasies are becoming less tangible, feeling less like an ambition and more like a "wouldn't that be nice?" sort of indulgence, like what would happen if I won the lottery.
Of course I realize that this is mainly fear speaking. Fear that I'm not good enough, or that even if I am talented and skilled enough I still don't have what it takes, like for example the attention span necessary to finish a damn book, let alone stick with it through revisions and queries and submissions and rejections and lather, rinse, repeat.
I'm fairly certain I'll snap out of it. It's not like this is the first time I've ever felt this way, and yet somehow my manuscripts still keep poking along. Maybe it's time to consider joining a critique group. I think both the feedback and the sense of obligation that comes with putting unfinished work in front of people might motivate me, in addition to teaching me a few things. That was certainly what kept me going with the fanfic. I'm afraid, though--the limited stuff I've posted here has received little to no reaction, and I tend to assume that you can't say something nice, so you're saying nothing at all. And I know you guys like my writing, or at least you liked my fic. So putting it before strangers who are there to be brutally honest is a scary, scary proposition. But, I think, a necessary one.
So: anybody know any good fiction critiquing groups? Ones that aren't dedicated to fanfic? Or aren't, y'know, filled with fandom folks who still hate me?
Monday, June 19, 2006
I have fuzzy-brain today. Not sure why--I got plenty of sleep last night and I don't feel sick or allergic or anything. Still a little pouty over losing my ring auction, but you wouldn't think that would cause brain-fog. I ate lunch and took my brain vitamins and made myself a cup of chai spice tea. Maybe my head will clear up soon as a result. *sips tea*
Actually, now that I've mentioned it, my sinuses do feel a bit stuffy. I think I've found the culprit. *washes down Sudafed Sinus with more tea*
I'm not rushing to bid on any of my back-up choice rings, having discovered that I don't like any of them nearly so well as I did when I thought I wouldn't really have to settle on any of them. I'm going to wait a while and see if anything else catches my fancy the way that first one did. Maybe I'll go ahead and leave it up to Matt to pick one out and surprise me. At least now he's seen how my tastes run.
Anyway. The weekend was good. Friday night I only ended up working until a quarter past 6, after which I went to the mall where I procured a very flattering new honeymoon-cruise-worthy bathing suit, the new Dresden novel, a Chinese paper lantern for my dining nook (or possibly bedroom, I haven't decided yet), and, speaking of Chinese, a yummy, yummy egg roll. I also stopped by Victoria's Secret to see if they had a gift registry for my bachelorette lingerie shower. In case you were wondering, they don't. Just as well, as I didn't really love anything I saw in there, anyway.
The rest of my weekend was spent mostly reading said novel, interrupted now and then by stints of cleaning and eating and ring-bidding and putting fringe on a shawl and Farscape and Battlestar Galactica viewing with Matt. On 'Scape he's finally up to Scorpius, which makes me stupidly happy. He's also witnessed John's first full-blown crazy. I managed not to warn him to get used to it.
I'm still working through the novel. I'll probably have plenty to say about it when I'm finished.
Oh, and I have to mention the breakfast quesadilla I threw together for brunch the other day, inspired by watching Sandra Lee semi-homemake these prosciutto & goat cheese quesadillas. Mine were nothing like hers, but they were still pretty damn good, and involved scrambled egg(white)s with lime-cilantro salsa and Canadian bacon layered under two strips of turkey bacon, sauteed bell pepper slices and provolone, folded in a whole wheat tortilla and lightly fried in olive oil until the tortilla got crispy and the cheese got melty. 'Twas yum.
And now my head is clear, mostly. The Sudafed must be working.
Actually, now that I've mentioned it, my sinuses do feel a bit stuffy. I think I've found the culprit. *washes down Sudafed Sinus with more tea*
I'm not rushing to bid on any of my back-up choice rings, having discovered that I don't like any of them nearly so well as I did when I thought I wouldn't really have to settle on any of them. I'm going to wait a while and see if anything else catches my fancy the way that first one did. Maybe I'll go ahead and leave it up to Matt to pick one out and surprise me. At least now he's seen how my tastes run.
Anyway. The weekend was good. Friday night I only ended up working until a quarter past 6, after which I went to the mall where I procured a very flattering new honeymoon-cruise-worthy bathing suit, the new Dresden novel, a Chinese paper lantern for my dining nook (or possibly bedroom, I haven't decided yet), and, speaking of Chinese, a yummy, yummy egg roll. I also stopped by Victoria's Secret to see if they had a gift registry for my bachelorette lingerie shower. In case you were wondering, they don't. Just as well, as I didn't really love anything I saw in there, anyway.
The rest of my weekend was spent mostly reading said novel, interrupted now and then by stints of cleaning and eating and ring-bidding and putting fringe on a shawl and Farscape and Battlestar Galactica viewing with Matt. On 'Scape he's finally up to Scorpius, which makes me stupidly happy. He's also witnessed John's first full-blown crazy. I managed not to warn him to get used to it.
I'm still working through the novel. I'll probably have plenty to say about it when I'm finished.
Oh, and I have to mention the breakfast quesadilla I threw together for brunch the other day, inspired by watching Sandra Lee semi-homemake these prosciutto & goat cheese quesadillas. Mine were nothing like hers, but they were still pretty damn good, and involved scrambled egg(white)s with lime-cilantro salsa and Canadian bacon layered under two strips of turkey bacon, sauteed bell pepper slices and provolone, folded in a whole wheat tortilla and lightly fried in olive oil until the tortilla got crispy and the cheese got melty. 'Twas yum.
And now my head is clear, mostly. The Sudafed must be working.
I didn't get my ring. We were the only/high bidder until about two minutes ago, when some asshole swooped in and placed a maximum bid for higher than we can afford, higher than I believe the ring is actually worth, not counting sentimental value and how much I really believed that that was meant to be my ring. I'm seriously going to cry. At least I kept bidding and drove the price high enough that they're not getting the bargain I'm sure they were hoping for.
At least my second choice is "Buy it now" so I don't have to be disappointed like this again.
Damn, I loved that ring.
At least my second choice is "Buy it now" so I don't have to be disappointed like this again.
Damn, I loved that ring.
Friday, June 16, 2006
My plans to get up and go shopping in the morning are once again foiled, this time by the fact that my mom needs her van tomorrow, which will leave me stranded. I'm considering getting Matt to let me drive him to work and pick him up so that I can have the car all day. Otherwise I'll have to do my shopping tonight, while I'm tired and rushing to finish before the stores close. No fun, and it sounds like I might have to work late tonight anyway. There are five seven(!) eight (!!) outgoing production jobs that have to be FedExed out tonight. None of them are mine, but I promised CAG that I wouldn't leave her to do them all by herself. Hello, overtime! Goodnight, quality time with Matt. At least if I go with shopping plan B I can make it up on the car ride in the morning.
By the by, I've been looking at vintage wedding rings on eBay, and I think I've found my true love. I also found a few runners up in case we lose that auction. But we've got a date tomorrow afternoon to make a bid for it. *fingers crossed* Matt's a little apprehensive about getting my ring off of eBay, and he feels like it takes all the romance out of it, but I say piffle. It's a gorgeous ring, and it's totally me, and there'll be plenty of romance when he puts it on my finger.
And now I have to go pick up sandwiches for a conference room full of people. Ciao!
By the by, I've been looking at vintage wedding rings on eBay, and I think I've found my true love. I also found a few runners up in case we lose that auction. But we've got a date tomorrow afternoon to make a bid for it. *fingers crossed* Matt's a little apprehensive about getting my ring off of eBay, and he feels like it takes all the romance out of it, but I say piffle. It's a gorgeous ring, and it's totally me, and there'll be plenty of romance when he puts it on my finger.
And now I have to go pick up sandwiches for a conference room full of people. Ciao!
"Buffy and Angel Movies Not Happening.": "Joss says money issues led to demise of Spike, Faith and Willow movies." via Whedonesque
I can't say I'm too sad about this. I mean, of course Spike can't star in his own movie when he's all Shanshu'd and busy making all those tiny, tiny babies with Buffy.
*covers ears and sings* La la la...
I can't say I'm too sad about this. I mean, of course Spike can't star in his own movie when he's all Shanshu'd and busy making all those tiny, tiny babies with Buffy.
*covers ears and sings* La la la...
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Haven't done one of these in a while.
* Google Reader is my new friend. It's like an FList for the whole internet with none of the high school style politics [/bitter]. It's still in beta so all of the kinks aren't worked out yet, but it sure makes all of my blog surfing less obvious to passersby outside my cubicle.
* I'm getting sick of my homemade turkey/swiss/whole wheat Ritz cracker lunchables, and also of being cooped up in an office all day, so I think I'm going out for lunch today, even if it's just to run down to the Taco Bueno drive through and pick up some Zone-friendly soft tacos. Ooh, or better yet, I may hit Wendy's for a bowl of chili and a salad. Hmmm...
* Crap, now I'm hungry.
* After much debate with myself, I added a counter tracker to this page (scroll to the bottom to see it, you sexy visitor, you). That kind of goes against the whole "I blog for me" mission statement of this blog, but at least now when I don't post anything comment-worthy I can still tell if anybody's still looking, or if I scared everybody away with my religious babbling.
* Which, if that's the case, then I can feel free to get as religious as I like (don't worry, I don't like to get very religious very often) and post links like this one to some downloadable sermons by Matt's pastor friend whose teaching we both enjoy.
* Speaking of Matt--the number of inches that it's acceptable to leave the window open is, I admit, a stupid thing to argue about, at least on the surface. But when you have cats and flimsy window screens and are up two-and-a-half stories from the ground, I think it merits some discussion, especially when talking about leaving it open overnight while said cats will be unsupervised. For the record, the maximum that will let me enjoy anxiety-free sleep is four inches.
* Last night I dreamed that Anthony Bourdain died of a heart attack, and only after my family was summoned to his funeral did I realize that he was my long lost cousin Tony whom I hadn't seen since I was wee, and I felt really bad for never recognizing him when I watched his show. Analyze that one as you will.
* I'm still hungry. Mmm, chili salad.
* Google Reader is my new friend. It's like an FList for the whole internet with none of the high school style politics [/bitter]. It's still in beta so all of the kinks aren't worked out yet, but it sure makes all of my blog surfing less obvious to passersby outside my cubicle.
* I'm getting sick of my homemade turkey/swiss/whole wheat Ritz cracker lunchables, and also of being cooped up in an office all day, so I think I'm going out for lunch today, even if it's just to run down to the Taco Bueno drive through and pick up some Zone-friendly soft tacos. Ooh, or better yet, I may hit Wendy's for a bowl of chili and a salad. Hmmm...
* Crap, now I'm hungry.
* After much debate with myself, I added a counter tracker to this page (scroll to the bottom to see it, you sexy visitor, you). That kind of goes against the whole "I blog for me" mission statement of this blog, but at least now when I don't post anything comment-worthy I can still tell if anybody's still looking, or if I scared everybody away with my religious babbling.
* Which, if that's the case, then I can feel free to get as religious as I like (don't worry, I don't like to get very religious very often) and post links like this one to some downloadable sermons by Matt's pastor friend whose teaching we both enjoy.
* Speaking of Matt--the number of inches that it's acceptable to leave the window open is, I admit, a stupid thing to argue about, at least on the surface. But when you have cats and flimsy window screens and are up two-and-a-half stories from the ground, I think it merits some discussion, especially when talking about leaving it open overnight while said cats will be unsupervised. For the record, the maximum that will let me enjoy anxiety-free sleep is four inches.
* Last night I dreamed that Anthony Bourdain died of a heart attack, and only after my family was summoned to his funeral did I realize that he was my long lost cousin Tony whom I hadn't seen since I was wee, and I felt really bad for never recognizing him when I watched his show. Analyze that one as you will.
* I'm still hungry. Mmm, chili salad.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
So I found out my fave teacher didn't die from cancer, at least not directly. Turns out she was in remission and doing really well. Well enough to re-plant her garden, which is what she was doing when a copperhead snake bit her. Her immune system was still too weak from all the cancer and chemo to fight off the poison. She died before they could give her an antidote.
Damn, but that sucks.
What's really ironic is that that's just the sort of morbid example she loved to use to explain the concept of irony.
Damn, but that sucks.
What's really ironic is that that's just the sort of morbid example she loved to use to explain the concept of irony.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Peggy Orr was my high school English teacher from grades 9 through 11. She was also, I believe, the first teacher to recognize that I was not lazy or careless, but that I had special needs. She never came right out and suggested that I had a learning disorder. ADD wasn't even yet part of our vocabulary in that small town rural school. Yet where all of my other teachers sang a constant chorus about "potential" and "laziness" and "underachiever who'll never amount to anything," Mrs. Orr seemed to intuit that all I needed was a little patience and understanding, along with a lot of help with organization and prioritization. Consequently, she was the first teacher to make me believe that I truly did have potential, and that with the right strategies I was capable of realizing it. Soon after my English grades started to rise, the rest of my grades followed. Mrs. Orr didn't throw up her hands and give up on me. She pushed, and pushed, and pushed some more until I got it through my beaten-down head that I could be a good student, and that I could succeed at life. I owe her a lot. I don't think she ever knew just how much. Hopefully, now she knows. Hopefully, she'll be well rewarded for it in the afterlife.
Mrs. Orr died on Saturday of cancer complications. She was 60 years old. She was the coolest teacher I could have hoped to have. My thoughts and prayers are with her family.
Mrs. Orr died on Saturday of cancer complications. She was 60 years old. She was the coolest teacher I could have hoped to have. My thoughts and prayers are with her family.
Monday, June 12, 2006
The other day I got a nice check from my former employer along with a very sweet letter from the organization's president thanking me for my loyalty and hard work even though I knew that they were closing the local office and putting me out of a job. The letter is going straight into my reference file. The check is going into the wedding ring fund, which means that most of the future payments that I'd designated for that fund can now go for something else, like, say, a honeymoon fun money fund. Or maybe a wedding day beautification fund. The point is: Yay bonus!
This cat is mighty.
...Or the bear's the true puss in this picture. Either way, it's funny.
Via Neil Gaiman
...Or the bear's the true puss in this picture. Either way, it's funny.
Via Neil Gaiman
I think I finally figured out my writer's block problems. I'm trying to write my novels linearly. Why? Why am I doing this to myself? Why has it not occurred to me once before now that this could be why I'm so stuck? I've never been a linear story-teller. I've always written first the scenes that most capture my imagination and then worry about connecting them later. Sometimes I even write backwards, beginning with the ending and working my way back from there. I've completed many a well-received novel-length Buffy fic this way. This is also how I finished my first (permanently consigned to the bottom drawer) novel. So why am I making writing such hell for myself by trying to write both of my current novels in linear order?
Well, I'm knocking that nonsense off right now. Jump ahead in Hero Factor to a scene I've been turning over in my brain for two years now, and voila, I can write again. It was as simple as that. And it's taken me about a year of feeling stuck and uninspired to figure that out.
This is why I'm a dumbass.
Well, I'm knocking that nonsense off right now. Jump ahead in Hero Factor to a scene I've been turning over in my brain for two years now, and voila, I can write again. It was as simple as that. And it's taken me about a year of feeling stuck and uninspired to figure that out.
This is why I'm a dumbass.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Today I'm writing. Not much--I've managed about a dozen words so far, but that's more fiction than I've written in weeks, and at least it's a start. I've poked and prodded and made blue pencil markings on a print out of my talking bird short story, but every time I've contemplated doing any actual writing on it, I've either gotten happily distracted by work or I've intimidated myself into putting it off until I've worked out one more sudoku. But my mild freak-out about the fairy novel has inspired me to start working on that one again. I haven't been able to get it off my mind the last couple of days, and for me that's generally the best time to plunge in and start working on something. Just when I'd almost talked myself into laying down my fancy writing pen and content myself with just being a hobbyist...
Tomorrow I'm going with Tess to a matinee of The Lion King. This would be the hyped up Broadway musical puppet show version. I'm looking forward to it, but I know there's no way it can live up to the hype it's getting. This town hasn't gone so nutso over a Broadway tour since Phantom came through ten years ago at the height of it's popularity. Still, it should be fun.
Ooh, and speaking of Broadway, the Tonys are this Sunday! Is Hugh Jackman hosting this year? Or is he too busy being Wolverine?
And speaking of this town going nutso, the big local news earlier this week was that Oprah showed up in town last weekend and crashed a couple of wedding receptions. Oh, but it's okay because she stopped at Dillard's first (where her friend Gail bought herself a purse, which is also, apparently, a newsworthy item) and picked up sets of dishes for the happy couples. And also because she's Oprah, which of course means that any bride would be thrilled to have her show up unannounced at their wedding. Any bride except me, I guess. Where as the brides interviewed on the local news were all, "OMG Oprah was at my wedding! OMG I'll never forget this day as long as I live not because it's the day I joined myself to my beloved until death do us part but because OPRAH WAS THERE OMG!!!eleventy-one!!!" I think I'd be a little more like, "Uh, yeah, thanks for taking the spotlight on my big day, Oprah. I hope those dishes didn't put too big a dent in your budget, like when you buy other people things like cars and college scholarships and paid dream honeymoons and whatall. Dishes. Wow. So who wants cake?"
Tomorrow I'm going with Tess to a matinee of The Lion King. This would be the hyped up Broadway musical puppet show version. I'm looking forward to it, but I know there's no way it can live up to the hype it's getting. This town hasn't gone so nutso over a Broadway tour since Phantom came through ten years ago at the height of it's popularity. Still, it should be fun.
Ooh, and speaking of Broadway, the Tonys are this Sunday! Is Hugh Jackman hosting this year? Or is he too busy being Wolverine?
And speaking of this town going nutso, the big local news earlier this week was that Oprah showed up in town last weekend and crashed a couple of wedding receptions. Oh, but it's okay because she stopped at Dillard's first (where her friend Gail bought herself a purse, which is also, apparently, a newsworthy item) and picked up sets of dishes for the happy couples. And also because she's Oprah, which of course means that any bride would be thrilled to have her show up unannounced at their wedding. Any bride except me, I guess. Where as the brides interviewed on the local news were all, "OMG Oprah was at my wedding! OMG I'll never forget this day as long as I live not because it's the day I joined myself to my beloved until death do us part but because OPRAH WAS THERE OMG!!!eleventy-one!!!" I think I'd be a little more like, "Uh, yeah, thanks for taking the spotlight on my big day, Oprah. I hope those dishes didn't put too big a dent in your budget, like when you buy other people things like cars and college scholarships and paid dream honeymoons and whatall. Dishes. Wow. So who wants cake?"
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
I just noticed a sticky note on my monitor from CAG telling me she's in a meeting until 9 and I need to hold down the fort. Of course, it's well after 9 and she's back at her desk now.
Anyway. There's fresh wedding blather here.
And while I'm on the subject of the wedding, it looks like Matt's going to have to do the wedding on crutches. The necessary adjustments to his prosthesis are still tied up in red tape, and by now there's just no way he'll get his leg adjusted and get the physical therapy he needs in time. I'm disappointed for him, because I know how important it was for him to be able to walk at his own wedding. But maybe I can pick him up a pair of spiffy black crutches to go with his tux.
Anyway. There's fresh wedding blather here.
And while I'm on the subject of the wedding, it looks like Matt's going to have to do the wedding on crutches. The necessary adjustments to his prosthesis are still tied up in red tape, and by now there's just no way he'll get his leg adjusted and get the physical therapy he needs in time. I'm disappointed for him, because I know how important it was for him to be able to walk at his own wedding. But maybe I can pick him up a pair of spiffy black crutches to go with his tux.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Some days it's amazing that I even survive the drive to work without doing myself in. Like today, f'r'instance, which started out with me not only taking the wrong car (while we save up to fix Matt's truck I've been driving my mom's minivan to work most days. On Tuesdays, his day off, I'm supposed to take my own car. Today is Tuesday. I drove the van), despite checking to make sure I had the gas money Matt gave me and thinking about where I would stop to fill up the car as I climbed into the van; I also almost backed it out right through the closed garage door. Thankfully, I looked behind me just in time to hit the brakes and avoid a whole lot of morning drama. And I don't even want to go into the close call I had while making a left turn onto a slick, rainsoaked and very busy highway all because I got distracted and forgot how right of way works.
Continuing the addle-brained theme I've got going here this week, did I tell you about my trip to the post office the other day? The one where I mapquested directions to the one nearest my workplace and followed them, necessating three left turns on two major streets during the lunchtime rush, only to realize that I'd driven in a big unnecesary circle and that the post office sat right behind my building along the access road that runs beside it? And I could have walked over there? Not to mention finding it just by looking out the window? I didn't? Okay then, let's keep it that way.
~~~
On the brighter side this morning, here's something that hasn't happened to me before in any of my previous jobs: an engineer and I met up at the coffee pot where there was only one cup's worth left. I offered to let him have it, but he said no, go ahead, he'd just make more. Seriously, y'all, that felt like a promotion. Everywhere else I've worked it would have been "Hey look, Jean, we're almost out of coffee. You'd better make some more." I'm not in charge of the coffee anymore! Movin' on up...
Continuing the addle-brained theme I've got going here this week, did I tell you about my trip to the post office the other day? The one where I mapquested directions to the one nearest my workplace and followed them, necessating three left turns on two major streets during the lunchtime rush, only to realize that I'd driven in a big unnecesary circle and that the post office sat right behind my building along the access road that runs beside it? And I could have walked over there? Not to mention finding it just by looking out the window? I didn't? Okay then, let's keep it that way.
~~~
On the brighter side this morning, here's something that hasn't happened to me before in any of my previous jobs: an engineer and I met up at the coffee pot where there was only one cup's worth left. I offered to let him have it, but he said no, go ahead, he'd just make more. Seriously, y'all, that felt like a promotion. Everywhere else I've worked it would have been "Hey look, Jean, we're almost out of coffee. You'd better make some more." I'm not in charge of the coffee anymore! Movin' on up...
Monday, June 05, 2006
So my back-burnered manuscript The Hero Factor (remember the one about the fantasy hero TV star (who in my mind is an amalgam of James Marsters and, coincidentally, Bruce Campbell) and the faeries?) has the same basic plotline as this in-production Bruce Campbell project.
As an author I'm frustrated and appalled. As a fangirl I'm totally giddy. It's a very confusing place to be.
As an author I'm frustrated and appalled. As a fangirl I'm totally giddy. It's a very confusing place to be.
Today begins my fourth week in this office, and only just now did I realize that there's a coffee kitchen right near my cubicle, which is much, much closer than the one I've been walking to for refills.
Speaking of ADD nuttiness. Sigh.
Speaking of ADD nuttiness. Sigh.
This post by Doug Cootey about “closing the gap” between the moment you recognize a debilitating affect (i.e., depression) and the moment of onset has a ring of truth to it, as well as a ring of familiarity. I realized as I read it that it describes pretty much the same process that, as a Christian, I use to move from recognizing that I’ve committed a sinful behavior and need to repent to recognizing that I’m about to sin and need to make the decision not to.
This sounds like such a simplistic approach to dealing with something as complex as a mental disorder, but I also realized that I’ve been intuitively applying this process to both my ADD behaviors and my monthly hormonal depression and moodiness for years. Just as it hasn’t eliminated sin from my life (and never will), it hasn’t eliminated disruptive behaviors, but it has managed to lessen both the frequency and impact of both on my life as well as the lives of my loved ones.
And it occurred to me, what is sin but the ultimate mental illness? I believe in the concept of original sin (and for the record, it’s not my intent with this post to preach at you; I’m simply drawing a comparison), that basically since the fall we’re all hardwired toward selfish, sinful behavior. Just like I’m hardwired toward distractibility, zoning out and getting anxious about how my time is used, just like others are hardwired toward depression. Just like every single one of us have at least one bad habit that is simply a result of our programming and not something we consciously choose or even want to do.
But the thing is, you can overcome sin. I believe it’s done by the grace of God, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have to do our part in choosing and actively working to improve our behavior. It can be done. We are not slaves to our wiring. If this is true of the ultimate debilitating disorder, one that every single one of us suffer, then shouldn’t it be true of “lesser” disorders like ADD and depression (and just to be perfectly clear, IN NO WAY am I saying or trying to imply that ADD, depression or any other mental disorder is a sin. Contrary to what a lot of my fellow Christians seem to believe, it is NOT a sin to have negative feelings. Nor is it a sin to seek professional help when those negative feelings start to control your life. Again: comparison)? I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. If I can overcome sin ruling my life, I can certainly overcome letting my days be ruled by ADD or hormones, and I’m realizing that I can do it by much the same process I use to deal with gossiping or grumbling or holding grudges or a myriad of other sins I try to overcome on a daily basis.
But even if you’re not a Christian I think this method can work. The first step is to accept that a problem exists. The second step is to recognize that it’s up to you (and this is a general “you” which includes me) to take responsibility to work to change it. But as Doug points out, just as with any bad habit, you have to want to change, more than you want to keep doing or giving into whatever it is that’s creating the problem. But that’s the beauty of being human—we CAN change. We DO have choices, and we are NOT slaves to our wiring.
The trick, as outlined in Doug’s essay, is to move from recognizing that we’ve done a thing or let a thing control us to recognizing that we’re about to, and getting to the point where we can make a conscious choice. Just like I made a choice to write this response instead of clicking through and surfing my way to distraction. Just like I made a choice to get up Saturday morning and clean out the closet instead of letting myself sit around feeling overwhelmed and depressed about how much there is to do around the house and look for ways to avoid even thinking about it. And just like I realized that I was getting moody with Matt yesterday for no good reason and managed to talk myself out of being irritable with him. It’s a constant struggle, and not something I think I’ll ever stop having to work very hard at, but it’s worth it for how much it improves the quality of my life and my relationships.
In short: excellent advice, Doug.
~~~
In other news: my foot still hurts; X-Men 3 was a little disappointing; Matt’s side of the bedroom closet is empty and ready for him to move his stuff in (after the wedding, natch); and we are now registered at Target, who gives you a cute little tote bag filled with catalogues and stuff when you register in the store. Yay Target!
This sounds like such a simplistic approach to dealing with something as complex as a mental disorder, but I also realized that I’ve been intuitively applying this process to both my ADD behaviors and my monthly hormonal depression and moodiness for years. Just as it hasn’t eliminated sin from my life (and never will), it hasn’t eliminated disruptive behaviors, but it has managed to lessen both the frequency and impact of both on my life as well as the lives of my loved ones.
And it occurred to me, what is sin but the ultimate mental illness? I believe in the concept of original sin (and for the record, it’s not my intent with this post to preach at you; I’m simply drawing a comparison), that basically since the fall we’re all hardwired toward selfish, sinful behavior. Just like I’m hardwired toward distractibility, zoning out and getting anxious about how my time is used, just like others are hardwired toward depression. Just like every single one of us have at least one bad habit that is simply a result of our programming and not something we consciously choose or even want to do.
But the thing is, you can overcome sin. I believe it’s done by the grace of God, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have to do our part in choosing and actively working to improve our behavior. It can be done. We are not slaves to our wiring. If this is true of the ultimate debilitating disorder, one that every single one of us suffer, then shouldn’t it be true of “lesser” disorders like ADD and depression (and just to be perfectly clear, IN NO WAY am I saying or trying to imply that ADD, depression or any other mental disorder is a sin. Contrary to what a lot of my fellow Christians seem to believe, it is NOT a sin to have negative feelings. Nor is it a sin to seek professional help when those negative feelings start to control your life. Again: comparison)? I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. If I can overcome sin ruling my life, I can certainly overcome letting my days be ruled by ADD or hormones, and I’m realizing that I can do it by much the same process I use to deal with gossiping or grumbling or holding grudges or a myriad of other sins I try to overcome on a daily basis.
But even if you’re not a Christian I think this method can work. The first step is to accept that a problem exists. The second step is to recognize that it’s up to you (and this is a general “you” which includes me) to take responsibility to work to change it. But as Doug points out, just as with any bad habit, you have to want to change, more than you want to keep doing or giving into whatever it is that’s creating the problem. But that’s the beauty of being human—we CAN change. We DO have choices, and we are NOT slaves to our wiring.
The trick, as outlined in Doug’s essay, is to move from recognizing that we’ve done a thing or let a thing control us to recognizing that we’re about to, and getting to the point where we can make a conscious choice. Just like I made a choice to write this response instead of clicking through and surfing my way to distraction. Just like I made a choice to get up Saturday morning and clean out the closet instead of letting myself sit around feeling overwhelmed and depressed about how much there is to do around the house and look for ways to avoid even thinking about it. And just like I realized that I was getting moody with Matt yesterday for no good reason and managed to talk myself out of being irritable with him. It’s a constant struggle, and not something I think I’ll ever stop having to work very hard at, but it’s worth it for how much it improves the quality of my life and my relationships.
In short: excellent advice, Doug.
~~~
In other news: my foot still hurts; X-Men 3 was a little disappointing; Matt’s side of the bedroom closet is empty and ready for him to move his stuff in (after the wedding, natch); and we are now registered at Target, who gives you a cute little tote bag filled with catalogues and stuff when you register in the store. Yay Target!
Friday, June 02, 2006
My foot hurts when I walk on it. It feels like I mildly sprained something somewhere in the region of my arch. I suppose this is what I get for not being sensible about my footwear this week. Sigh. And ow.
It's a long, long day that feels like it will never end. I'm in a poor state of mind, partly because of my foot, and partly (mostly) because Matt was irritable with me for some reason when I tried to say goodbye on my way out, and he failed to kiss me goodbye, and I've spent the entire day feeling unwanted, and feeling silly for feeling unwanted, and generally feeling sorry for myself and frustrated with my inability to snap out of it. And it's been a ridiculously slow workday that has provided very little in the way of distractions to help me get over it. And I hate that I still let his morning mood shape my entire day. Exactly when did I become so fricking needy? Sigh some more.
Anyway. Tonight I think I'm going with my mom, L'il Sis and Ash to attend a test run at a new restaurant that my brother's inlaws bought for their chef son. Should be interesting. The last time I ate a meal that he prepared the chicken was dangerously undercooked, but that was years ago before he attended chef school, so surely by now he's learned how to properly cook chicken. In all fairness, aside from the potential food poisoning, that last meal was pretty tasty, so I'm expecting good food tonight. Maybe if I hit up the cash bar enough times the alcohol will sterilize any bacteria that makes it into the mix. It's a theory worth trying.
It's a long, long day that feels like it will never end. I'm in a poor state of mind, partly because of my foot, and partly (mostly) because Matt was irritable with me for some reason when I tried to say goodbye on my way out, and he failed to kiss me goodbye, and I've spent the entire day feeling unwanted, and feeling silly for feeling unwanted, and generally feeling sorry for myself and frustrated with my inability to snap out of it. And it's been a ridiculously slow workday that has provided very little in the way of distractions to help me get over it. And I hate that I still let his morning mood shape my entire day. Exactly when did I become so fricking needy? Sigh some more.
Anyway. Tonight I think I'm going with my mom, L'il Sis and Ash to attend a test run at a new restaurant that my brother's inlaws bought for their chef son. Should be interesting. The last time I ate a meal that he prepared the chicken was dangerously undercooked, but that was years ago before he attended chef school, so surely by now he's learned how to properly cook chicken. In all fairness, aside from the potential food poisoning, that last meal was pretty tasty, so I'm expecting good food tonight. Maybe if I hit up the cash bar enough times the alcohol will sterilize any bacteria that makes it into the mix. It's a theory worth trying.