[Error: unknown template video]
THE BITCH IS GONE.
THE THIEF THAT TOOK MY BUS PASS IS GONE.
THE BITCH THAT STOLE MY BOSS'S INHALER IS GONE.
THE (probable) THIEF BEHIND MISSING XANAX IS GONE.
I'm celebrating with a pair of personal pizzas (homemade from scratch, of course), chocolate, and chips.
Then a hot soak. I've earned it.
...though I think this'll be my last cheat day for a while.
Hello again. New to this series? Then I offer the words of Harold Budd to you:
( Read more... )
However vague the unknown place or star,
From a thousand years from now
I say Hello.
--“Nine (A Thousand Years From Now),” Harold Budd, Colorful Fortune.
It took all of my self control to not squee when I opened my email today at work after my shift ended. I always check my mail after the shift ends, just in case someone posted a comment and I need to keep track of it. I got ready to hit the refresh button on my main mail page when suddenly I get a jingle first—my other account just got a mail.
Ok, fine. Switch over…
… … …
Voice of Distant Worlds.
Winner of twelve awards in Detroit.
IS FOLLOWING MY TUMBLR.
…You can probably guess that there was a lot of flailing and dancing and squeeing when I got home.
OMG. OMG OMG OMG OMG
AND LOOK WHO'S PLAYING AS A CERTAIN VIGILANTE
OMG OMFG I KNEW THEY WOULD GET HIM AS SAITO YES I SO ZETTA CALLED IT
...There will be a 100 Things post once I've finished fangirling. And explaining what that high pitched squeal was and that yes I am fine no need to dial 911.
I kid, I kid. You’re all sweethearts. Maybe a little insane, but hey—who isn’t?
So today’s the birthday. I’m stepping out today and having some fun—hopefully not spending too much money out there, though I’d like a crow-nib pen. Several things have yet to be done:
· I gotta review this new posting/archive client I’ve switched to,
· I gotta get my hair done (this’ll probably wait until next Sunday),
· I gotta pay a couple bills (this’ll probably wait until the last minute on Thursday), and
· I gotta get my data retrieved (ANY TIME NOW >.>).
I’ve also got to mop the floor, but I figure that can wait until I get back home, just in case I get caught in one of the spot showers they’re expecting today.
Posting’s been screwy because the client I used to use, Windows Live Writer, has been glitchy and unusable for about a month. Backlog entries of Pastry!Arc intended to go up over at Conchordia have been rendered unusable because for some reason, WLW has been breaking the layouts that I use. And until I get all of my data together (out of order documents were out of order, and a few files are in the wrong place—the place that hasn’t been recovered yet), I can’t really catch up easily. I figure I’m going to start dedicating a specific day to working on the backlog.
See what I mean? It works right after a few lines, but then this repeats. I’ll just keep waiting until I hear back from WLW tech support.
It’s also the last day of the sabbatical leave. Tomorrow, I have to go back to work. Luckily, all of my doctors are coordinating, and I’m getting the help I need. It occurred to me yesterday that this would have happened whether I was still with my ex or not—and if I’d been with him still when this happened, he’d probably be in a big heap of trouble, since—well, yeah. That’s drama I’d like to avoid.
In a little less than an hour, I’m out the door for some fun with Mamá—basically running around stores, talking smack about people, eating junk food, and more caffeine than is probably safe.
BIG FUN IN OTHER WORDS =D
-TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER-
5:27 AM. I wake up not because of my alarm, but because my phone’s low battery tone has gone off. I curse myself first for being such a light sleeper and second for forgetting to plug up the brick that my charger’s attached to. I plug the thing up and reset the alarm for 9:30 or so, praying that the charger’s work will be done by the time I wake up. Day hasn’t even started and Tosca’s Fuck Dub is in my head again—I get the feeling that this is just going to be one of those damned days…
BECAUSE I’M GONNA CELEBRATE LIKE A FOOL.
THAT IS THE PROJECT TARGETS FILE FOR DA’ATH EXODUS. Note the green bar, the improper fraction produced by the total word count, and the BIG GLOWING GREEN SUCCESS italicized underneath the Session Target ‘bar.’
(And yes, I know the word “Success” is off-center. Outdated software and I don’t know the first thing about this, OK?)
NaNoWriMo requires a 50K word count for win. But this story wasn’t done in 50K. In fact, one of the most important events hadn’t happened yet. And so, off and on, through sickness and a vile breakup, I’ve kept writing. And at last, the story’s as told as it’s going to be.
…at least, until the first round of EDITING *claw claw teeth-gnash CHOMP* happens. I at last have provided an ENORMOUS uncut BRICK of stone.
Now I’m gonna catch my breath before I break out the chisel, sanding paper, and blasters.
During this project:
- A relationship went to hell.
- I got sick.
- Full recollection of That Thing I Really Don’t Want To Name set in.
- I got sick again.
- A relative died.
- I found out I’d need surgery on my leg, and soon.
- I broke up with my now-ex, who was never very supportive of the writing thing to begin with.
- I GOT SICK AGAIN. (Seriously, am I rolling ALL ONES here on my Fortitude saves?)
But, most importantly:
I finished the shit that I started.
Now, I am going to celebrate by cooking the rice I’ve had soaking for an hour, make a couple of onigiri for work and my errands tomorrow, and prepare the groundwork for Da’ath Revelations.
Aah. I feel good. Now I need much eat. Much, much eat.
YEAH BABY THE GIANTS WON THE SUPER BOWL I TOTALLY PEGGED IT ALL OF IT EVEN THE SCORE WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
*cough* Ahem. Who are you calling undignified?
Goodness, the Les Friction album. *sparkly eyes* So good. I would elaborate but I’m feeling so damn sleepy…
Desperately seeking sleep.
Problem was, I was entirely too hyped up on what had happened to be able to focus on one thing at a time, and that included being able to write a damn thing.
The last time that I had a Saturday that was this exciting was last year, when the bus that I was on the way home from work on was being shot at at one point. Normally nothing else would be as exciting, but yesterday there was something that had me so wired that didn’t get any sleep until earlier today when my blood pressure dropped through the cellar and knocked me out.( We step aside and then across to… )
...I suppose I should explain
WE GET SIGNAL.
MAIN INTERNET TURN ON
NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME I HAVE TO CLEAN MY OVEN AND DO MY THRICE-DAMNED LAUNDRY. …I'M RATHER ATTACHED TO MY ONLY PAIR OF WARM SOCKS.
this this this this this this this this this this— *ad nauseam*
The mailbox hinges have been oiled or something; for once they don’t make a sound when they open. Me, on the other hand—I drop a few fairly sulphurous curses.
I can’t help it.
No, not foodplay. Get your minds out of the gutter, guys. =P
*Also I will admit wanting to test out a new plugin for my LJ client. So both purposes served! Whoo!
Warnings for: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF FOOD.
Also warnings for pictures of food. Do not lick your screen!
I lucked out and started cooking right at the only time the lighting is decent in my apartment. ILU, sunset!( I'M SHOWING OFF! )