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Where did the time go?
Sep. 23rd, 2007 12:25 pmI've been too busy to post. I keep telling myself that I should write posts in here that aren't "here's what I did while I wasn't posting" entries, but I never seem to get around to writing those meaningful, insightful entries. I rather think that I don't have any to write. I've lost the knack of writing analytical text ever since I left university. Besides, I don't know that I'd want to inflict my essay-writing skills on my beleaguered flist, as I seem to recall that I bored myself silly with my own academic writing. I remembered wondering who would ever want to read such dry stuff as I was able to produce. It's not that it wasn't good —it was just really, really dry going.
Anyway, I've had a busy couple of weeks.
I saw an old friend of mine from high school last Saturday, although we didn't have much time to actually catch up as he had to go back to his office right after lunch (he's a lawyer). We did have a nice chat, and wandered through Atwater Market before he had to go, and it was really nice to see him again. Of all my friends in high school (of which there admittedly weren't many), he was the one with whom I got along the best. We're supposed to meet up again at some point in the near future, which ought to be nice. After that I got treated to a lovely private concert in the living room of some family friends, and spent the afternoon and better part of the evening making slightly awkward small talk with three roomfuls of people I didn't know and with whom I had nothing in common. Still, the concert was quite nice. The violinist was a young man, somewhere between nineteen and twenty-one, and he's quite promising. His playing was very adept, although it lacked depth and intonation, but with time I'm guessing he'll turn out quite well.
Sunday was spent hiding from the world recovering from that stupid migraine which started late on Saturday. Annoying in the extreme, as it was a gorgeous day out.
Monday was a writing jam with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
owldaughter, in which I got more writing done in one morning than I had in the past four weeks combined. I'm finally getting back into my ongoing YA novel, and I'd like to have it finished by the end of the year. I might "cheat" and make finishing it my NaNoWriMo project for this year. Either that or I'll write another horror novel, since they appear to write themselves for me.
I forget what I did on Tuesday, but I do remember that I had to be out of the house stupidly early to do it. That's probably why I don't remember: I was still half-asleep. ;)
I met up withai731 on Wednesday morning, and she taught me the mysteries of canning. It's a really fun process, I assume more fun because there were two of us. We went through about three-quarters of the 20lb bag of apples I'd picked, and made apple sauce, apple butter (so very yummmy!) and an apple cake based on her grandmother's recipe, which was so very very delicious that I brought it to work with me so that I wouldn't be tempted to eat the entire thing by myself. I brought half to work, and ai731 kept the other half, naturally. I had to abandon ship just before the end of the session, as I had to go to work, and I just received the last three jars of apple sauce last night. I am very pleased with how the whole thing turned out.
Thursday was spent driving my mother around so she could get some errands done without spending the whole day doing it. Since she doesn't drive, and generally gets around pretty slowly anyway, it's easier for her if I occasionally spend a morning driving her around, and I don't mind doing it in the slightest. I tend to lose my mind if I spend too much time with my parents, but a couple of times a week is enough for me to keep my sanity.
Friday's Ubisoft lunch got canceled for me due to the (not unexpected) passing of my great-aunt Margot at the age of 93. I have very fond memories of her, and of going to her apartment in the Linton for a New Year's Day luncheon every year until I was about eight or nine. After that she moved to a smaller place (I believe it was a residence for relatively independent retired folk who only needed minimal amounts of help to get through the day), and she became a little too frail to be able to put on the spread she really wanted to. None of her three daughters ever kept up with the tradition, and so I sort of lost track of her for a while. We still saw her at the larger family gatherings, but it wasn't really the same.
The funeral itself was interrupted when my cousin Ophelie (the youngest of all the cousins, and one of the two cousins near my age with whom I actually keep up and get along) suffered some kind of seizure or syncope in the middle of the service. She was sitting right next to my father, and the next thing we knew she had turned a horrid shade of green, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped forward. Luckily my aunt (not Ophelie's mother, but another aunt) is a nurse and took over immediately. I was rather grateful not to have to step in and apply my limited first aid skills to the situation. Someone produced a cell phone (a blackberry, I think) and called 911. I spent most of the time keeping people from crowding around, and reassuring people that no, it wasn't taking as long as they thought for the ambulance to get there. I timed it, see, and it took nine minutes from the moment the call was placed to the time the paramedics got there. In times of crisis, people's perception of how quickly time elapses gets seriously distorted.
My mother spoke to my cousin yesterday, as well as my aunt. Ophelie is doing okay, as it turns out, but she's going to have to see a neurologist, as her symptoms were quite alarming (swelling in the throat, stiffening of the extremities, extremely elevated heartrate, etc.). My mother, in true keeping with her nature, has invited her to dinner next Sunday.
After the funeral I took my mother to Juliette & Chocolat for lunch. Egads, it should be illegal to make chocolate that good. I have rarely had anything quite that sinful. I must go back.
Yesterday I got shanghaied by my parents into helping them shop for appliances. God help me. The less said about that, the better. The day improved immeasurably by the time I got toluvenditti's for dinner, and had a wonderful time with all my friends, chatting about movies and books and games and food and all the usual things we end up talking about at these events. I borrowed the movie "Clue" and watched it last night: it's a great deal of fun.
All right, the rest of my day beckons. More updates when I have something to say. ;)
Anyway, I've had a busy couple of weeks.
I saw an old friend of mine from high school last Saturday, although we didn't have much time to actually catch up as he had to go back to his office right after lunch (he's a lawyer). We did have a nice chat, and wandered through Atwater Market before he had to go, and it was really nice to see him again. Of all my friends in high school (of which there admittedly weren't many), he was the one with whom I got along the best. We're supposed to meet up again at some point in the near future, which ought to be nice. After that I got treated to a lovely private concert in the living room of some family friends, and spent the afternoon and better part of the evening making slightly awkward small talk with three roomfuls of people I didn't know and with whom I had nothing in common. Still, the concert was quite nice. The violinist was a young man, somewhere between nineteen and twenty-one, and he's quite promising. His playing was very adept, although it lacked depth and intonation, but with time I'm guessing he'll turn out quite well.
Sunday was spent hiding from the world recovering from that stupid migraine which started late on Saturday. Annoying in the extreme, as it was a gorgeous day out.
Monday was a writing jam with
owldaughter, in which I got more writing done in one morning than I had in the past four weeks combined. I'm finally getting back into my ongoing YA novel, and I'd like to have it finished by the end of the year. I might "cheat" and make finishing it my NaNoWriMo project for this year. Either that or I'll write another horror novel, since they appear to write themselves for me.I forget what I did on Tuesday, but I do remember that I had to be out of the house stupidly early to do it. That's probably why I don't remember: I was still half-asleep. ;)
I met up with
ai731 on Wednesday morning, and she taught me the mysteries of canning. It's a really fun process, I assume more fun because there were two of us. We went through about three-quarters of the 20lb bag of apples I'd picked, and made apple sauce, apple butter (so very yummmy!) and an apple cake based on her grandmother's recipe, which was so very very delicious that I brought it to work with me so that I wouldn't be tempted to eat the entire thing by myself. I brought half to work, and ai731 kept the other half, naturally. I had to abandon ship just before the end of the session, as I had to go to work, and I just received the last three jars of apple sauce last night. I am very pleased with how the whole thing turned out.Thursday was spent driving my mother around so she could get some errands done without spending the whole day doing it. Since she doesn't drive, and generally gets around pretty slowly anyway, it's easier for her if I occasionally spend a morning driving her around, and I don't mind doing it in the slightest. I tend to lose my mind if I spend too much time with my parents, but a couple of times a week is enough for me to keep my sanity.
Friday's Ubisoft lunch got canceled for me due to the (not unexpected) passing of my great-aunt Margot at the age of 93. I have very fond memories of her, and of going to her apartment in the Linton for a New Year's Day luncheon every year until I was about eight or nine. After that she moved to a smaller place (I believe it was a residence for relatively independent retired folk who only needed minimal amounts of help to get through the day), and she became a little too frail to be able to put on the spread she really wanted to. None of her three daughters ever kept up with the tradition, and so I sort of lost track of her for a while. We still saw her at the larger family gatherings, but it wasn't really the same.
The funeral itself was interrupted when my cousin Ophelie (the youngest of all the cousins, and one of the two cousins near my age with whom I actually keep up and get along) suffered some kind of seizure or syncope in the middle of the service. She was sitting right next to my father, and the next thing we knew she had turned a horrid shade of green, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped forward. Luckily my aunt (not Ophelie's mother, but another aunt) is a nurse and took over immediately. I was rather grateful not to have to step in and apply my limited first aid skills to the situation. Someone produced a cell phone (a blackberry, I think) and called 911. I spent most of the time keeping people from crowding around, and reassuring people that no, it wasn't taking as long as they thought for the ambulance to get there. I timed it, see, and it took nine minutes from the moment the call was placed to the time the paramedics got there. In times of crisis, people's perception of how quickly time elapses gets seriously distorted.
My mother spoke to my cousin yesterday, as well as my aunt. Ophelie is doing okay, as it turns out, but she's going to have to see a neurologist, as her symptoms were quite alarming (swelling in the throat, stiffening of the extremities, extremely elevated heartrate, etc.). My mother, in true keeping with her nature, has invited her to dinner next Sunday.
After the funeral I took my mother to Juliette & Chocolat for lunch. Egads, it should be illegal to make chocolate that good. I have rarely had anything quite that sinful. I must go back.
Yesterday I got shanghaied by my parents into helping them shop for appliances. God help me. The less said about that, the better. The day improved immeasurably by the time I got to
luvenditti's for dinner, and had a wonderful time with all my friends, chatting about movies and books and games and food and all the usual things we end up talking about at these events. I borrowed the movie "Clue" and watched it last night: it's a great deal of fun.All right, the rest of my day beckons. More updates when I have something to say. ;)
Open letters do have their uses
Sep. 19th, 2007 12:17 amDear Migraine Fairy,
I understand that you like repeat customers. They mean good business. I understand that I'm one of your best clients, too. However, three migraines in ten days is a little much. Especially since you left me alone for so long. I can only conclude that you're making up for lost time. So, with all due respect, could you spread the lovin' out a little? Seriously, I don't mind the migraines (much), so long as they don't come every three days and last two days each.
No love,
Me
I understand that you like repeat customers. They mean good business. I understand that I'm one of your best clients, too. However, three migraines in ten days is a little much. Especially since you left me alone for so long. I can only conclude that you're making up for lost time. So, with all due respect, could you spread the lovin' out a little? Seriously, I don't mind the migraines (much), so long as they don't come every three days and last two days each.
No love,
Me
Open letter
Sep. 12th, 2007 03:33 pmDear Dwarves Operating a Jackhammer in my Head,
Please stop. Right now.
No love,
Me
Please stop. Right now.
No love,
Me
Catching up with life
May. 10th, 2007 11:40 amThis has been a busy week. I'm embarking on a couple of new projects, which I shall no doubt discuss in here when they become a little less nebulous in my head.
I got felled by a monster migraine Tuesday night at work. Around 7pm my body very decisively said to me: "You're going home NOW." There's no arguing when my body takes that tone with me. I excused myself to my coworkers, called my supervisor to tell him I had to leave, and left. I medicated myself to the gills and slept for 13 hours, and luckily woke up without a trace of the migraine except the usual residual feeling of being a bit fragile for a few hours.
The moral of the story is that I'm not allowed to do overtime anymore. The last time I had a migraine this bad was the last time I did overtime. I attributed it to the fact that I was doing a double shift overnight and thus messing up my sleep patterns, but that's not the case at all. It appears that my body will. not. tolerate. more than 40 hours a week of work. A few hours of overtime here and there is fine, but not the equivalent of an extra day's work.
I had a lovely luncheon yesterday withsilly_imp, whom I have asked to initiate me into the whole being a vegetarian thing. We had a delicious lunch, and a fascinating discussion that ranged from vegetarianism to the kind of professional choices people make and why, all the way to religion (paganism and quakerism, especially). It was really lovely, and I'm looking forward to the next time we can have lunch together again.
Vegetarianism is one of the aforementioned new projects, since I'm getting into it. The way I see it, I am going to be a vegetarian when I cook for myself. I eat relatively little meat anyway, and being a vegetarian at home will be both cheaper for me and allow me to contribute to helping the environment. I don't really know much about where the meat at the supermarket comes from, and I doubt it's very healthy. A lot of it, I suspect, comes from the US, which generally speaking pumps its livestock full of growth hormones and whatnot. Also, locally-produced meat is not necessarily any better, and contributes considerably to the pollution of rivers and groundwater.
I also suspect that being a vegetarian will allow me to be healthier in the long run, and maybe even lose a bit of weight, if combined with exercise and other healthy habits. :)
I had a bit of a chat with my coworker (the one who was so concerned about my eating habits) about vegetarianism last night. She didn't understand why anyone would want to become a vegetarian, since humans are *meant* to be omnivorous (her emphasis, not mine). I explained that while humans *could* be omnivorous, it wasn't necessary, and that many different populations are almost exclusively vegetarian. I went on to outline my reasons for considering vegetarianism (see above), and she appeared quite impressed by my train of thought. It appears the only vegetarians she knows had only one reason, and that was: "OMG it's cruel to kill the baby animals oh noes!" I can understand how that would be annoying and unsatisfying as a response.
As I told her, I have no objection to killing animals, so long as it's done for the right reasons: food, clothing, and the occasional protection of the self. My main problem with supermarket meat, increasingly, is that I have no connection to it: it's packed in plastic and styrofoam and shipped from far away. I citedfearsclave as an example: he goes out, shoots a rabbit, comes home (waves it at his Wuh-Mun) and dumps it in a stew pot. I have no problem with this. It just seems to me that, on the whole, Western civilization has disconnected considerably from their food, its sources and the reasons for which we consume it.
Because my day is never complete without three or four really intense discussions, the same coworker brought up the issue of what it's like being gay. (There was a very amusing incident on Monday night in which one of the supervisors "found out" that I was gay —not that I was hiding it, but he just hadn't known, but essentially now it's public knowledge, as opposed to something I'm just not actively hiding)
So I spent the better part of two hours talking to her and the other guy on my shift about my experiences. They both don't know any gay people their own age, and have only stereotypes or (in the girl's case) older family members to go by. So I fielded the usual questions:
- Did you always know you were gay?
- How did you figure it out?
- Are you completely comfortable with who you are?
- Do your parents know? What do they think of it?
- Is it something you could change if you really wanted to?
- What if you fell in love with a man? Would that change how you identify yourself?
- If you were given the choice, would you *not* be gay?
- Do you want children?
Etc. They were very respectful in their questions, and I think I made some big inroads in dispelling some prejudices they didn't even know they had. The only question that irritated me slightly was: "If you were given a choice, would you *not* be gay?"
That was asked by the male coworker. He didn't mean it badly, but it's an absurd question, and I told him so. I explained it this way to him: You're essentially giving me a choice between having an easy time, and a hard time. The fact that I am sexually attracted to women has little or nothing to do with it. I told him that I was going to spend my. entire. life having *this* conversation with people, that I was going to spend all of my life "coming out" to people who don't know I'm gay, and working to change their perception of what a gay person is or should be.
If I had the choice, I would choose not to have to do that. I am not someone who enjoys the spotlight, and having people grill me with questions about my sexual orientation is not something with which I am especially comfortable. I answer all questions as openly and honestly as I can, because I truly believe it's important for people to understand, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
If being gay and being straight made no difference in terms of how hard my life would be (which is a moot point, because it's not true), then I said that I would flip a coin. If it didn't matter, then, by definition, it wouldn't matter which I chose. Who cares who I choose to sleep with? I am a writer, a musician, a dispatcher, a daughter, a friend, and any number of things, as well as a lesbian. The fact that I sleep with women changes very little about who I am, when seen in that light.
Anyway, I appear to have given them some food for thought, and that can only be a good thing.
I got felled by a monster migraine Tuesday night at work. Around 7pm my body very decisively said to me: "You're going home NOW." There's no arguing when my body takes that tone with me. I excused myself to my coworkers, called my supervisor to tell him I had to leave, and left. I medicated myself to the gills and slept for 13 hours, and luckily woke up without a trace of the migraine except the usual residual feeling of being a bit fragile for a few hours.
The moral of the story is that I'm not allowed to do overtime anymore. The last time I had a migraine this bad was the last time I did overtime. I attributed it to the fact that I was doing a double shift overnight and thus messing up my sleep patterns, but that's not the case at all. It appears that my body will. not. tolerate. more than 40 hours a week of work. A few hours of overtime here and there is fine, but not the equivalent of an extra day's work.
I had a lovely luncheon yesterday with
silly_imp, whom I have asked to initiate me into the whole being a vegetarian thing. We had a delicious lunch, and a fascinating discussion that ranged from vegetarianism to the kind of professional choices people make and why, all the way to religion (paganism and quakerism, especially). It was really lovely, and I'm looking forward to the next time we can have lunch together again.Vegetarianism is one of the aforementioned new projects, since I'm getting into it. The way I see it, I am going to be a vegetarian when I cook for myself. I eat relatively little meat anyway, and being a vegetarian at home will be both cheaper for me and allow me to contribute to helping the environment. I don't really know much about where the meat at the supermarket comes from, and I doubt it's very healthy. A lot of it, I suspect, comes from the US, which generally speaking pumps its livestock full of growth hormones and whatnot. Also, locally-produced meat is not necessarily any better, and contributes considerably to the pollution of rivers and groundwater.
I also suspect that being a vegetarian will allow me to be healthier in the long run, and maybe even lose a bit of weight, if combined with exercise and other healthy habits. :)
I had a bit of a chat with my coworker (the one who was so concerned about my eating habits) about vegetarianism last night. She didn't understand why anyone would want to become a vegetarian, since humans are *meant* to be omnivorous (her emphasis, not mine). I explained that while humans *could* be omnivorous, it wasn't necessary, and that many different populations are almost exclusively vegetarian. I went on to outline my reasons for considering vegetarianism (see above), and she appeared quite impressed by my train of thought. It appears the only vegetarians she knows had only one reason, and that was: "OMG it's cruel to kill the baby animals oh noes!" I can understand how that would be annoying and unsatisfying as a response.
As I told her, I have no objection to killing animals, so long as it's done for the right reasons: food, clothing, and the occasional protection of the self. My main problem with supermarket meat, increasingly, is that I have no connection to it: it's packed in plastic and styrofoam and shipped from far away. I cited
fearsclave as an example: he goes out, shoots a rabbit, comes home (waves it at his Wuh-Mun) and dumps it in a stew pot. I have no problem with this. It just seems to me that, on the whole, Western civilization has disconnected considerably from their food, its sources and the reasons for which we consume it.Because my day is never complete without three or four really intense discussions, the same coworker brought up the issue of what it's like being gay. (There was a very amusing incident on Monday night in which one of the supervisors "found out" that I was gay —not that I was hiding it, but he just hadn't known, but essentially now it's public knowledge, as opposed to something I'm just not actively hiding)
So I spent the better part of two hours talking to her and the other guy on my shift about my experiences. They both don't know any gay people their own age, and have only stereotypes or (in the girl's case) older family members to go by. So I fielded the usual questions:
- Did you always know you were gay?
- How did you figure it out?
- Are you completely comfortable with who you are?
- Do your parents know? What do they think of it?
- Is it something you could change if you really wanted to?
- What if you fell in love with a man? Would that change how you identify yourself?
- If you were given the choice, would you *not* be gay?
- Do you want children?
Etc. They were very respectful in their questions, and I think I made some big inroads in dispelling some prejudices they didn't even know they had. The only question that irritated me slightly was: "If you were given a choice, would you *not* be gay?"
That was asked by the male coworker. He didn't mean it badly, but it's an absurd question, and I told him so. I explained it this way to him: You're essentially giving me a choice between having an easy time, and a hard time. The fact that I am sexually attracted to women has little or nothing to do with it. I told him that I was going to spend my. entire. life having *this* conversation with people, that I was going to spend all of my life "coming out" to people who don't know I'm gay, and working to change their perception of what a gay person is or should be.
If I had the choice, I would choose not to have to do that. I am not someone who enjoys the spotlight, and having people grill me with questions about my sexual orientation is not something with which I am especially comfortable. I answer all questions as openly and honestly as I can, because I truly believe it's important for people to understand, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
If being gay and being straight made no difference in terms of how hard my life would be (which is a moot point, because it's not true), then I said that I would flip a coin. If it didn't matter, then, by definition, it wouldn't matter which I chose. Who cares who I choose to sleep with? I am a writer, a musician, a dispatcher, a daughter, a friend, and any number of things, as well as a lesbian. The fact that I sleep with women changes very little about who I am, when seen in that light.
Anyway, I appear to have given them some food for thought, and that can only be a good thing.
Very quick update
Jan. 15th, 2007 10:08 pm1- Capricornucopia was awesome. Proper update when I have connectivity at home.
2- My friends rock.
3- Made public a decision I made a few weeks ago. It went very well. So nice to have understanding and mature friends. :)
4- Sunday was nice, except for a horrid nightmare in which my mother threw me out of the house for some reason. Unsettled me for the whole day. It did strike me that, in my dream, I owned a vast quantity of brightly-coloured socks.
5- Settled a few more financial things today. More will be settled in the weeks/months to come. This is doing wonders for my peace of mind.
6- My friends rock.
7- Got a vermicomposter today, but no worms yet. They are sold separately, like batteries. They are also expensive little buggers. Details as events warrant.
8- I have a migraine. Have taken migraine candy, which is making the whole thing bearable. I am looking forward to my bed.
9- SNOW!!!!! Must dig car out of snowbank now, but it's worth it! EEEEEEE!!!!
10- My friends rock.
That is all. :)
2- My friends rock.
3- Made public a decision I made a few weeks ago. It went very well. So nice to have understanding and mature friends. :)
4- Sunday was nice, except for a horrid nightmare in which my mother threw me out of the house for some reason. Unsettled me for the whole day. It did strike me that, in my dream, I owned a vast quantity of brightly-coloured socks.
5- Settled a few more financial things today. More will be settled in the weeks/months to come. This is doing wonders for my peace of mind.
6- My friends rock.
7- Got a vermicomposter today, but no worms yet. They are sold separately, like batteries. They are also expensive little buggers. Details as events warrant.
8- I have a migraine. Have taken migraine candy, which is making the whole thing bearable. I am looking forward to my bed.
9- SNOW!!!!! Must dig car out of snowbank now, but it's worth it! EEEEEEE!!!!
10- My friends rock.
That is all. :)
Well, there went my day...
Nov. 17th, 2006 05:42 pmDear Migraine Fairy,
Don't you ever take a day off? Seriously, have you considered retirement? I hear there are plenty of great resorts out there that you could visit. Bring a book, put your feet up. I know from personal experience how hard you've been working lately. Maybe it's time you took advantage of that great retirement package I'm sure you must have.
Please, please take my advice.
Love,
Me
Gah. Stupid migraine. It didn't even have the grace to warn me, the way the others do. I was going along, minding my own business, until suddenly, there was this migraine: "Hi Phnee! I'm going to make you feel as though someone just stabbed you in the eye with a knitting needle! Isn't this fun?"
So I went to bed around 1:30. It took about forty minutes for me to get to sleep. Woke up about fifteen minutes ago, and thought I had dodged a bullet. See, when I wake up with a jolt (in this case because I remembered I have somewhere to be tonight), the pain usually comes back and hits me like a sledgehammer. This time, it didn't, and I foolishly thought I was scott-free.
Not the case. I can feel the damn migraine lurking on the edges. So, off to take more pills (yay), and hope that I'll be functional enough to get out of the house in about an hour and a half.
I don't have a good migraine icon. I should fix that.
Don't you ever take a day off? Seriously, have you considered retirement? I hear there are plenty of great resorts out there that you could visit. Bring a book, put your feet up. I know from personal experience how hard you've been working lately. Maybe it's time you took advantage of that great retirement package I'm sure you must have.
Please, please take my advice.
Love,
Me
Gah. Stupid migraine. It didn't even have the grace to warn me, the way the others do. I was going along, minding my own business, until suddenly, there was this migraine: "Hi Phnee! I'm going to make you feel as though someone just stabbed you in the eye with a knitting needle! Isn't this fun?"
So I went to bed around 1:30. It took about forty minutes for me to get to sleep. Woke up about fifteen minutes ago, and thought I had dodged a bullet. See, when I wake up with a jolt (in this case because I remembered I have somewhere to be tonight), the pain usually comes back and hits me like a sledgehammer. This time, it didn't, and I foolishly thought I was scott-free.
Not the case. I can feel the damn migraine lurking on the edges. So, off to take more pills (yay), and hope that I'll be functional enough to get out of the house in about an hour and a half.
I don't have a good migraine icon. I should fix that.
Just to add to the excitement...
Oct. 13th, 2006 11:29 amOh, looky. A migraine. Isn't that. just. ducky.
I have clients to call now. That should totally help my head to stop hurting.
I have clients to call now. That should totally help my head to stop hurting.
I can't think of a suitable onomatopeia
Aug. 1st, 2006 10:40 pmWell, the migraine has subsided somewhat, thanks to lots of migraine candy and a tepid bath. Nothing got accomplished today. *sigh*
Pan-Pan, I have discovered, is terrified of thunderstorms. He hides under one of the chairs in the living room when the thunder crashes. Poor bunny. He came out and cuddled with me when I called to him, though. I don't know why I was surprised: Pan-Pan is the world's biggest chicken.
I am thus far all caught up on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
august_writing. That's all I can say for today.
Pan-Pan, I have discovered, is terrified of thunderstorms. He hides under one of the chairs in the living room when the thunder crashes. Poor bunny. He came out and cuddled with me when I called to him, though. I don't know why I was surprised: Pan-Pan is the world's biggest chicken.
I am thus far all caught up on
august_writing. That's all I can say for today.This is just Phnee whining. Nothing to see here, move along.
I'm on vacation! I'm not supposed to get a migraine! Waaaah!
Thus far today the only position that has not resulted in my feeling completely awful has been horizontal. This sucks. I was supposed to get all my cleaning done today, and I can't even sit up. Bleah.
I'm going to go take another nap. Maybe that'll do it.
On the plus side, I'm at least able to read the stuff fromaugust_writing in short bursts. With any luck I'll be able to post mine by tonight. It's Tuesday, so that means Beyond the Pale. I'm contemplating posting Conflation once a week during the challenge as well.
I'm on vacation! I'm not supposed to get a migraine! Waaaah!
Thus far today the only position that has not resulted in my feeling completely awful has been horizontal. This sucks. I was supposed to get all my cleaning done today, and I can't even sit up. Bleah.
I'm going to go take another nap. Maybe that'll do it.
On the plus side, I'm at least able to read the stuff from
august_writing in short bursts. With any luck I'll be able to post mine by tonight. It's Tuesday, so that means Beyond the Pale. I'm contemplating posting Conflation once a week during the challenge as well.Yesterday was pretty gruesome at work. Here's a tip: if you have more than two people in the same office who think they're the centre of the universe, things will NOT run smoothly. The less said about my day at the office, the better. I've already ranted to some very nice and forbearing people about it, so I'll leave it at that.
Went dancing after being away from my club for about a week. Well, I was there on Tuesday, but I skipped last Friday. Had fun. I always do. Very few people, as there was an event somewhere else in town keeping people busy. Did not see the Mahones, as their appearance date is supposedly in August now.
Got to the rehearsal space at 10am (that's early for me on a Saturday) and nailed the intro to "Enter Sandman."karine and owldaughter showed up at 11am, and we practiced both the intro to "Enter Sandman" (I showed off my l33t n3w sk1llz) and then beat "J'Veux Pas Vieillir" into bloody submission. Booyah!
I then went through a whole lot of Excedrin Migraine to get rid of the foot-long white-hot needle someone decided to stab into my right eye. I really think it's the smell of hopps that's doing it. I can't think of anything else that might be provoking this.
I decided to reward myself for being awesome by going to see "Pirates of the Caribbean 2," which was a lot of fun, but not nearly as good as the first one. Also, ( Mild spoiler ) Anyway, I had fun.
Spent some time at Indigo ogling the books, and managed not to get a parking ticket while I was at the movies. This is the problem with parking downtown and going to see a movie. Movies last over two hours, unless they're made by Pixar. Parking meters have a time limit of two hours. So if I'm going to see a movie, my meter will run out about half an hour to an hour before the end of the movie. Meh. However, the parking gods were merciful this time around and I was spared. I am pleased.
The staff at Indigo were completely useless. I asked a likely-looking boy for recommendations for a new mystery writer. Unfortunately, he was going on break and foisted me off onto his complete nitwit of a co-worker. She wandered vaguely around the mystery section and rattled off names at random to me. Every time I pressed her for more details, she would confess to not having read anything by the author she'd just recommended. She eventually sheepishly admitted to not reading mysteries at all, but was recommending stuff based on what she'd heard from other people.
Now, okay. I can understand not being a fan of mystery novels. However, if that's the case, why didn't she say so to begin with? If I'd known, I wouldn't have wasted my time with her. Sheesh. This girl was also none too bright anyway.
Spent the evening with the Parental Units. It was surreal: my father turned on the television (which happens once in a blue moon with him anyway) and discovered "Godzilla vs Mothra: the battle for Earth" playing. He decided to watch. Soon enough, we were all mesmerized by the mind-blowing badness of it all including the singing Japanese pixie twins and the piss-poor special effects of doom. I can't even begin to reproduce my parents' commentary. Even if I could, you probably wouldn't believe me. My mother thought that Mothra was "such a lover! Look, he's just like a teddy bear!" and yet was rooting for Godzilla to win, because he had "such a nice smile."
My father liked the singing Japanese pixie twins (who were, disturbingly enough, kept in a cage by one of the heroes). We were all somewhat perplexed by Mothra at the beginning, but after he spun a giant artificial cocoon the movie... umm, I hesitate to say that it began to make more sense, but at least the creature looked like a moth after that.
It was bizarre, but fun.
The rest of the Satursay-night lineup was pure crap. Why oh why is television so crappy lately?
Okay, bed now.
Went dancing after being away from my club for about a week. Well, I was there on Tuesday, but I skipped last Friday. Had fun. I always do. Very few people, as there was an event somewhere else in town keeping people busy. Did not see the Mahones, as their appearance date is supposedly in August now.
Got to the rehearsal space at 10am (that's early for me on a Saturday) and nailed the intro to "Enter Sandman."
karine and owldaughter showed up at 11am, and we practiced both the intro to "Enter Sandman" (I showed off my l33t n3w sk1llz) and then beat "J'Veux Pas Vieillir" into bloody submission. Booyah!I then went through a whole lot of Excedrin Migraine to get rid of the foot-long white-hot needle someone decided to stab into my right eye. I really think it's the smell of hopps that's doing it. I can't think of anything else that might be provoking this.
I decided to reward myself for being awesome by going to see "Pirates of the Caribbean 2," which was a lot of fun, but not nearly as good as the first one. Also, ( Mild spoiler ) Anyway, I had fun.
Spent some time at Indigo ogling the books, and managed not to get a parking ticket while I was at the movies. This is the problem with parking downtown and going to see a movie. Movies last over two hours, unless they're made by Pixar. Parking meters have a time limit of two hours. So if I'm going to see a movie, my meter will run out about half an hour to an hour before the end of the movie. Meh. However, the parking gods were merciful this time around and I was spared. I am pleased.
The staff at Indigo were completely useless. I asked a likely-looking boy for recommendations for a new mystery writer. Unfortunately, he was going on break and foisted me off onto his complete nitwit of a co-worker. She wandered vaguely around the mystery section and rattled off names at random to me. Every time I pressed her for more details, she would confess to not having read anything by the author she'd just recommended. She eventually sheepishly admitted to not reading mysteries at all, but was recommending stuff based on what she'd heard from other people.
Now, okay. I can understand not being a fan of mystery novels. However, if that's the case, why didn't she say so to begin with? If I'd known, I wouldn't have wasted my time with her. Sheesh. This girl was also none too bright anyway.
Spent the evening with the Parental Units. It was surreal: my father turned on the television (which happens once in a blue moon with him anyway) and discovered "Godzilla vs Mothra: the battle for Earth" playing. He decided to watch. Soon enough, we were all mesmerized by the mind-blowing badness of it all including the singing Japanese pixie twins and the piss-poor special effects of doom. I can't even begin to reproduce my parents' commentary. Even if I could, you probably wouldn't believe me. My mother thought that Mothra was "such a lover! Look, he's just like a teddy bear!" and yet was rooting for Godzilla to win, because he had "such a nice smile."
My father liked the singing Japanese pixie twins (who were, disturbingly enough, kept in a cage by one of the heroes). We were all somewhat perplexed by Mothra at the beginning, but after he spun a giant artificial cocoon the movie... umm, I hesitate to say that it began to make more sense, but at least the creature looked like a moth after that.
It was bizarre, but fun.
The rest of the Satursay-night lineup was pure crap. Why oh why is television so crappy lately?
Okay, bed now.
It's officially summer. Yes, I know, the solstice isn't for another few days, but it's sweltering outside. It hasn't been hot for more than two days and I already look like I've gone three rounds with a heavyweight champion. I didn't think the circles under people's eyes could even turn that colour. I seem to forget every year just how poorly I fare in the heat and humidity of a Montreal summer.
Everyone say it all together now: It's not the heat that's bad, it's the humidity.
Okay, now that the obligatory cliché is over, can I repeat how much I dislike the heat? I wilt like a tulip under a magnifying glass in the summer. Bleah. Summer is a very very pretty season, but I'm no good to anyone until the end of September.
So I was duly felled by the heat this weekend. The usual migraine on Saturday (it might be the recently-replaced light bulb in the rehearsal space doing it, or it might just be the quality of the air or something) lingered until late on Sunday, thus effectively ruining eighty percent of my plans for the weekend. Migraines are weird beasts. As long as I ignore them (only acknowledging them enough to take Excedrin), they seem to stay sort of at bay, until I stop moving around/interacting with people/doing stuff. Then they drop like the proverbial anvil (are anvils proverbial, or just the result of Loony Toons?) and pretty much incapacitate me until they condescend to go away. I have yet to understand this phenomenon, but let's just say it's annoying in the extreme.
Needless to say, there was no baking. Not at 32 degrees Celsius, thank you very much. Besides, baking involves bending over and straightening repeatedly, with attendant blood rushing to and from the head. Badness, in short. There are limits to which I will push my masochism. Adding migraines to heat is not one of them.
I did get a little bit of cleaning done. Not nearly as much as I wanted to, but at least I got rid of a couple of garbage bags that were sitting on my back balcony, and tidied a little bit more. Since the weather has decided not to cooperate with me, I'm going to take the FlyLady approach to the rest of my cleaning, which is the fifteen-minutes-a-day technique. With any luck, that will mean actual progress by the end of the week. An hour's worth of cleaning by the time Friday rolls around might actually provide visible results and not make me die of heat prostration in the interim.
The Parental Units are in good form. The Maternal Unit is in a revoltingly good mood, the way she always is after a trip to France. The Paternal Unit gave me a long and not-entirely-accurate lecture on financial responsibility, and once that was done he agreed that I was taking the right course in my current financial decisions. It occurred to me that he doesn't actually understand that much about how personal finances work (though global economics are no problem whatsoever), or at least how they work for an individual with a low income and no job security. Be that as it may, I am going to the bank over my lunch break (joy) to commence proceedings for solving my current financial debacle.
At my father's suggestion, I'm going to start by switching my checking account over to the bank I actually work for (even if, technically speaking, I don't actually work for them). I was planning on doing this eventually, since the CIBC seems to take particular delight in screwing me every chance they get *and* are closing their branches left, right and centre. In fact, there is no CIBC branch anywhere near where I live, which is highly inconvenient. I had been holding off until I got a permanent position at the National Bank, but at this point it seems more expedient to just switch over now.
I'm then going to apply at the National Bank for a loan. Hopefully they won't scoff at my credit rating, but that seems doubtful. Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and my father won't have to co-sign with me. However, he's told me that not only is he willing to co-sign, but that if things are truly too tight for July and August while I still have the car (aka the HDFA), then he'll even help me out with paying the loan for those two months. I don't think it'll be necessary, if my calculations are correct, but then my math has always been notoriously unreliable, so it's nice to know I have a contingency plan.
The more I hear about other people's parents, the happier I am that my own Parental Units are so freaking awesome. They've always been supportive of anything I wanted to do, and have always backed me up if I got in too deep over my head. Of course, some people might argue that I haven't learned any lessons because they coddled me too much, but I'm not so sure. I mean, I've never made the same mistake twice (at least, not in important matters), so they must be doing something right. Sure, they're responsible for all my neuroses, but they're also responsible for all my good qualities as well. So, go them. :)
I bitch about my parents far too much, considering how great they are, especially compared to other parents.
Everyone say it all together now: It's not the heat that's bad, it's the humidity.
Okay, now that the obligatory cliché is over, can I repeat how much I dislike the heat? I wilt like a tulip under a magnifying glass in the summer. Bleah. Summer is a very very pretty season, but I'm no good to anyone until the end of September.
So I was duly felled by the heat this weekend. The usual migraine on Saturday (it might be the recently-replaced light bulb in the rehearsal space doing it, or it might just be the quality of the air or something) lingered until late on Sunday, thus effectively ruining eighty percent of my plans for the weekend. Migraines are weird beasts. As long as I ignore them (only acknowledging them enough to take Excedrin), they seem to stay sort of at bay, until I stop moving around/interacting with people/doing stuff. Then they drop like the proverbial anvil (are anvils proverbial, or just the result of Loony Toons?) and pretty much incapacitate me until they condescend to go away. I have yet to understand this phenomenon, but let's just say it's annoying in the extreme.
Needless to say, there was no baking. Not at 32 degrees Celsius, thank you very much. Besides, baking involves bending over and straightening repeatedly, with attendant blood rushing to and from the head. Badness, in short. There are limits to which I will push my masochism. Adding migraines to heat is not one of them.
I did get a little bit of cleaning done. Not nearly as much as I wanted to, but at least I got rid of a couple of garbage bags that were sitting on my back balcony, and tidied a little bit more. Since the weather has decided not to cooperate with me, I'm going to take the FlyLady approach to the rest of my cleaning, which is the fifteen-minutes-a-day technique. With any luck, that will mean actual progress by the end of the week. An hour's worth of cleaning by the time Friday rolls around might actually provide visible results and not make me die of heat prostration in the interim.
The Parental Units are in good form. The Maternal Unit is in a revoltingly good mood, the way she always is after a trip to France. The Paternal Unit gave me a long and not-entirely-accurate lecture on financial responsibility, and once that was done he agreed that I was taking the right course in my current financial decisions. It occurred to me that he doesn't actually understand that much about how personal finances work (though global economics are no problem whatsoever), or at least how they work for an individual with a low income and no job security. Be that as it may, I am going to the bank over my lunch break (joy) to commence proceedings for solving my current financial debacle.
At my father's suggestion, I'm going to start by switching my checking account over to the bank I actually work for (even if, technically speaking, I don't actually work for them). I was planning on doing this eventually, since the CIBC seems to take particular delight in screwing me every chance they get *and* are closing their branches left, right and centre. In fact, there is no CIBC branch anywhere near where I live, which is highly inconvenient. I had been holding off until I got a permanent position at the National Bank, but at this point it seems more expedient to just switch over now.
I'm then going to apply at the National Bank for a loan. Hopefully they won't scoff at my credit rating, but that seems doubtful. Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and my father won't have to co-sign with me. However, he's told me that not only is he willing to co-sign, but that if things are truly too tight for July and August while I still have the car (aka the HDFA), then he'll even help me out with paying the loan for those two months. I don't think it'll be necessary, if my calculations are correct, but then my math has always been notoriously unreliable, so it's nice to know I have a contingency plan.
The more I hear about other people's parents, the happier I am that my own Parental Units are so freaking awesome. They've always been supportive of anything I wanted to do, and have always backed me up if I got in too deep over my head. Of course, some people might argue that I haven't learned any lessons because they coddled me too much, but I'm not so sure. I mean, I've never made the same mistake twice (at least, not in important matters), so they must be doing something right. Sure, they're responsible for all my neuroses, but they're also responsible for all my good qualities as well. So, go them. :)
I bitch about my parents far too much, considering how great they are, especially compared to other parents.
Definitely the rehearsal space
Jun. 10th, 2006 01:57 pmOh, look: it's Saturday afternoon and I have a migraine.
It's just the mild beginning of a migraine, so I'm going to kill it with Excedrin and a nap. However, this confirms my theory that something at the rehearsal space is triggering my migraines. I suspect it's either the quality of the air (not very good) or the pervasive smell of hopps from the brewery next door that's doing it. I've always been hypersensitive to smells, especially chemical ones, and usually any kind of cheap perfume will set me off, so it's not really a surprise after all.
Bleh.
Well, forewarned is forearmed, right? Next week I'll see what I can do to take preventive measures beforehand.
Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight. Will see how things work out.
It's just the mild beginning of a migraine, so I'm going to kill it with Excedrin and a nap. However, this confirms my theory that something at the rehearsal space is triggering my migraines. I suspect it's either the quality of the air (not very good) or the pervasive smell of hopps from the brewery next door that's doing it. I've always been hypersensitive to smells, especially chemical ones, and usually any kind of cheap perfume will set me off, so it's not really a surprise after all.
Bleh.
Well, forewarned is forearmed, right? Next week I'll see what I can do to take preventive measures beforehand.
Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight. Will see how things work out.
Chili on the stove, and GIP!
Jun. 3rd, 2006 06:43 pmSo the chili is simmering. It's a bastardized version of all the recipes my darling flist provided me with the other day. I think I may have burnt the bottom a bit, but I lowered the heat with impressive alacrity, and am now waiting for it to thicken.
It smells really, really good. :)
So today was productive in spite of the migraine I started to develop about halfway through band practice. I'm beginning to wonder if it isn't something about the fumes from the Molson brewery next door, because that's not the first time I've developed migraines at the rehearsal space.
I have since taken Excedrin, and the migraine is receding. Go me!
I have a new webcomic to fangirl about: Yet Another Fantasy Gamer Comic by my palshenlo, featuring Bob the Beholder. It's hilarious. Makes me laugh out loud every time. Go check it out, it's worth it.
:::ETA:::
Check out the new icon! It's from YAFGC. Go read the comic now!
:::end ETA:::
I am in a good mood, but still inexplicably tired. Either I'm getting anemic again (which would suck), or else the stress of the past two weeks has finally caught up with me and is insisting I take care of it by sleeping more. I will try to eat more spinach and other iron-rich stuff and get a bit more sleep, and see if that helps. The fact that I'm overtired is probably not helping keep the migraines at bay, either.
It smells really, really good. :)
So today was productive in spite of the migraine I started to develop about halfway through band practice. I'm beginning to wonder if it isn't something about the fumes from the Molson brewery next door, because that's not the first time I've developed migraines at the rehearsal space.
I have since taken Excedrin, and the migraine is receding. Go me!
I have a new webcomic to fangirl about: Yet Another Fantasy Gamer Comic by my pal
shenlo, featuring Bob the Beholder. It's hilarious. Makes me laugh out loud every time. Go check it out, it's worth it.:::ETA:::
Check out the new icon! It's from YAFGC. Go read the comic now!
:::end ETA:::
I am in a good mood, but still inexplicably tired. Either I'm getting anemic again (which would suck), or else the stress of the past two weeks has finally caught up with me and is insisting I take care of it by sleeping more. I will try to eat more spinach and other iron-rich stuff and get a bit more sleep, and see if that helps. The fact that I'm overtired is probably not helping keep the migraines at bay, either.
Just a little something special
May. 27th, 2006 10:49 pmOkay, so I'm awake. Sue me, my head hurts.
I just found out that A. A. Milne's wife's first name was Daphne. For some reason, that just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I am absurdly pleased.
So here's a random question for the flist: which Winnie-the-Pooh character are you most like and why? (This question inspired byborrowedwings' potential new employer)
I just found out that A. A. Milne's wife's first name was Daphne. For some reason, that just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I am absurdly pleased.
So here's a random question for the flist: which Winnie-the-Pooh character are you most like and why? (This question inspired by
borrowedwings' potential new employer)
Well, the migraine I've had on and off since I first got that phone call from Bell finally caught up with me.
Had a "nap" at 4pm, and just woke up now. Am going back to bed.
On a random note, I've been having problems with Firefox ever since switching over from IE, and I was hoping someone on my flist could enlighten me. When I get my Yahoo! mail, it doesn't let me answer emails. I can open a new message window, but when I hit "send," nothing happens. Any ideas on how I can fix that?
Any help at all would be appreciated, especially from fellow Mac-users. Thanks!
Had a "nap" at 4pm, and just woke up now. Am going back to bed.
On a random note, I've been having problems with Firefox ever since switching over from IE, and I was hoping someone on my flist could enlighten me. When I get my Yahoo! mail, it doesn't let me answer emails. I can open a new message window, but when I hit "send," nothing happens. Any ideas on how I can fix that?
Any help at all would be appreciated, especially from fellow Mac-users. Thanks!
Dammit, that's twice in a row
Feb. 16th, 2006 07:03 pmI really, really wanted to go do my dance class tonight. Last week I was felled by the Massive Wall of Tired™, and tonight I have a migraine.
I can't afford to exhaust myself this week. After 40 hours of work, 4 hours of volunteering, and 6 or so hours of dancing, I'm also looking at 16 or so hours of class on Saturday and Sunday. So, I'm going to go to bed early tonight. That means that, once again, I won't be learning the intermediate dance.
*sigh*
In better news, I am accumulating a backlog for Beyond the Pale in anticipation of being super damned busy over the weekend. I've already got all my installments written up until Sunday, and if I can write one or two more tomorrow, that'll be even better. I'm going to be really busy next weekend as well, so if I can keep my buffer of one or two installments intact, then I'll be good to go.
If I've learned anything from NaNoWriMo and Jan's August Writing Challenge and my own latest attempt to catch up with the serial, it's that writing damned well is a muscle. In September of 2004, when I started writing Beyond the Pale, 1,500 words was a struggle. Not in terms of finding the words to say what I wanted, but just the sheer amount of time and effort it took to get the words out. After about four months, I fell behind and didn't bother catching up.
Then I decided to do the writing challenge in August. I had thirty-one days, and I was thirty-one weeks behind. I had already been doing a little bit more writing, so I figured it might work. It almost did. It was still a struggle to write, but not as much, and I wrote other things at the same time. I wrote fourteen installments. That was fifteen fewer installments than I had planned, but fourteen more installments than I had started out with.
When November rolled around, suddenly writing wasn't like beating my head against a brick wall anymore. I could sit down and churn out my 1, 667 words a day with very little difficulty. It took me about an hour and a half to write that much. I surprised myself by writing more than that on many days. The writing wasn't always good, but I forced myself to keep going anyway.
Now, it takes me a little over an hour to write an installment of Beyond the Pale. I treat it exactly like NaNoWriMo: I don't edit, I don't delete unless absolutely necessary. I write it and post it. It's raw, unfinished art, and that's the way I want it for now.
I am very grateful to be living my life the way I am right now. I have many friends who love to write, who are fantastic at it, but who can't because other stuff in their lives has to take priority these days. I am grateful that, while my cats may be pissed off that Mummy isn't giving them her undivided attention all the time, I don't have to watch them 24/7. I am glad that my job right now doesn't take up all my energy so that I can catch up on my writing. I am very, very grateful for what I have right now, even though it's all going to change soon enough.
I stopped writing when I was about twenty-one, and heading for my first breakdown. Before that, I wrote all the time. I wrote hundreds of pages, spent all my time writing, to the point where my mother and I used to have epic battles about whether I was going to leave the damned computer and come have dinner, now!
One day, I'm going to find that Writing Place that Ceri described again. I know that place. I used to spend a great deal of time there, but not anymore. I feel as though I've been cut off from there for a very long time.
My writing is decent. I know it is. Oftentimes it's more than decent. I just miss being in that blissed-out state in which the story practically writes itself, rather than having to think about every word and every plot twist.
t! wrote today about climbing out of the pit. About how, when you have limited amounts of time to devote to your projects and routine maintenance of your life, you end up falling behind at some point, and the catch-up game is all about clawing your way out of the giant hole in the ground.
Actually, go read it here and then come back. Really, if you haven't been readingthe_exclamation up until now, well, now's a good time to start. Go! Shoo! Come back when you've read it.
Right now I'm climbing out of one pit. I've still got a number of others that need climbing, but I figure one pit at a time. When February is over, I'll only be twelve installments behind. I'm tempted to keep going, but we'll see how much energy I have left by then.
In other words, I am cautiously optimistic right now.
I can't afford to exhaust myself this week. After 40 hours of work, 4 hours of volunteering, and 6 or so hours of dancing, I'm also looking at 16 or so hours of class on Saturday and Sunday. So, I'm going to go to bed early tonight. That means that, once again, I won't be learning the intermediate dance.
*sigh*
In better news, I am accumulating a backlog for Beyond the Pale in anticipation of being super damned busy over the weekend. I've already got all my installments written up until Sunday, and if I can write one or two more tomorrow, that'll be even better. I'm going to be really busy next weekend as well, so if I can keep my buffer of one or two installments intact, then I'll be good to go.
If I've learned anything from NaNoWriMo and Jan's August Writing Challenge and my own latest attempt to catch up with the serial, it's that writing damned well is a muscle. In September of 2004, when I started writing Beyond the Pale, 1,500 words was a struggle. Not in terms of finding the words to say what I wanted, but just the sheer amount of time and effort it took to get the words out. After about four months, I fell behind and didn't bother catching up.
Then I decided to do the writing challenge in August. I had thirty-one days, and I was thirty-one weeks behind. I had already been doing a little bit more writing, so I figured it might work. It almost did. It was still a struggle to write, but not as much, and I wrote other things at the same time. I wrote fourteen installments. That was fifteen fewer installments than I had planned, but fourteen more installments than I had started out with.
When November rolled around, suddenly writing wasn't like beating my head against a brick wall anymore. I could sit down and churn out my 1, 667 words a day with very little difficulty. It took me about an hour and a half to write that much. I surprised myself by writing more than that on many days. The writing wasn't always good, but I forced myself to keep going anyway.
Now, it takes me a little over an hour to write an installment of Beyond the Pale. I treat it exactly like NaNoWriMo: I don't edit, I don't delete unless absolutely necessary. I write it and post it. It's raw, unfinished art, and that's the way I want it for now.
I am very grateful to be living my life the way I am right now. I have many friends who love to write, who are fantastic at it, but who can't because other stuff in their lives has to take priority these days. I am grateful that, while my cats may be pissed off that Mummy isn't giving them her undivided attention all the time, I don't have to watch them 24/7. I am glad that my job right now doesn't take up all my energy so that I can catch up on my writing. I am very, very grateful for what I have right now, even though it's all going to change soon enough.
I stopped writing when I was about twenty-one, and heading for my first breakdown. Before that, I wrote all the time. I wrote hundreds of pages, spent all my time writing, to the point where my mother and I used to have epic battles about whether I was going to leave the damned computer and come have dinner, now!
One day, I'm going to find that Writing Place that Ceri described again. I know that place. I used to spend a great deal of time there, but not anymore. I feel as though I've been cut off from there for a very long time.
My writing is decent. I know it is. Oftentimes it's more than decent. I just miss being in that blissed-out state in which the story practically writes itself, rather than having to think about every word and every plot twist.
t! wrote today about climbing out of the pit. About how, when you have limited amounts of time to devote to your projects and routine maintenance of your life, you end up falling behind at some point, and the catch-up game is all about clawing your way out of the giant hole in the ground.
Actually, go read it here and then come back. Really, if you haven't been reading
the_exclamation up until now, well, now's a good time to start. Go! Shoo! Come back when you've read it.Right now I'm climbing out of one pit. I've still got a number of others that need climbing, but I figure one pit at a time. When February is over, I'll only be twelve installments behind. I'm tempted to keep going, but we'll see how much energy I have left by then.
In other words, I am cautiously optimistic right now.
Just because I can...
Dec. 1st, 2005 02:53 pmI decided, after nearly two years of not having any, to put back some mood icons. They're not ideal, but they're the ones I like best.
Let it not be said that I am incapable of procrastination.
Now all I have to do is come up with some text for my userinfo page that I don't hate. Hey, anyone want to write a bio for me?
In other news, there's a special place in hell reserved for the person who invented fluorescent lighting. A very special place where they will have white-hot needles poked into their eyes at irregular intervals while someone else hits them repeatedly on the head with a hammer. For eternity. Yes.
Let it not be said that I am incapable of procrastination.
Now all I have to do is come up with some text for my userinfo page that I don't hate. Hey, anyone want to write a bio for me?
In other news, there's a special place in hell reserved for the person who invented fluorescent lighting. A very special place where they will have white-hot needles poked into their eyes at irregular intervals while someone else hits them repeatedly on the head with a hammer. For eternity. Yes.
I don't recall authorizing this...
Dec. 1st, 2005 11:44 amWho the hell made it December suddenly? I could swear it was January last week.
I could really use some sleep. A lot of sleep, actually. The only reason I don't feel tired is because my head still feels like someone is driving railroad spikes through my eyes. This migraine has moved right beyond the "outstayed its welcome" stage and right into "messy houseguest who's been here for months and drinks all your booze and just won't LEAVE" stage. So I don't feel tired, but I'm groggy and in pain and generally really not in a good head space.
Anyway. I called Apple Customer Service, and they won't extend their warranty for me. Colour me shocked. So, the next step is to talk with the insurance people about whether they'll pay for the repair. Stay tuned for the next thrilling instalment.
Called the *other* insurance people today about the car. They apparently don't pay for repairs to the other person involved, so it's up to me to file a claim for my car, on which I'll have to pay the deductible. So I'm going to get an estimate on what it would cost to fix, and then probably not get it fixed. It's not like my car isn't a mass of smal dents already anyway.
The point is that the other woman doesn't want her premiums to go up, so she's offered to let me pay for the whole shebang and not make a claim either way. That would be the easy way out, for sure, except that I don't have $800 to spend on her car. I didn't have $800 to spend on my computer, I don't have it to spend on my own car, and I sure as hell don't have it to spend on anyone else's car. However, the accident *was* my fault, so maybe I'll ask my parents for a Christmas present (for the next three Christmases or so ^^;) that would get my ass out of the frying pan.
*sigh*
You think you have insurance to help you out in these situations, but really all it does is fuck you over more. People should learn from Terry Pratchett.
So, how's your day going?
I could really use some sleep. A lot of sleep, actually. The only reason I don't feel tired is because my head still feels like someone is driving railroad spikes through my eyes. This migraine has moved right beyond the "outstayed its welcome" stage and right into "messy houseguest who's been here for months and drinks all your booze and just won't LEAVE" stage. So I don't feel tired, but I'm groggy and in pain and generally really not in a good head space.
Anyway. I called Apple Customer Service, and they won't extend their warranty for me. Colour me shocked. So, the next step is to talk with the insurance people about whether they'll pay for the repair. Stay tuned for the next thrilling instalment.
Called the *other* insurance people today about the car. They apparently don't pay for repairs to the other person involved, so it's up to me to file a claim for my car, on which I'll have to pay the deductible. So I'm going to get an estimate on what it would cost to fix, and then probably not get it fixed. It's not like my car isn't a mass of smal dents already anyway.
The point is that the other woman doesn't want her premiums to go up, so she's offered to let me pay for the whole shebang and not make a claim either way. That would be the easy way out, for sure, except that I don't have $800 to spend on her car. I didn't have $800 to spend on my computer, I don't have it to spend on my own car, and I sure as hell don't have it to spend on anyone else's car. However, the accident *was* my fault, so maybe I'll ask my parents for a Christmas present (for the next three Christmases or so ^^;) that would get my ass out of the frying pan.
*sigh*
You think you have insurance to help you out in these situations, but really all it does is fuck you over more. People should learn from Terry Pratchett.
So, how's your day going?
It never rains but it pours
Nov. 29th, 2005 12:05 pmThe migraine is back. Whee.
Also, I hit someone with my car yesterday. Well, I hit their car. No injuries on either side, and cosmetic damage to both cars. That'll teach me to be more careful checking my blind spots. I checked, but apparently not well enough, and it was dark and it was raining, and it all went to hell. Now I have to dig out my insurance information and all that crap, and deal with all the bad on that end. This is going to be so much fun.
I so can't afford this.
At least my wordcount is over 50,000. One less thing to worry about. Mind you, I can't seem to print out my winner's certificate on the printer here at work. Something about the printer not having enough memory for the .pdf file. Go figure. Anyone have any insight about that?
Meh. Things keep going from bad to worse. I could really, really use a break from the universe right now.
Can I hibernate until spring, do you think?
Also, I hit someone with my car yesterday. Well, I hit their car. No injuries on either side, and cosmetic damage to both cars. That'll teach me to be more careful checking my blind spots. I checked, but apparently not well enough, and it was dark and it was raining, and it all went to hell. Now I have to dig out my insurance information and all that crap, and deal with all the bad on that end. This is going to be so much fun.
I so can't afford this.
At least my wordcount is over 50,000. One less thing to worry about. Mind you, I can't seem to print out my winner's certificate on the printer here at work. Something about the printer not having enough memory for the .pdf file. Go figure. Anyone have any insight about that?
Meh. Things keep going from bad to worse. I could really, really use a break from the universe right now.
Can I hibernate until spring, do you think?
