Interesting Article on The Brain

http://io9.com/5871076/what-happens-when-your-brain-is-split-in-two-+-and-you-survive

"The left side of the brain is generally in control of the following: language, math, and logic.

The right side of the brain takes over other functions, including: imagery, including facial recognition, music, and spacial relations."

---Got me thinking about correlations between certain things based on brain dominance. Do right brained people, feel differently about music? Stronger? More in tune with it? Does it mean more to them? Do they process music differently.

Some people only care about the lyrics of a song, others the music, others need the whole thing to be good to really enjoy it/get the most out of it. Does brain dominance make a difference in which one of those a person is?

Is the left-brained person more inclined to listen to the lyrics while the right-brained focuses on the musical sounds themselves? what about people who don't have one side significantly more dominant than the other? Are they the ones who need for every part of the "musical package" to be just right to work for them?

I don't have these answers. Hell I don't even know if these answers exist, but it's fun to muse and ponder. :)

I Fucking Love This Site So Much!

KABOOM!

Back to blog silence for now.

(Updated)

I have to find a pair of low frequency noise cancellation headphones. Like, industrial grade good. I bought the kind you'd use for the gun range. Two actually. Both at the highest (31) rating I could find; cup ones and ear plugs, I even wore them together. Didn't work. You'd think they'd double the hearing loss. Not even fucking close. There was no difference between wearing one set and wearing both together. Apparently most ear protection is made to block high frequency sounds. Who knew?

I am at my wits end. I can't get anything done and I'm beside myself with frustration. And I realize this next bit is me (and I'm working on it), but by the time it stops, I am so worked up it takes me hours to calm down. That's hours after the hours I've have to spend listening to their clomp, clomp clomping. And it's always right during prime writing time, which just adds further insult to injury.

I cannot get any peace and quiet. I need quiet like most people need food.
Please, please, please, please, please let whatever I order come quickly.


UPDATE: So the low frequency ear protection is out because it won't help. It can't stop the vibrations, which is what's really being transmitted the worst from upstairs. Even with the earphones on the vibration is still going to come through physically. Even deaf people can "hear" vibrations which is why you can sometimes use it to get their attention.

I'm at the point where I've lost my ability to treat molehills like molehills. Everything is a damn mountain now thanks to stress, anxiety and lack of sleep. In light of that, I think I'm going to go into "radio silence" for a bit with the blog. I do not have anything nice to say and I don't want this to turn into some non-stop bitch-fest, no matter how well deserved.

Um, Saturday?

Really? Seriously, when did this happen? It's supposed to be Friday today. GIVE ME BACK MY FRIDAY!
.
.
.
Please?

But I have so much to do...

Sigh

Apparently Youtube is broken for me now. I have changed nothing, but Youtube certainly looks different. Way to break yourself Youtube. Now go put yourself back to the way you were before. Working.

Still resisting Skyrim. For the moment.

Random Stuff

Here is a link.









I should be strong today. I should get stuff done, not spend the entire day in Skyrim. I should....
I have slayed dragons! I snuck up on a dragon!

I am a terrible hero. And compulsive collector of anything that isn't nailed to the floor (and believe me, I've tried to get those as well).

I have part of a post for this that I need to flog myself to finish and post because it's kinda funny (mostly at me).

My first inclination in almost any game like this is to raise my carrying capacity. Even before damage or armor. Why? So I can carry more stuffses! More stuffs is more monehs! And more flowers. More bowls, pots, armor, lanterns, emblaming tools, pickaxes, linen wrappings, ruined books and barnacles! I HAZ STUFFSES!

Dammit. I told myself yesterday that if I played then, I'd have to be productive today. But my will is weak... And the urge to avoid life is strong. And, and, and... there are internet dragons to slay. Because apparently one cannot play single player games without a mandatory internet connection anymore. Which is an angry, frothing, fist-waving rant for another time.

Perhaps I shall stare at animals I cannot afford atm. Soon animals. Soon you will be mine.

Essay! I Haz Beated You!*

I'm either going to collapse in exhaustion, or sink deep into Skyrim. I haven't decided which yet.**



*And by "beated" I really mean, am no longer able to pull the suck out of it. And there is a lot of suck still left in it. This lit course was hell and I did not do particularly well. I still have an exam, an in class essay and another paper to write for it. Fuck. Me. At least my short fiction class mark should be good.


**Ah, Poundy one and two are home. So, sink into Skyrim it is. Damn. I really wanted to sleep.

How can such a short essay be such a massive problem?! I have a clear thesis and everything! It's 1,750 words. It's by no means a long essay... but it's making my brain explode. If it wasn't worth a quarter of my mark I think I'd seriously consider not doing it just to be done with it already. But I have to do it, and it's due today. As in this is the very last fucking day to hand it in without extreme penalty (that I cannot afford markswise).

Dear essay word Gods. Here is your goat. I have sacrificed much to you. I humbly ask that you grace me with a completed essay that doesn't suck.

Sincerely,
Wicked

Go The Fuck To Sleep

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! This is brilliant.

I'm going to leave the "who it's narrated by" a surprise. You will not be disappointed. :)

The non-stop pacing was bad enough. Did we really have to add boots into the mix? Really?

Fuck. I am trying to study here, and finish up major assignments and, oh yea, sleep would also be nice.

The beauty of it.

The beauty of sharp knives is how damn sharp they are.

The problem with sharp knives is how damn sharp they are.

In other news:

I have seen the face of my enemy and they do not weigh the 600 pounds you'd expect based on how heavy they walk. And incidentally, their absurd OCD pacing lasted for 6 hours*.

There is no way I'm going to be getting a good night's sleep again, let alone the nights before my exams. I weep for the brilliance that could have been and never will.

See? See what lack of sleep does to me?

*No need to rub your eyes, you are not hallucinating. You totally read that right.

I Have Not The Words, UPDATED

I can't even begin to imagine what could possibly be causing the person above me to be either A) stomping back and forth for 2 solid hours, or B) pounding something for 2 solid fucking hours.

It is inconceivable. Either way I wish they would stop.

No seriously, what in the holy fucking hell could possibly require you to stomp back and forth about 5 steps for literally 2 or more hours nonstop? What. The. Fuck? I am feeling stabby. WARNING, WARNING APPROACHING RAGE STATUS. I REPEAT. APPROACHING RAGE STATUS.

Not even Skyrim can keep me from ignoring it for this long. I am at a loss. Could they maybe pass out from the strain already? Maybe some serious internal hemorrhaging. Thanks.

Wait. No internal hemorrhaging. I don't need blood seeping through my ceiling like some goddamn horror movie. Just a quiet slipping away into repose most gentle is fine. See how kind I am?


UPDATE: They are still doing it. Wow. Just... wow.

Also, the ceiling/floor divide is apparently paper thin as well because I can hear them talking and I'm pretty sure they aren't yelling or anything. As in, I can make out individual voice genders, and tone of voice and I'm not even actively listening. If I actually tried, I could probably tell you what they're talking about. This is beyond terrible.

I just want to say now that it's been lovely knowing you all and I hope you'll visit me in prison because there's no way this can possibly end well.

UPDATE the second: Still. Going.

Big Final Projects due, so of course my brain has a "Gone Fishin" sign!

Let's see.
Major projects due?
Check.
Urgent need to work on them tonight?
Check.
Too much energy to be sitting at a computer?
Check! Checkity, check, check!
Entirely too many distractions?
CHE- what? Oooo, shiny.
Desire to be anywhere but here right now?
Holy hell check.
Sigh
Gonna be a long few days peeps. Wish me luck. No. Wish me mental fortitude and stick-with-it-ness!
Yessssss...*

I don't give a fuck how old it is Ride Cowboy Ride** is still amazing!

I really wish I had somewhere to go and something to do tonight. But this town sucks. A festering, unfriendly pile of nothing.

*for some reason that yes is creeping me out. Did it creep you out? Does it now that I've brought your attention to it? Will it haunt your dreams in strange ways? You're welcome. :D

**Old school Bon Jovi song.

Music

Don't Stare at the Sun by Cicada

Save Me by Nicki Minaj* is half good and half... meh.

Shattered by Trading Yesterday is heart breakingly beautiful from lyrics to composition.

Ah melancholy music, where would I be without you?

First impression of Skyrim coming. Haven't played much yet. While it is a fucking gorgeous game, I've all ready run into bugs. Really guys? Four hours into the game doing pretty normal shit and I'm all ready having to deal with bug for which the only cure is to completely uninstall and then reinstall the game? Indeed...

*What? Don't judge me. I saw those Britney Spears songs you've got hidden there. Yea... That's what I thought.

Trying Something New

Waaaay back, I cut myself off video games completely because they were becoming an atrociously inexcusable time sink from which I could not pull myself away.

I have decided to try something a little different. I'm only allowed to play video games on my "free day" (the day I have no obligations*), but only if I get certain other things done during the week. How many of those things I get done determines how many hours I get to park my ass in front of the computer and zone out in video game bliss. My god I must be terribly boring. Too bad!

To that end, I shall be purchasing the much hyped Skyrim (assuming I can find a copy in this tiny ass, fucking, shit town) for to be whiling my time away in. I will almost, probably be purchasing either the Star Wars or Guild Wars 2 MMO when they come out. Not sure which yet.

I feel like I've let you all down again. So little funny gets posted here again as of late. I am sorry for that. I just really haven't been in a very funny mood lately.

*Unless I get a dog of course who will still need to relieve on a regular basis. Unless I can somehow train my dog to hold its needs for exercise and bowel relievement** for an entire day. And if I could do that, FUCK CESAR! I would be Queen, queen I tell you, of doggies everywhere!MUHAHAHAHAHA!

**Naturally spellchecker hates the word relievement. I'm a writer spellchecker, we make shit up. Deal. One of these days spellchecker and I are going to don gloves and step into the ring and it will be on! Now, I'm not a bettin' man, but if I were, my money'd be on me. Spellchecker is very concerned with rules and propriety and doing things right. Meanwhile, I'll be sweeping dirt into spellchecker's eyes and punching it in the junk. "Spellchecker doesn't have junk" "Punch it there anyways!" *This is the sound of spellchecker being punched in the junk. Imagine as you will* "Spellchecker has junk!"

I am going to get a dog. I've thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it some more. I am really looking forward to having a buddy, someone to go on walks with, take to the dog park and chill with when I'm studying or reading etc.

I miss having a furry friend in my life. :(

I've found a couple of potentials that have me excited, now I've got to narrow it down and then apply or whatever. Wish me luck that I find the most perfectest, awesomest doggie ever. :)

You Know You're A Night Owl

When you habitually start major baking projects after 8pm, knowing full well they won't end until somewhere around midnight. Or later. I'm just sayin'.

There has got to be a better way to do this. Baking shouldn't take this looooong.

Is this worth posting? Probably not. But you get it anyways! Oh you lucky people, you!

In Other News

Why yes I am procrastinating despite the post I just put up saying I was going to get back to work. Why do you ask? ;)

In other news, I've completely given up trying to understand my dreams anymore. They've gone to a place I just don't get. It's not like they're crazier than normal, they're just so out of my realm of understanding or dissecting for meaning. Something I'm usually pretty good at.

I've had a variation of one dream, hmmm, I'm gonna say 3, maybe 4 times now in the past couple of years (this makes it a theme dream, I have many, some themes stay for decades, some come and go) that I do not get. It's always very vivid, no matter how mind bendingly bizarre it gets, and each time I have it I wake up a little confused for a moment as too what world and which rules I'm on and operating under.

The dream always involves world hopping and hidden gates to other places and frequently has a sort of nexus point, mini world, in-between place with a huge concentration of gates (frequently guarded by hostiles that are usually not even remotely human, frequently bug-like). There's also usually a lot of running and hiding and dodging violent search parties, and oppositional forces who are much better equipped and basically have control of everything (multiple worlds, the nexus point etc.)

This particular time, there wasn't an in-between world that I was aware of, but there were multiple worlds, all looking pretty similar to this one. However, and I don't remember exactly how or who was causing it, but people were getting thrown into worlds that weren't theirs. Mostly all in this one particular worlds (with the prettiest ocean you've ever seen). The catch? None of us could understand anyone else. Not the people on the world we were in, not the people thrown in from other worlds (though we did somehow know that none of us belonged in this particular world) .

To make it harder, we had to somehow traverse the world we were in to the gate that would send us to our respective worlds without being able to communicate with anyone. At all. Imagine trying to work together and navigate an entire fucking world when you can't read, write or speak the language of anyone else, including the people you're trying to navigate this with, while trying not to let on to the natives that you're not one of them. I tell you, it involved a lot of hand gestures with my fellow off-worlders.

I don't remember if we were being chased or hunted this time (pretty typical of this dream-theme scenario)...

Also, I'm not sure what it is with the creepy-ass underground Egyptian-like tomb dreams (with the dead ends and downer endings), but they can stop any fucking time now thanks. Dear dreams, your grandiose, sweeping architecture is amazing, but I'd appreciate it even more if I wasn't busy trying not to die painfully. Kthanks.

The serial killer loose in poorly lit hospital with tons of graphically mutilated corpses dreams can stop as well. That shit is fucking frightening.

I Feel Like Bragging Tonight

Just took a vocabulary quiz here and scored 3,660 points. The average score is 2,470. So yea, I kinda rocked that. Tee hee hee. I identified all the words correctly. The only word I'd never seen before and didn't actually know offhand was Repine. Puerile being the next hardest word on there.

Ok back to homework and trying to find the perfect descriptive word (that I can't remember) which is what started this whole digression in the first place.

Well Fuck. :(

Sonnovabitch! It's snowing, hard here and I don't have proper tires on and like everywhere else here, island drivers are super, level 11, scary-bad at driving in snowy/icy conditions. weehaw.

Shit, shit shit. I'ma have to get tires changed asap!

It's half raining half snowing here. Poo. :(

EDITED to add: no snow here, non that stayed anyways, but a place about an hour away had a blizzard!

There you go. Wasn't that hair raising. Heart pounding. Thank goodness you know how it all panned out. Rest assured I will let you know if we get a real snowfall! You're welcome. I know that's important to each and every one of you.

Link Storm!

A Music Link Extravaganza! As promised, music for your hearts and ears. :)

Intro by The XX short, but awesome.

This is one of the best improv songs I have ever heard/watched. The song alone is brilliant, but the way they act it is so 80s melodrama it's amazing!

I wasn't a huge fan of Sexy and I Know It by LMFAO, but it's grown on me and now I quite like it... and wonder about my sanity every time. But it's funny, too bad it's the only thing I've liked from them so far.

The band Austra has two good songs Lose It and Beat and Pulse. I have to say, Watch official videos or lyrics because watching them live is an interpretive dance on ecstasy show, so if that ain't yo thang, y'all been warned.

Icarus by White Hinterland is wicked. This is the best version I've found, your mileage may vary.

Colin Hay's Waiting For My Real Lie to Begin is mellow and pretty. I really like the lyrics.

The song Transformer by Gnarls Barkley or Cee Lo (oh song title, you're so apropos).

Wrapped In Your Arms by Fireflight is my absolute most favoritest song right now. So good on every level.

Enlighten yourselves, Readers (if you haven't all ready) with some Youtube, Epic Rap Battles of History. I'm not gonna lie to you, they're hit or miss. But when they hit, they hit awesome. The ones with: the Easter Bunny, Napoleon, Hulk Hogan (you have to wait til Hulk goes down it gets hilarious then), Mr. Rogers, Cat in the Hat, all those are good imo.

Shopping by myself is dangerous, not because I'm some crazy shopoholic (I hate shopping. I hate trying on clothes.), but because it leaves me entirely too much time to get bored and my brain decides it needs entertainment and starts, ohhh, coming up with subverted t-shirt sayings based on the ones it's looking at. I wish I'd written them down. They were... controversial. :) And funny, but Iz got bias. I'll try to remember some of them and post at some point. No promises though. But imagine my sense of humor, and typical t-shirt sayings. Now add something bizarre, snarky, jaded or sarcastic to the saying that undermines it. Bonus points if I managed to use all three in one short, pithy little extra addition. >:)

Ok one shitty example 'cause it's all can think of atm. T-shirt saying "sugar and spice" now with added wicked, "and a little cocaine, cause it makes it taste nice." Bonus points if you remembered that the "cause it makes it taste nice" bit is from the chef in Disney's Little Mermaid movie; the scene where he's trying to kill the red mollusk dude. Crab? Crayfish? What was he again? I'm not looking it up. I won't.
No.

I'm pretty sure I should not be allowed to make and sell t-shirts. But I kinda want to.

Ok, homework then bed. Maybe one day I'll even get around to washing dishes.

I still want to know if dogs can adapt to different sleep schedules...

Cute!

Look! Look at the Rottweiler Puppies! OMG the cuteness! It blinds me!

And this one! Look at her. She looks so sweet!

Don't even get me started on kittehs. I could link pictures of cats for hours. But I won't. You're welcome.

Links! To Things!

Here is a link to a fascinating article by Rachel Stark on YA novel covers and the the current* trend to the objectification and dehumanization of the "beautiful dead girl."

I only just discovered it, but the blog as a whole looks quite interesting and worth checking out beyond the post in question.

Here is another very interesting and well argued post from the same blog titled: Waiting for the Right Monster to Come Along: On Twilight, Abusive Relationships, and YA Saves
Here's a longish quote from the post:

But when I think about the vast throngs of teenagers who have read the series and swooned over Edward, it physically pains me. Because no matter how many times Edward saves Bella’s life over the course of the series, that will never change the fact that, on their first date, he tells Bella he may not be able to stop himself from killing her. It doesn’t change the fact that he follows her, threatens her, makes all of her decisions for her, cuts her off from her friends and family emotionally and physically, instills her with the belief that his murderous impulses are her fault (she “has to be good” and not lose control of her urges when they kiss, so as not to tempt him), and attacks her when she says she’s not afraid of him, just to make sure that she learns to be. That’s just in book one, and it sure doesn’t sound like any healthy relationship I know of. In fact, I’m not the first person to point out that Edward’s and Bella’s relationship shows all the signs of an abusive relationship.

That is exactly what I've tried to argue (but not nearly as eloquently unfortunately) with a few people regarding my extreme distaste of Twilight specifically and the trend in Urban Fantasy** novels in general.

Last serious link. Here's a video on YouTube by Jean Kilbourne about the portrayal of women in advertising.

Ok this has gotten entirely too serious now and I'm fucking tired because I haven't been getting more than 4 broken hours of sleep each night. Again. As well as dealing with renewed surge in anxiety levels.

I found some cool music, but I accidentally lost all the internet tabs so I have to try and remember/find them all again. Also, I want a pet. A dog is a lot of responsibility and I question my commitment. I'd kinda prefer to have a cat at this point in time, but I worry any cat I get will be too much for my allergies, no matter how non-allergenic it is. Guys, my EYEBALLS swell. Not my eyelids (well, they do to) my fucking eyeballs!!! The white, squishy bits I use to see shit with? Yea, those. If I'm not careful and touch them after touching a cat or anything with too much cat on it, I look like a goddamn pug. Eyes all bulging out of their housing and shit. Fuck that. Plus, I could bring a dog on walks with me. Take it to the dog park and let it make all sorts of friends while I hang back and fade into the fencing until it's time to go. But, do dogs adjust to night schedules? Is there such a thing as night owl dogs? Will I be able to get my dog to switch to a more evening/night schedule and not need/want to wake me up at 5am to let it shit? Because I don't have a yard or anything. The park is a 5 or so minute drive away, but it's still a drive.

I probably shouldn't get a dog. :( And I probably can't have a cat. Rats are cool, but it's best to get more than one and they'd need a big cage... I want some thing more engaging than a hamster or a rabbit. Or bird.


*I say current because, as the article explains, there's a pretty long established history of this albeit with women as opposed to girls.

** Urban Fantasy which half the time isn't, even, because it's actually Paranormal Romance (which is its own fucking genre) being erroneously labeled as Urban Fantasy. Which kinda pisses off a lot of urban lovers because we're not fucking looking for romance stories with a paranormal twist to them. If I wanted a romance novel I'd go pick one up. I don't. I want kickass heroines actually doing shit, not slave-to-their-libido, dis-empowered, angst girls looking to be saved by their badboy alpha male who will now happily dictate their life from here on in and negate any smidgens of empowerment all those Little Miss Angst Buckets might, maybe, have managed to trip their way into during their high-heeled, quest for a husband.

That knife on her thigh? That knife there reader? That knife there? Pshhh don't pay that knife no mind, that's just a flimsy decoration to scare off weaker men. Any real alpha ignores the knife and the no associated with it because every alpha man knows no really means yes.

Edited to remove confusing explanation of something.

All Hail The Crickets!

I'm having one of those days where I'd very much like to be writing... and I very much don't know what to write. That is, when I tell myself “Brain, just write anything.” my brain goes blank. Terribly, frustratingly blank. And I find myself unable to come up with even something simple to write. Like, absolutely blank. I keep wanting to write something “different”, but I have no idea what that actually means. Define different brain.

Crickets.

Okaaay, different how?

Crickets.

Does it involve muskrats?

Crickets.

Aliens.

Mostly crickets, a slight sense that no, it does not involve aliens. I guess that's something...? Yes?

Crickets.

Badgers? (what is with you and small, furry mammals anyways?)

Crickets! Defiant, viciously blank, mother-fucking crickets! (is there a hyphen between mother and fucking on that? I can never remember? CRICKETS!!!!!!!!) everywhere I turn. CRICKETS!

Ahem, in other news, it is as I feared (man that sounded fucking formal, jesus what's wrong with me to- no, wait, I'm not finishing that, I already know what the damn answer will be. Can you guess? Can you?) my tapioca didn't set, even after it cooled. I added a bit more sugar and vanilla (it's ok because I'd actually cut back on the sugar when I made it, won't that learn me!) and put it back on in the hopes that I could burn off some of the excess liquid without wrecking it. I made it taste more interesting (it was sadly bland. Not bad tasting, just bland), but I don't think it'll thicken up anymore. Ah well, lesson learned. I'll just have to eat runny tapioca.

I had some low-key (for me) dreams. They were fun and mostly pleasant and involved some athletic tackling of stairs and stairwells by yours truly. Weeeee!

Also, I want a cat. I probably shouldn't have a cat right now, especially with the terrible, newly discovered cat allergy I picked up somehow, but I want a cute, cuddly, soft, awesome, loving, follows-me-everywhere-around-the-house-and-not-just-for-the-food kitty-cat. This is the part where you imagine me heaving a terrible sigh, meant to convey, in that one motion, all of my current loneliness and want for such a thing.

Well, now that I've brightened both our days up. Byebye.

Tapiooooooca!

I just finished making tapioca pudding. I loved tapioca pudding as a child. Loved. Loooved. But, the recipe normally calls for terribly unhealthy things like processed sugar and milk. Blech! So I substituted coconut milk and some unbleached, unrefined, no additives cane sugar. It's in the fridge cooling, but I think I'm seeing one small issue with it. Tapioca (or at least how I always ate it) should be thick, currently mine is a little too runny, even taking into account how much the cooling down should thicken it up. Next time, instead of the 2 3/4 cups of milk I'll cut it back to.... jesus, I don't know, I'm not a cook! I'll probably just try cutting back to 2 1/4 or maybe even just 2 cups. I find natural cane sugar to have a lighter, more delicate taste, so it might be a good idea to add a wee bit more next time, not sure. Tapioca pudding isn't the strongest tasting thing to begin with.

Ok, back to watching Good Eats while I wait for my pudding to cool. Hot damn, I love that show. :)

Two upcoming MMOs have caught my attention. Star Wars: Old Republic and Guild Wars 2 (which is somewhat amusing because I couldn't stand the first GW).

Both look interesting. Guild Wars 2 looks visually stunning. Both have aspects that sound interesting to me and both keep their pvp largely separate from their pve, a must because I am not an MMO-pvp fan in the slightest.

Alas, the release date for SWTOR is Dec 20. GW 2 just says "sometime in 2011"... which, is coming to an end pretty quickly here guys!

Not that I have time to play something so involved as an MMO.... only it's been so very long since I had one I enjoyed and I should quite like to, maybe, one day, schedule permitting, play again. :(

But until I learn me some "all things in moderation, including video games" I'ma probably stay away from both. Boooo.

I watched a couple of episodes of that new show Once Upon A Time... yea. Really basic plot holes drive me nuts, especially when they're blatantly ignored because having people take the next logical fucking step that anyone in their place would, would pretty much end the story dead in its tracks. To that I say; so don't ignore it, either find a way to effectively neutralize it as an option, or find a way to have said next logical step happen, and still keep the story going. Part of our jobs as writers. That's not an easy answer but hey, you're the one who decided to write the story that way and this shit comes with the territory. Unless you're a big name I guess? In which case you can ignore it after all?

The thorn in question being the fact that early on, Henry's mother very clearly lays out how the law works for closed case adoptions and lack of rights on the birth mothers side to go digging that up again later (when she's the one who requested it be closed to begin with). So the fact that Emma's now hanging around Henry against his adoptive mother's wishes is pretty cut and dried. You call the cops, ask for a restraining order, press charges based on the evidence of her continuously hanging around your son and whatever else.

The cops come and say "ma'am, I'm afraid you have to leave" and escort her away! But then she couldn't stick around and we'd have no plot and no tv show...

Of course, it is television and I don't know if television show writers have more or less say than they do in movies (which is to say, none in movies). If less or the same, then there's a reasonable chance the omission wasn't the writer's fault. Annnd I'm bored with this topic!

Time to go sleep!

Warning: This Post is Angry and Depressing, You May wish to Skip It.

You know what would be awesome? Sleep. You know what else would be awesome? If the assholes who play their music on volume 11 every fucking night would stop. Cops won't do jack about it (no seriously, they won't, you're welcome to come try, I know I have) and I can't go knock on their door and ask them to turn it down because I'm pretty sure that they're one of the drug dealers in the building. Drug dealers as a whole don't tend to be the most thoughtful people going and I don't fancy getting my tires slashed or my window smashed.

I fucking hate this apartment complex. Go me, I accidentily wound up in one of the shittiest neighborhoods in Nanaimo. I can't even give myself shit for this terrible decision because at the time I; a) hadn't slept in several days, b) was in a state of for-real-no-exaggeration 24/7 extreme anxiety at the time and having daily panic attacks and thus not exactly what you'd call functioning let alone possessing of acute mental powers (or rational thought), c) desperate, d) it was, believe it or not, the best of the bunch out of the apartments I looked at, and e) one of the few affordable suites* on the market at that time.

Getting between 0-3 hours of sleep a night makes it kinda hard to function. In case any of you were considering experimenting let me give you some advice. Don't. Instead, try shooting yourself in the foot, I promise it's less painful and less of a hassle to deal with.

If I could at least use the extra time to catch up on homework, that would be something, but I'm too tired to concentrate or read or anything. It's very hard to maintain a positive outlook under these circumstances.

School is important to me. Doing well is important to me. Getting sleep is important to me. Right now, all of these things are being severely impaired. It would help if I felt like I had options I could exercise instead of feeling helpless and angry and impotent and completely dis-empowered by the whole situation. I had to sign a lease (which I really didn't want to do) so I'm stuck here until... May, I think. Possibly later? Oh God, I hope not.

*And I use the term affordable in the loosest of ways. Affordable meaning, it broke the bank slightly less than other suites (again, some of whom were in worse condition, but somehow still costing more. Fascinating!)


Ok, I will stop now. I had to get some of that off my chest.

I would carry it with me where ever I went

I want this mug for when I'm feeling anti social, or in a public place. You know, whichever. The product description for it is incredible.

I owe you posts, if for no other reason than because I just so*.

Also, here is this. This is funny. Go look at this**.

Life here still looks like a chicken running around with its head cut off splurting**** blood everywhere... if said chicken also happened to have octopus arms attached to it that were flailing around all crazy-like in their death throes.

Ok, back to homework and trying not to burn things or make them taste like shit because God knows I don't make anything else instead if I fuck it up and it does end up tasting like shit. A girl can only spend so much time cooking before her head explodes.



*Way to go me. Now you have to deliver. Way to pressure yourself. Way to set up expectations you now have to actually meet. I'm such an asshole to myself sometimes.

**This being awesome responses to obnoxious graffiti. I should have explained that up there, but since I'm being an asshole to myself, why stop there? Why not make you work for your fucking funny. Huh? huh? How do you like that***?!

***Wow. I don't know what to say to that. Sorry? I will send myself to my room for a time out... After I finish cooking. And getting my homework done. Which is due tomorrow. So maybe that time out will happen tomorrow. No, wait, I've got class and shit tomorrow. Sorry, my time out for being mean to you will totally have to wait til.... uh, hmmm (mumbling to self now) well, Tuesday I have to do all that damn running around and Wednesday I'm back in class, so, uhhh, maybe Thursday I'll discipline myself?

**** Spellchecker doesn't like splurting, probably because I made it up and spellchecker is a little hidebound about that sort of shit. Spellchecker needs to learn the value of adaptation.

Defiantly Thumbing My Nose at Negativity

Quietly, from behind a tree. Where it can't see me.

Life is completely fucked at the moment, hence the silence. When one has the bottom dropped out from under one's feet in all areas of life, one finds it difficult to make funny blog posts. Also, I have no idea why I used one there and not me.

So here is a bunch of random shit to entertain you, now that I'm not living out of my car.

Email to Most Beloved following up a text he sent me:
Here is my recommendation on the exact look to give someone crowding you in line who isn't a puppy or a super model.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiV7M8Llkxo

Also, I've decided to take offense over your desire to have super models standing too close to you, invading your personal space*. I've decided the best response is to punch both you, and the super model in question. But mostly you, because, while the supermodel might suspect that someone as amazing and sexy as you has someone in their life, she doesn't know it. You do.


Another email exchange:
Most Beloved: I think the dehydrator is against the back wall in line with the weight bench. Don't know if you can climb back there and get it or not. On second thought the way things have been going do not attempt to climb back there and get it. I repeat please do not try and climb over stuff in storage to get it. :)

My Reply: What could possibly go wrong with me climbing all over unstable furniture in a storage facility devoid of people and frequently crawling with spiders**?


Random: Aahh the bass is going strong tonight. It's gonna be a good night in squalorville. It's gonna be a good night in squalorville***!


Random: I shall do nothing today that I do not want to. And I shall thumb my nose at negativity (only quietly, and from behind a bush so it can't stomp me with its fist of pain)!

Hmmmm I recall at one point being able to embed a video here instead of just the link. But it's not letting me do that.


*Puppies are OK. Unless they start giving him the eye. Then they get punched. And don't start in on me with some bullshit about puppies and cognitive processes, I'm feeling punchy.

**I have extreme arachnophobia. Extreme. I would explain how bad it is, but the explanation would actually terrify me and cause a panic attack and I'm having enough of those lately thank you.

*** Slightly altered reference to an old, disturbing Much Music commercial. So disturbing I loved it.

The Fail Would Be Epic

I can never, ever have a phone with auto correct on it. Terrible, terrible things would come of it.

This Site is made of epic win.

Random Shit That Will Probably Bore The Pants Off You. Now With Updates!

And then you'll be wandering around pants-less, possibly being pointed and laughed at and cursing me. No one wins here*. Just walk away man. Just walk away.

I miss understanding the latest in comp tech well enough to build my own rig from scratch. I've done it 2... maybe 3 times in total, but that was so long ago. I look now and so much has changed. I don't have the first clue anymore on matching components, compatibility, best buys, prices, performance etc.

I love computers, but that love (and my damn free time) falls shy of the amount needed to constantly keep up-to-date on this stuff. I want to, but every time I try to wade in, it's like I know nothing and I'm starting from scratch all over again. And, well, I don' wanna. An alternative to writing would have seen me probably happily building computers in a back room somewhere, lacking basic human interaction and loving it**. Sadly, I was never quite able to get into that. Instead, I usually end up in Techsupport, *shudder* with it's customer service and helping people*** horrors. I'll be right back, no worries, just need to clear a little vomit out of my mouth.

So anyways, the tldr version is, want new computer. Broke and cheap, wish to make own, can't. Don't know enough anymore. Ugh, Wicked feel stupid. Smash gud. Teach electrical thingies not mess with.

Oh hell, ADD strikes again. I had more random shit I was going to bore you with, but I can't remember it now... Nope, still missing. Fine. Here you go. Perhaps it'll come to me later and I can update this post.

UPDATE: Ah ha! I remembered. My blog is too limiting. I can't do the things I want with it. Can't rearrange things the way I want to. I keep looking at that there Wordpress thingy that all the published, professional writers use. But the sheer amount of work involved, wow. And to get the themes I want? Money. Web hosting. Registering a domain name (all the cool names I want are taken. And I'm terrible at coming up with names and titles. You have no idea.). Jesus. So. Much. Effort. And money. I mentioned I'm broke yes?

OK, bye bye.


*Unless you're the kind of person who never swears. In which case, I count this a total win for me.

**Yes, I am that antisocial. :) I once had a glorious job wherein I frequently went weeks at a time without talking to another human being in a way that required my voice. I loved it. I keep waiting for this whole "oh, woe, woe is me! Writing is so lonely, so isolating" thing to kick in. *Peers around* Not fast enough I tell you.

***Which, sadly, I'm pretty good at. Or use to be, my threshold for this shit has worn very, very thin now.

Spellchecker Likes To Think It's Better Than You

Spellchecker needs to get the fuck off its high horse and accept cuss words. Life is messy Spellchecker. Deal with it.

The Things I forget To Post

The things is, I write snippets of things all the time. Sometimes they end up on this blog. Sometimes I revisit them and decide, "Mmm, no. Not gonna do it, wouldn't be prudent."* Sometimes I just lose them. Didn't mean to, but there you have it. If I'm lucky, I find it later. Like this one, which I wrote sometime during the semester's end. Here you go, in all its unfinished glory. :)

For Your Amusement and Edification While I'm Busy Plunging Into the Soul Sucking Vortex of Exams, Stress and Sleep Deprivation**

I can't remember where I saw it now, but some blog had a bunch of people pissing and moaning over the “state of language today.” * rolls eyes * Yea, because language has always been such a static thing up until now. Jesus.

One of the words they hated people using was actually. Apparently it irritates them to no end.

I use that word.

I use that word because I live in a world where I have to clarify these things. For ex. “That's actually interesting.”

Person A: “So then I told him he could jolly well jump off a bridge and get stung by hornets. Can you believe he said that to me?!”

What Person B says out loud: “That's interesting.”

What Person B was really thinking: “Oh my sweet fuck. Will you just shut up, I have a bottle of hard liquor and a STD I could be catching right now.”

Shit, I was going somewhere with this. Next up was an example with me using the word. It was funny, but I can't remember it now because:

I haven't been sleeping lately, I only have 20 pages finished of a 120+ page script, exams to study for, and I'm up at 5:45am every morning and I'm most definitely not a morning person.***

So, that was my blast to the past. Hope you enjoyed it, I know I did. Now I leave you with this strange image I wrote down somewhere around 3 am last night and can't draw myself, but totally would if I could. But might yet someday if I ever learn that there drawrin' thang.

A polar bear enjoying a nice, fresh croissant.

*Given the things I do deem to be postable, can you imagine what it must take to make something unpostable? For me?! Inconceivable!

**Would have been post title.

***And no, I won't fucking adjust eventually and the next person who suggests such a profoundly stupid and irritating thing gets their teeth shoved through their liver while I punch a pepperoni through their skull. Some people's circadian rhythms are naturally tuned to night, just like some people's are tuned to morning (with the majority being a little later in the day, but not the godawful early of “morning people"). There's piles of literature on it. Read it. Know it. Stop being a dick.****

****Goodness gracious I was angry there! Or at least grumpy. And clearly sleep-deprived. And tired of being told "You'll adjust to mornings."

My Favorite Thing! UPDATE

You know what I love? When people mistake polite and subdued for stupid and gullible and think that means they can rook you with idiocy and shady business practices. Oh wait! Whoops! * smacks forehead* I'm sorry, I don't love that. My bad. I don't love that at all.

H.A.T.E.

So sorry, next time I'll try to remember to be a complete bitch to you so you don't make that terrible mistake again and end up looking like the world's biggest fucking jackass. Fucking assholes.

If only I had the cojones* to say that to the asshole in question.... versus the oh-so confrontational method of writing it in anonymity on a blog no one fucking sees. Sigh. Baby steps? I'm not passive aggressive, just incredibly non-confrontational until pushed to my breaking point. Which, apparently, needs to arrive sooner in these moments.


* On a much happier and completely silly note. I instinctively spelled cojones right instead of using the typical English misspelling of it, and shall now take a brief moment to bask in my own awesomeness.
You may join me. :)

EDITED to add: Oh, ho ho. I'm not letting this one go boys and girls. I tried, but I'm really not a fan of people blatantly trying to rip me off, and expect I'll just shut up about it and quietly go away. Fuck that noise. :)

My sense of justice and fairness (not to mention decent business practices) is yelling at me to do something. My hope is that if I commit to it, I can get back to writing, instead of spending the entire day fuming impotently.

1. 1 Broken Toe. Ah Ah Ah. 2. 2 Broken Toes. Ah Ah Ah

3. CRAKOW!*****

Yes, it's true. In the last 2 weeks or so I have managed to break 3 toes on two different feet. Which, since I only have two feet* makes it hard to walk around. On my left foot, the two toes closest to my big toe are broken. On my right foot I broke my baby toe. You might not think baby toes do much, Gentle Reader.

You would be wrong. Baby toes are valuable assets, heavily used in your basic walking type movement.

Of course you're dying, dying, to know how I broke them all. I'd like to say that I managed this feat of awesome while saving kittens from certain death by toddler, or stopping a runaway train, with the sheer force of my smile, from splatting a bunch of frail old people moving-very-slowly-with-walkers.

If I was feeling particularly inventive, I might spin you a tale about this one time in band camp when aliens landed and I single-handedly defeated them all with nothing more than a beat-up old tuba, three pairs of swimming trunks and Billy** from across the lake. In the process of being a one-woman, collar bone equivalent breaking, whirlwind of destruction I failed to notice that their skin is hard like diamonds. I KO'd*** the shit out of a dozen aliens, but broke my toes in the process. Luckily I also have 3 levels of "Mama Ain't Raised No Pussy"**** and was able to keep going.

The other toe was probably nearly eaten by a small, portable Sarlacc Pit it just happened to have in its pocket. In the alien's pocket. Obviously. Sarlacc Pits can't go carrying themselves around in their own back pockets, that's just silly.

But the sad, boring truth is that I stubbed them all, rather forcefully, on various items laying around the house (I'm looking at you, weight bar in my living room). Apparently I just had to go and ram them repeatedly into things harder then them.
Inanimate objects 3. Toes 0. Touche inanimate objects. Touche.


* You were totally expecting me to say otherwise weren't you. Like maybe I was gonna go off on some tangent and be all "This one time, at band camp...." Well, well. Jokes on you this time isn't it. Isn't it! I am normal... In this regard.

** Billy didn't do much, but he was great at running out into the open screaming and drawing the attention of everything in a three mile radius. Good 'ole Billy. It's too bad about that alien ray gun.

*** What? Breaking a collar bone hurts. And these were wimpy aliens. No pain tolerance. Don't look at me like that. I can still axe kick, broken toes or not. I am Badass.

**** Ohhh the irony of that title in regards to my gender. Also, should I ever decide to make a Pen and Paper RPG, I'm totally going to use that as the title for the pain tolerance ability.

***** This is the sound thunder makes. And it's number five instead of one because I forgot to add this until the end. Also, I'm lazy and refuse to go back and re-number everything because that can't possibly be quicker than typing this explanation out. You're welcome.

It's always bullet time when I vomit.

If you go all the way back to the end of May, there is a post that I accidentally left sitting in the draft stage and only now got around to posting. It's an angry post, but in it I also dub myself the Sith Lord Queen of Failbake so it might be worth a read.

In other news, I give you more random convo snippets and things you might hear if standing near me:

"It's always bullet time when I vomit."

"No, Most Beloved, you may not “capture my crazy” on camera for posterity."

Adventures with Meat!

Man that sounds dirty doesn't it? Tee hee.

Latest round of jerky did not turn out as good as the first batch. I'm not entirely sure why, could be any number of reasons. The meat we got this time was sliced verrry thin. Thin enough that I suspect drying it out before sticking it in the dehydrator (that being the normal process) may have caused it to lose all the yummy-tummy flavor. Another issue could have been that I didn't make enough marinade for it all. As such the meat didn't get covered enough. Realistically it was probably a combination of all those factors. Lesson learned for next time.

This saddens me greatly because not only do I looooove LOVE good beef jerky, I went to considerable time and effort to make an amazing sweet and spicy marinade that I was quite proud of. C'est la vie.

I enjoy writing funny shit. I need to do that more often.

An Open Letter

An open letter to the bag of Swedish Fish I bought to try and recreate a portion of my childhood.

Dear Swedish Fish,

You are fucking up my childhood. Please stop.

Thank you.

A Little Bronchitis To Go With Your Stressful Life?

So that was Bronchitis I spent the last several weeks battling. Cuz that's about as much fun as you can legally have.

Wooooo.

Woo.

I'm mostly better now. Just trying to kick off the last few bits of it. Like those annoying children that want something from you and you won't give it to them so they hang off your leg and drag along the ground as you try to walk. Just like that. :)

And Then They Shot Me

I may have lied to you gentle readers. Not having a description for your story might not aggravate me as much as having one that doesn't tell me one goddamn thing.

Book Description:
In an ancient age of upheaval, betrayal and misery; in a world torn apart by violence and war, the fate of the world hangs on one small, pretty fucking helpless woman.

Running from a fate worse than death, Destiny McCliche is violated by vicious, sorcery wielding wolf-bears and left to die in the harsh, forbidding shadow of Mount Evildoomsmashcrash.

But Fate has plans for Destiny, cruel plans that don't include her death, just a shit ton of suffering and victimization under the treacherous guise of angry muscles and force-as-romance. Mystifying plans of mysteriousness. Only the Gods know if she'll succeed, or drown the world in darkness everlasting... or do they?

Tina Idon'thaveabookdescriptionforyou lives in Bumblyfuck, Missouri* with her eight dogs, sixteen cats, twelve budgies, a heffalump and two tigers. When not penning her latest masterpiece of aren't-you-sorry-you-didn't-come-up-with-this, NoTelly McFancypants snorts cocaine off the bloated tits of a dead hooker Cletus found in the swamp one time. She also likes to knit.

Jesus fucking christ. I know more about you then I do your goddamn book!!! I can't begin to add enough exclamation points to that last sentence. I would get cast out of the super sekret writers-to-be group if I put as many there as I want to. Lets just say I almost went all Old Yeller up in this shit and had to be taken out back and shot. Tragically. To Very Sad Music.

*Sorry Missourians, but you really need to do something about all those dead hookers out in your swamp.

Sleepin' In. I'm Doin' It.

I had a rollicking good 12 hours of sleep last night. Which probably sounds a bit much for some of you, but I've been running on serious sleep dep for almost a year now so no, no it's exactly what I need and it makes me happy.

I wish I could draw. Barring that, I wish I knew someone who could draw and would do so for me. Ah, hell and paint, because I am woefully out of practice and wouldn't be able to achieve the look this story requires. I came up with this awesome 1-2 page children's comic*. It's weird and whimsical and surreal and I can see every panel in my head like a blazing light. The idea would mesh perfectly with Daniel Lieske's more whimsical art like Cloud City. Go check, I'll wait.

Isn't that beautiful and amazing? It is.


*for real, it's actually a children's comic. I'm not even fucking with you on this one. No, it is.

Irritation

Irritation is clicking on a link and failing to find the expected description of your book. You know, that thing you put hundreds of blood, sweat and hours into? That thing your hoping everyone will love and buy so you can quit your soul-sucking, over alcohol inducing, hate-fest of a job, live in your pajamas and write full time in the comfort of your laundry room.

Not having that description? Just lost you a potential sale.

Just because it's a sequel (or later) doesn't mean I know you. It doesn't mean I've read anything by you before. I may be completely new to you and your work. Not telling me what your book's about just encourages me to not pick it up.

There are thousands of books out there to choose from, don't give me more incentive to not choose yours.

Holy christ that irritates me.

Adventures In Dehydrating With A side Salad Of Velociraptor!

I promised you an update on my Adventures in Dehydrating didn't I? Goddamn I'm a horrible person for not having that.

Ok, ok, tiny update. Meat is marinating (hahaha I misspelled that merindating. My meat is dating! A Merin! It better come home at a reasonable hour or I swear to god I'll be on my nonexistent porch with a shotgun loaded full with buckshot.). Was going to get it ready and in the dehydrator, until I remembered I have an appointment and didn't want to be gone when it's done and then come home to jerky so dry it makes the Sahara look like an ocean. Helllll no. So that'll have to wait til late tonight or possibly tomorrow. Probably tonight since I don't seem to sleep much anymore, anyways. Maybe I'm evolving?

Wouldn't it be cool if I evolved into some sort of terminator***? Or a Velociraptor** that could speak and had opposable* thumbs!

Anyways, once the meat is done I'll probably let you know. Sometime this year. What with my stellar update record and all.

*Spellcheck doesn't like opposable thumbs. Well I do, so fuck off spellcheck. Don't take my thumbs away from me.

**Apparently spellcheck also isn't fond of Velociraptors. Bit harder to argue that one I suppose, what with all the death and maiming and bad media coverage they've gotten. I suppose it's deserved. But I would be a kindly veloci- oh who am I kidding. I'd lay waste to so much shit it would be hilarious. It wouldn't start funny, but then I'd take it so far it became funny after all. Like those stupid fucking jokes Family Guy likes to beat into the ground, piss on, then prop up with a stick and jump start with a little petroleum jelly and some jumper cables. You know, the real heavy duty ones. Except I hate those Family Guy jokes and almost never find them funny at any point so ignore that last analogy, it's terrible.

*** I don't give a goddamn fuck about your "theories of evolution" bullshit, we are totally capable of evolving into Terminators and opposable thumbed Velociraptors who can talk. Sleep tight.

I Want To Suck Your Blood... And Possibly Commit Seppuku, Which, Isn't Nearly As Permanent When You're The Undead.

Two nights ago one of my dreams had something to do with feudal Japan and vampire samurai clans. One of the clans was waging a wipe-out* war on another clan. I was a human warrior in the losing clan.

The dream was all but forgotten until early that evening when Most Beloved and I were driving. Part of it suddenly popped into my mind. I jokingly told him I'd had a dream about vampire samurai in a feudal Japan-like place. We chuckled over it and I figured that was the end of it. I was wrong. The damn thing continued to nag at me most insistently. Finally I turned to Most Beloved as we were driving and said, "Would you like to hear this story idea I have. It won't leave me alone. "

"Ok." Most beloved replied.

"Ok, but you can't laugh." which he promptly did because who doesn't laugh as soon as you go all puppy dog eyes on them and tell them they can't. :) "No I'm serious, it's super fledgling and it's from a dream so it probably sucks worse than a four dollar whore. If it does suck ass just clear your throat and suggest maybe my energy would be spent on other things."

"I promise." He said.

So I proceeded to tell him my idea while we drove to the bulk Barn (which is an amazing, wonderful, delectable place full of much goodness and thank God they have them in this God foresaken, hell hole of a province. Edmonton is truly shitsville.) We parked and I continued to talk while he continued to listen and not laugh. And talked. And talked.

"That is really cool. You made it sound silly earlier, but that's not silly at all." (Most Beloved is kinda awesome like that.)

Then hunger overtook us and we were forced to go in and get our baking foodstuffs before we both grabbed the nearest arm not attached to either of us and proceeded to gnaw.

Then I went home, scarfed some food down and proceeded to type out almost 7,000 words in less than 6 hours. I think I went to bed around 4. I'm kinda tired today, but happy. Really, really happy. It's a good idea and, without trying to sound like an arrogant ass, it's super cool.

Both the world building and intricate social structure are insanely complex, but they've been flowing out of me onto the page. I have the first 1/3rd or so completely mapped out. The middle and ending require a clever surprise I can't remember now so they'll have to wait til either I can remember or come up with something new, but I could see (once that happens) the rest mapping out pretty quickly and easily. I don't know that I'll be able to write it anytime soon, got my hands full all ready with my other story. But I think I have enough down that I'll be able to re-immerse myself in it once the time comes.

On a somewhat related note, I've pretty clearly found one of my "writer themes." You know, those things each writer feels compelled to explore. Frequently more than once and in more than one way. One of mine (loosely explained) has to do with the idea of "the Other." The definition of Other kept deliberately vague because the notion of the other really is as fluid as that. Oh, sure, common definings of what constitutes "the other" exist in every culture, but I find that individual and small collective definings can further range from "Other as anyone different from you" (colour, culture, race, sexual orientation) to "that part of ourselves every person either fears, hates or hides." Jung's concept of the Shadow and all that being one such example. Again, these are loose definitions and I'm sure there are many more of them kicking around.

I like looking at that. I don't just like looking at it, I like strapping supernatural booties on it and forcing it to go run around the block for me a few times. And could it please, since it's up and all anyways, maybe go hangout in the 360 degree mirror Stacey and Clinton like to trot out so much? Just for a bit.

Goddamn that got serious eh? No worries, tomorrow will be all about my trials and tribulations with making beef jerky with our new DEHYDRATOR!

*Nothing to do with surfing, but this is me so thinking it might is perfectly reasonable and therefore requiring the clarifications. Ok 1 clarification. Except now it is 2 because I just clarified the clarification. You're welcome.

Things You Might Hear

Things you might hear while standing in line next to me:

“...and that's why I don't winter camp. Out in the middle of nowhere, freezing your ass off, next thing you know you've gone and eaten your tentmate and now your a Wendigo and no good ever comes of that.”

Also, still sick. Sick! Still!! 16 days of sick. I've had quite enough of that, thank you.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

Why do they call it a super flue anyways? There's nothing super about it. I feel like shit that's been regurgitated and run through a blender. Now, if it wrote my novel for me, cleaned my kitchen and scrubbed my back in those hard-to-reach places, I could see the reasoning behind that particular adjective.

Super. Pfft.

Whoops, forgot to mention I'm on a gluten free diet right now didn't I*

You know what I'm tired of? Failing at baking. Fuck baking. Fuck the frustrating, time consuming process of trying to bake with odd, gluten free flours with strange properties and stranger recipe conversions that never seem to work right.

I am the Sith Lord Queen of Failbake and I am fucking tired of it.

Dons her helmet and ignites her eeeevil light saber (shouldn't it be a dark saber since I'm all bad and shit?) and prepares to wade back into the kitchen fray. My light/dark saber is red. Red for the blood and sweat I have shed in my battle to be able to eat baked goods again. Red for the ingredients, piled like viscera at my feet, spilled and wasted in the name of healthy eating.

*Trying to be, anyways. Kinda hard when you can't actually make anything edible!! I mean, I keep trying and it keeps not turning out right, or even salvageable and now I've wasted god only knows how many dollars and pounds of ingredients. Not to mention time and patience. God help the asshole who tries to sing that GnR song at me right now!

Incentive!

Incentive is sitting next to the corpse you can't dispose of until you've met your word count for the day.


I had the incredible urge to add the "this shit only happens to me" label to this post and wait to see how long it took anyone to notice that and say something. Then I remembered the fear-world we live in and decided I didn't need cops busting down my door, pepper-spraying me in the face and taze-ing the shit out of me over a joke.

Much To My Dismay

The sneezing, coughing and nose blowing are so violent I've gone and thrown a rib out of place. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?

Not a cure for the flu

Insomnia is killing my ability to recover from this godawful super flu. The nonstop coughing isn't helping either. :(

PLEEEEEASE!

Please let me get into the STEAMPUNK course at school.

That is all!

Sick

So sick.

Flying is Hard Work

In my dream I'm batman, except I can fly by flapping my arms like a bird. Which I am doing, vigorously, as I try to gain enough altitude to clear the building in front of me.

Here is my internal monologue while doing so: Batman would catch more criminals if he didn't have to flap his damn arms so much. Flying is fatiguing.

Wherein we learn how long our heroine can go without sleep

60 hours. Beating my previous record of 42-46 hours without sleep by a significant margin. Still recovering. Think I spent 24 of that moving myself and others. And driving. Lots and lots of driving. I am remarkably resilient when it comes to hallucinations because I think I only hallucinated once and it was a tiny thing, really.

It was a crazy, occasionally surreal few days, but all my stuff is in storage, including car (which I miss), and I am currently back in Alberta for a shortish stay. Going to take this time to get my eating habits back under control and my exercising back on schedule as I have missed both of these things. And to write. And enjoy the fact that I am no longer essentially a prisoner in my own home.

In theory I will head back at some point for a short term IT project before moving on to new city and University. Drove down and visited said establishment. They have a punching bag in the gym. A punching bag! Weeee.

This time I will be getting a bachelor pad. Possibly, possibly a 2 bedroom and 1, 1 roommate, because it is significantly cheaper to share a 2 bedroom, but I would prefer something by myself.

Already the severe allergic reaction I was having to something in old place is starting to ease down a bit. But my histamines and immune system are so rundown that it will probably take months of effort and care to build it back up.

Looking forward to being able to write again. I can't wait. :)

You Can Tell That I'm Busy...

...By how much I procrastinate. Hence this post. Well, that and because I found a quote. I'm glad I found it now. Most definitely worth passing on.

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit.

"Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”

– Ira Glass

Ira Glass is the host and producer of This American Life. Click here for the full original video (runtime 5:20).

SQUEE! Wherein I Tell You Good Things About Myself

Got Final portfolio and marks back for script class.
B+/A- on final script. A- overall grade!
Considering the year I've had and the crazy, crazy non-stop problems, I am very happy with this.

Also got some awesome praise from teacher (not an easy woman to please.) She said my script was very funny! She said I have a really good instinct for comedy, when to back a joke off and when to push it farther. SQUEEEE! She said that I should definitely write more comedy and get my work out there! She said she'd like to see it when it's finished. She also hoped I'd try my hand at theatre again as she liked the way I use visuals in it. She is not just blowing sunshine up my ass. :)

She said more, but I'm too happy to remember it all. Which is good, because I definitely bombed my English Lit exam and possibly the course. Not bombed as in failed (god, I hope I didn't fail the course. I definitely did shit on the exam.), but bombed as in, I'll be happy to have passed this one.

I think I'm sitting good on psych, I did better on my final exam than I thought I would, but not as well as I wanted to and my otherwise stellar mark for that course took a hit from it. Instead of an A/A+, I probably got dropped down to a B of some sort, probably low. Which fucks my GPA up even further (and it was such a pretty GPA too) and irritates me to no end. Booo. Grrr.

Still, barring Lit class I should be sitting at all As and Bs of some sort. And I am trying to be happy with that and put it into proper context. This year really was hell. Every aspect of life got pounded and upturned and fucked around basically nonstop (none of which I put up here cause lets face it, no one likes to read that shit). So, to pull those kinds of marks off despite that, despite the frequent crushing loneliness of not having my lifemate here, despite the learning issues, despite working, fuck yea, I'll take my victory.

Also

I wrote something, lost part of it and can't remember what the rest of it was about. For your amusement you get a snippet of something to do with daily life.

Pretty sure I shouldn't be driving in that state, but, oh well, not like the magic driving fairy is gonna take me.

Oh that's right, I'm supposed to be finishing the new look

Oh my sweet jesus I get to sleep in tomorrow! Perhaps it is a dream?

No, it can't be a dream I'm not:

Staring at my own eyes, which happen to be completely black, and lookin' kinda cool if I say so myself,

Trying to understand the doctor with the terrific-ly bad mumbling problem whose supposed to be looking after me,

Wandering a hospital trying to find a bathroom that doesn't contain visible evidence of someone else's disease all over it,

Lost in the hospital now and unable to find my doctor,

In a scary haunted house with some sort of ultra creepy, demonic witch-woman thing and a bunch of to-stupid-to-live canon fodder

Ch- ch- ch- ch- Changes

Blog undergoing revamp, might be messy for a bit.

W. T. F.

If you want me to do you a favor, it probably shouldn’t involve me MISSING MY FINAL FUCKING EXAM OR THE STUDY TIME LEADING UP TO IT. It probably also shouldn’t involve me RUNNING OVER HELL’S HALF FUCKING ACRES FOR SHIT YOU SHOULD BE DOING BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN FUCKING STUPIDITY. For shizzle.

Now, admittedly, I am a sickly, brain-fogged, frighteningly sleep deprived person, but I’m also pretty goddamn sure it’s illegal to FLIP INTO THE LEFT HAND TURNING LANE to make a RIGHT HAND TURN AROUND MY VEHICLE which is STOPPED AT A VERY RED LIGHT. But I am sickly and sleep-deprived so who knows, maybe they have, in fact, changed basic driving laws.

Amazing. I’ve been up for less than two hours and all ready this is what I’ve had to deal with.

Can Stop Now.

Life has been piling the shit on me lately. The pit is deep. The shovel doing the piling is large.

Finally realized exhaustion is from nasty, nasty mold problem I've been fighting (in my house) without even knowing it.
Losing battle.
As in, I can't get rid of it (think it's not just in my room), and symptoms getting worse and worse. Need to move, but everything's so up in the air I don't know if I should be looking for somewhere here or Nanaimo where I'll be attending school come Sept.(assuming the strike ever ends...) Exhaustion, memory problems and other severe allergic reactions I'm having are making this last push on finals and projects crazy hard. It's like waking up to slow asphyxiation every fucking morning with my face swollen and sinus/breathing passages all swollen, blocked and tender.

Can't plan summer at all. Not even one tiny bit. Not helping.

This has been one hell of a fucking year so far. Even since July*. Trying to stay positive, but I'm worn down and beyond tired. Which I keep saying, because it's true, but because I keep dragging along the ground people keep dismissing it. Maybe I should collapse?

I am more than ready for things to 180 on me and get awesome. MORE THAN READY.

I feel bad. I've posted virtually nothing funny as of late. Hopefully soon.

* Edited because I am tired and it took me a few days to realize that the last few months of old job in old province were equally hellish, just in different ways. Worse ways because I wasn't doing what I loved.

Title? Brain? Huzzwha?

Boy howdy I loves me the smart people who don't take the fucking time to READ, READ GODDAMN YOU ILLITERATE HOBO-FUCKERS!

Shhhhh we're not going to point out the incongruity of telling illiterate's to read. I am exhausted and teh funnehs is hard atm.