Rrgh.

So I've probably got until next week before my editing notes arrive. Contrary to what my recent posts may indicate, I'm chomping at the bit to get the series beaten into shape. Tonight, I finally got 'round to watching Sweeney Todd, and I had a hard time concentrating because I kept comparing it to my own work--in very vague terms, mind. Keeping kosher isn't just a good idea in my series, it's the law, and selling Mrs. Lovett's Special Pies to an unsuspecting public would earn one a short rope and a long fall.

In the meantime, the English Import has a few days off work, so I'm going to spend some time with him. In other plans, I need to make another stab at the house, especially the kitchen and living room (and the laundry, ugh). Need to switch to my new computer, which has been sitting in the living room for over a week now 'cause I'm a moron. And I need to re-edit two stories I sent through the slush forum over at Baen's Bar. Good feedback on both, but one needs a little work and the other, quite expectedly, needs a metric buttload of revision. Ah, well. Even if I don't get it finished this week, I will later.

And the Import and I are totally going to see Iron Man on Friday because we're huge geeks. Hell, I worked in a comic shop for nearly two years. Wouldn't mind going back to it for a little while if there were one within a couple of miles of my house. Alas, as there isn't, I shall have to find other things to fill my time. Like, y'know, writing.

It's very late, and I'm reading S. M. Peters's Whitechapel Gods. I'd like to get another couple of chapters in tonight. I swear, this book was written just for me: steampunk microbiology (microgadgetry?), Victorian London, and odd and terrifying rulers. Just add angels, and it might as well be a part of my flesh and blood. (Note to self: find and re-read Cameron Rogers's The Music of Razors.)

I really ought to start keeping a list here of what I'm reading. For the record, I just finished Deborah LeBlanc's Morbid Curiosity. She's a really neat lady, incredibly nice, and has a writing and storytelling style similar to Richard Laymon (R.I.P.). An enjoyable, tense read. Dorchester really puts out some awesome stuff.

Victory is mine!

My kitchen is not only clean, but almost fully organised! Of course, this means that I'm still waiting for my editing notes, but if it takes a few more days, I'll have the whole house beaten into shape.

Must go in a minute. Meeting a friend for lunch. Knitting (and possibly baking) this weekend for another friend, who's sick. Now where did I put that quick-and-easy sock pattern?

MADE OF AWESOME

Dude, my parents bought me a new bike! I was going to get my old one tuned up and re-tyred, but it turns out that I've grown since I was 12 and the frame was too small. I now have a 2007-model Serona Giant hybrid bike in maroon and grey. Nearly had one wipeout already, and I was chased up the street by a small dog. Don't care. I have a mode of transport that doesn't cost $3.19 a gallon and rising. It's efficient enough to take me to the grocery store, Walgreens, the convenience store, the bowling alley, the craft store, some clothing stores, an awesome bookstore where I'd like to work, a Sonic, and a bunch of other places.

Now I just need some stamina, a bike lock, and a suitable backpack to carry my shopping.

Let's hear it for cheap transportation!

Blah.

Long story.

Must sleep now.

*SNARL*

Dear Lane Bryant,

You win at SUCK. How dare you post a 30% off sale, then not include the Right Fit trousers that I can actually wear? You try buying jeans with a 38" waist and 52" hips. I'm a freak of nature and proud of it, but I'd also like to NOT have to spend full price every waking moment just to keep my damn trou from sliding down my butt. Send me a coupon or something, mmkay? One that will let me get clothes that fit.

Oh, and stock some black jeans, wouldya? Some of us never quite outgrew our goth periods.

No love right now,

Me

PS, GIVE ME JEANS OMG MINE ARE SLIDING ALL THE WAY DOWN MY HIPS! NEED FRESH TROU!

Still alive.

Still awaiting agent notes, so I've been working on short stories, knitting and crocheting, planning to sell some things on Etsy, and GETTING FABULOUSLY DRUNK ON LYRICA. No, seriously. My doctor doesn't want me spending the whole summer on steroids, so he gave me this stuff for neuropathic pain, and OMFG I WOKE UP DRUNK! My entire first day on the stuff, I couldn't get out of my chair because every time I tried... well, we almost needed a new TV, let's put it that way.

So now I'm on half the recommended starting dose. Apparently, I'm a great, big wuss.

Crowley is a very sweet cat, but he's also stinky and Machiavellian. He tried to show dominance by fouling the community water supply. Doing all I can to show that he's actually on the bottom rung--Baby's at the top--but he's very, er, independent. Also? Gorgeous. Think blue-eyed Turkish Van with class 9 piebald colouration. Not quite up to breed standards (we think he was dumped by a backyard breeder), but more than up to love-and-snuggles standards.

I'm ready to buy stock, however, in an enzymatic cleaner company. *holds nose*

Win!

Cats are slowly adapting to each other, and I've almost stopped freaking out when Crowley, who looks like a ghost cat (seriously, he's that white), goes padding around in low light. Baby has almost forgiven Mommy, and I think I might get some snuggles tonight.

Blah. Still waiting on revision notes--getting impatient, here--so I've been knitting and crocheting. Have come up with a nifty way to make money on Etsy, too, so that might be an option for future. Hands are killing me. Talking to the rheumatologist about this on Monday.

Have edited and re-submitted a story I'm quite fond of. It's very Ray Bradbury-esque, though definitely written by me. Keeping my fingers crossed on the submission, as the market is kind of a long shot for SF this hard.

Sleep now.

And Charlton Heston is dead.

Remind me never to be between jobs again.

Yesterday, I was supposed to clean up the kitchen. Instead, I spent the whole day with my parents' fax machine, calling back and forth between my doctor's office and the state unemployment office. My doc's office sent everything they needed to in order to show that my old job was really, genuinely damaging me... and the state refused it because it bore a signature statement rather than a physical signature. *sigh* Fortunately, it's all straightened out now.

Today, as I am still awaiting revision notes (and twitching not to just use my own occasionally faulty judgement and dive straight in), I have to clean house. I also have to get a second litter box. Do I go to Waldemart and spend four bucks, or Southern Ag and spend seven? (We get HUGE litter boxes. Baby is 14 pounds, Aldous is 20, and Crowley's going to be comparable once we get him fattened up.) Eh, Southern Ag has the canned food Baby and Aldous like, so I might just go there. Support local business and all that good stuff.

On the job front, at the end of summer, the completely awesome bookstore a mile from my house will be hiring, and I think I've got a good chance of getting in at 20-30 hours a week, including weekends. I won't get to see the Import as much as I'd like, but the shop's hours are VERY reasonable, and I'd be happy working there, which is a huge improvement over what I'm coming from. Hence, unless something utterly amazing comes along, I think I'll just work on edits this summer, get the house whipped into shape, and recuperate from a very prolonged and stressful situation.

In short, I'm blogging when I should be vacuuming. Or something. Eh, I'll figure it out.