Still Alive

There's not much going on right now, to be honest. I should have my editorial notes next week, which will help. I've mostly been dealing with lupus-or-whatever; it's affecting my fingers right now, which makes typing difficult. When I can finally get my hands on a digital voice recorder, things should improve--write now, transcribe later.

I've got a family reunion coming up in a couple of months. I suspect that being around a gaggle of second cousins I've never met, but who possibly all act exactly like every other member of my dad's family, will result in a few story ideas. Never mind that the reunion is taking place in a small town in southwest Oklahoma. I'm a little surprised we're not staging a raid on the state capitol to take back a piece of crocheted lace my grandmother made, and which is now a permanent fixture in the state gallery. Then, given that side of the family, half a dozen engineers and a case of beer will get together, and it'll probably deteriorate into madness.

Fortunately, I like madness.

The Import wants to go to Best Buy, so I'm going to point out restaurants on the way to see if I can get out of cooking. Can someone please give him a taste for Chinese food? I'm dying for a hit of eggplant and tofu in garlic sauce.

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.

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!

*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.