Do I hope you'll read my book? Absolutely!
Do I hope that you'll tell other people about my book? Nothing would make me happier! I will totally give you a cookie if you tell someone about my book. In fact, if you make a blog post about it, or mention it on Facebook or Twitter, I'll send you a thank you. (And maybe some swag, if I have/you give me your address.)
Will I be offended if you don't want to read my book, or you do read it, and don't like it? Nope.
As my friend, are you required to read it? Hell no. I would never ask that someone who wasn't interested read it. What would be the point?
My frequent mentions of my published works are because honestly, this is literally my dream come true. I'm proud of my writing, and this whole crazy publishing train is probably one of the coolest things that's ever happened to me. I want to share that with my friends, just like I've shared all the other great (and not-so-great) stuff that's happened to me over the past years of this journal. It's not meant to make anyone feel guilty about not wanting to read them, or because they tried them and didn't like them. I appreciate the support of ALL my friends, even if my work isn't their cup of tea.
So I thought I'd mention that, just to clear up any potential misunderstanding.
And now, I'm off to be eaten by jellyfish in the Chesapeake Bay. Have a great weekend!
Do I hope you'll read my book? Absolutely!
I've also re-read jjtaylor's story, Buy Handmade 5 times in the past week. I'm not kidding. I think that story is magical. It reminds me that creating something is more than just its own reward. When you create something, you are creating yourself with it.
I am creating myself again. Some days, it feels like from the ground up. Others, from spare parts. But always trying for better.
So THAT was fun.
Dad is scheduled for surgery this week, and then the tumor goes to the pathologist. Sending good vibes his way.
Gram is breathing easier for the time being, though still on oxygen. She gets tired easily, and runs out of breath fast, so I call every day for a few minutes and check in. That reminds me, it's time to send some new flowers. The hospice chaplain talked her into having a celebration of her life, rather than a memorial service, so last Saturday all of her friends and all my family got together and had a little goodbye party in her honour. I couldn't attend- for one thing, it was a day's notice, for another, I was sick, and I feel like we spent our time together when I was there in November. My Gram has always inspired me, and I'm going to miss her so much, but we're square. The leavetaking isn't as important to either of us as the time we've spent together, and as much as I wish I could fly out and keep her here just because I want her to stay, I know that's not going to work.
I came back to veritable mountains of work, and I should be doing it now, but then I remembered that I have an LJ.
I know I have missed a lot of things going on with other folks, and I'm sorry about that. All I can plead is a lack of spoons.
I haven't sent thank you notes for my gifts this year. I suck. Let this serve as a placeholder- THANK YOU! OMG, you guys, you spoil me utterly. It may be tacky, but I think I'm going to send ecards, because it's about the amount of energy I can devote at the moment. I am truly appreciative of the presents, and as always- mine are going to be late. I have them! They are wrapped! I just haven't SENT them.
I still feel like 2011 is trying to steamroll me.
I slept last night, largely due to being totally spent after not sleeping well on Friday night, going for an unexpectedly long nature walk on Saturday, and being so filled with misplaced emotion on Saturday night that I was vibrating, and couldn't even lose myself in someone else's head. (I have a lot of heads to choose from, lately. So many that I worry that I'm not getting into all of them properly.) But last night I slept, and I dreamed about trees and psychics in spaceships (not psychic spaceships), and I woke up on time for a change and didn't have to rush through brushing my teeth.
Time to pop out somewhere to write, or unwind with a little pineapple and muuuurder. We'll figure out which in a few minutes, I guess!
I am running low on patience and spoons. Michelle's family is going through something rough right now, and that's eating up a lot of worry. The world at large is a puzzling, hurtful place, and I'm so fucking sick of TALKING about it, and feeling utterly powerless and overwhelmed. It's not that I don't have the intellectual capacity for social debate, it's that I lack the emotional distance, or barring that, the emotional STAMINA.
I think I finally understand what the HELL my main character is doing, and can proceed accordingly. Well, I understand what ONE of them is doing. The other two are easier to follow along with, since they don't feel the compulsive need to lie when the truth would fit better. I got to share writing I'm proud of with my best friend, which I haven't done in... lots of years, anyway. So that was cool.
Supernatural continues to try and break my fucking heart every week. Glee continues to be a shiny ball of crack, now available in office-ready travel packs! (We had an office Glee and Pizza party on Wednesday. It was the Power of Madonna, people! It compelled us!) Psych is easily the most ridiculous show I've ever seen, and I love every stupid second of it. Only two and a half more seasons before we're caught up! Waaaah!
That's about it. Oh wait, I got a promotion! And a raise! Yay!
( Saturday )
( String Theory Fiber Arts- Now available at Pocket Meadow Farm! )
( Sunday )
So yeah, amazing. I still feel so relaxed. And hey, did I mention how MY FIBER IS GOING TO BE IN A STORE?!?!?
(You may not have my marigot. Get your own.)
I am not taking a week and a half off from the internet, because SERIOUSLY, have you MET me? That would so not work. I'll be available by email, chat, twitter, etc. If there's anything urgent, let me know! (I'm not turning comments off or anything.)
So, not a flounce, honest! *grin* Just need a vacation for a little while to get my shit together.
See you in August!
I am completely overwhelmed. By work, by everything I think I need to get done, everything I think I'm forgetting, by obligations, real and imagined. I'm completely lost, I am never ever going to answer the million emails and comments that I mean to. (I ALWAYS read them. I ALWAYS -mean- to answer right away.)
I don't know where to begin, or where to stop. I need to dye things, but before I can dye things, I need to clean the space that I dye things IN. Before friends come next weekend, I need to finish...what? I don't even KNOW. There is no perfect, but is it good enough? I don't know. I do know that my ice cream maker is broken, and I have no milk, and my hair is doing that fucked up summer THING where it's smooth and shiny for about 20 minutes before it becomes a total rats nest, or goes all limp and goopy.
I'm tired and jumpy, and feeling flaily, and I don't know what to do first, so instead I just keep reading New!Trek fic. Because...well, honestly, because Zachary Quinto is hot like burning, and Chris Pine has EYE CRINKLES WHEN HE SMILES, and I've seen the damn movie three times now, and I am shallow.
It's not as bad as it feels. I have been working non-stop on my weekends for the past month, and I can see huge changes, but...I don't know. I feel like I'm missing something, no matter what, and unfortunately, I'm not in the right headspace to just not CARE right now.
So yeah. Tomorrow- Trek fic (DAMN YOU, QUINTO!), Fall Out Boy, way too loud (DAMN YOU, WENTZ!), and waaaaay too much work. (DAMN YOU, INTERNS!)
- Any body product with sparkle or glitter in it. (Witness my bathroom full of Lush products, and my internal debate the last time I was there. "The scent isn't doing it for me, but it SPARKLES!")
- My iPhone. I am not a Mac person by nature, and I snorted and scoffed and secretly thought all the VRY IMPRTNT PPL with iPhones were big poser dorks...but I fucking love this little thing, it never leaves my side, and I have no idea how I got by without it before. (And we'll ignore the fact that I have now spent over 34 hours of my life playing Bejewelled. Since JANUARY.)
- The OC. Still. I could watch Seth and Ryan and their epic bromance for ages and be quite happy.
- VH1's "I Love the 70's/80's/90's" series. Again, I could watch this ALL DAY. And have.
- Doucherock. I tried to laugh at first, and be all "Oh, you know, it's EPICALLY DORKY", but honestly, I just love the music. Judge me if you want, but I'm clearly not going to hear you, since I will be bouncing along to the pop punk strains of someone's nervous breakdown.
- Hershey's chocolate. It's NOT good chocolate. I KNOW it's not good chocolate. But it's my favourite kind of candy.
So what about you?
"Cutesy" site navigation on fanfic archives. Particularly challenge archives. While I think it's lovely that you've based your challenge on the colours of the rainbow/tarot cards/Austrian drinking games, I do wish that you would notice that the people who you want to READ these wonderful stories can't even figure out which ones are going to appeal to them, because you've given them no flipping summary.
SERIOUSLY. Be cute, be themed, be whatever, but BE USEFUL AND EASY TO NAVIGATE.
In other news, I catalogued my Basket'O'Shame last night, and there were projects in there that I didn't even remember. Whoops. And of course, the ones I'd be most inclined to frog are all mohair projects, and they regard my petty attempts to unravel them with scorn. I have been told that I might be able to talk them into it by freezing them, so we'll give that a whirl.
My reward, both for dealing with the Basket'O'Shame and for getting a stellar performance review, is going to be knitting this sweater:
In a rather terrifying move, I've ordered some undyed cashmere yarn from Colourmart, and I'm going to dye it up in my Grackle colourway to use for the sweater:
Things are going. Many good things loom on the horizon for me. Publication on Monday(!!!!!!!!!!!!), BowerCon DC in June, Indy trip in June, Sheep and Wool in May (anyone interested in attending, I have a spare guest room and a large vehicle available), and this weekend, carpet in the basement and another attempt to wrestle my library into submission. And gardening! And biking!
Life is pretty damn good.
Sadly, this icing was tasty, but has a totally disgusting consistency, the recipe was completely off the mark in terms of measurements (kind of, I don't know, the POINT of a recipe?), and despite my very best efforts, remained thin, useless, and roughly the viscosity of snot. So naturally, I popped some purple food colour in that crap and smeared it on the spice cupcakes I made for work, and if they don't like drippy icing on their free and unprompted cupcakes, they can just not have any. (Side note: sskipstress, there will be spice cupcakes with ridiculously drippy lemon cream cheese icing tomorrow.)
Edits should be done before I go to lunch tomorrow. I am pondering taking tiiiiiny computer so I can write at lunch, but maybe I'll just read more Dean/Castiel slash, because apparently boinking angels is every bit as amusing to me as boinking your brother.
Last weekend, I sent my wee little car in for a lovely oil change. I did right by it- synthetic oil, new (Rain-X!) windshield wipers. I was feeling pleased with myself and my continued excellence in preventative maintenance when I rolled out of the parking lot.
Now, I hit the first bump, and thought, "Good gods, that was bouncy." Then I hit the second, and wondered if I was somehow imagining it, wrote it off to the absolutely terrible condition of Braddock Road, and possibly over inflated tires. Bounce bounce bounce, all the way home. Then all the way up the street to the in-laws house to borrow a spare bowl for the ice cream maker (note to self: return bowl), and even Stanley noticed, so it wasn't just me.
I didn't go anywhere on Monday, and then yesterday when I came in to work, I bounced myself down the onramp to 395 and finally accepted that something was deeply, deeply wrong in the world of my suspension. I was going to leave it till the weekend, but on my way home last night I drove over a random patch of ice and then hit a pothole, and it quite literally (and terrifyingly) bounced me out of my fucking lane.
So back to NTB we went, where it was determined that after 100,000 miles, being cranked up on the lift to have the oil changed was enough to have broken the strut on the front drivers side of the car. Hooray! Today, my damage comes to $500.98.
I hope these gods damned struts can wind yarn, because that was my automatic skeinwinder money.
Stupid (useful, long-lived, brand-new-engine-having) car (that I will be driving for the rest of my life).
You don't have to answer that.
I would very much like to NOT lie awake till 4 in the morning while my brain does the superfastswirlycan'tutrnoff thing anymore. 'kay?
- You can, in fact, get your feet tangled in your own yoga pants, fall up the stairs, and pop your big toe out of...well. it was at an angle that I've never seen it in before.
- It DOES worry me that suddenly my laptop is making loud "fan" noises all the time.
- You can also trip over the duvet while you are standing INSIDE the duvet cover, fall to one knee, and bash your OTHER big toe on the frame of your antique (and rather substantial) brass bed.
- Your cat is laughing at you. Just accept it.
- You get a lot less done when you are randomly dislocating and/or smashing body parts every five minutes, updating your LJ, and swearing loudly.
- I really wish I was sleeping at night.
Everything is WRONG, but at least my carpet looks great!
Operation: Try Not to Freak Because Bower People Are Seeing My House For the First Time
Operation: Dusting Everything I Own
Operation: Hiding All My "I Haven't Finished Sorting That!" Piles in the Closet
To be run in conjunction with-
Operation: Maybe I Should Have Vacuumed My Damn Floor
Operation: Flashing My Insecurities on LJ
Mission reports on all forthcoming.
(Aside- How come even though I got rid of 6 bags of clothing and BOXES of crap, I still have all this STUFF that I don't recognize or want? Gods, I will never finish the decluttering phase of my life, will I?)
It's always been a fear of mine that I am one of those people.