Happy Easter!
Apr. 17th, 2006 12:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
abracanabraHappy Easter! Celebrate the rebirth of the year, and leave behind your sins of the past....
There's a pleasurable condescension inherent in reading travel articles. "Tourists are advised to..." "Tourists may enjoy...." Securely above the awkward cultural negotiations involved in being a tourist.
Tourists in Jerusalem rent crosses and carry them around? Yikes. I'm not talking about a small crucifix either. I'm talking an eight-footer.
This...sounds kind of hot. Hard-boiled sex writing contest--http://www.desdmona.com/contestsubmit.php Desdmona has the best erotica contests.
Just putzing around this morning...reading a backlog of email, fooling around in photoshop to make some new desktop backgrounds from the Topolino photographs...a nice slow start. In half-an-hour, I'll kick myself in the ass and start with the writing again.
Aw! Cutest thing ever! The Muse just brought me a little tea-plate of mini Ritz cracker BLTs, two crackers bracketing a piece of bacon, a wedge of tomato, and a wisp of lettuce. Such an adorable thing to do! Then he scampered away down the stairs when I tried to give him a thank-you kiss. Such a strange creature, he is.
Oops. With the windows open and kids next door, perhaps I should not growl, "Bitch whore writing!!" quite so loudly.
It shouldn't be this hard to figure out how to have a car run out of gas! Jeez. Sticking safety pins through my skin would be less painful.
One of the most annoying parts of writing has to be the figuring out something that will strengthen the story--and then having to go back and figure out the best place to put in the previous details that back it up.
I may start scattering tiny yo-yos wherever I go. It's the only way I can see to be *rid* of the things. I can't bring myself to just throw out something that may have a use. Somewhere. To someone.
Bad Minesweeper! Evil!
My shredding pile always builds up until I start writing again. Then I start shredding like crazy whenever I'm trying to figure out how to phrase the next sentence. It doesn't take long for me to catch up.
And finally I meet my desired minimum rate of 500 wds/45 min.
I just got thanked for my use of "temporal capital!"
I don't know why, but I've been procrastinating like crazy about sending Vicesteed out to this one Critters critiquer. That's done now. 'Bout time, too!
Bass-booming vehicle--prepare to dieeeeeeee!!! Or to be keyed viciously, if I find out who you are (should be difficult, as I am resolutely not looking). We'll see what it thinks about some Crowbar (translation: we'll see if playing Crowbar drowns it out).
One of the ways I find out about new spec-fic markets is by reading the Critters Woo-hoo page. People post when they get something published. I am always very happy when they include the link to the guidelines....
People who think that their lives aren't interesting are wrong. They just aren't looking at it in the right way. It's all about the spin. (Note: I am not claiming to be extra interesting or a spinmeister. For one thing, master spinmeisters make more money than I do.)
Yes, it is my diabolical plan to slowly throw away all of the Muse's clothing until he is left pantsless and vulnerable to my every whim. It has nothing to do with the huge, gaping holes in his clothing.
The "What About Brian?" premier comes on the TV: "Ohmigod! It's 'What About Brian?'! Where's the remote?!" "It's not here with the others! I don't see it!" "Agggghhhh!" "For the love of God, where is the remote!?"
Hilarious recipe for "Bread Sandwich" from "Please Feed Me: a punk vegan cookbook":
I am amused that the spellchecker doesn't recognize 'vegan'.
Well, I *almost* got enough userpics to cap out.
There's a pleasurable condescension inherent in reading travel articles. "Tourists are advised to..." "Tourists may enjoy...." Securely above the awkward cultural negotiations involved in being a tourist.
Tourists in Jerusalem rent crosses and carry them around? Yikes. I'm not talking about a small crucifix either. I'm talking an eight-footer.
This...sounds kind of hot. Hard-boiled sex writing contest--http://www.desdmona.com/contestsubmit.php Desdmona has the best erotica contests.
Just putzing around this morning...reading a backlog of email, fooling around in photoshop to make some new desktop backgrounds from the Topolino photographs...a nice slow start. In half-an-hour, I'll kick myself in the ass and start with the writing again.
Aw! Cutest thing ever! The Muse just brought me a little tea-plate of mini Ritz cracker BLTs, two crackers bracketing a piece of bacon, a wedge of tomato, and a wisp of lettuce. Such an adorable thing to do! Then he scampered away down the stairs when I tried to give him a thank-you kiss. Such a strange creature, he is.
Oops. With the windows open and kids next door, perhaps I should not growl, "Bitch whore writing!!" quite so loudly.
It shouldn't be this hard to figure out how to have a car run out of gas! Jeez. Sticking safety pins through my skin would be less painful.
One of the most annoying parts of writing has to be the figuring out something that will strengthen the story--and then having to go back and figure out the best place to put in the previous details that back it up.
I may start scattering tiny yo-yos wherever I go. It's the only way I can see to be *rid* of the things. I can't bring myself to just throw out something that may have a use. Somewhere. To someone.
Bad Minesweeper! Evil!
My shredding pile always builds up until I start writing again. Then I start shredding like crazy whenever I'm trying to figure out how to phrase the next sentence. It doesn't take long for me to catch up.
And finally I meet my desired minimum rate of 500 wds/45 min.
I just got thanked for my use of "temporal capital!"
I don't know why, but I've been procrastinating like crazy about sending Vicesteed out to this one Critters critiquer. That's done now. 'Bout time, too!
Bass-booming vehicle--prepare to dieeeeeeee!!! Or to be keyed viciously, if I find out who you are (should be difficult, as I am resolutely not looking). We'll see what it thinks about some Crowbar (translation: we'll see if playing Crowbar drowns it out).
One of the ways I find out about new spec-fic markets is by reading the Critters Woo-hoo page. People post when they get something published. I am always very happy when they include the link to the guidelines....
People who think that their lives aren't interesting are wrong. They just aren't looking at it in the right way. It's all about the spin. (Note: I am not claiming to be extra interesting or a spinmeister. For one thing, master spinmeisters make more money than I do.)
Yes, it is my diabolical plan to slowly throw away all of the Muse's clothing until he is left pantsless and vulnerable to my every whim. It has nothing to do with the huge, gaping holes in his clothing.
The "What About Brian?" premier comes on the TV: "Ohmigod! It's 'What About Brian?'! Where's the remote?!" "It's not here with the others! I don't see it!" "Agggghhhh!" "For the love of God, where is the remote!?"
Hilarious recipe for "Bread Sandwich" from "Please Feed Me: a punk vegan cookbook":
Ingredients
* One fine selection of one singular type of bread
* A carefully chosen knife. If you choose your bread carefully, you may be able to discard this "ingredient." I am told certain bakers will slice your bread into similarly sized "slices." These "slices" can be obtained from most food-shops in the form of a "pan."
Preparation
1. Get bread.
2. Hold bread firmly with left hand.
3. Make three incisions in bread with knife, until three similarly sized slices emerge from bread.
4. Place "slices" of bread atop one another such that you have a nice sandwich.
5. Eat.
I am amused that the spellchecker doesn't recognize 'vegan'.
Well, I *almost* got enough userpics to cap out.