Words Are Hard

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Tag Archives: rambling

Hello I Have Opinions

NOTE: I’ve come to the conclusion that it feels sort of fake for me, one to whom verbal cursing comes naturally, to try and cover every f-bomb with something clever (that is very rarely actually clever) – and we’re all adults here, right?  Right.  I apologize if swearing offends you, but it’s starting to grate on me and this is my blog so bugger it.  Onwards!

I am convinced that the entire internet exists for no other reason than to make me uncomfortable while in the very same moment making me insanely jealous at everyone elses’ apparent expertise with social media.  Lookit me blog this!  And Facebook that!  And Instagram this!  And Twittertwittertwitter!

I still do not get Twitter.  Or Tumblr.  It’s frustrating but for me it’s like barging into a party like a clumsy ox where everybody knows everybody so now you stand around awkwardly going, “Um, hi?  Hello?  Will you be my friend please?  I make cookies!”

I do make cookies, by the way.  They are awesome.

This time of year is also a very uncomfortable year for me.  I grew up surrounded by pomp and circumstance (Catholic) and thus all the Season-y Greetings started to grate and nowadays I can’t stomach them for very long.  I’ve also developed some fairly strong opinions on things that tend to clash with the cheery feel-goods of the holiday season.

*Gets out soapbox.*

I’m an atheist and while I give zero fucks how many “Merry Christmas!”es I hear in a given season, it’s also very difficult for me to not launch into a tirade every time I hear things like “Remember the reason for the season!” while people are breaking down the doors at the nearest Target to get the new Barbie doll or whatever.

I do all my Christmas shopping online (yes, we do celebrate – with a TARDIS on top of the tree and everything!).

It’s also the season of bell ringers and it’s always very, very uncomfortable to walk by the box and not drop anything in.  I haven’t donated to the Salvation Army in years because while things may not be as bad as they seem, they are bad enough that there are better places to spend my donation money.

*Slides soapbox back under the bed*

So it’s a stressful time of the year for me for a bunch of different reasons.  November is usually a lot of fun, because NaNo, but this year I found myself stuck with hours and hours and hours of overtime.  I left work every morning and the last thing I wanted after 60 hours (6 days of 10 hour shifts) was to be responsible about something.  About halfway through the month I realized that writing was so far down the list of priorities for the month that winning NaNo was not going to happen.

And once I realized that, the pressure was off and winning NaNo did, in fact, happen.  Barely.

It was sort of a spotty month though.

This year NaNo taught me several things:

  1. I despise, with the passion of a thousand red belching heartburn plagued anthropomorphic volcanoes, writing in first person.
  2. It’s possible for me to hate my main character enough that I changed perspectives halfway through so I just didn’t have to deal with her.
  3. It’s my secret shame that I’m very rarely able to create a character who possesses a vagina that I don’t also immediately want to throttle.  I don’t know if this is some sort of subconscious self-loathing or what, but I suppose it’ll be something to work on.  Maybe if I shake them hard enough character development will start falling out.
  4. I really hate vampires.

But I still managed to make words on pages happen in large chunks during the very small amount of free-time I had.  That’s got to count for something, right?

So now it’s back to working on the book and some short stories and maybe if I grow a spine I’ll send some off and we’ll see what happens.

…And while I’m dreaming I’d like a pony…

P.S. No, you can’t have a pony. Or a moose. Or a mantis shrimp. Or a tardigrade. Or a crab. Keep trying though.

Aw. 😦

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Freedom!

I have completed the gauntlet that is the end of July and the beginning of August! A winner is me! My voice is cracking, and I’ve spent the majority of that time battling a migraine, but I managed to not call in and will have about 38 hours of overtime pay coming to me on Thursday. Now I have two glorious days off before heading back to my regular four days on. Once I get through those I have vacation! Twelve days, most of which will be spent in Stratford, Canada, watching the Stratford Shakespeare Company do their thing. And then it’s back to my normal four on, four off with however much overtime I want to pick up in between.

I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to it.

But today is my Friday! Which means I get to come home and transcribe the new Chapter One. I’m actually mostly happy with the way it turned out. It needs some tweaking, of course, but that I can do on the rebound. I also threw together a possible prologue, but I’m not sure if I’m going to use it as a prologue or a flashback, since it would work both ways. I am stupidly happy with how it turned out, so I may toss it out here to see how people react. We’ll see if I’m still happy about it when I get it transcribed into a computer.

The problem with working as much as I have is handwriting things. When I’m up, the words don’t wait for me to get home to a keyboard I can actually use for the Project. As a result, my wrist is a bit sore. Oddly enough, my throat isn’t sore, I’m just losing my voice. That should make the raid tomorrow night interesting (I can raid!).

But first things first: Sleep. I haven’t gotten as much of that as I’ve wanted to the past couple weeks. And tonight? Real, honest to goodness, cooked food. Nom.

Oh, and guess what I found on sale at Walgreens last night?

It works! And it cost less than half what I was expecting to pay for it!

Considering it’s a cheep knockoff brand, I don’t expect it to last long, but hey – it works for now so I’ll take it.  This is my cheap “Congrats on nearly working yourself to death” present to myself.  My more expensive “Congrats on nearly working yourself to death” present will happen when PayPal gets off its duff and finishes recognizing that money exists.

Life Is Sorta Funny

I’m trying very hard to stop flaking on this writing thing, but it’s sorta difficult.  Apart from making snarky posts about my work-life, what have I been up to?

Not a whole heck of a lot, really.  I mean, I’ve been working.  Yours truly is now a supervisor and if THAT doesn’t fill you will fear and dread, then you may need to get your doom meter checked.  It’s just one of the many reasons I haven’t been able to really DO anything.  I’m winding down my only day off this week while writing this and when I wake up tonight I have a whole six days back on, two of which are thirteen hour shifts.  It’s also been somehow busier than normal so every day I leave work wanting to punch kittens.

Did I mention I quit smoking in April?  I’ve been on the razor edge of a relapse for the past two weeks now.  I still have some of the medication I took to help me stop, but it makes me very ill so it’s not really an option at this point since I haven’t called into work in over two years and I’m not about to start now.  So far, so good though.

So LOTS of reading has been happening and up until yesterday I was on a sorta kinda forced sabbatical from The Project.  The beginning has been throwing me left, right, and center and I think, given a little bit of poking (and prodding from the spousal unit), that I know how to fix it.  So yippee!  I get to do that this week – maybe.  Writing at work isn’t really an option unless I’m writing by hand (ow ow ow ow), so we’ll see how much inspiration I have after coming home from a night of not being able to strangle nurses who think calling before the body is actually ready is a good thing.

But all that being said: Hooray for upswings!  The fun part about being me is that I have a very, very mild type of mood roller-coaster.  I was diagnosed manic depressive before it became known as bipolar, but I don’t really think of myself as bipolar because it’s been so long since that diagnosis was handed down and things have changed (like puberty – puberty happened).  I’ve gotten very good at picking out when the downswing hits and when the upswing starts so when I’m feeling crappy and teary and whiny for no good reason and I can’t find plot for love nor money, I can recognize it.  It doesn’t make it better, per se, but at least I know that it’ll pass.

I just started the climb back up the coaster so I’ve got at least a month or two (if I’m lucky) of productive good times before I dive back down into the miasma of self loathing.  The medication I’m on isn’t strong, so it takes the edge off, but that’s about it.  I don’t get as high, but I also don’t get as low, so it evens out and, frankly, I’m lucky.  It could be much, much worse.

Anyway, babble babble babble, and apart from sorting the beginning of the story out somewhat, I’ve also got a new set of plot bunnies in the back of my head.  Technically, I suppose, they’re old plot bunnies, but like all things, I finally have a plot to go with the characters.  I started up that bible (lower case ‘b’) last week so maybe when I’m done with this book I can take a break from The World Outside and throw together something (not sure what – whether short-ish novella/story or novel) about lesbians in the circus.  There might also be vampires involved because I don’t like vampires much these days, so if I get to make life hell for a pair of them (the vampires, not the lesbians), I’m going to take that opportunity.

So I’ve been scrambling for books about both the circus and technical theater and in doing so, completely and totally forgot that I’d promised the spousal unit that I’d beta his former student’s sci-fi novel.  There’s also a book a co-worker lent me, as well as a newly acquired steampunk story with skypirates in it, Let The Right One In, and a couple other books recommended to me by way of this post that I wrote back when I didn’t have anything on my plate.

I need to learn how to read faster.

It would also help if this game weren’t so much fun. Nothing free should be this addicting.

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