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This week: Did cardio (machines) four times, weights once. No doubt being on "break" helped a lot here, but it still made me happier and smarter, if not noticably smaller. Eating less crap would probably help out with that latter part, but hey: Fuck it.
Thursday: Finished the first section of "Niemand" (A Dark Place, Somewhere Hot). Roughly 2,000 words, which bodes well for the rest of it, especially since I'm now stuck into the second part (Ancient Mischief), and think there may be up to seven parts overall. My vague plan is to finish this, go on to another female-centric largish piece next, and so on; at the same time, I think I'm going to approach somebody who's NOT the last person about the possibility of yet another collection. It ain't a novel, but it's something--and who knows, the novel may also self-(re)start at any given time, right? Right.
Friday: Went to Saw II with Steve, and was (yet again) surprisingly happy with it, almost to the point of thinking it retroactively redeems its predecessor. I like Tobin Bell a lot, which helps. Not to mention that we came out of it discussing sequel scenarios, which is always fun.
Sidebar: Also rented The Devil's Rejects on DVD; saw little difference between this "unrated Director's Cut" version and the version I originally viewed in the theatre, but--damn, it still sparks something simultaneously icky and utterly enjoyable in me. There's probably meta to be gone into about how and why I can identify so immediately with women who think rape is funny when it happens to other people, or guys with terrible teeth and questionable taste in make-up, or somebody whose idea of a real good pick-up line is to call women "Mama" and assure them that he likes to keep his standards low, so he's never disappointed (especially considering that his more usual way of dealing with women who aren't whores or related to him is to cut out their tongues, tie them to his bed for a week and then keep sleeping with them even after they're dead). Is it just that they're outlaws, "others", and I somehow tend to put myself in that category automatically? I mean, I'm sure not Sherriff Wydell...but no, sadly, I'm probably more like poor old Adam and Wendy Banjo, doomed to either get ranged on for puking under pressure AND shot in the neck, or have to wear my husband's head for a hat, then run out into the road and get squished by a truck. The norms, the cannon fodder. No "Free Bird" gunfire halo anti-getaway freeze-frame for me! (Or Steve, I suppose, but extension.)
TV: Prison Break, Supernatural, Invasion, Lost (and did I call it, or what?), the CSI: Miami/CSI: New York crossover. Other stuff here and there. Books: Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, God-Emperor of Dune and--ta da!--A Feast for Crows, which left me hideously nervous on behalf of just about everybody, and aching for the next installment.
On Saturday I took Mom to have some sort of weird heat-treatment that's supposed to stimulate collagen in her face; they gave her Percoset and Ativan, so she needed a shepherd. On the way back, she bought me lunch and a fair amount of new clothes, so it's not like I got nothing out of it.;) Cal continues to want to be read to, and has grown a nasty drool-rash which (to me) implies that new tooth on the bottom may break any day now. We'll see.
And...yeah, that's about all. Back to school tomorrow; one of my students already called in a lather, not sure if he was supposed to be presenting or not, so I'm sure there'll be a lot of absences or other idiocy coming. But I need to sign off now, on the off-chance that I might be about to hack further into Part Two before I have to get myself to bed in anticipation of that lovely 5:00 A.M. wake-up call. Ta.
P.S.: Almost forgot my sole professional piece of news! Cemetery Dance will be publishing my story "Jack-Knife" in their anthology Shivers 4--the contracts have been signed and returned. Which means tonight also needs to involve a bit of signing those autograph sheets, so I can get Thrillers 2 off the fucking ground too.
Oh yeah, and I downloaded a list of the Top 100 Songs of 1985, and am trying to make my way through them...but they're all so truly rancid, even more so than I remember them being.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agincourtgirl, don't hold your breath.
Thursday: Finished the first section of "Niemand" (A Dark Place, Somewhere Hot). Roughly 2,000 words, which bodes well for the rest of it, especially since I'm now stuck into the second part (Ancient Mischief), and think there may be up to seven parts overall. My vague plan is to finish this, go on to another female-centric largish piece next, and so on; at the same time, I think I'm going to approach somebody who's NOT the last person about the possibility of yet another collection. It ain't a novel, but it's something--and who knows, the novel may also self-(re)start at any given time, right? Right.
Friday: Went to Saw II with Steve, and was (yet again) surprisingly happy with it, almost to the point of thinking it retroactively redeems its predecessor. I like Tobin Bell a lot, which helps. Not to mention that we came out of it discussing sequel scenarios, which is always fun.
Sidebar: Also rented The Devil's Rejects on DVD; saw little difference between this "unrated Director's Cut" version and the version I originally viewed in the theatre, but--damn, it still sparks something simultaneously icky and utterly enjoyable in me. There's probably meta to be gone into about how and why I can identify so immediately with women who think rape is funny when it happens to other people, or guys with terrible teeth and questionable taste in make-up, or somebody whose idea of a real good pick-up line is to call women "Mama" and assure them that he likes to keep his standards low, so he's never disappointed (especially considering that his more usual way of dealing with women who aren't whores or related to him is to cut out their tongues, tie them to his bed for a week and then keep sleeping with them even after they're dead). Is it just that they're outlaws, "others", and I somehow tend to put myself in that category automatically? I mean, I'm sure not Sherriff Wydell...but no, sadly, I'm probably more like poor old Adam and Wendy Banjo, doomed to either get ranged on for puking under pressure AND shot in the neck, or have to wear my husband's head for a hat, then run out into the road and get squished by a truck. The norms, the cannon fodder. No "Free Bird" gunfire halo anti-getaway freeze-frame for me! (Or Steve, I suppose, but extension.)
TV: Prison Break, Supernatural, Invasion, Lost (and did I call it, or what?), the CSI: Miami/CSI: New York crossover. Other stuff here and there. Books: Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, God-Emperor of Dune and--ta da!--A Feast for Crows, which left me hideously nervous on behalf of just about everybody, and aching for the next installment.
On Saturday I took Mom to have some sort of weird heat-treatment that's supposed to stimulate collagen in her face; they gave her Percoset and Ativan, so she needed a shepherd. On the way back, she bought me lunch and a fair amount of new clothes, so it's not like I got nothing out of it.;) Cal continues to want to be read to, and has grown a nasty drool-rash which (to me) implies that new tooth on the bottom may break any day now. We'll see.
And...yeah, that's about all. Back to school tomorrow; one of my students already called in a lather, not sure if he was supposed to be presenting or not, so I'm sure there'll be a lot of absences or other idiocy coming. But I need to sign off now, on the off-chance that I might be about to hack further into Part Two before I have to get myself to bed in anticipation of that lovely 5:00 A.M. wake-up call. Ta.
P.S.: Almost forgot my sole professional piece of news! Cemetery Dance will be publishing my story "Jack-Knife" in their anthology Shivers 4--the contracts have been signed and returned. Which means tonight also needs to involve a bit of signing those autograph sheets, so I can get Thrillers 2 off the fucking ground too.
Oh yeah, and I downloaded a list of the Top 100 Songs of 1985, and am trying to make my way through them...but they're all so truly rancid, even more so than I remember them being.
agincourtgirl, don't hold your breath.
