Making Out With Terror
Jul. 30th, 2010 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
handful_ofdustPerhaps the funniest Dinosaur Comics strip I've seen in donkey's years, here (http://www.qwantz.com/index.php?comic=1762). Oh T-Rex, I've missed you!
Anyways. Otherwise:
My Dad read A Book of Tongues. Predictably, he didn't like the sex much; he'll probably be really happy when I tell him there's almost none thus far in A Rope of Thorns, which I'd been feeling sort of bad about! But overall, I think I can count this one as a win.
Then there's the latest review, at She Never Slept, here (http://sheneverslept.com/newsandreviews/archives/2200). Laurell K. Hamilton levels of steaminess, people; take that as you may.;)
And I just finished 770 words on "[Anasazi]", after adding almost 1,000 words to Chapter Nine last night. Need to keep going with both of those. I also spent some time looking at "History's Crust", "Furious Angels" and "Distant Dark Places", all of which are suitable for various deadline slots. The one thing which needs to be developed from the ground up is that Medusa's head as centrepiece of a Dust-bowl traveling freak/cooch show thing--over the weekend, maybe. In between finally getting to see Inception, so I can at least be on the same pop-cultural page as both loverz and haterz alike.
Last night, I had this insane dream that Steve, Cal and I had gone to pick Mom up after an out-of-town show, and Steve had managed to pack all our stuff in one suitcase. But while I was helping Mom pack up her stuff, wearing only what I usually wear to bed, Steve discovered that some piece of equipment in our room (a steam-cleaner?) had been damaged during our stay, and since he couldn't pay for it, he volunteered to leave our suitcase as collateral.
"Steve," I said, "please bring me a bra, a pair of pants and some socks."
"Ummmm..." He replied.
So I go in and start pulling stuff out of the bag, and when the hotel guy objects, I say: "Listen, I'm taking enough clothes to go home with, and if you have a problem with that, call the fucking cops. Or we can just wrestle over it."
Then I woke up with half my back in spasm--the other half, not the one that usually pains me--really angry as hell at Steve over something he didn't even do.
End of the month, huh? OH yes.
Meanwhile, I've made my first post-iPod-melt 2010 "Best Of" playlist. It's pretty fun/apocalyptic. May post selections from it later on. And now--shower-time!
Don't let terror make out with you on the way out, unless (of course) you'd like it to.
Anyways. Otherwise:
My Dad read A Book of Tongues. Predictably, he didn't like the sex much; he'll probably be really happy when I tell him there's almost none thus far in A Rope of Thorns, which I'd been feeling sort of bad about! But overall, I think I can count this one as a win.
Then there's the latest review, at She Never Slept, here (http://sheneverslept.com/newsandreviews/archives/2200). Laurell K. Hamilton levels of steaminess, people; take that as you may.;)
And I just finished 770 words on "[Anasazi]", after adding almost 1,000 words to Chapter Nine last night. Need to keep going with both of those. I also spent some time looking at "History's Crust", "Furious Angels" and "Distant Dark Places", all of which are suitable for various deadline slots. The one thing which needs to be developed from the ground up is that Medusa's head as centrepiece of a Dust-bowl traveling freak/cooch show thing--over the weekend, maybe. In between finally getting to see Inception, so I can at least be on the same pop-cultural page as both loverz and haterz alike.
Last night, I had this insane dream that Steve, Cal and I had gone to pick Mom up after an out-of-town show, and Steve had managed to pack all our stuff in one suitcase. But while I was helping Mom pack up her stuff, wearing only what I usually wear to bed, Steve discovered that some piece of equipment in our room (a steam-cleaner?) had been damaged during our stay, and since he couldn't pay for it, he volunteered to leave our suitcase as collateral.
"Steve," I said, "please bring me a bra, a pair of pants and some socks."
"Ummmm..." He replied.
So I go in and start pulling stuff out of the bag, and when the hotel guy objects, I say: "Listen, I'm taking enough clothes to go home with, and if you have a problem with that, call the fucking cops. Or we can just wrestle over it."
Then I woke up with half my back in spasm--the other half, not the one that usually pains me--really angry as hell at Steve over something he didn't even do.
End of the month, huh? OH yes.
Meanwhile, I've made my first post-iPod-melt 2010 "Best Of" playlist. It's pretty fun/apocalyptic. May post selections from it later on. And now--shower-time!
Don't let terror make out with you on the way out, unless (of course) you'd like it to.
