Too Tired to Come up with Much
Dec. 4th, 2006 04:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
handful_ofdustThat was the weekend that was—-
New words: 3,469
Sections completed: Again, hard to tell, but I believe we’re just about midpoint in the treatment. Planning out the final act is becoming particularly pressing.
Words total: 13,971
Reasons for stopping: It was almost 3:00 AM. I had to meet Mom to work out at 11:00 AM (got there by 11:30), and then I had to go to Mississauga.
Darling du Jour: I’m pretty happy with a lot of my mother/daughter relationship-building (or is it –deconstructing, given these chicks?) stuff. No quotes spring to mind.
Mean Things: When you can copy yourself infinitely, you tend to be sort of blasé about killing yoursel(ves). Or leaving tween versions of yourself behind in gas station washrooms.
Tyop du Jour: No standouts. At the moment, we’re in the puke-it-all-out phase. Soon I’ll have to start polishing, which is when the true Hell of Continuity Errors begins.
Books in progress: I sorted out a bunch of them for the December 16 Diners Xmas Party Royale, as part of the usual grab-bag I tend to bring. Just finished the Beautiful Cigar-Girl, which hopefully will form part of my research for The Heart’s Filthy Lesson. It therefore joins my row of post-Gangs, mid-1800s fiction and non-fiction.
TV: On most of the time, but I remember very little of it. Though Cal and I did watch a big chunk of Cobra during late Saturday afternoon, a movie I can never contemplate without remember that my friend Jason Taniguchi was once force to study it in Film class at U of T—-I can only suppose because it’s such an amazing example of a very particular sort of Hollywood crap. One way or the other, it’s fairly mesmerizing.
DVDs: An Italian horror movie I got from Jovanka Vukovic called (I believe) Divided into Three. Shot on video yet visually inventive and quite entertaining, though it lagged in the second half (which is why I started watching it on fast-forward); it’s a bit like an Afterschool Special directed by Lucio Fulci, with three slackers breaking into their school to steal tests they failed, only to discover a stairway to Hell in the basement. Good music, though.
Films: Nada.
Music: Jack.FM—I think I’ve heard more of the Guess Who? In the last few weeks than at any point in my life since the actual 1970s—plus Pod on shuffle. I need to take some time to plan out my usual Year-End mixes, then go burn them on Mom’s system…I’ve already taken a run at it, but I now need to split them into two separate lists/discs. Am giving serious thought to putting the fourteen-minute cornfolk epic "I Dream a Highway" by Gillian Welch on one of them, even though it’s not something that came OUT this year, because I often do like to highlight stuff I just discovered around mix-time; this means one mix will be nine songs instead of the usual twelve. But really, whatever.
Loads of dishes done: Two per day.
Loads of laundry done: Four per day.
Garbage trips: Five per day.
Coffee?: More than was good for me.
Food: I’m thinking I may cut out bread again. And sweets (ha ha). Well, bread, definitely. Still, the snack of choice these days is defrosted shrimp shaken in a container with two tablespoons of salad dressing and a squirt or so of Dijonnaise, so I’m probably not in as bad a dietary place as I otherwise might be.
Exercise: BodyFlow on Saturday, treadmill and weights on Sunday. I want to jack it back up to where I was at my best this year, doing four to five days a week. I’d also like to start doing yoga to wind down before bed, or wake up in the morning…one more thing on the agenda. Maybe if I can make it through an entire week of cooking my own dinners, Steve’s impending Wednesday-Thursday-Friday (which he only saw fit to tell me about today) mini-event notwithstanding.
Aches and Pains: PMS from H-E-L-L. Granted, ‘tis the time of the semester for stupid-asstitude, but I flew off the handle in some truly interesting ways on Friday, here and there. On Saturday, I found myself standing in front of a mirror in lululemon, paralyzed with self-loathing by the way a jacket Mom was trying to sell me on made me look/feel. Tonight I’m okay enough to laugh about it. I’m thinking the deluge is due any minute now.
Cal Report: Babbling freely. Yesterday he said "Mommy" for the first time. "Bobo!" I replied, happily. Fifteen repetitions later, I was remembering that thing about being careful what you wish for.
Sent out: Nuttin’. Did some thinking about listing If You Have Ghosts, my other spec, at inktip.com. It’d mean I’d have to format it as a .pdf, which takes time, and register it with the WGA, which costs money. Also thought about trying to compile a list of places to send reprint stories—-podcast sites, maybe?—-and whether it would be feasible to put together yet another POD collection, one which could be a "best of" that people wouldn’t have to go through They Who Will Not Be Named to access. Maybe through lulu.com (no relation)? Man, I need a secretary.
Work-type work: Story-edit’s at about 45 pages out of 97; man, is it gruelling. Lilim, OTOH, is a living, breathing thing. I’m happy to come back to it at the end of the day, because it might end up going aaaanywhere. And that’s as good as it gets.
So, onwards. You won’t hear from me for a while. Be good.
New words: 3,469
Sections completed: Again, hard to tell, but I believe we’re just about midpoint in the treatment. Planning out the final act is becoming particularly pressing.
Words total: 13,971
Reasons for stopping: It was almost 3:00 AM. I had to meet Mom to work out at 11:00 AM (got there by 11:30), and then I had to go to Mississauga.
Darling du Jour: I’m pretty happy with a lot of my mother/daughter relationship-building (or is it –deconstructing, given these chicks?) stuff. No quotes spring to mind.
Mean Things: When you can copy yourself infinitely, you tend to be sort of blasé about killing yoursel(ves). Or leaving tween versions of yourself behind in gas station washrooms.
Tyop du Jour: No standouts. At the moment, we’re in the puke-it-all-out phase. Soon I’ll have to start polishing, which is when the true Hell of Continuity Errors begins.
Books in progress: I sorted out a bunch of them for the December 16 Diners Xmas Party Royale, as part of the usual grab-bag I tend to bring. Just finished the Beautiful Cigar-Girl, which hopefully will form part of my research for The Heart’s Filthy Lesson. It therefore joins my row of post-Gangs, mid-1800s fiction and non-fiction.
TV: On most of the time, but I remember very little of it. Though Cal and I did watch a big chunk of Cobra during late Saturday afternoon, a movie I can never contemplate without remember that my friend Jason Taniguchi was once force to study it in Film class at U of T—-I can only suppose because it’s such an amazing example of a very particular sort of Hollywood crap. One way or the other, it’s fairly mesmerizing.
DVDs: An Italian horror movie I got from Jovanka Vukovic called (I believe) Divided into Three. Shot on video yet visually inventive and quite entertaining, though it lagged in the second half (which is why I started watching it on fast-forward); it’s a bit like an Afterschool Special directed by Lucio Fulci, with three slackers breaking into their school to steal tests they failed, only to discover a stairway to Hell in the basement. Good music, though.
Films: Nada.
Music: Jack.FM—I think I’ve heard more of the Guess Who? In the last few weeks than at any point in my life since the actual 1970s—plus Pod on shuffle. I need to take some time to plan out my usual Year-End mixes, then go burn them on Mom’s system…I’ve already taken a run at it, but I now need to split them into two separate lists/discs. Am giving serious thought to putting the fourteen-minute cornfolk epic "I Dream a Highway" by Gillian Welch on one of them, even though it’s not something that came OUT this year, because I often do like to highlight stuff I just discovered around mix-time; this means one mix will be nine songs instead of the usual twelve. But really, whatever.
Loads of dishes done: Two per day.
Loads of laundry done: Four per day.
Garbage trips: Five per day.
Coffee?: More than was good for me.
Food: I’m thinking I may cut out bread again. And sweets (ha ha). Well, bread, definitely. Still, the snack of choice these days is defrosted shrimp shaken in a container with two tablespoons of salad dressing and a squirt or so of Dijonnaise, so I’m probably not in as bad a dietary place as I otherwise might be.
Exercise: BodyFlow on Saturday, treadmill and weights on Sunday. I want to jack it back up to where I was at my best this year, doing four to five days a week. I’d also like to start doing yoga to wind down before bed, or wake up in the morning…one more thing on the agenda. Maybe if I can make it through an entire week of cooking my own dinners, Steve’s impending Wednesday-Thursday-Friday (which he only saw fit to tell me about today) mini-event notwithstanding.
Aches and Pains: PMS from H-E-L-L. Granted, ‘tis the time of the semester for stupid-asstitude, but I flew off the handle in some truly interesting ways on Friday, here and there. On Saturday, I found myself standing in front of a mirror in lululemon, paralyzed with self-loathing by the way a jacket Mom was trying to sell me on made me look/feel. Tonight I’m okay enough to laugh about it. I’m thinking the deluge is due any minute now.
Cal Report: Babbling freely. Yesterday he said "Mommy" for the first time. "Bobo!" I replied, happily. Fifteen repetitions later, I was remembering that thing about being careful what you wish for.
Sent out: Nuttin’. Did some thinking about listing If You Have Ghosts, my other spec, at inktip.com. It’d mean I’d have to format it as a .pdf, which takes time, and register it with the WGA, which costs money. Also thought about trying to compile a list of places to send reprint stories—-podcast sites, maybe?—-and whether it would be feasible to put together yet another POD collection, one which could be a "best of" that people wouldn’t have to go through They Who Will Not Be Named to access. Maybe through lulu.com (no relation)? Man, I need a secretary.
Work-type work: Story-edit’s at about 45 pages out of 97; man, is it gruelling. Lilim, OTOH, is a living, breathing thing. I’m happy to come back to it at the end of the day, because it might end up going aaaanywhere. And that’s as good as it gets.
So, onwards. You won’t hear from me for a while. Be good.
