I Need a Hero

My brain hurts from work-related introspection, so today's entry is going to be purely whimsical. I know, this is highly unusual. I'll give you all a moment to collect yourselves.

*watches dog scratch himself*

And we're back. Today I'd like to discuss a picture that send my heart soaring to new heights of joy. I will preface it by saying that sometimes we wonder, are the people we admire worthy of our love and mental energy? Then we see something so beautiful, so perfect, that we never question our hearts again. I present to you all, the Paris Hilton picture:




I already knew that DJ Ozma was perfect, so direct your eyes to the far left. That's Pancho, a man I would gladly tackle like a lion going down on a gazelle. Only instead of eviscerating him, I would ride him like a rodeo stallion. Until seeing this picture, however, I had no idea how deeply I could respect him as a person.

Take a good look: the man is terrified. Like any sane human being, he is well aware that standing too close to Paris Hilton is like cartwheeling naked through an STD clinic. Note that he is actively shielding his crotch, lest she suddenly lunge at it. Given that Miss Paris seems to have one arm around him, I am fairly sure Pancho later set that shirt on fire. I have never loved him more.

PS: The picture didn't post in good detail, but if you click on it you get a MUCH better look at Pancho's face. You can't help wanting to hug the poor boy.

Back to Work

"Surveillance," aka the worst sci-fi novella ever, is almost done. At least the rough draft is. I won't know if this intergalactic train wreck is salvageable until I can go over and edit the crap out of it. So that word count on the right is destined to get a lot shorter. A part of me just wants to say "fuck it," but I'm not convinced the story completely sucks. Mmm, sweet optimism : )

My plan was to start writing "SOUL JERKY: A tale of sex, booze, and rock n' roll" by December. I'm convinced I can still do that, but it will be a week or two later than I would have wanted. Being sick shoved everything back at least a week, which means SOUL JERKY will span 2009-2010. I find that very festive. Originally, it was going to be a novella. However, after a lot of thought I realized it was enough to make a book. I keep getting ideas for it, and little snippets of the character's back stories. Big thanks to Greg Hall, for granting me permission to use the term "Soul Jerky." I can't imagine the muse flowing like this with any other title.

Happy Weekend!

Enjoy these cold weather tips, and stay toasty : )

Sex on the Beach

I am mostly better. Ying says I'm not contagious anymore, however I still have mucus to deal with (lest I be indiscrete, I'll leave it at that). I can drink coffee again, which is nice, but find that I am sick of bagelfuls. Perhaps forever. This is inconvenient, as I do not know what else to eat for lunch. I may have to rely on cereal for a while, which will necessitate buying cereal.

Writing wise, there was no writing. As fun as it always sounds to write while sick and see how it affects the muse, the reality is that one is usually inclined to do little more than sleep and watch whatever happens to be on T.V. No matter how crappy it is.

Actually, I didn't sleep well at all. Mostly I sweated, which was just great. Waking up in dry blankets is highly overrated: better to wake up feeling like an oily sardine. More proof that I felt like shit:

1. As aforementioned, I had no desire for coffee.

2. Barely used computer. This was a combination of being high on Night/Dayquil and having the attention span of someone high on Night/Dayquil.

3. Barely listened to Kishidan OR DJ Ozma.

Don't get sick, people. It's a huge hairy pain in the ass. Take an orange juice enema if you have to.

To health!

Germs ... so many germs

I feel like this on the inside.

Manual Labor

No writing today. I'm still trying to catch up on my rest, along with the laundry. Ying is sick, so the dishes needed my attention as well. One of them was quite slimy *shudders* If I do one more load of clothes tomorrow, the clothing situation should be stable.

As a result of this domestic flurry, my brain had room to sort out some plot issues. I know what is going to happen for the next few chapters, and what tone I'm going to exit the story on. I'm a happy girl : )

How happy, you ask? Permit me to demonstrate:

Exhausted

I've hit a wall: I don't know how my story ends, and I can't move forward until I do. Hence I'll be taking a short (one day) break, before I go insane. Given the seizure I might have had over the weekend, this will be a chance for my body to recoup. If I did have a seizure, it wouldn't exactly be a shock given my behavior. Remember how I called myself a dumb-ass a few posts back? I forgot to mention that I started taking my pills at strange hours, usually hours earlier/later than I'm used to. Combine that with stress and a very adult hot chocolate and, well, I thrash around like a fish out of water. I was asleep at the time, so I only have Ying's testimony to rely on. Maybe I was having a nightmare.

Don't worry, Ying nagged me roundly for my naughtiness. Later, I will punish myself with laundry. I have plenty to choose from, what with the mountain range of dirty clothes sprawling across our bedroom ; )

Giddy news: My short, "108," is going to be in DEAD BELLS! The elates me to no end, as the tale was specifically written for them and I would have hated to change it for another marker. The story is set in Kyoto, and revolves around a character Ying refers to as "the lonely Japanese man."



Kadomatsu, a traditional Japanese New Year decoration. This particular style is popular in Kyoto.