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... I think it should be modernized to "lasers."
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I dreamed about what my subconscious insists is "my next mistake." (Dammit subconscious, you listen to Tayli-po as well? Isn't it shameful enough that my cat and I do?) Demanded an e-mail address. "Majorwalnut8@msn.com," she replied.

A waking search for this came up with lots of wood stains.
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Have REALLY been loving the Online SFF Workshop. I posted that piece about the memory of blood and bone, and it's getting SO finely-milled with feedback.

Only... a plot point (is it a plot point if it occurred before the story began?) of the story is that the viewpoint character, a former healthcare professional, has diagnosed herself as dying of a disease after having outlived most of humanity, and she is sending her kids out so she can have quiet time to think about whether she wants to euthanize herself or not. I hint at it in several places, but I don't say it outright. And people get irritated at me for these hints, but they don't pick up on what these irritating things are pointing to... they seem to think she is bored and horny (and yeah, she is, but these are the least of her worries). And man, it galls me to do it, it feels like a huge diss to my readers, but I'm going to have to spell it out.


I've also ditched some beginnings of language drift in an isolated community: it's now a dorm, not a "cuna." Siiiiiiigh.

Also irritating to my readers, but I am NOT "fixing" it: I have an acronym in the story (the central theme is mnemonics for survival in a sundered world) that every single male critique person who has touched it bitch that he's never heard of it and he doesn't know what it is. Well, that's not a bug, it's a feature. The world has experienced a quantum shift and there are challenges that must be common, everyday knowledge to my characters that do not begin to occur to the warmly-ensconced, (one hopes) unthreatened-by-redcaps reader. If you are muttering "pos to pos, dead-live-live, neg to ground," you're probably not going to stop to explain the internal combustion engine or what you mean to the person whose car you are jumpstarting, and that's mean if you think you are a character in a Jules Verne story, but it's atmosphere here.


I am debating finding a specific disease for my character: something easily-curable in the modern world (but not when you have no access to modern healthcare technology), with distinctive symptoms that are currently hideable and will take her out in weeks of months. I suppose I could always go with rabies, so preventable today, but still fatal.

Oh, man, work in twenty. SO unready.
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Bah, I'm super-exhausted. I must not be eating, again. So, back to granulating my to-do list:

Read more... )
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Day off tomorrow (technically today).

Last day off until my father and stepmother (sans dog this time around) will be visiting from Alabama. I am very excited. My parents, both sets, are good parents, and I feel extraordinarily fortunate to have them visiting.

So, to do, today:

1. Wash sweater;
2. Acquire pants that fit, possibly a white blouse (my preference for skirts makes my stepmother vaguely uncomfortable, probably because I tended so disastrously to over-dress for everything as a child/ teen/ young adult, possibly because it's not her style. All my bifurcated clothing no longer fits), food, and vacuum cleaner (and flea carpet treatment);
3. Call card company about being locked out of my online account (grr);
4. Re-arrange living room (yes, again. Have an idea about the "home office". Also, I somehow think a fainting couch will be dropping into my life, soon);
5. Deep clean kitchen, bath, living room, and bedroom. (I do not think my parents will stop in, but any excuse to have things white-glove clean is a good excuse);
6. Install towel rack;
7. Push-ups;
8. Pilates;
9. Justiz work-out;
10. Critique one work on the SFF online workshop;
11. Answer E's letter;
12. Shower;
13. Pack overnight case;
14. Watch Beauty and the Beast;
15. Read comic books;
16. Set up sewing machine and find out if it works;
17. Get boots out of storage and fix;
18. Finish knitting;
19. Shop for hostess gift (parents are renting a house and having me stay);
20. Donate to AO3.
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1. CAT CAME BACK. I called Bill, and said, "Hey, my cat's gone. Mind if I talk to you while I walk about the property and she can hear my voice? Thanks! Hang on, let me turn on the bluetooth... WAIT HELLO YOU LITTLE PUNKASS BITCH I WAS SO WORRIED--- not you, Bill..." Bill is magic, is my point.
Read more... )
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Little shit got out around 2 a.m. She's usually back well before now, and she has the gimpy leg (still).

She has always come back before, but still, I am worried. And I can't sleep. I can kind of tell when she is in earshot of my calls and just ignoring me. She doesn't hear me.

I haven't slept, and I can feel the impending migraine. I want to call out of work (shamefully, especially since they have contrived a "computer error" that does me out of my perfect attendance for the week--- funny the timing on that, and yes, the "no lunches" and "ten-plus-hour-shifts" when I WAS specifically listed as not available do sort of contribute to this, even though I realize that letting the poor behavior of others influence me to be not as good as I ought to be is just the foundation of terrible choices). The thing is, if I don't come in, there will be literally no-one in some of my departments.

But if I do come in, a good agent doing a terrible job (and it will be a terrible job--- in a full-on migraine, I can't see the words on computer screens and I sound like I am zonked out of my gourd on drugs I have not taken) screws up WAY harder than terrible agent doing just a normal day of terrible agent-ness, if that makes sense? I'm normally a 9.5. If I have a day of being a 3 or a 4, it gets noticed. reprimanded, whereas the agent who does a normal 5 is just fine. I may get the sack.

I'm calling out.
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Seven hours left of my day off... going to alternate between self-indulgence, cleaning, job skills tuning, and fitness (I really have been neglecting fitness since the con, which is not fair to my future Mockingbird costume).

This schedule--- one day off, three days 9:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m., then another day off, then three days 3:30 to 2:00 a.m.--- is not optimal, but it's not killing me the way full-time night shifts do.

I have decided to take lunch on the night shifts anyway. It's a ten-hour shift, and yes, it sucks that they don't have anyone scheduled to cover the phone lines when I'm away from the phones. It also sucks that someone "accidentally" deleted that I'm not available for night shift. What I have been told is, "well, you don't have to not have lunch, but no-one on the night shift doesn't have lunch, and it's slow enough that there's no reason for you to need breaks." Um. Yes, yes there is, actually. Yes, 2.5 hours of OT a week would be nice, but I don't want to become a crispy pile of cinders, useless to all. Sorry. That is ALSO how neurotypical brains work, it's just that NT's don't have to fight at every turn to carve out a space where they can function.
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1. Really? NOBODY hears about the Illuminati and thinks, "Yes, well, I trust these guys, and the fewer people who know about these reality-shattering rocks that they are specifically getting together to make sure they are NOT used (and to watch each other to make sure they're not being driven to unwise thoughts by the pressures of superherohood), the better. I get it."
2. That having been said: Really? Not one woman on the rock-protecting team until someone's widow gets accidentally sucked in? And not one unpowered individual? No persons of color? Ick, y'all, seriously, fuck you and your "white man's burden," wake up and stop "protecting" people who don't look like you from being in positions of power;
3. And nothing in place to make sure the others know when one of them dies? Man, these may be the greatest genii that corner of reality have ever seen, but I've seen better-organized games of Cards Against Humanity. Their meetings don't even have snacks. Of COURSE everyone's going to be crabby and obstreperous without sarnies. How did they pick this committee?
4. Looking specifically at the Hood, but drawing back: WOW, could the Marvel Universe use some prison reform. Self-directed cognitive-behavioral therapy (not the "oh, poor me," school of therapy that pretty much ruined my ability to human) and some pets, and there would have been a 95% reduction in giant assholes falling from the sky in less than 18 months, guaranteed. You want to defeat Ultron, set him to thinking about that.
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Well, my beloved Microsoft music pass is going the way of all things... merged into Spotify. Spotify is nice for what it is and does, but a woman gots needs, and this woman sublimates those needs into music. It seems my options are:

1. Deezer;
2. Qobuz (Pros: allows downloads; uses richer formats; Cons: fucking UK hipster music snobs... not that I can talk);
3. Tidal (got the Groupon on this, will explore);
4. Amazon Unlimited (definitely has lots of the usual catalog I hit; does not have an annual subscription discount, not that many of these other jubjubs do);
5. Spotify Unlimited (is it legit that I hate their interface on my phone? Pros: social playlists);
6. Google Music

Anyone have any other suggestions or knowledge of such things?
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... the Evil Dead musical is playing locally.

I'm listening to the soundtrack. Hm.

Maybe not.

To-do

Oct. 9th, 2017 01:34 am
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I have until 7:00 a.m. today to accomplish the following. Mostly I lay about and watched movies and ran to the store today, my bad.

1. Dishes;
2. Justiz workout;
3. CC 101;
4. Write;
5. Push-ups;
6. Pilates;
7. Squats;
8. Language games;
9. Laundry;
10. Test eggs;
11. Write;
12. Shower;
13. Brush cat;
14. Rearrange living room;
15. Tidy living room;
16. Prepare donation;
17. Read a comic;
18. Write to T.
19. Make bed;
20. Paint toes.

Rolling dice in five-minute intervals, brain is kind of schedule-jarred right now.

Okay

Oct. 8th, 2017 03:31 am
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So if I am not pleased about having a "bikini bridge", can I be unbothered by my "hip dips"? FFS, that's not a "fat" issue, that's a "how legs are put together for my phenotype" issue. A significant number of Victoria's Secret "angels" have them if you look at video and amateur photos rather than the press-released (and Photoshopped) stuff.

GARG stupid body standards are just that. If Naomi Campbell rocked it, you can't knock it.
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So: current schedule: whipsawing me back and forth between night shift and second shift, 10.5 hour days, and they've told me that lunch breaks are now no longer a thing.

I feel like crying.

Ooh, burn

Oct. 8th, 2017 02:16 am
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Ever notice how, in the 80's Avengers comics, Jarvis calls most male Avengers, "Master [Hawkeye, etc.]"?

I realize this is probably "how the writers think butlers address their charges," but "Master" was and is a form of address reserved for boys 8-13, and I like to think of a comment upon the emotional maturity of the boys.
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