"Farewell blues"
Feb. 22nd, 2004 02:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeExhausted. Drained. Pick a word, I feel it. I don't know why tonight, why now, but it's there. And yet before I totter off to bed I felt the need to update and tell you all what silly things I'm doing in my life. Because I'm silly like that.
I finally figured out what the hell I'm doing for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
talespinning. A couple days late, but never mind that, I can make up for lost time pretty easily. Time and speed is never the issue, coherency is the issue. Facility of writing, of putting one word down in front of the other and unfreezing my terror-stricken fingers. That's always the problem. I never think my ideas are good enough, so half of them never see print. Still. I need to write something for it, after all.
Game was highly enjoyable tonight. Deadlands, and I got to shoot things. What fun! There was a dragon for some reason, although I suspect it was a metal/mechanical construct. And there were Ominous Men in Red Robes (tm). And did I mention I got to shoot things? Always a plus.
And then for some reason we spent nearly an hour alternating between talking about sex, animals, perversion, sexual habits, "swinging both ways" in response to being given a choice between chocolate or vanilla cake... and returning to game, in which we were riding to Salt Lake City. We were riding to Salt Lake City over and over again. It was like groundhog day. Although come to think of it I'm surprised no one made any vanilla jokes. I laughed so hard I could barely breathe, much less eat or drink. The ice cream melted all over my three-sectioned monster plate.
Painting tomorrow, and writing outlines and things for novels and other things. I need to buckle down and write my short stories and finish the two novels I meant to write this month. Not that this month is over by a long shot. But I do have so much work to do. And I'm so very tired.
And I think that's all the news that's fit to print, so I'm for bed. Recruiting poster tomorrow.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
almightyhat, he is absolutely gorgeous. But then, as he would say, how could he not be?
Bonsoir
I finally figured out what the hell I'm doing for
talespinning. A couple days late, but never mind that, I can make up for lost time pretty easily. Time and speed is never the issue, coherency is the issue. Facility of writing, of putting one word down in front of the other and unfreezing my terror-stricken fingers. That's always the problem. I never think my ideas are good enough, so half of them never see print. Still. I need to write something for it, after all. Game was highly enjoyable tonight. Deadlands, and I got to shoot things. What fun! There was a dragon for some reason, although I suspect it was a metal/mechanical construct. And there were Ominous Men in Red Robes (tm). And did I mention I got to shoot things? Always a plus.
And then for some reason we spent nearly an hour alternating between talking about sex, animals, perversion, sexual habits, "swinging both ways" in response to being given a choice between chocolate or vanilla cake... and returning to game, in which we were riding to Salt Lake City. We were riding to Salt Lake City over and over again. It was like groundhog day. Although come to think of it I'm surprised no one made any vanilla jokes. I laughed so hard I could barely breathe, much less eat or drink. The ice cream melted all over my three-sectioned monster plate.
Painting tomorrow, and writing outlines and things for novels and other things. I need to buckle down and write my short stories and finish the two novels I meant to write this month. Not that this month is over by a long shot. But I do have so much work to do. And I'm so very tired.
And I think that's all the news that's fit to print, so I'm for bed. Recruiting poster tomorrow.
almightyhat, he is absolutely gorgeous. But then, as he would say, how could he not be?Bonsoir
