Warhead On Legs

( 日本語 )

Yeah, no, our fridge is well and truly dead. Looks like it's takeout and canned meals for the next couple of nights until we can get a new one from apartment management. Whoop de fucking do. Can I have my new house yet? So I can put my new goddamn fridge in it? Pizza for dinner tonight.

I should say something deep and profound and meaningful here. Or maybe something else analytical about Once Upon A Time (and, mainly, Rumplestiltskin) and I kind of feel like I should say that as much as I wanted to shake Belle for being an idiot I realize that I'm also cranky because I expect her to know things that I know, and take that knowledge for granted. With the knowledge and experience she had to work with, she actually did a damn fine job. So, there, I said it. Also, she is the first main female character in any goddamn episode of Once Upon A Time I haven't loathed for being a dippy twit. Well, no, there was Gretel. Second main female character of an episode. There, I said it.

But mostly I'm just tired. I'm tired of this house shit, I'm tired of this apartment being too damn small and/or things not working (heater at the beginning of winter, fridge now, the carpet cleaning they promised never showed up), I'm tired of idiots making dinner plans and then canceling with us at the last minute because they stayed up all goddamn night like morons, I'm tired of the Republican fucking morons who seem to be dominating their party's front lines. And the news in general. I'm tired of the boy's work drama (long story I probably shouldn't share) and I'm tired of being tired and never catching up on my goddamn work.

Fuck the world, I'm going to bed. (And by going to bed I mean writing and going to bed on time rather than early for once. Which is sort of like going to bed but less fun.)

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No, really. Why is the cake a Storm Trooper?

Well, that was rough. On so many levels, first of all being that I adore my grumpy old bastards with all of my heart and I don't like it when they fight. And secondly being that it's really hard to write proper angst when you're writing from the third person limited point of view of a grumpy old bastard who isn't really given to angst. But I got them out of that scene and onto the next, and I'll call that a victory.

I did have the strange incident ... okay, first of all, I posted a new piece of the Ruby/Gold saga of self-indulgence tonight. All That Glitters, seriously you guys I could go on making bad gem/jewel/shiny cliche titles for ages with this pairing. And it really is pure self-indulgence, there's nothing in canon that substantiates it and I don't goddamn well care. But I posted it, and the usual suspects came and drooled all over it and made my self-indulgent heart glad to know I'm not alone. And then I remembered that one of these people had a tumblr, so being the insecure writer that I am I went to see if they'd tumbl'd anything about this. Which they hadn't.

They had, however, tumbl'd something else about a different story of mine. About a purely self-insert story of mine, because the story couldn't go that way, because I didn't believe Rumpelstiltskin caused a whole giant ogre battle to be lost all by himself, because I don't believe one random guard who barely recognizes him by face or by name knows what the hell happened to his wife. Especially when said guard seems to enjoy going out of his way to be a jackass. So I made up some canon and jammed it in there sideways, and since it required a character of 'Rumpelstiltskin's wife', I made one up. Me! Because I do not at all crush on Robert Carlyle I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And because I have Opinions about what happened to him. And because I actually know how to spin and dye and weave, and it tickles me all shades of pink that Carlyle seems to have learned for the role. Or maybe he already knew. No clue.

So anyway, this person had linked to it. And said something about the OC being "a total badass." After going on about obvious self-inserts in much the same tones that I do, and then I feel guilty about writing the same thing. And then someone fangirls all over it and I feel weird. So, that happened.

Then again, some days it seems like all my female characters who don't strictly follow someone else's pattern are self-inserts. So maybe it's just me.

Anyway. So, I finished the Ruby/Gold thing, did some more on Long Road. Started a prequel to the Rumplestiltskin and his lady fic wherein he's a shy but much more whole young man courting a pretty girl, and now I have a pile of fic to work on this weekend. Original stuff, novel plotting, but also that and my Plunkett & Macleane fic sequel, not to mention something in New Amsterdam and J3 needs to get finished and posted. That ought to keep me from thinking about house shit for a while.

( 日本語 )

Well, that was... odd. Long Road came much easier tonight, not sure why. Maybe just stepping off the pressure some helped. There's only a certain amount having a deadline helps, and after a while it just sits on my brain and impedes every word.

I'm really exhausted, maybe too exhausted to ponder much about my writing tonight. Did go through, at least, and make up a rough schedule of alternating work. Fanfic and Black Ice during the day because it's the stuff I can work on and be interrupted at any moment. Triumvirate outline expanding and world-building at night, and Long Road. Hopefully Long Road will continue to be more like meditation and dance and less like, um, that analogous ruby scene in Plunkett and Macleane. There might be three of you who will get that, I leave it to the rest of y'all's imaginations.

And so good night unto you all.

Still working on the translation for that aughwallo'deutsch, might as well post it all at once.

( 日本語 )

And for accountability we have many, many pages of Arabic. Since I neglected to do this whole thing last time. At least two of those would be improved by my figuring out how to use the printer-scanner thingie, but oh well. Since I'm lazy, you get blurry Arabic in bad handwriting.

Oof. And now I get to vomit up words onto a web page, which should go better now that I'm more awake and yet still makes me fairly nervous. It probably shouldn't, but it does. On the plus side, the story I wrote that's the whole reason I have to abruptly make a web page makes me very happy. So there's that.

This whole house buying thing is immensely frustrating. Mostly being that banks seem to run at the same speed as the government, which is to say speed? What's what? I want my damn pre-approval letter so I can get that part over and done with. And I also want to find some kind of inspector for the stupid house, which I think might come down to realty lady since the contact I did have hasn't gotten back to me. As far as I can tell. There might be something sitting in my spam folder, I should check that. In short, everything is going way too damn slow.

Today, just so I don't run myself ragged with the million and one things I want to do, today is for cleaning. Tonight is for making cream of tomato basil soup and beef stew. Tomorrow is for making minestrone soup and decanting the last of the notrefried beans into a container. Today is also for coding and a little bit of writing, at least Long Road and Juke Joint Jezebel, and then tomorrow is for more writing. I should actually make a chart of things so that I don't, again, try to do all of those at once and end up failing at everything because my mind is too scattered. I can feel myself getting almost too hyper.

And at some point I do need to make those Molly Hooper icons, but this one was too good to pass up. I don't even remember why it occurred to me, it just did. Pissed off!Cumberbatch is sexy!Cumberbatch.

( 日本語 )

Okay, that was better. That was much easier and better, albeit interrupted a little of the way through to do some thrashing of spreadsheets. But tomorrow it'll be easier still (I hope) and I'll get more written. I actually wrote, according to my word counter, about twice as much today in Long Road as I did yesterday. I definitely wrote twice as much in general. Two Once Upon A Time fics, one for the cuddle meme and one that I drabbled because I still ship Emma/Stranger-as-adult-Bae.

This does sort of help. Both flossing my brain with short fanfic and setting down my thoughts on writing before bed, except that today my thoughts are "damn, that was way easier" and that's about it. But, Nameless came easier today. Yes, I may have phrased that on purpose.

So tomorrow there will be Triumvirate outline expanding and some more written on Long Road and hey, I got my publishing schedule laid out through the end of February! Up to and including building up my website, which I'd started to neglect. Which is all very well when you have actual content there but when it amounts to a holder page with a few broken graphics, not so much. What I really should start doing is I should start transporting the Arcana stuff over, because that's the stuff everyone links to and talks about. Even after they're years past talking to me like a person or at all, which actually kind of amuses the shit outta me. Apparently I have good ideas. Who knew.

And of course some fanfic mental floss tomorrow. Probably the Sherlock Mrs. Hudson fic that I have yet to finish, fix up, and toss out there. Juke Joint Jezebel can wait for the next section till Friday night or Saturday day, I don't anticipate doing anything this weekend. Other than chewing on my desk because of Old Hotness.

To sum up tomorrow's tasks:
1. Triumvirate outline expand and add
2. Long Road
3. Sherlock Mrs. Hudson fic

( Deutsch )

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And then there wasn't any Russian because I never started it under the assumption that I'd be interrupted halfway through by a phone call for a phone interview for pre-approval for a loan, only fifteen minutes later the guy still hadn't called, so fuck that. Why the fuck is it so hard to get pre-approval for a loan these days? Or at least, why the fuck do banks move so goddamn slowly? We were supposed to have the pre-approval letter from Bank 1 by the end of the week last week. Grumble snarl. I want this freaking pre-approval letter so we can make the moves I want to make. Chew froth rage. Not that I'm being a bit neurotic or nervous about this or anything.

Right. I have other things to be neurotic about, though. I need to do a modly thing for Witches BigBang and do Spanish, and then I need to work on, hmm, today, let's see. Triumvirate faction sheet and fixing that outline, and then another Long Road chapter tonight. That's enough extra work to do today.

I did, in fact, start an Emma/adult!Stranger!Bae fic the other afternoon. Between checking crap in at work and handling other things that came up. We got a huge order of weaving yarn to fucking New Zealand that has even more complications you would not believe. I hardly believe it. Today, hopefully some more progress can go on that, and some more progress on other things, and guh. My brain is just so scattered right now. Not even routines-wise, my routines are in fairly good shape although I did swap dance video for other exercises this morning and that worked better. Which just goes to remind me that general workout works better as a starter than specific. But also just in terms of, the things I want to concentrate on are both too numerous and too emotionally involved for me to be able to sift through them and pull the right one up at the right time. Meh. This irritates me.

Well. One thing at a time, really. Getting to work first, and then doing one thing at a time, and so on. And not being pissy because I ended up not doing Russian because someone at Quicken is a fuckmuppet.

Oh, hey, something else I did think of. If you read a story in progress, and you're all "Okay, this is well written, but I just can't buy the basic premise"... why would you then bookmark it presumably for later reading? I was irritated for about a minutes or two, now I'm just bemused. Well, if they don't find it plausible, they can either read or not read, as they like it, I'm damn well not going to rewrite 10k of story just because one person finds it implausible. I just. Bzuh?

　　　　　

( 日本語 )

Really, eventually I'm going to need a guitar rack. There's only two problems with this. Three, the first one being, no space, which hopefully will be solved with buying a house. ... That sounded so cavalier. The second being that I should actually get a guitar strap first so that my shoulders and back don't tense up with holding the damn thing all the time. The third is that every time I think that I end up thinking of Wayne's World the Movie. "I don't even own a gun, let alone many guns that would necessitate an entire rack! What am I going to do with a gun rack??"

After watching the new Sherlock, this is definitely the funniest thing ever. Bonus points for the mental image of Vinnie Jones crotch-tossing Moriarty like he did that football player one time. Not American football, for those of you who were wondering.

I finally gave in and made a tumblr seriously considered making a tumblr for the first time ever, possibly to just post short snippets of things. Fanfic or original fic or fanfic so obscure and lacking in names or identifying details that it could be original fic. And then I realized that every time I sit down to write a snippet it ends up being a thousand or more words long, so there went that idea.

But I did finally make the icon from Split Second I meant to.

( 日本語 )

( Gaeilge )


I think I'm actually out of stuff I can research as regards to That House in particular. Which means it's time to research things relating to house buying in general, finish reading over that sample offer thing, much less exciting. Bah. Hopefully the boy is going to the bank today to figure that part out, and then we'll do something else. I want this to be linear goddammit. Unfortunately what I want and what happens or ends up happening ain't ever exactly been similar.

I need more Robert Carlyle spinning in Once Upon A Time. Mostly, I need more hot men doing work with their hands hand porn. I have no idea why I need this, but I do. Visuals and physicality, not that I pay attention to this kind of thing. Hell, I'd take more Jackie Earle Haley as Guerrero working with the guns or, um. Something. I need more of this in my life. What? I have very obvious erotic/entrancement patterns. Adding that second one because it's not even necessarily erotic, just, ooh pretty. I like hot men with distinctive physicality who do things with their hands. And their bodies. Not those kinds of things.

Oh, I know what I need more of. Musician hand porn. Someone find me hot guitarist footage.

... you know what's funny is that the second I typed that, Anna sends me links to hot violinist footage. Which is similar enough!

It's raining out. It's storming out. I don't want to go to work, I want to stay at home and knit and play guitar. Of course, it's entirely possible that at work I won't have much to do other than sit and knit and spin and do things with my hands, so there's always that. But I still don't want to go and find out that I have to do less fun things. Ah well, work always has moments of being less fun than we want, I'm still damn lucky to be where I am doing what I do.

This does not mean that you should not send me links to working hands porn, though.

( 日本語 )

Oi, splitting headache came back. I could have done without that. Fortunately I have aspirin, a bathrobe, and nothing in particular I need to do for the rest of the night.

Not only did I manage to put together another ten notes onto the Hotel California solo and increase the tempo a hair, I managed to learn how to play Johnny Cash/Trent Reznor's Hurt just about at speed. This in addition to my success at mailing off a rough draft of the BigBang Mixup not just on time but early. Fuck yeah I'm awesome. (Of course then I discovered that the due date had been postponed till, um, March 1st. Which irritates the everliving hell out of me, I mean, I understand that sometimes shit happens but the last time people knocked around with the due dates of a Big Bang I ended up getting majorly screwed up as far as time issues and everything else over Nano and a couple other projects. Christ, people.)

So, yeah. At that rate I can take three weeks to let the draft sit and then come back to it. Actually, I might as well just stick that on the calendar for February 1st, and have that be my come back to it date. I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, somewhere around the middle the mood shifted from one thing to another, but that's what it's a rough draft for. I'll fix it.

Which means that the rest of tonight will be either, complete and utter fluff, or complete and utter fluff mixed in with bashing together outlines for self-publishing porpoises. Guess which one I'm going to end up doing. Go on, guess. Sigh. Work, work, work. Now I remember why I gave up the first couple of times. I just have to keep reminding myself that if I don't get it done by my self-imposed deadlines, I'll have a better idea at least of how long it'll take me to do this.

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I have a headache, the furnace is out, and maintenance is crawling all over the apartment fixing it. This is not my best morning ever.