Warhead On Legs

( にほんご )

So, I just had an extensive Twitter conversation with the linguist who created the languages for Game of Thrones and Defiance. For no readily apparent reason. Because someone tweeted something about Rosetta Stone Dothraki and I sent it to him and, now I'm being urged to learn Georgian? Bastard, it's actually an intriguing language, too. Double bastard. I might pick it up for a weekend I need to do something that isn't any of the things I need to do, what's relaxing, oh, hey, learning Georgian! Type thing. Not aiming for fluency, just getting an idea of the structure. Shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks.

(What? Don't look at me like that.)

(Some of you are looking at me like that because learning languages for fun? Seriously? Some of you are looking at me with the JAG DO YOU NOT HAVE ENOUGH THINGS TO DO.)

In the meantime I have now done Japanese and made a fucking kickass fettucini chicken alfredo. Like you do. And the boy has been a kickass boy and now half of the lawn is mowed! (It started raining halfway through. WHich just goes to show that buying a lawnmower and declaring your intentions to mow the lawn makes it rain.) And now all the writing and some of the publicizing and I actually do feel better than I have in the past few weeks. What is this madness?? This is not Sparta I am lost.

( Gaeilge )

Okay, then. Note to self: review the genitive case of Irish things.

It's another one of those days when I keep thinking I should have more things to say, but I don't. Yesterday was productive? I discovered that it takes me about 10 minutes to do line edits on 500 words, which roughly gives me (exaggerating at every step for the Unknown Unknowns) 3 weeks to do Twisted Thread. Which means the aforementioned weasel attack but fuck you, weasels, I have shit to do. And these are definitely weasels, not wargs or direwolves. They're eminently dealable. So, that happened, and I got a good chunk, maybe halfway into the Haven essay that I mean to post on Thursday, and I got a fair bit into Person of Interest 1x03. So that should be drafted in plenty of time too and could it be that I'm actually getting a handle on things? No, surely not.

In an equally but less obviously important category of getting shit done yesterday, actually, I went up to bed early and sat and read a chunk of the first Matthew Swift book. Again. Because goddammit I needed some time to sit and just read a book and rest, and it was glorious. And then I went to sleep early! Still hit the snooze button a few times this morning, but otherwise got up early and did stuff and will be leaving on time and so on and so forth. (Also managed to calculate the time I need to leave to get to the bus station and where in the category of across the street from my drop-off it is. Go me!) I now feel rested and ready to tackle the day, something I haven't felt in ... well, a while, before this weekend anyway. Sunday was also a much needed day of fucking off.

... of course then I go into the kitchen to do a last couple of dishes before I leave for work and get distracted taking stock of and decanting my spices into their use-jars. Come on, self. Today is a week day, which means day job and writing, not domestic goddessing. Wake up now. Let's get going.

(... wait, what's with the missing icons on DW? This have anything to do with last night's crash? Eh, further investigation at work! ... oh, wait, there it is. Never mind.)

This is my family, folks.

I got the Christmas Box from the California aunt today. In it we had:

• Lavender and Chamomile hand lotion
  
• cinnamon tea
  
• milk and honey hand lotion that'll give you bees
  
• coffee in some sort of purple explosive bag (there was coffee all over everything)
  
• a gardenia candle
  
• chocolate Channukah gelt
  
• chocolate rocks all pretty painted up
  
• some kind of pretty socks in black gray and red
  
• a purple plastic kaleidoscope
  
• chocolate covered orange flavored marzipan sticks
  
• a Christmas ornament like you send with your Channukah gelt
  
• natural citrus gum drops
  
• licorice drops
  
• orange drops
  
• pomegranate hard candies
  
• eucalyptus bath salts
  
• a fairly heavy orange wood? heart with a stylized elephant painted on it
  
• a pretty scarf
  
• a pretty recycled plastic bag with bees on (see, it did give us bees!)
  
• blackberry sage bubblebath
  
• and some sort of weird acorn thing that is either white chocolate or soap. It smells like soap.
  

This is an exactly typical package of the type sent by my family on holidays and birthdays. A cacophony of scents and flavors and colors and textures, all gathered up with no apparent pattern to them. Occasionally money will be involved, depending on the relative, but mostly, this is what we give each other for Christmas.

My family, ladies and gentlemen. Gotta love 'em.

Okay, so, German will not appear in this space because I was over at the attorneys' CLOSING ON MY GODDAMN HOUSE. YOU GUYS. THE BOY AND I ARE HOMEOWNERS. FUCKING HOMEOWNERS.

And and and. And then the contractor will start work on the two major things that need work, and the boy and I are going to go over sometime this weekend and mow the goddamn lawn and do some preliminary weeding. (I was freaked out in the middle of last night because dear lord how could I ever think I could do this the FRONT WALK WAS OVERGROWN BY WEEDS. And then I woke up properly and wondered why the fuck I was afraid of weeding. I paid for my first leather jacket with my weeding money.) And if the contractor doesn't need the garage as a staging area we'll start stuffing book boxes in there. And craft supplies and things.

YOU GUYS. THE HOUSE. WE GOT IT. IT IS OURS. AND IT IS A HOUSE OF FUCKING AWESOME.

( Deutsch )

I think that's by way of showing me I need to review the rules of Deutsche Konjuntionen.

OKAY. I'm fairly sure I've emailed back and forth with the bank lady about eight times now. Confirming things, correcting things, getting information, sending information. She's nice, but that does nothing to mitigate my readiness for this to be over. Fifteen days and counting!

I managed to actually blurt out a check-in post, and hopefully those problems can be chewed over till solutions present themselves. I have about the brainpower of a stunned cow at the moment, and my eyes are doing the poached egg thing, but I think there will be a nap in my future and then all I have to do tonight is writing and organizing my Japanese review. And I think I'm done mostly with things to turn in for house stuff, at least for the next few days. Until the next week.

I want something sweet. I want an ice cream sandwich. Or an ice cream froggie pop. Some of you might know what I mean, the solid ice cream onnastick sculpted and dyed to look like a cartoon frog? Something like that. I think what I really want is to be twelve again, or seven, before I had to hold all these things in my head and be responsible and do things on time. When the limit of my responsibilities was eating my peas and broccoli and doing my (very easy) homework and not running around the house like a mad thing breaking shit. Which was easy, because I preferred curling up and reading.

No, I'm having fun as an adult. I get to study all the languages ever, I get to hang out and work with my family, which in my case is a good thing. I get to play with craft materials and solve minor puzzles, and I get to write and study languages and I have somehow managed to pull off the house buying coup of the century and get what might very well be my dream house I never knew I could get.

Okay, finally, some details on this dream house. Since it's almost a done thing. It was built in 1856, 1857, and there's supposedly articles and things in the library that I need to go look at. No provenance per se, but historical documents. It's huge. Between 2400 and 2700 square feet, most of the interior is probably original to the 20s, and the exterior brick is, well, original to the mid 19th century, natch. At some point someone took off the original roof and replaced it with a roof that includes an attic you can apparently game in, so says the boy. They neglected to put a drop down ladder, though. Which I guess is the requisite "what were they THINKING?" thing. There is a crack in the pipes somewhere that will necessitate a plumber in, but it's plumbed and wired pretty well for a house that was built both before indoor plumbing and electricity. There is a foyer and maybe two of you ever who have seen Feast of Love will understand why having a foyer makes me giggle. The foyer opens to the left into a room that was probably a bedroom at some point, and probably for a disabled person, because it's got a ground floor shower, toilet, and sink. My guess is someone couldn't manage the stairs. On the right it leads into the living room of ginormous, 34x15 feet or so. With a fireplace. And a mirror above the fireplace. The living room curves around to end connecting to the front hall, and when you go down the hall from the front door to your left and past the front bedroom is the kitchen. It is a fucking huge kitchen. You can put a dining table and four chairs in the kitchen. I know this because previously, someone did. It has two sinks, shelving all over the place, a fuckton of cabinets, and its own door out the side of the house and down a shallow set of steps. Best guess, there used to be a porch out there, you can still kind of see where they cut into the brick. The ceilings are tall. My 6' boyfriend can walk under the foyer chandelier without it hitting his head. In the living room are ALL THE BUILT IN BOOKSHELVES EVER. One set in a L shape along one corner wall, another corner set of shelves in the other corner, and then a hugeass set of bookshelves to the right of the kitchen doorway.

Upstairs! The living room is right underneath the master bedroom. Which means my master bedroom is 34x15 too. Then there's the bathroom, two guest rooms on the opposite side of the house, both with built in shelving and two closets. Basically it goes closet, shelving-ledge-weird little cubbyholes under the shelving, closet. The guest rooms are painted lavender and magenta, that needs to change. And there is a balcony. On which I can stand and wave in a dignified antebellum Southern lady manner to the coaches as they pass.

(Oh who am I kidding, I am neither dignified nor a lady.)

And then there's the attic and then there's a patio off the back, an enclosed glass patio surrounded by deck. And there's a shed, and a garage attached to the house by a utility corridor that must have been a root cellar or something because it's original brick made taller by added woodwork. And there's a small storage loft above the utility room and one up in the garage so we have all the storage space ever, and it's on nearly half an acre so we have room for all the garden ever. And it's white with black decorative shutters and PILLARS. You guys I have PILLARS IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE. I HAVE A HOUSE WITH PILLARS. Yes, I'm easily amused, shut up.

It holds a temperature like you wouldn't believe, we have space to expand, the floors are hardwood and spring and you guys I can dance on my floors. Guys, you guys, I can dig out my ballet slippers and dance on my floors. This is a big thing for me. I could hold masques. Labyrinth themed masques because this is a house built back when they DID SHIT LIKE THAT. We had inspectors and contractors in briefly to look, none of the problems that exist now are things we can't afford to fix, and we'll have a month and a bit to fix them before we even move in. For which I am very grateful. And it's sturdy. And apart from one leak which we now found the source of and which should be easy to patch, it's solid. Waterproof. WELL insulated. It is a fucking amazing house guys you guys I can't believe we are pulling this off.

And now I stop babbling at you and go back to doing actual work type things for five minutes before I go home. Oops. But it needs a name. A house this awesome really needs an awesome name.

This year's New Year's resolution takes place before the turn of the actual secular year. Making more fic recs and leaving more comments, because I always whine when I don't get enough of either.


Tron (mostly Legacy)
oXoA A Yori if she had gone to the new system before Tron: Legacy fic, and a wonderful look at Yori in general. I always was a little sad that she didn't make it into Legacy because of reasons, one assumes, and this is a really well-crafted and poignant look at how she might have changed what happened.

Breakfast I'm a sucker for Sam and Quorra, not necessarily the romance of it but the whole dynamic between them. How close they are after such a short time, both because of their bond with Flynn and on their own merits as people who get along. This story illustrates that bond very, very well.

Haven
Baby I'm Cold Inside One of the most touching Audrey-Nathan stories I've seen, and definitely the best executed hypothermia-excuse-for-shippiness story I've seen.

Carnivale
From the Dirt and Five Card Spread. I miss this show, I really do. From The Dirt is a nice brief look at life in the carnival, Five Card Spread is an epilogue centering around Sophie, her relationships with other people. It's really well crafted, the voices are excellent, the detail is sparse but vivid, rather like the show.

Peter Pan
The Art of Becoming The lyrical flow of this is just beautiful. It's a work that uses the balance and tradition of the same actor playing Hook and George Darling and it's very, very well pulled off. If you've ever been a fan of Peter Pan as theatrical as well as book, definitely have a read for yourself.

Harry Potter/Epic Meal Time
Epic Wizarding Experience (Accio calories, hater) I have no idea what Epic Meal Time even is and this story had me laughing so hard I actually snarfed my food. Yeah.

Warehouse 13
And you wouldn't think I'd forget my own gift, would you, but I did. The Thousandth Man, a poignant and touching and beautiful and snuggleable Claudia&Jinks fic, exemplifying everything I love about those two. They are the bestest of BFFs I have seen on TV in a long, long time, and this story captures that. Made even more awesome by the fact that I apparently didn't actually request Claudia&Jinks on my Yuletide letter, but they are still one of the things I love most about the show. And the writer totally went there. Sweet.

( Deutsch )

( 日本語 )

( Gaeilge )

Mildly irked that I'll be out of access to email while I'm at the doctor's, which goes to show you how rabid I am over Yuletide. Must! Do! All the pinch hits! Still, I'll be home for the giant onslaught of them when the deadline closes and everyone has to scramble to see who didn't make it and what needs to still be written and so on, and I can make my beta's head explode scramble to grab pinch hits then. Plus, by the time this gets posted I'll be able to eat. I'm never that hungry in the mornings except, apparently, on mornings when I'm not allowed to eat anything. Fucking contrary body.

And, yes, this didn't get posted till I got back from the doctor's, so there you are. But I scooped up not one, not two, but ... wait. Now I have to count. Three more pinch hits. Which officially makes me twice as manic as I was last year. I have all of the hyper, there is none left for you. Possibly half of it is Anna's at the moment. Plus the good crack. We are apparently, according to her, bogarting all of the hyper and most of the good crack. Which immediately makes my brain leap to all the fun and most of the good women from the bloody pilot episode of the Highlander TV series, which just goes to show how completely scattered my mind is right now.

And now, ( on to my contrary body. )

So, yeah. I am well and truly boggled. On the other hand, the doctor's visit and all that confusion therein and thereof did give me the feeling that, if I can peel off these last few layers of excess padding? I will be a fucking awesome superheroine. I have good, solid muscle underneath this. I just have to keep noshing protein and enough calories not to lose muscle mass (which is much easier when you keep track of what you eat, oh yes) and keep being mindful.

We've hit the point of Christmas in retail where everyone's decided that going out to the mall is preferable to praying the gifts will arrive in time, which means that since I work in mail order I have very little to do in the way of work type work. Which is fine! Because I have six pinch hits, which is up from the 3 I had this morning and down from the .. 10 or so? 9? I've slurped up overall. Why yes, I am sort of like a crazy person. In the sense of half literal and half hyperbolic, I have no doubt I'm going to pay fort his manic writing fit with brain cells later on, but I will enjoy the hell out of it while it lasts. I've planned about as well as I can for it, so it won't throw me that far off. I think. I hope.

Oh. And while I'm at it, while everyone else is being irked at LJ, I'm on DW too. I'm kittydesade over there too, I'm kittydesade just about everywhere I have an online presence. But I'm not everywhere online, so, you know, don't go assuming that a kittydesade is me. ;) If anyone needs a DW invite, I have MANY LOTS.

( Deutsch )

I have absolutely no idea why I'm suddenly hyper. I got to work, did work, was pretty calm and normal and then suddenly I'm all FUCK YOU BRAINWEASELS I MAY NEED TO LOSE THE LAST BIT OF WEIGHT BUT I CAN DO 25 PUSH-UPS AFTER TWO WEEKS OFF. With a minimum of remembering exercise and crap-all attention paid to eating habits. Granted, that does mean I have to pick up my good eating habits again, but since I found good eating habits I don't mind, that's not very hard at all. And and exercise. And I can do 25 push-ups in five minutes, and I can still run my sorry ass around the park, and. Superhero training for the win, seriously.

Still no wireless for my netbook, which means tags will continue to be slow, which, argh. Just plain argh. It's not even that crazy at work, or, heh, it wasn't before today. Today's a bit hectic, but it won't be all day. And I could get caught up on tags. If I had my netbook on the wireless. But no. Bitch bitch moan.

My eyes are still doing that weird poached egg not enough sleep thing, but my energy level is where it should be. Slightly weird. Most importantly, a day and a half after Dragon*Con I think it's safe to say I have escaped the Con Crud at this point, which makes two years in a row I have escaped Dragon*Con without Con Crud. I'm getting better about doing this in such a way that I don't sock my immune system! Mainly I'm getting better about eating reasonably healthy food and at regular intervals, getting enough sleep, and abusing the hand sanitizer, which I'm pretty sure solves most of the problems. Because cons just encourage not doing the first two and bring everyone in contact with everyone else's germs, which is where the hand sanitizer comes in. And once those weapons have been deployed it would take a sturdy bug indeed to get through the defenses. ... Hm. Still a bit punchy.

Right. I can't catch upon tags, but I can catch up on the fuckton of writing I have to do that hasn't gotten done in far too long, what with everything. And check in, though that might not happen till after I get the shipping out. Mmm. One or the other. Maybe check in while I'm still running on stupid amounts of energy.

( 日本語 )

( Русский язык )

I would like you all to know that I successfully did not write nous sommes or s'il vous plait or anything like that up there, because I managed to toggle the language switch appropriately, even if not always the first time. I consider this a great achievement because half the time I was translating into French. For some unknown reason. And then when I was typing up the French I was thinking in Spanish and god knows what the hell is going on in my head. My brain, how does it work.

Better this morning than yesterday, though! I stayed up long enough to see lireavue get home, then slept in through my usual morning writing and running. Did the rest of my exercises though, so nyah. Fuck you, sleepy impulses, I will be awesome. I managed four sets of six push-ups today, which, considering I thought I would be up to four sets of five a couple days ago, is damn quick. Of course, now my shoulder is tight in some weird way. But! I did notice a thing the other day and this morning. When I shake paint bottles, mustard bottles, dressing bottles, whichever, my upper arm used to jiggle 'cause of not actually having much other than bone and fat and a thin layer of muscle? It don't jiggle no more. Because I am in fucking superhero training and I have muscles now. It's the little things, seriously.

No Exploding Head last night. Thank god. Some weird dreams I can't remember anymore that involved my grandparents, including my thirteen-years-passed grandmother (only she wasn't dead in the dream so it wasn't nearly as creepy as it sounds) for some reason. And my old walking route between school and home. But no Exploding Head.

I still need to check in for the week, yesterday it didn't so much happen because there were gig jitters to discuss and I was exhausted, but need to check in. And then need to figure out how I'm going to cram an entire chapter of Russian into two weeks. I forsee weekend study sessions. And possibly typing up all the rules in one night so I can just read over, copy, and paste into a journal entry, because that's a week's morning's worth of typing right there.

And now, I'm off to see an Elf Lord about a guitar!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHHAHAHAHAH VICTORY IS MINE!

*passes out again*