Warhead On Legs

( 100 слова о торт в подвале. )

Because why not. Even though that's more like ninety six words. This is sort of working well, anyway. Although why everything has to be fairies I don't know. Also, note to self: review everything you can on participles.

Also I need new rude words to call Putin in Russian. Because reasons. And jackassery.

Gods and Monsters is done, Black Ice is being worked on, and I feel vaguely on time at the moment, even if I also feel like hammered shit. But I think I can actually knock out Brownie Mafia and Moose today, which would be very nice. I actually haven't even taken a look at the edits for two of the three remaining main stories. One of them I think was pretty much done the last time, but the other two... argh. I'll have a look at those tonight, I guess, and see how much work they need. And then Haven 1x12 and Haven 4x01 and hopefully Sunday Person of Interest whatever I'm up to, although I suppose I don't need to fully do that one either. Still. As much as I can. It's starting to look much more doable though now that I look at it more in terms of due dates! I can't even imagine what it's going to be like when we're doing Grimm, Haven, and Person of Interest, though. Argh. One thing at a time, self.

Apparently there's some liberal hatred on for Obama and love for Russia and all I have to say is ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH??? This is not a story about how Russia did the noble thing and was redeemed and everything because they brokered the deal we refused to and we wanted to go to war instead. Russia is not the fucking Draco in Leather Pants of the world. Russia is not Loki. Or maybe he is Loki because this seems to be a strong romanticize Russia streak and Russia will beat you and throw you in a gulag if you piss it off. And if you think this whole Syria issue is as simple as Obama wanted to wade in with bombs, Putin sat down and said something reasonable, and Syria caved? You need a serious history lesson in how politics works, friend. What we are seeing is, for once in highly apt metaphor form, the very tip of the iceberg. Many actions have happened that you have not seen. Jesus christ, this is not a game with points you can regain. The deal with Syria, assuming it works out as well as he hopes, does not negate all the shit Putin and the Russian government have heaped down on LGBT people in Russia. I am seriously expecting roundups and gulags next, the way things have been escalating recently. Not that it's ever been friendly, but.

*breath*

So, yeah. That happened, and annoyed me. At least it's not anyone I personally know, or even anyone I vaguely glance at on social media. I just. Really. Politics isn't that simple. Not even people are that simple.

Back to work, I suppose. Tonight I will have me some Phryne Fisher, some whiskey, and probably some good chocolate. I think I have decided in favor of getting some truffles for tonight to celebrate the return of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries. Seriously, you guys, if you enjoy a fun procedural and the twenties and Australian accents and a bob cut on a fierce woman, this is the show for you.

( 日本語 )

( Русский язык )

I am going to be all AUGH DRAGON*CON AUGH until it's actually here. I swear to dog. I'm reasonably prepared, I have everything largely ready to go and the chunk of it that isn't packed is either day clothes that I'll pack tomorrow or stuff we'll pick up at a drug store on the way there, and I'm still freaking out. Still feeling pretty good about going in costume, though.

The guest list isn't fluctuating quite as bad as I'd expected, even if Bruce isn't coming and it still makes me sad. My autograph list has actually been cut down fairly considerably, which means more money for shinies yay! I have no idea what's going to happen apart from perusing the Walk of Fame, either, but there's a panel entirely devoted to Mark Sheppard. I need to attend that. This is my new secondary mission for Dragon*Con, since I don't get to glomp Bruce like a lamprey. Go poke Mark Sheppard.

Oogh. After DragonCon, all the routines will resume. All of them. And I'll need to figure out writing things and language things and exercise things since the daylight time is all shifted and and and. There is a lot of and. I did get some sewing last night and a bunch of tidying, no checking in though, argh need to do that. Need to organize thoughts. Not working.

( Russian )

Okay. Guess who remembered to moisturize today? Oh yeah that would be me. Moisturizer, but no running today, because it was at 97% humidity and I could practically drink the air. I'm not running in that. I have enough breathing issues already.

Oogh. It's Friday. I'm so glad it's Friday. It's going to be a crazy Friday, work's always a little crazy on Friday, but hopefully not too crazy. And then I may try and get out of work a little early. Depends on what errands the boy wants to run. And then, game! Which won't be that bad. I hope. I'm really hoping the Loudy McLargeHam guy either doesn't show up or behaves himself, one of the two. Otherwise the boy and I will have to have a talk about him. I do have some support in that he understands kind of where I'm coming from with the misogyny thing and doesn't dismiss it, and that he doesn't like the way Loudy McLargeHam drags the game off track for forty five minutes at a stretch.

So. But! That's a full week of the only exercises I've been slacking on being the individual ones like situps or weights or whatever, which. I ... something. I need to figure out if I want to run down a list of individual exercises, or just check things off from a buffet selection, or something. Ponder.

Simon Baker is adorable. So is Mark Sheppard. I want one of each for my room.

I also am semi-randomly in the mood for an eclair, or possibly an ECLAIR. However, to get an eclair only requires going to a bakery and to get an ECLAIR requires going some distance, so, hmm, maybe not. I'm not even... oh wait. Never mind. I know why I want an eclair. Bad muses.

Right. I am dressed, scented, ornamented, moisturized, brushed, shod, and chipped. Time to get to work.