Warhead On Legs

( Gaeilge )

Still a bit freaked about money, and the amount of it I have to spend. Still annoyed that everything needs maintenance. Still not completely freaked because savings, but ugh.

On the somewhat more amusing side, I managed to sit through the entire first episode of Dominion last night. It was troperrific. I'm entirely certain there was not one goddamn character in that episode who had a lick of characterization beyond the trope/archetype/stereotype. There was the Chosen One, played by Chris Egan who also played the Chosen One in the LAST big budget biblical-based show, Kings. Woo. There was The Aloof And Powerful Mentor, played by fucking Astinos from 300, boy he grew up pretty. There was the Corrupt Politician and the Honest Politician/Nobleman, who was exactly as ineffectual as you might think. The Nobleman's Virtuous Daughter, The Racy Harlot (who is sleeping with the Aloof and Powerful Mentor, because why bother with a whole season of Spocking around when you can just get right to it), the Winsome Waif, the Corrupt Politician's Son who is exactly what you'd expect, both "Dad, Why You So Evil" and "I Will Be Eviler Than My Dad Mua Ha Ha Ha Ha..." ... No, Sebastian Stan did it better in Kings. Which, yes, I am going to compare it to because big budget biblical based show with Chris Egan in it. Chris Egan, who cannot for the life of him play a savior figure because he has the follow-me charisma of a rock. Not even a cool rock, like Gibralter or the Stone of Scone or even the Blarney stone, a beach pebble that gets stuck in your flip flop/thong.

No, actually, I'm not going to compare it because I'm not going to watch it. The only reason to watch it is the Aloof and Powerful Mentor figure, and only because holy shit Astinos grew up pretty.

Right. It seems I have a lot of fiddly things to do at work today, so hopefully I can get writing done between everything. Hopefully I can stay awake enough to do everything with a clear mind. Hopefully I can get shit done? Oh dear god. I am going to collapse at some point this weekend and I only hope I have enough shit done that I don't feel tremendously guilty for doing so. Efficiency will be the watchword of the rest of the week.

( Read more... )

DAMMIT IRISH.

See, this is the problem with trying to learn a language where the dialect/accent changes every ten miles. I'm not kidding, that's an actual linguistic map. So now there's fifty billion grammar and pronunciation rules. Argh.

Speaking of argh, what am focus. On the plus side, I've discovered that taking a loratadine in the morning even during weekdays when I'm not ostensibly around the plants that much? Makes me much more productive in the evenings. I got the garden weeded, the succulent mix mixed (and now I need to mix more oh well), the tomatoes finished tied up, things watered, dinner made, an ant incursion on the cat food dishes cleaned up, cats fed, scooped, a couple places in the house cleaned up, laundry put away, dishes cycled, laundry cycled, um. Plants transplanted. And writing done; in short, a shitload. Way more than I have been since the summer hit. So, yes. Allergies are that bad.

(The hilarious part of this is that another friend is contemplating prescription strength anti-allergy meds, and this is the first year I've taken any anti-allergy meds short of going into a den of strange cats, so apparently this year we have allergens +5? Or something. Epic level allergens. Need extra buffs to defeat.)

Today it at least seems like there's a lot less day jobligations, so we all know what that means, right? Writing! Because joy. Both actual joy and oh god this story will never end I just keep slogging through it why did I even start trying to write this joy.

Things. Stuff. I sent back the rejects from my first StitchFix box today! Two of which were budget rejects rather than eew what the shit rejects, which is a good sign. One of those budget rejects was something the tag called skinny jeans. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't skinny jeans supposed to be form fitting? These weren't! Which I think is good because unless my jeans have a high enough spandex content as to be barely jeans anymore, I do not want form fitting fucking jeans. They can form fit my thighs and that's it. The jeans were also white with do not bleach instructions, which, although I am perfectly willing to disregard laundering instructions as it suits me, that.... no. And then the other non-budget reject was a lovely turquoise top that looked really nice but it lost the coin toss between that and the other top. (The other other rejects were a skirt that barely came to the middle of my thigh and a pair of earrings that, while pretty, covered my entire earlobe and up to the middle of my ear. Comically large. Both, no.)

Okay. Writing. Seriously. Not shopping for bookshelves, not pondering getting lumber to build them, not pondering when and how to persuade the boy to set up the damn saw so boards can be cut to build the damn pressing table so stuff can be stored in the garage to build the bookcases and so on and so forth. (We replaced the porch steps over the weekend, which now results in me wanting to build all the things. Go figure.) Writing and day jobligations. Let's go, self, let's get this moving.

( Русские глаголы )

Okay. Um. ... I think that may have actually gotten easier over time. And then Kiki worked me around to realizing, in her own way, that it's a marathon, Jag, not a sprint. I don't need to be fluent in Russian right now, and it doesn't even need to be as easy as German is. Which is to say, I'm not fluent in German, but everything slots in at about twice the speed as it does for Russian. But none of this need be true right now. Slow and steady.

That said, though, I think ... probably, at least for now, starting at verb conjugations makes sense for constructing sentences, and then when I make mistakes, going back and addressing those errors by repeating the grammar point (noun declining, possessive pronouns) until it makes sense. Lather, rinse, repeat. Also this should probably go in tomorrow's check-in.

I'm warily hoping that things are calming down in my head and out of it now. They seem to be, at least at work. Improvement on one front is more than there was before, at least. And, um. No, I won't re-update just to list off the things I've done in German, so just, smack me if I don't put an ETA here in 6-7 hours describing the German I did? Спасибо.

ETA: Okay, I did about 20 minutes worth of translation, and will do another chunk after I'm done with work emails. Got one line translated into German, at least! Oi, this is slower work than I thought.

( Deutsch )

This just in: Jeff Bridges is beans.

No, seriously. He is. He's all over the place for a while, and then you get used to seeing him and he kind of disappears back into the shadows, lurking. Waiting. Until the day he pops out at you and is right there in your face again. Jeff Bridges is beans.

What? Why are you looking at me like that?

( Deutsch )

And after all that, I did indeed make it to the bank in time to get quarters, though I did not make it home as early as I wanted. Still, laundry has been done, and I actually have clean bras again. I'm sure you all wanted to know that.

God, no, strange person, you will not enable me into doing yet another Big Bang. I will pimp out fantasybigbang to those who wish to do it! But right now there are way too many fucking projects I'm working on for me to even think about doing this. I'm exhausted in the brainpan just thinking about taking on yet another Big Bang. Yes, all of you, I see you eyeing me dubiously and thinking, no, she's going to sign up for it. No. No I will not. Actually I'll probably forget about it until August and then go, wait, wasn't there something I was going to... D'oh! But I am not going to sign up for it.

Although suddenly I have this urge to make the Trans-Siberian Orchestra Big Bang. Except in my world, this involves the World's Biggest Drum Kit and all their fire and Frikkin' Laser Beams.

I'm doing surprisingly well so far on the whole getting to bed on time thing. And putting down the writing on time thing. And getting shit done in general. I eye myself suspiciously, because this cannot last. Still! We shall see. Right now there will be writing a couple more scenes in the Holmes Big Bang and then sending it off to my artist as it is now. She/he/it (she?) already has the outline, so the shape of the plot and the ending is established. Just, today I'm supposed to send the rough draft, so. Here goes.