Warhead On Legs

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I got headphones today! And Thor. But mostly, headphones! Which means I can practice all the guitar I want, at any hour of the day I want, and not bother anyone! This makes me so happy you guys I cannot even. All your chords are belong to me.

I am deeply, grumpily uncomfortable with the system with which we conduct a death penalty case in this country. I also have enough issues with the justice system as it is in this country to fill at least a 15-page essay, so that is all I have to say about that, here.

Checking in occurred. Why is it not Friday yet, again? Cleaning did not occur on account of having dinner and getting headphones, but it really needs to. At least my radius and my guitar corner needs to migrate somewhere that is not in front of the gaming books. Or the gaming books need to migrate. Something. Maybe I'll re-organize this weekend, since the boy will be out all tomorrow evening. Maybe I'll consult the boy on what he wants to do. I also need to, again pick up the craft room. Which mostly consists of packing up my costume parts, admittedly, since they all just got sort of tossed into the doorway.

I'm too tired to be eloquent tonight. If anyone has a language they want to weigh in on here with the issue of names, polite phrases, and so on, feel free! This is the sort of thing I think about in my spare time, folks. That and Hey, those were the first couple notes of Little Green Bag, I bet I could pick that out on the guitar. Why no, I have no life.

No, wait, fuck that. I have a life. I have a rich and full life in which I hold down a job that helps pay for the rest of it, a budding career as a rock star fairy princess, SEVEN languages running around in my brainpan, a damn good writing career so far and a lot of novels under my belt, and a number of craft related hobbies at which I do not suck. I like my life. Fuck this "I have no life" shit, I have a damn good life. It just takes me some very strange places very quickly, if only in my head.

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My boots are still the badassest.

And I'm going to start trying lace knitting on Monday. This is ... well, apart from being somewhat nervewracking, it'll definitely distract me from my submissions being considered. And whatever uncertainty I might be feeling about my writing and so on. Augh panic. I'm having that feeling again, the one that says I don't actually know what I'm doing and how the hell would anyone think I do, why would anyone publish this crap I put out. I hate that feeling. It needs to go away now.

Well, I have knitting. Finishing Black Ice, trying not to twitch when Scott Glenn shows up on Bourne Ultimatum after the last thing I saw him in was Sucker Punch playing the wise old mentor, plinking on my guitar. At least my guitar loves me. And I can see and hear myself getting better and faster at it, so there's that. Rarr, wolves and brainweasels, I stomp all over you. With big stompy boots. (And possibly I need to go to bed early tonight anyway.)

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After yesterday's rant of cranky-Jag-is-cranky, we need some positivity.

Baby dolphin saved after dumped in rice field by tsunami. Say it with me now: Awwwwww!

Man successfully casts: Breath Water (component: scuba gear) and rescues wife, mother, and fellow citizens from tsunami in Ishinomaki, Miyagi Prefecture. Bad. Ass. (This article does not at all conform to journalistic standards.)

And, ( Kitty pictures: Murdock )