kittydesade: (put some pants on)
Gaeilge )

I have a kink bingo card! It is a good kink bingo card and a fine kink bingo card and there will be much kink that is bingo'd. I also have shittons of other writing to do, but at least that's churning along relatively quickly? And I get a quasi day off this week, which means I basically get to go in to work and hang out at the front desk potentially costuming, which gives me costuming time and/or writing time. Need to get ahead. Doesn't seem to be happening. Grr.

On the other hand this morning's workout background noise is Tank Girl. I'd forgotten how much I adore this movie. Lori Petty at her wacky awesome best.

And apart from that I'm also watching Poltergeist the Legacy and spending a ridiculous amount of time yelling at the main characters for being idiots and laughing at the whole thing. Oh show. I remember having a thing for the lead male character when I was watching it for the first time, I didn't remember it being that silly. Still, it's good clean fun. The lead is hot, and I have around forty episodes to drool over him with. Possibly soon to be around sixty depending on whether or not I can get the third season. Apparently it's 90s week, now that I think about it.

Right. Today I am attempting to churn out the last two scenes of this week's G&M in the morning, then do edits on Blood in the Gutters all afternoon. Not that hard, yes? I need to do caps tonight, probably will just do a chunk of caps and then start doing the next Person of Interest tomorrow. Haven on the weekends. This is reasonable, right? Of course right.
kittydesade: (occasionally five - jane)
I think there's something wrong with me.

I'm having a fit of wanting to be Yelena. From Transmetropolitan. Those of you who have read it will nod your heads and agree that there definitely must be something wrong with me. Those of you who haven't will have no idea what I'm talking about.

But that's not why I said it.

I'm seriously looking forward to all the DIY shit on my house. And there is a lot of it. Oh, first when we get in there will be unpacking, scrounging around for furniture. And that'll come piecemeal, because we've got the important shit ordered and we've got tables and chairs and we can always go to Habitat or thrift stores, antique stores, for tables and chairs and end tables and things. But after unpacking the first thing will apparently be cleaning the kitchen, scouring it down, floor walls and everything. And then will be painting the kitchen. I'm already having ridiculous amounts of fun looking at paint colors and stains. Painting the kitchen, and sanding the wooden shelves along both short sides of the kitchen because there's a stupid plate-holder bump in the middle, and somehow I don't think they painted under that. Maybe they did, and then painted the plate-holder bump white! I don't know. But right now I'm running on the expectation that there'll be a long streak of wood color in the middle of the shelves once I pry those off, and at that point, sand ALL THE SHELVES! And then restain them. And while I'm doing that might as well resand and restain the cabinets too. And new cabinet knobs if I can find some for relatively inexpensive, because that's about as much as we're going to be able to afford to redo the kitchen for now. Anything more would involve cabinets and a new countertop and that would be freaking expensive.

After the kitchen, after, then we go demolitions on the utility room. I think I've posted pictures before, but there's about a foot or two of painted boards up along the studs of the freaking utility room and then nothing, it's like they kind of half-assedly finished the wall and then ran out of ... something. Energy? Money? If they ran out of money why the hell did they paint the boards? I have no idea. Those come off. And the stupid shelves that make the stairway down to the utility room even more narrow than it already is. The stairs have to be replaced but they have to be replaced exactly as they are now because of the piping, which, eh, okay. Though come to think of it I suppose we could put stairs over the piping... decisions. As long as we didn't cover the pipes entirely, someone working on them would just have to crawl under the stairs. Which they have to do anyway right now. Anyway, the stairs get replaced, those boards and shelves get torn down, the shelves in the wall get torn down, the up-a-ladder loft storage gets torn down because right now it won't hold that much weight, the boy thinks. And all of that gets rebuilt with thicker beams. Insulation along the wall and then it gets boarded up again. And then possibly painted. And that'll probably happen towards January/February and I am looking forward to doing all of it. Why? I have no idea. No, not by myself, obviously not, but with the boy and uncles and aunts and people supervising. And and and. The things I will learn! The fun I will have!

Also clearly I will have to build in cubbies or shelves or something for the cats to hide in. More of them. Because they have been crawling into the bookshelves non-stop since they got emptied. Though, really, there are three cubbies each in the spare rooms upstairs and several shelves in the closets they can jump on/hide in, so maybe that'll do.

Ahem. Mildly irritated by the possibility that I might not have internet to do Haven with this weekend, or at least, not until Saturday. Which is partially a measure of how plugged in I am, but also a measure of how far the blog has come in three months. When we started out we had a few followers, people were interested, and it was fun. And then we picked up some attention from some show writers, an actor or two. And then we picked up some attention from the in-character twitters that we strongly suspect are the Haven showrunners. And then we actually held the attention of the in-character twitters, to the point where they started advertising on fucking Facebook, not as a reply to but as an outright advertisement. And that was two weeks ago, and suddenly now getting the Haven recapalypse out on time is a Thing. A Big Thing. I mean, we're going to put up a note that half of Chandler & Hammett (yes, we went there) is moving house and so the report might be a little late, but it still freaks me out. Well, hopefully they'll get the internet hooked up before then.

And other than that, um. Oh, I bought chandeliers. Which are fucking expensive. And I wanted to keep the goddamn ceiling fan lights. Because those were awesome and had nifty little tinted glass ... whatever you call those things you see in pubs that are often stained-glass. Not quite domes, but something. And everything. But nooo. The plumbers who repiped the house had to yank the damn thing out of its housing and break it, so I have to replace both of the main room chandeliers if I want them to match and fuck them. No further soup for them. But, I bought chandeliers and now I get to argue with the boy over kitchen paint. Kitchens are not for vivid colors! Kitchens are for vivid cooking. Everything else is for vivid colors. Including my damn roman baths. With graffiti. Which I will have. Oh yes.
kittydesade: (facepalm - dean)
Deutsch )

... there was going to be a pile of bitching here about the house buying shit but, really, I don't know anything solid yet and getting tweeted at by Jackie Earle Haley with truly horrible puns makes everything better. I love you, Jackie. Never change.

Ahem. Okay, so, yeah. There's supposedly some things that will cause yet more delays with the appraisal and thus the house buying, but the appraiser says that the house is "habitable though it needs some serious TLC" is the toned down from techspeak version. So I don't know what that means in terms of whether or not the appraiser will sign off on everything, or if they're just saying "Um, dude, this house needs some serious TLC, are they sure about this?" After all these goddamn delays I am about ready to scream at the slightest hint that something might be snagging again. I'm trying to be rational but, people. Please. If I have to submit a detailed report and timeline saying that I will repair the fucking thing and this is my schedule for doing it and this is my estimate of costs and this is the breakdown of every goddamn repair, I will do it. Do not test me.

I might declare for fuck everything takeout tonight. No, I shouldn't, I'll probably end up making, ooh, sweet and sour chicken. That's healthy comfort food. God it's tempting, though. I am so fucking sick of all these delays I'm starting to sound like the fucking McManus brothers. Or a character in fucking Deadwood. (That should be the actual town name, Fucking Deadwood.)

Maybe my journal should start having one of those warnings. "Warning: I say 'fuck' a lot." I suppose I could always change it to 'frak.'

Right. No takeout, going home, doing the thing where I have good, healthy comfort food for a change. Lots of protein, some sugar, some rice. And then writing all the things I'm in the middle of, and more rewriting of BigBang Mixups, and things and stuff. No point in freaking out until I know for sure there's something to freak out about. And calling Mom, because Mom is usually able to make everything better, and in this case she's doing a good job. Except I called her in the middle of both our workdays. Oops.

It's my birthday on Saturday. Can I PLEASE have my house for my birthday? Pretty please? It's not even that it's unpossible, the deal is almost through, it's just taking forever and a data figure. So, please, universe? Can we just finish this up for my birthday? I promise I won't ask for any more marriage equality victories for, oh, two months, at least.

(Though that would be a nice birthday present, too.)
kittydesade: (facepalm - dean)
Gaeilge )

Well that was a little more exciting than I wanted. Last night the skies opened up and we didn't get just rain that time, we got d20 sized hail. And a power outage while I was trying to do my check-in post. So, that was fun! Then I got a couple episodes of Caprica where I wanted to punch a whole lot of people in the face for being stupid.

But, you know, then I got Sasha Roiz being tall and suave and dark and dangerous, and I got a tweet from Jackie Earle Haley, and I got the last major chunk of a story I've been beating my head against for the past week finished, so that was more literal fun instead of sarcastic fun.

Caprica is pissing me off now. Mostly in the sense that it's making me want to learn Ancient Greek. I already have enough goddamn languages floating around in here! I do not need to add Ancient Fucking Greek! Hell, I already have been kind of brushing up on the Latin I used to know just out of watching Grimm, I really, really do not need to learn Ancient Greek. I mean, thinking about it... okay, how many languages am I up to? English, Spanish, French. German, Japanese, Russian. Irish. Arabic. Latin, if I decide to start refreshing. I've already lost count, that's ... seven speaking, eight reading. We're not counting Arabic yet because that is going to go very, very slowly, but still. And now there's Latin and Ancient Greek on the list and my head is going to explode.

(On the entertaining side, I'm getting much much better at being able to toggle through languages that I'm more fluent in, more cleanly and quickly. Memrise is really helping with that.)

Work work work. I have all the incoming today, so there's going to be no writing of meaty stuff at work, but at least I can knock some of the miscellaneous stuff off while I'm at it. Plus a couple of things I meant to do yesterday and couldn't because the power went out. And there's always these short (for me) New Year's Resolution fics in Caprica and Sucker Punch I could finish that have been languishing in process for about a week and a month, respectively. Should be a fun, if busy, day. And most of the Maryland packing that can be done has been done, yay! And I finished weaving! And I almost finished another afghan square! These are going way faster than I thought. Soon I will be INVINCIBLE! Or at least have a blanket. Which is like invincibility.
kittydesade: (to-do list)
Русский язык )

And now I want risotto with garlic. I should make risotto at some point.

There was supposed to be German here but I ated it. Speaking of German, though, I would like to note for those of you who haven't already seen Anna's victory dance all over everything that, yes. It is, in fact, der Verrat in Grimm, and not the Ferrat. It didn't occur to me that it was German until I heard the word in the context of a KMFDM song, but once I heard that it made perfect sense. And once I looked up what 'Verrat' meant (being as a v in the first position of a word makes an 'f' sound) it made even more sense. So, it is 'der Verrat', as confirmed by Monroe and is poor German saying 'the Verrat' in the sneak peak for the upcoming episode and I feel vindicated and smug.

I also feel somewhat more triumphant because, okay, backing up. Yesterday I got an IM from the boy saying that Mortgage Lady 2 had called and reminded us that our awesome rate of awesome expires on Monday. YAY. So I called Realty Lady to find out where we were on the plumbing and thus the appraisal and thus closing on this goddamn fucking house. She said she'd check and call me back. And within about 10 minutes she'd called me back to say that the selling bank is fixing the goddamn plumbing! Not even with an addendum that says we have to pay them back, they're just fixing it! Possibly because they know they can't get it sold without that fixed. Heh. So, the listing agent is arranging that, and judging by the speed with which they got out there the first time hopefully the appraisal can be concluded next week or so? I called Mortgage Lady 2 back and told her, and she said she'd put in for a rate extension and contact Mortgage Lady 1. And today I should actually email the paralegal with a quick update to say things are in motion again. PROGRESS. It's like a miracle.

I watched Caprica last night. Just one episode, but another shirtless Sam Adama episode. The only problem with this one is that he was shirtless during an obviously fairly religious funeral. With everyone else wearing clothing that I can only describe as frum. And my anthropology brain grabbed onto that and was all "WHAT. EVERYONE ELSE IS DRESSED UP. WHY IS HE HALF NAKED." And I then spent the entirety of the funeral scene trying to reconcile the function of semi-nudity and ritualistic tattoos on display with the function of visually conservative, body-covering clothing. And not actually ogling the man I meant to ogle.

Yes, we know I'm weird, shut up.

Right. I have a pile of crap to do today. Mostly non-day-job stuff, but we'll see how crazy the store gets. At the very least I need to check in. Get some stuff written, maybe do some New Years Resolutions, and get some web coding done. Now that BBM's been put off I can just do that as weekend work without hassle, and, um. Squirrels. Does anyone know what the hell happened to Novel BigBang? Did they just vanish into the aether?
kittydesade: (walking on sunshine)
Deutsch )

Apparently the key to quickly enjoying your pomegranate is to paddle it vigorously. Spank your food, kids, you'll be able to eat it easier. Good to know!

I was on it a couple days and then off and now I'm back on Memrise as a way to build up my vocab for German, Irish, and French, and possibly Russian too. Probably Russian. The best way, I guess, is to get on when I'm doing the language lessons anyway and just go over my vocab then. But it's kind of fun. Also they make you write them out, which is good because otherwise I'd just get to knowing the shapes and never get it embedded under my brainskin. This is a new phrase I just made up.

(Relatedly, what the hell is with my typing things the way they sound to me today, which is not at all the way they are in English. Am I having a Spanish brain today? Or just a messed up one.)

Checked in with the boy, Murdock is still lurching and falling over and generally being pissy about the whole thing. Maybe he'll be a little better when I get home. I have to get elbows deep in fiber again, including raw fleece which always makes me think of the sheep crap oil dialogue. Oh Rumple. Oh Carlyle. I want to sit down with Rumple now and have a long talk about spinning and staple and wool and dyes and things and stuff and so on. Just because. Fire ordinances seem to say that we need a permit for any particular outside burning activity we do, although I'll double check that with the local fire marshal and maybe we just need to have them come out once we've got the fire pit all set up and look and go "Yes, you can burn stuff here." Which would be awesome. Oh, and I definitely need to dig out that old email from the city historical commission person and see what that specific thing she suggested I look up in the library was. I want to KNOW THINGS. I want to know ALL THE THINGS.

Ahem. Anyway. Getting elbows deep in fiber, now. And then possibly going home, petting my poor cat, doing a little packing, and reveling in the fact that soon I will be able to spank pomegranates and pound breasts to my heart's content. What? I try not to do these things in apartment buildings where being loud could scare the neighbors.
kittydesade: (affairs of dragons)
Gaeilge )

I have no idea where my Japanese book has gone. This is irksome. I really hope it didn't get packed.

So, it looks like we finally are on for inspection tomorrow morning! At this rate, as much trouble as has been going on, the boy thinks we might have a heffalump instead of a house. I am trying to stay hopeful, but that is not helping. Still. It will be what it is. We have the money for the down payment, we have the money for the repairs we know of so far, and we have the money to get some appliances and some new furniture to replace our falling apart furniture, so if there are no new major repairs, we'll be good. And then it should be smooth sailing from here. I hope. And (I'm fairly sure I said this before) at this point I hope it just so I don't have to fucking deal with all of this anymore, I am behind on shit I want to get done and I want to devote brainpower to something other than house logistics or recovering energy.

Better news. I got an answer to my burning question about Carlyle and spinning last night, which is to say that he has two people to help him during his spinning scenes. They do a pretty good job, from what I've seen! Apart from the weirdass rig of the walking wheel in the most recent scene, which I didn't even touch because I don't know all the ways a walking wheel can be rigged up. He was also incredibly bitey last night. I'm going to put that down to weariness and homesickness from coming to the end of shooting the season and hope it's not a sign of impending Sorcery.

After the bitey wee Scotsman there was Merlin. The 1998 mini-series Merlin with the unlikeliest Merlin ever because I could not then and I still cannot see Sam Neill as Merlin. Ever. But he is the subject of my latest frenzy and I wanted to watch it. I forgot just how utterly hilariously awful that miniseries is. Everyone takes it so seriously! They forget that they should be frothing and chewing the scenery as the over-the-top everything demands. The CGI was... well, okay, it was 1998, so it was suitable to the standards of TV miniseries at the time. And remember. This is the Hallmark Merlin. Adjust your expectations accordingly.

Still the unlikeliest Merlin ever. He wanders around with his pretty blue eyes and long tawny hair (Sam Neill should not ever have long hair. He doesn't have the head for it.) and I just want to pat him on the head and go "Silly wizard. Have a biscuit while Mommy makes it better." That said, now I really want to hear him going "I am SCHMENDRICK THE MAGICIAN." Because he would be so much more suited to it.

Anyway. Hopefully we're coming to the end of the house-buying saga. Hopefully this means I can get the rest of my life in some semblance of order. I'd really like that. Really a lot. At least day job work is cooperating by not being too hectic. So far. I shouldn't have said that, should I. We've had our share of hectic today, we got in and the front registers weren't on, and I had to call the Elf Lord and ask him where everything was plugged into because the wires all ran around the back and I couldn't see a damn thing. Turned out I just had to push the big red button. So at least there was that.
kittydesade: (affairs of dragons)
日本語 )

Gaeilge )

Okay. So, that was a productive evening! And then a very unproductive morning due to the headache that won't leave. Three aspirin later, it still won't leave. Ugh.

On the hilarious side, I may have gotten a little punchy last night with Anna and recast Lion in Winter entirely with Once Upon A Time characters. We had Gold (since it ended up in Storybrooke, matching better) as Henry, Emma as Alais getting foisted off on Graham as Richard or David as John because nobody likes David, but not Stranger!Bae as Geoffrey. Because Alais never got foisted off on Geoffrey. So, something for almost every ship! And that left Regina as Eleanor, which is kind of eh since Regina is about as flat as paper but the concept works, if not Regina's execution. And then we realized we'd forgotten Philip, so we put in the Mad Hatter/Sebastian Stan as Philip, because he can flame deadly really well. Just look at Prince Jack. >.>

Headache still won't leave. This is getting irksome. On the plus side it looks like there's only one thing coming in and one thing going out, so if today does get hectic we should be able to deal with it? Which it might. The Southern Basketball Conference or whatever it's called is here over the weekend. This has absolutely nothing to do with us except that we are literally right down the street from the goddamn arena where it's all taking place, which means massive amounts of foot traffic right outside our door. Hopefully this does not mean massive numbers of people who don't know what they're doing fucking around with our spinning wheels and our looms. I am not in the mood.

Right. Let's get this one thing in the mail and then sit down and get some writing done in the hopes that today will not be as bad as I think it's going to be.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (irksome)
Русский язык )

Yes, still no word. Hopefully we'll hear something today.

Oof. I have all the thoughts and feelings on last night/Sunday nights Once Upon A Time. ETA: Apparently 3500-4000 words worth of thoughts. Firstly, I don't actually believe Rumple was in love with Belle. And the rest of this should probably go under spoiler cuts. )

Well. That got long. Um. No one is obligated to read all of that, or agree with it, it's just that I had some thoughts and wanted to get them out. Apparently I had a lot of thoughts. I am a thinky person! And I probably overthink what I, at least, find to be a badly written show. But there. My thoughts, you can has.

Be assured, there will be a PILE of fanfic coming out of this and other episodes. Still haven't figured out what I'm doing with Ruby/Gold, although this puts a lot of weight behind my idea that he's actually startled that Ruby would attach to him like that. But something from Rumple's deep past will be coming, another chapter of J3, more Plunkett & Macleane, and so on.

Around all the other crap I have to do, there's a WBB thing that needs resolved, I have a pile of work to do for my day job, and house stuff is still lurking behind me waiting to pounce. I have a pile of original writing I also need to get cracking on because last week was not a good week for concentration of any sort, and, well. Things. Stuff. One thing at a time, though. Set 'em up, knock 'em down. Next up, day job work, packing, and a conversation between a profiler/assassin and a hitter/assassin. Because that'll go well.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (lizard)
Right. Arabic accounting here and here, and let's hope that in the coming week I can concentrate better on my language studies than I have the second half of this past week.

I have done so much knitting today internets I cannot even begin to tell you. I got up, looked outside, saw the snow and went back to bed in disgust. And then I got up again, stretched and did my two hours of Arabic, showered, and sat down to watch All The TV and Knit All The Things. I actually got a fair bit done in my placemat, which is called the Peachy Keen placemat (available on the web) and which really needs a better name, and started the Elvish Leaves dishcloth. Because Elvish Leaves dishcloth. I think what I really want to do, too, is get some wool or something and do a blanket made up of smaller squares of those. That might be the third project I get on needles, really.

The Elvish Leaves dishcloths should go pretty quick, though. I mean, I could probably knock one of those off in a weekend, maybe a day if I hadn't spent half of it today doing placemats. And thanks to Anna being an even bigger dork than I was about hope chests for a couple of days... or maybe we're just trading off the hope chest dorkitude... The contents of my hope chest, without further ado! So far, at least.

6 4 placemats 14x??, brown, tan, KY cardinal, Mays 8/4 Cotton Warp
6 placemats 17x??, light sage, daffodil?, peach, Mays 8/4 Cotton Warp
(eventually duplicate in smaller size)
4 3 2 Elvish leaves dishcloths, various colors, Sugar & Cream
Scalloped table runner, harvest color, Brown Sheep Nature Spun?
Scalloped table runner, spring color, Brown Sheep Nature Spun
Elvish Leaves afghan, gray and green/purple? Louet Gems Merino?
Elvish Leaves afghan, green and brown, Louet Gems Merino?
Squares Lap Robe, black and burgundy, Brown Sheep Superwash
Squares Lap Robe, slate blue, Brown Sheep Superwash
Shoe rug, dorm carpet beige
Abundance table runner, harvest color, Cascade 220 Fingering
Abundance table runner, spring color, Cascade 220 Fingering
Yggdrasil afghan, gold/brown? ish
Rag rug from old jeans, if there are enough of them.

And then whatever else comes to mind as I raid Anna's pattern favorites and we trade back and forth and find other nifty stuff. Because we are utter, utter dorks.

Still no word on Old Hotness, but our offer is in. We put in our offer at, basically, $PrancingPony, and I fully expect them to counter considering they were asking somewhere in the neighborhood of $MinasTirith. I'm hoping we'll settle on maybe $TheShire. If they actually accept our first offer I will be utterly shocked. And then do a victory dance all around the neighborhood. And then wait for the inspection to come back with a Ringwraith lurking in the crawlspace, because if they're actually letting it go for $PrancingPony then I have my deep suspicions about what they might know that we don't. Then again, it doesn't actually seem like they know much about the house, being as the bank's located several hundred miles away, it's been through three banks in the last four years or so, and it seems like it's been on and off the market for those four years and no one's bit. Mostly because people see that description and expect it to be a lot more turnkey? Fixed up. Without wallpaper peeling and scratches in the paint and dust all over everything and one of the shutters falling off.

Anyway, it's an REO, and I hear those go by pretty fast. We'll see what happens. We have a thing from the bank, and really good terms on our loan. We have the down payment enough to avoid mortgage insurance. All we have to do is, you know. Get through the offer/counteroffer process, because despite what the listing agent said about there being the "threat" of another offer... three years! No bites! The listing agent didn't even know the conditions under which the house could be inspected when we asked. So. Hopefully that goes by quick, and then we can get on with our lives.

Because really, there's only so long I can go knitting stuff for this hope chest. Also, we have way too much crap in this apartment and every time I think about it, have to clean it, something, all that space we could have with me not having to climb over piles of gaming books every time I want to pick up my damn guitar, it just bugs me. Do you know the size of the kitchen I could have? A kitchen big enough to have a breakfast table in. Not a breakfast nook attached to the kitchen, in the fucking kitchen. I grew up in a galley kitchen, this is the stuff my dreams are made of. Yes, I have banal dreams. Shut up.

Speaking of kitchens, I suppose this means it's time to get elbow deep into raw chicken again. My kingdom for a chest freezer.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (this old house)
Deutsch )

We went to the bank today and came out with a fucking pre-approval letter for the amount we needed. And depending on how the inspection goes, if it turns out to be a house and not a heffalump, we will be calling her and asking maybe to pick up on the way by the bank to the real estate office a pre-approval letter for a more appropriate amount for what we're going to offer. But yes, we are fucking approved. And I have the necessary monies in my hot little account and everything is beautiful. But the waiting is still the hardest part. I've been assured on multiple fronts that probably no one is going to grab Old Hotness in the next two days, before we do. I still dislike the waiting.

But, you know, there it is. And I have my homework for Thursday, which is to say, looking over all the inspection reports I have and taking note of the boojums therein, for although common snarks do no manner of harm, there are the boojums... And, you know, that's why we pay the inspectors.

But yes. I have a pile of excitement, you guys. And on Friday if all goes well and we put in the offer I will tell you straight of Old Hotness and all of its glory. In the meantime, Prop 8's blatant and unashamed unconstitutionality has been re-upheld (which is to say Prop 8 has been deemed Not Suitable for Law) and somehow Bill O'Reilly jumped to our side for a second, which, really? Is it opposite day and no one told me? And I can do my taxes now and it has been largely an awesome day. Except for the whole waking up almost an hour early thing. Now I just have to go home and get some goddamn sleep. And Thursday, ohhh lordy Thursday the excitement happens.

Hopefully, there will only be snarks.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (two in red)
Gaeilge )

Fucking goddamn Sorcerers.

And see, this is why I do rewatch things. 'cause then I notice things. Like how Gold was pointing a gun at someone. Or how I'm pretty sure half the pictures on the wall behind him where he stands are of either his old village or other people's old villages. Or how Gold's limp makes no sense, although that I kind of expected. Actually what it reminds me of is weakness in the leg, in the muscles controlling the knee and so on. Sometimes he holds it stiff because that's the only way he can manage to swing it over things. Like tree branches. And sometimes he just sort of lurches on it because he can't put too much weight on it without it buckling under him. Anyway. Things like that. Like noticing how Rumplestiltskin is spinning on a wheel that we sell in the store and giggling like a madwoman because I know that wheel. (Of course, and then I dig up fan art and they've got him all wrong at the wheel but, well. Spinning wheels aren't exactly common knowledge I suppose.)

Of course, rewatching piles of Robert Carlyle apparently leads to dreams about Rush. Although how it led to a dream about a character from a TV show I've never actually seen I don't know, but I've seen clips of him in that travesty. Also, River innabox was in it. I have no idea but suddenly I'm rather amused by the idea of Rush poking at River nekkid innabox and then Mal threatening to shoot him between the eyes. Rush is, as I understand it, kind of a dick.

Okay, something that doesn't involve Robert Carlyle. Didn't get as much writing done over the weekend as I wanted to but I did get some done, started on the Rumple courting his lady fic and the Plunkett and Macleane sequel and did get a chunk of Long Road pounded out. I am now at the point where almost all my projects on needles are hope chest projects! Which is only a little bit silly. I did some actual resting, too, which was much, much needed and I feel much more energized. I really, really would like to not start off the weekend with my tank that low, though. Please. Is there some way I can get to a point where I'm not constantly catching up only to get piled on with a bunch of things I need to do and collapse at the end of the week again? I'd love that.

Right. One thing after another, setting them up, knocking them down, etc. I have things to do on my organization list and thigns to strike off and things to add, so let's get to it. And for extra badass points, wearing all the guitar picks ever.
kittydesade: (set 'em up)
Русский язык )

So, first I wrote Darcy/Loki porn. Then somewhere last night I was working on my OBB and listening to the Labyrinth soundtrack and realized that I had the perfect idea for Darcy/Loki other stuff. And then this morning it sort of half-landed in my head in large chunks of dialogue. I love it when they do that. Well, no I have a love hate relationship when they do it, but it's always amusing.

Even more amusing that one of the Yuletide main mods remembers me from last year when I did 21 Yuletide stories, half of those at the last minute, in a flurry of MUST. WRITE. ALL. THE THINGS. I actually mostly cleared my schedule this year (apart from Big Bang Mixup which I might have drafted even before that, and Nano) in anticipation of doing the same thing. Because I am a ginormous dork like that. I do need to go back and see what other stuff I have on my list of shit to write after OBB, but I don't remember it being that massive. So. Plus, apparently I've managed to achieve some kind of balance between writing all the things and not writing so much that my head explodes and I have to spend six weeks recovering. At least until the last Yuletide push.

In the meantime, my desk is covered in shit I have to do. It's kind of approaching wife-to-murder Guildor-to-frame-for-it levels. Also, Old and Busted really needs to get its old and busted ass out of here. I'll have to talk with the Elf Lord about that today.

Right. Work to do. Things to do. Set 'em up, knock 'em down.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (morning ugh)
Русский язык )

So, um. This happened. And I have no idea what to make of it except that Tesla's getting way more respect now than he ever was alive, which kind of strikes me as darkly amusing.

I did manage to get the whole damn Horror BigBang posted yesterday! And now I still want to bring not!Tig back to life, argh. I've also discovered that I'm not as confident in my ability to write horror as I thought I was, but on the other hand that was definitely darker than my usual stories, where the good guys win and don't end up ... well, yeah. Screwed might be the word that comes to mind. And today I can concentrate on my Nanonovel and on bashing Pretender Sidhe into shape for posting with Original BigBang. And not being entirely put off by running the government gauntlet again. This is why I hate this shit. It never goes smooth, it's less fun than Malcolm Reynolds' things that don't go smooth, and it always leaves me wanting to throw up all over someone and then punch them. Or maybe in the other order.

Still haven't managed to get graphics done for HBB, but I'll work on those tonight. Debating which recent(ish) show I want caps of Kim Coates from, Dresden Files or the actual thing that inspired this whole damn thing, Sons of Anarchy. We'll see. I've gotten fickle in my old age, first Edge, then a brief stopover at Michael Sheen and now back to Kim Coates. Or maybe not fickle, he's been hovering around here for years. Almost as long as Mark Sheppard, really. Ah, my crushes. Actually, I need some Edge and Kim Coates icons anyway, for when Haven starts back up again and if Tig ever gets a bigger role in this season's SoA. I shouldn't complain but I do anyway.

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (sister salvation)
Deutsch )

Discovered today that one of my new most fascinating actors IS in fact married, which is a pretty impressive feat to have kept it relatively quiet for this long after he got flung into the spotlight. But apparently he is, and happily married, and I still don't understand the fandom attitude that says omg not available? BLASPHEMY I HATE HIM FOREVER. He's happy, that's a good thing, isn't it? Also, he still looks goofy when he smiles big and real like that.

(Also, suddenly I want to see him as a Daddy because it would be all of the adorable. Ahem.)

I also had one of those weird moments today when I realized that no, this actor is not a little young to be married, he's around my age (less a year) and he's probably been married less time than I've been with the boy. And then that tangented into a discussion about how my best friend is not at all younger than me, we're the same age, one of us is just sort of.. time-delayed. And how no one's going to freak out when we're 40, we'll just freak out when we're suddenly dating/married to 40 year olds. Or something. My mindset regarding time and age is very weird.

Oof. I'm being forced to retool my superhero training again, more fine tune this time since it already got retooled for the shortening days. Superhero training ) On the plus side, this ought to hopefully fix some of my current problems. On the minus side, I'm going to have to pay even more attention to getting to bed on time because this means I really, really need to be awake and energized and on top of my game to do all this in the allotted time. And this would be so much easier if I had a wooden studio floor type thing, or even linoleum, but oh well. Superhero training is never easy! Nor dull. Nor quick to see results, oogh.
kittydesade: (sweet pea)
Русский язык )

So, I got an a... you know, I don't think I'm going to air this here. Never mind. Or at least, not that part of it.

But suffice to say that I am so, so sick of the part of fandom that is so strongly focused on slash they will not entertain or consider working with het. Or, even, femmeslash. I am so sick of the attitude that anything that does not involve men is not worthy of time or consideration. It's misogynistic, it's narrow-sighted, it pisses me off. People have their tastes, that's fine, I like the way people move and the way they hold themselves and people who speak multiple languages and play guitar and ride horses. Does that mean I'm not going to read about, or write about at polite request in the appropriate forum, a mono-lingual tone-deaf person who's afraid of animals? No. It means I like musical polyglot equestrians. But when the love story between two women is standing around like the kid no one wants to pick for the baseball team, when I have to wonder if the woman in the threesome relationship I'm writing about will even exist for the people who read it, despite the fact that she's an equal partner with the other two in the relationship? Then I have a problem. Het is not ew. Het is not gross. Women parts are not gross. They might not be to your taste, and that's fine, everyone's different. But don't you fucking dare marginalize it, ignore it, etc. That's just fucking rude.

Nngh. Okay, I had to get that out there. There's a whole lot more to that bitchfest, but I'm leaving it out and trying not to be too violently paranoid about it. I could be wrong. I could end up with someone who enjoys slash but is perfectly willing to enjoy my threesome.

In other news! I was curious and nostalgic about an old AT&T commercial the other day, a montage of which is linked here. There are about four different version, I think. The commercial basically starts off with "Have you ever [futuristic thing here]" and ends with "you will. And the company that'll bring it to you is AT&T." And remembering this, I wondered if all of those things that seemed futuristic and cool then really existed now. And you know what? With the exception of the phone booth thing, all of them do. I think. There was one I'm not so sure about. But we can do all of them. That was 18 years ago. The commercial is from 1993. The children who were born when that commercial aired are legal adults in the United States now. And we have all that futuristic technology. And are looking to add more. I remember this from my childhood, you guys, this was The Future! And now this is the present, and perfectly ordinary. We take these things for granted. Maybe we shouldn't, as much as we do. When you look around, people really are doing awesome things.

And one final thing before I run off to work, Dan Shor is just awesome and lovable and awesome. I've been watching the old Cagney and Lacey show, which is also notable for having Maddie Westen on it all young and hot and giving me massive fits of cognitive dissonance. But, oh lord, Dan Shor, why are you so made of adorable. He plays Det. Jonah Newman in Season 5, he's in most of Season 5, I won't spoil the ending for you but I've already retconned it to suit my fannish adoring needs so there. And he is adorable. He is tiny compared to everyone else in the unit and floofy haired and I want to pick him up and put him in my pocket.

Look! New dragon eggs!

Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (mood indigo)
Hey, look, it's a post with no languages in it!

This is pure, unadulterated awesome. For those of you hesitating over the link, it is a concert performance of the Faeries' Aire and Death Waltz. You know, that piece of music that includes frogs and dirigibles and release the cattle and god knows what all else. Play Like A Rolling Stone was included in there somewhere. Apparently, this guy did a fair bit of this. I am laughing my cute little ass off, I tell you. Laughing.

So, I don't find Jeff Bridges that sexy. I mean, yeah, I can appreciate that he's good looking, but as a ooh grabby hands drool drool type, he doesn't do it for me. Give me Bruce Boxleitner any day.

But apparently? Put a guitar in that man's hands and my knees go to butter. And I can't stop staring. And this started, mind you, before I ever actually heard him sing or play guitar. Which I kind of want to now. I have some songs from Crazy Heart, so I'm not entirely bereft. But damn. I'm not sure if it's a strange button or a predictable one.

Yesterday, I didn't get as much accomplished with the art and the icon making as I wanted to. Not as efficient with my time, didn't at all get around to painting (eh, tomorrow), but I got some idea of what I was doing and I still have the rest of tonight. Today? I was a domestic Goddess. I made two steaklets, a pile of chicken, bread, cleaned the living room, cleaned the kitchen and organized the goddamn cabinets so that I have some idea of what to do with the two tins of peaches and one of pears (pears? really? wtf was I thinking) and so that the FOUR FREAKING BOXES of penne noodles are where I can reach them, so I don't keep thinking we don't have any and then suddenly we have four boxes. I made two loaves of bread, and I made honey butter in little pats shaped like roses and leaves and shells. Because this is why I am a domestic Goddess. To make little delicately shaped pats of honey butter. Shaddup.

Oof. The Domestic Goddess is tired. The Domestic Goddess is going to spend the rest of her night writing and doing the tags she should have done two days ago whoops.
kittydesade: (komm zu mir)
Deutsch )

... I'm going to deal with the Fragen from last week's wall o Deutsch tomorrow, I think. Too little time to go over it today.

I made a friend! Via [personal profile] lireavue, who did indeed keep throwing me links to the poor woman's journal until ka connected us. Go on, say it twice, you know you want to. The whole thing terribly amuses me, though. Hi new friend! I am prone to fits of hyper, post usually three times a day during a weekday with a different language each behind a cut that I'm studying, tend to ramble about either my writing or my arts projects, occasionally post links of randomness that amuse me, and take fits of political activity that usually die out when it turns out only a few people are as frothy at the mouth as I am. My userinfo, while out of date, is probably also still fairly representative. I never consider myself interesting and it always surprises me when people think I am.

So, yes! This happened. And about ten other things at once, too. Fortunately I managed not only to check in at Courtesan School, I also managed to update my writing schedule and my iSis with other stuff to do, so that when my brain finishes leaking out of my ears I can actually look these things up and remember what the hell I was doing. Because I am so very bad at that after I take these fits of hyperactivity. I'm not entirely sure if I should be worried about this fit of hyperactivity and on the lookout for a downswing, but I think it's mostly just due to everything happening at goddamn once. I swear, today's been that day where it's quiet for two hours and then all three lines ring at the same damn time.

(I swear a lot, too. Periodically.)

I'm sure I had something more interesting to go here, but now it's gone completely out of my head. Self, remember these things that you were going to do tonight: Steak and corn/other veggies for dinner, which is easy because it's mostly cooked already, Japanese, guitar, and then poke the writing schedule. Do not attempt to tackle any other projects until the weekend, even if you conceived of twenty of them today. Today is for just getting your weekday stuff done, and if you try to do ten things at once they will all be unfinished and you will be sad.

I think this is one of the things about being able to hit my limits and back away from them subsequently. I've realized (even if occasionally Kiki or someone needs to sit on me about it) that I've about hit my limit of things I can manage at once. This massive workload of writing crap, three languages, exercise, music, etc, and that's about as much as I can juggle in my life. It's good! It's a good thing, because I know I CAN. If I drop something out and replace it with something else, I know I can sustain it. The only problem is when I decide I've got fifty bright ideas and want to do all the things right the hell now. See: my brief flirtation with OMG I COULD PICK UP SINGING, TOO. No, self. No you can't. Not until some of your writing projects go bye bye. Mm, next year maybe I'll explore doing shorter writing projects and more non-writing projects. Or... something, I don't know, I'll see what happens next year!
kittydesade: (occasionally five - jane)
Body, I am disappoint.

So, yeah. There was no language yesterday because I was sleeping off one of those head colds that blows up your sinuses like little snotty balloons inside your face, presses against your teeth and your orbital sockets, and generally makes a misery of your life. Not quite to Oscar Wilde die-and-your-face-deflates proportions, but close. There will be no language today. Instead you get two rambles.

One, Neil Gaiman is awesome. I know, I know, and water is wet, but he really is awesome. I was rereading an old Nano pep talk of his earlier today (found here) and got to the part about his agent's response to his dire predictions of how terrible the novel would be and no one would want to read it, and about pissed myself laughing. Because I do that. And then my friend take's the agent's role of oh, you're at that part are you? And then sometimes my friends do that and I take their role. And it becomes ten times funnier when you're outside of it and watching it happen to other people. Particularly published writers. Double particularly with extra bonus whinging points when it's immediately post-rejection letter I mean what are you talking about. Ahem. I'm not thinking about that because I'm doing well and it didn't happen and I have other projects to work on anyway. Like self-publishing. Gleep.

So, Neil is awesome. Also because he got Adam Savage and Gollum on the phone with Gollum singing I Will Survive. No, really. It happened. It's like a bunch of fangirls, and not even LotR or Mythbusters fangirls or anything, just generic fangirls if such a creature exists, got together at 2 in the morning with the possible addition of margaritas and started talking. And then it actually happened.

Ahem. Two, is that the internet does really fucked up things to language. It's like the port city phenomenon where you have half a dozen different major languages, twice that many dialects or dialect groups, all smashed together into five or six different trade pidgins. Only faster. And bigger. The language shifts are, I think, faster. The colloquialisms change faster. There's more niche subgroups that use certain words, some of which migrate, so I guess that's a little like dialect drift, isn't it? Which means you then get people like Rachel Maddow sniggering endlessly over the Teabagger movement because they didn't know what teabagging meant to a small section of the populace. And suddenly now it's popular lingo. Or maybe popular isn't quite the word to apply to the use of 'teabagging' in that way, but you know what I mean. At least I hope you do. It's lonely down here in the gutter.

Anyway. This ramble about internet and linguistics brought to you by speculation on whether "I am amuse" is the correct opposite of "I am disappoint." (The answer is, it's "I am excite.") I don't even know where "I am disappoint" came from. But I know what it means.

In other news, I have somehow ended up co-modding [community profile] witchesbigbang. Fear. And then join. But mostly fear.

For Misha

Jun. 8th, 2011 03:04 pm
kittydesade: (angel punch)
Don't mind me, just note-taking in between destryoing my cuticles and packing stuff for work.

Я говорю плохо по-русски
Изучаю дома.
Мой испанский язык лучше мой русский.
Когда я была маленькая, моя фамилия говорили английски и испански дома.
Извините, я говорю на шести языках/владею шесть языками. Sometimes, I get confused. (This is probably going to happen a lot as I bash languages together. Jag, "ima" is Japanese, not Russian.)
Я люблю заниматься/я люблю изучать языкы.


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