Warhead On Legs

( Русский язык )

I wonder how long I can say "fuck this exhaustion shit" and make myself going out of sheer stubborn. Mostly because I wonder how much of this being tired is lack of momentum and how much is latent stress from the house buying process churning along at the speed of Arctic molasses and not being able to do much about it. It's possibly the latter, but just in case it's the former, fuck this exhaustion shit. Time to keep moving.

I see the Dragon*Con guest list has hit the point where it's going to keep expanding until people start cancelling.

Oh, right! booknerdguru gave me thinks to talk about in that I love libraries meme. So here we go.

faeries I have had the Katherine Briggs since I was a very wee girl. So there's that. No, I love faeries, faery stories of all kinds, I write a few myself. I'm not sure what in particular appeals to me so much about the concept of faeries, and it's not just the pretty skinny people with wings. Maybe the idea that all the old stories we used to tell ourselves are true. That there's magic in the world, maybe it's just that simple. I have no idea. Faeries of all kinds amuse and intrigue me. Currently I'm writing two stories involving faeries, one urban fantasy and one sort of historical fantasy involving that big lug there in the icon. I love them both to pieces.

hockey ... It exists? And Taylor Kitsch used to play. And this is the extent of my knowledge.

most useful thing/resource you found lately Hrrm. I'm trying to think what useful things or resources I've found lately. Probably Memrise is the most latest, it's essentially a giant flash-card type web page and I use it to expand my vocabulary of languages. All of them. Except English. And Spanish. And Japanese because I can't toggle easily to hiragana. But Irish, French, German, and Russian I am learning all the vocab ever and it is actually really fun. They've got the timing down so that first you see the word and its meaning/translation, then you get to pick the right word out from a bunch of other words in both directions, Language-to-English and English-to-language, then eventually it comes down to they provide the English and you provide the Other Language. And if you fuck up a word too many times it goes back to pick the right word out from a bunch of other words.

It has this whole garden metaphor that's kind of amusing. You get seeds (new words) that you can put in your greenhouse (short term memory) and then you harvest them and move them into your garden (long term memory) where you have to water them still periodically but not so often. Anyway, I find it fun! And very useful with all the languages. There's a few other things than languages, but I haven't gone into there and have no idea how well or poorly it's organized. The only problem I have with it is that it's basically a wiki, which means sometimes you get long piles of vocab lists, and it's hard to pick which one is best for your purposes or learning level.

spinning We've sold spinning wheels and spinning stuff for as long as I can remember, but recently I actually learned how. Finally. It's simple to learn but not easy, the mechanics of it are simple but then there's a lot of practice getting your hands and feet to coordinate properly and learning, mostly by touch, how hard to hold or when to keep your fingers loose and which fibers do what. It's a lot of fun for me, although right now most of my stuff is packed up because of the potential move and the alleged house. Still, I like it because it's very easy to fall into a rhythm and let your mind churn over other things. Or I can watch TV or listen to music or audiobooks while I spin. I really want to get into the new house and set up my wheel (I will have a CRAFT ROOM HAVE I YET MENTIONED HOW AWESOME THIS IS) so I can spin some of these fibers, too. I have yak, angora, banana fiber, and camel down all waiting to be spun into something interesting. And recycled sari silk. Seriously, you can spin so many cool things.

mythology OOF. Big topic is big. Um. Speaking generally, I've always been fascinated by mythology; I had Bulfinch's, as a kid, in addition to the fairy books. Although it actually ties into the faerie stories, I guess, because I also had books of Russian and Ukranian folktales, other folk stories I have no idea where they came from. The one about the Golden Conch. I love telling stories; mythology feeds into that. The way it affects and describes a culture, the way it's repeated over and over again, old stories becoming fresh. How it affects us, how we affect our own mythology, some stories coming out of fashion as values change, and so on. Fascinating stuff.

carolina history If this house stuff ever goes through I'll end up being a part of it, in my happy shiny antebellum house. I don't know much of the book history but there's a lot of the oral history around here, people who grew up in the mountains, whose parents and grandparents lived around here. I remember when I first moved down here there was a woman came to a downtown small theatre place who did some storytelling, old histories of old families. I find the oral histories way more fascinating than these battles happened here, this law was passed, the tobacco fields were planted and these big companies moved in.

favorite music ... Oh so much. I think there are only a few categories of music I don't listen to widely: current bubblegum pop, rap, and country. Which is my favorite varies from day to day and mood to mood.

( 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?

( Русский язык )

I don't even. So, yesterday I get a couple of emails that basically amount to we might not be able to complete the appraisal because of the problems that need to be fixed. And the selling bank isn't going to fix it, and apparently there is an exception paper that could be written out but everyone has to talk to someone else and check and can't this just be fucking over with already? I'm not even sure what I can do about it, everyone has to talk to everyone else today and then get back to me. I put all my mortgage ladies in contact with my realty lady, so hopefully that can get untangled today. Right now ...

Fuck Everything, Half-Naked Sasha Roiz forever.

No, okay. Right now things are happening at an incredibly fast clip, but at the moment it looks like I can get an estimate of the repair in writing from the plumber I contacted and brought out to have a look, and there's a new contact person at the bank who isn't a fucking moron. He says he might be able to get them done. I'm hoping he can because this is about to drive me homicidal or something.

Right. Nothing more I can do unless I really want to make a pest of myself calling people every half hour or so. I hate it when there's essentially nothing I can do except beg, plead, and throw myself on the mercy of other people whose job it is to keep an eye on the bottom line. I really hate that bottom line shit. I mean, I understand it? I just don't like it. But I have other shit I could get done right now, so. Come on, Jag, let's do the other shit.

I did see some interesting survey about racial self-identification of hispanic peoples on US census things. It made me wonder a little, am I a second generation immigrant if only one of my parents immigrated? (And, for that matter, did my biodad immigrate or was he a second-generation immigrant himself? It's one or the other, I'm sure.) Does it count if he is only my biodad and my actual Dad who raised me was born and raised in the States, himself? It's funny because these aren't questions I ever think about, myself. I am an American. Whether I'm being patronized and treated as, for lack of a more accurate term, a fellow white person who can reach out to those "hard-working Mexicans" (and 6-7 years later I still remember that fuckhead) or whether I'm being looked down on as someone who belongs with the hired help, I am still an American. It's never occurred to me to define myself otherwise. If I have to self-identify as one race or another, I'd probably pick white maybe 40% of the time and hispanic the other 60%. Depending on whether or not I think it'll lead to me getting treated badly by police, shafted for a job or a place in a school, depending whether or not I can tell the person means I feel like a part of this group or that group... depending on a lot of things. Racial identification isn't something I think about a lot, either. Not until someone asks me. Which is more of a class and geographic luxury than anything, really, due to where I grew up and live now.

Anyway. I swear, my next entry will be kittens and bunnies and something fluffy to break from all these heavy thoughts. Pictures of hot men. Something. I am so tired and suddenly all the plans I had for the rest of ever are back in a state of tremendous flux. Okay, not all the plans, but a big chunk of them. At this point it's not even maybe losing the house of awesome that irritates me, it's the lack of certainty. I want to go home and curl up and sleep, and I can't.

Right. Shut up and soldier, soldier. I have filing I can do, writing, editing, I have German I can do if I get desperate for stuff to do, I have word gardens I can plant. There are other things I can do while I wait for word to come back, so let's get on and do them. (Also at some point I really should start writing my own Russian things. At some point.)

( Русскйи язык )

Oof. Headache. Fucking shark week.

So, yes, all the paperwork is in, we're working on insurance, we got a quote that seems reasonable and we're slowly collecting a couple more. The boy is working on the heater problem, which at least isn't something we'll need before we move in, and I'm collecting quote on electric and masonry. Or I would be if anyone would ever get back to me.

It's funny how things are suddenly moving along now. Funny and exciting. We'll get the plumber back in, get the electrician in and get the mason in to do the steps. Maybe try and schedule the plumber and the mason for the same day and I can sit around and knit and take measurements and just take the day off work and get that done. The electrician might have to go around the same places the plumber would and scheduling two contractors to step over each other while they work doesn't seem right to me. Eeee so excited.

It's spring, which to my body seems to mean EAT ALL THE FRUIT. Fortunately I work a few blocks down from a farmer's market type stand in a downtown mall, so if I have a few bucks in my pocket and a few minutes to walk up I can go grab a couple apples and oranges, which I did yesterday. Om nom apples.

And, um. No, really, that's it. House stuff, slowly getting back on the horse with languages and exercise, next week scaling up to more things. Working on writing, getting back to life routines in a way after everything went to House Logistics. ... I'd swear there was something else I was thinking of, but I can't remember it now. My word gardens are growing? My forget-me-nots, not so much, but I don't know how long it takes them to sprout anyway and it's only been ... four days? I think. Anyway. We'll see!

( Русский язык )

Well, that went better than expected. I told the boy what the plumber told me when he woke up, and what I'd found out. He then said "Dammit! I hate working on incomplete data" and I womanfully refrained from throwing something at his head because that's what I've been saying this whole time. And the only deadline was losing our earnest money deposit, which wouldn't matter if we found out that we did want the house anyway and if we found out that we didn't, I at least would consider it money well spent.

But, anyway, he is now on board for what we are currently paying or less, if the bank blinks first. Which means that if this does pan out I need to wrangle yet more logistics, oh fun. But at least I get to take my box of paperwork out of my bag! YAY.

BOO. Chrome, stop crashing, I know I need to reboot the damn thing.

There. I've emailed the Realty Lady and asked what the worst case scenario is, and had my little gigglefit over the front door of Old Hotness. Basically it's kind of scratched up and sad looking, though still solid. So maybe we'd sand it a bit and repaint it. Now, this door is currently red. But all the shutters on the outside are black. So, being a classic rock fan, you see where I'm going with this? Cue the Rolling Stones. I swear, if this works out I will do some kind of time lapse video of painting the damn door and set it to that song. It will be hilarious.

... No, I'm an idiot. I'm probably not going to hear back from Realty Lady today, she's got a Thing of Thingness that takes precedence. All right then, focusing more on getting back into routines and not thinking about Old Hotness for a little while. Apart from knitting on the hope chest, which is less about Old Hotness and more about yay home ownership.

( Русский язык )

Well, that was a little terrifying. We were going over the bank paperwork the other night and on the mortgage application there was a credit card debt listed to the Bank of Assholes (no, I don't like them, why do you ask) with a partial number so we couldn't even look up and see what the hell it was. Cue lots of snapping, mostly from the boy to me until I stomped on his foot and told him to quit it, and then a couple of cranky phone calls to the BofA. And then this morning we finally get ahold of his parents and it turns out it's theirs and not ours. What it's doing on our mortgage application I have no idea. His credit card also turns up twice. He has one credit card. We each have one, actually. And, actually... oh, never mind, I'll just pay that one dollar charge when I get the bill, it shouldn't be more than a day or so till the paper mail catches up anyway.

So, that happened. And then I ended up going to the bank when I should have been doing German, and at least I got the mortgage paperwork turned in. There's only one thing left to turn in that was sort of a last minute thing, but that's just "type up an explanation, sign it, scan it, email it." And then I got a call from Realty Lady saying that the bank was turning everything on and they just now discovered that the fucking boiler didn't work. Because they're incompetent douchebags who couldn't be bothered to investigate this four fucking weeks ago when they knew someone wanted to look at, inspect, and likely buy the house. They're getting bids on it now, and they ... ugh, I can't even. So pissed off. So. Very. Pissed.

I kind of want to go back to them and be all "SO. Want to revisit that earlier offer of $Shire now that the house needs a new goddamn boiler?" Incompetent sheepfucking douchenozzles. I want that house. I also want them to do the damn work they said they were going to do, which involved making sure the goddamn heat worked. They said that.

I'll stop abusing italics now.

( 日本語 )

( 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.

( Русский язык )

Today, it's mind your genders day! Genders of words, that is. Ah well, that's one more step closer to Carnegie hall.

Yeah, and then I woke up about 20 minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off full of house excitement. This is a poor way to anticipate something that's nowhere near certain yet. Bad emotions. Or backbrain. Or something. Do as I tell you to! (Since when have emotions ever done that?)

Oof. I feel a little less frazzled. Though I did just realize I have absolutely no idea how much I have in my mutual funds off the top of my head. I really should if I'm going to report that shit. I'll have to dig through all that paperwork this weekend. Or tonight. Or something. Some time before my bank appointment. Of course then I spent about thirty minutes discussing finances with the boy, which is not at all like relaxing, but at least we figured out a couple of things. Or at least reinforced a couple of things.

If I make it out of the house with everything I need in my bag or in my pockets it will be a damn miracle. Oi, so scattered.

( Русский язык )

Well, that's part one of finance crap done. Apparently my credit is Really Damn Good! Not quite as awesome as the boy's but still really damn good. Hopefully it's good enough for us to get a decent rate on a fixed-rate mortgage that will cover our prospective houses; we're seeing more houses this weekend and slowly moving forward with that. Slowly and cautiously. I'm trying to be cautious about it, I hit the point where last night or the night before I had weird half-awake anxiety dreams about the whole damn thing. Ugh.

... No kidding, a guitar pick just dropped out of the sky and onto my hand. Well, out of the apartment and onto my hand. Probably it got knocked down from wherever I'd last put it, but, really, this is what it's come down to. Random guitar picks materializing. Part of me wants to be all "Yay I have musician cred" and part of me is going "GODDAMMIT GUITAR PICKS EVERYWHERE."

Blargh. I'm sure I had more to say here. We saw Formula 51 last night, aka The 51st State, aka Samuel L Jackson innakilt and Robert Carlyle as the Wee Dippy Football Hooligan. With the soul patch. There was much giggling, especially when a Felix DeSouza seemed to launch himself straight at one part of the collective brain. I await news of his demise by being chewed up and spat out by one of the other brain denizens any hour now. But yeah, that happened, and I even got a bit of writing done on things I actually should get writing done. And then tonight, posting for drafts to be turned in of things for WitchesbigBang and oh crap. Have to figure out how that's going to work with artists stuff and things, and who sends the rough draft where.

Oh, hey, I found where the guitar pick came from. Still doesn't explain how one of them fell on me.

Urgh. I need to get shit done and my brain is too scattered to get shit done. I do not like this state of affairs. I guess this means it's time for the set 'em up knock 'em down mindset, do one thing, get it done, go on to the next. I just wish I were more on top of things, though. Or maybe I just wish that I felt like I was more on top of things. Stop it, self, you are exercising, studying Russian or Irish, making healthy lunches and going to work relatively put together, doing work, eating a healthy lunch, doing German, doing more work, getting writing done, coming home, doing guitar practice, doing Japanese, cooking healthy dinners, and going to bed at a reasonable hour. You are still juggling all of this and finding time to goof off and watch wee football hooligans. That is really damn put together. So chill.

( 日本語 )

( Русский язык )

FUCKING B7 CHORD.

Other than that, Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye is a pretty easy song, really.

Every once in a while I think Sherlock is right, and I want to cock my head at people and ask Dear god, what is it like inside your funny little brains? It must be so boring. Getting into all the myriad sources of this over the last 24 hours would take too long. But really. Is it nice in there? Peaceful, quiet?

As far as yesterday's kerfuffle I have decided that rather than be irritated by someone who doesn't know how to hold himself proper to the pose/stance/movement, I'm just going to use this to remind myself that if I want to kick that much ass, I have to work for it. And be more efficient at my workouts. Hip-drops hip-rolls kicks of various kinds chest and shoulder isolations back straight tailbone tucked soft knees aligned body parts. And just from being irritated over all of this has made me hold myself better, so something positive there. Just because it can be done doesn't mean it should be done casually, improperly, or in a vacuum.

... Although dancing in zero-g would be kind of sweet. I think. There, I cannot say, having never tried to.

It's a bit like me saying no one can bend their fingers proper to a B7 chord, when probably a few hundred guitarists do it every day, just because I haven't practiced properly to do it. Even if it is a fucking annoying chord.

And god knows there are covers and comics and other drawn images of people that defy the laws of nature and create ridiculous expectations in people about their bodies. Those would make great examples for such an article. I would be much happier if people would use them instead.

There was a question in here about the "Canadian shack" explosion I saw all over network and then I decided I was better off not getting involved as far as saying things with words. I did do some reading and some digging, and now I'll be over here working on my now much delayed SPN fic and other stuff.

Also, if you know me and Anna together at all and in any way, go read this. Seriously. This shit is old and tired and people need to stop fucking hurting my friend.

I am crawling under the internet and not coming out for a few days.