Warhead On Legs

( 日本語 )

( Русский язык )

The bizarre and confusing ways in which my body sheds fat, gains muscle, and generally changes its shape never cease to amaze me. By way of a fer instance, nothing between about my clavicle and my hips wants to change shape. Ever. It is STUCK THAT WAY. Likewise nothing from about an inch below my shoulder joint to an inch or so above my elbow wants to change shape significantly, although I know I'm building muscles because I can do more push-ups. I can do more crunches, I can lift more, I can do X pose for a longer amount of time, etc. And I can see my thighs slimming somewhat, I look in the mirror and I can see things happening to my neck and shoulders, and it's just overall weird. Bodies, I swear, how do they work.

Well, and on the other hand it's only been about a week and a half since I picked up my normal exercise and food routine again, and the first few days of that are always shaky, so continued improvement probably won't start happening again for a bit. But it still confuses me. That's not even getting into the weird shit that happens every month, ladies, you know what I mean.

Right. Everyone, this is possibly the most terrifying Criminal Minds anything anyone has ever come up with. Made by the cast. All of whom have far too much time on their hands.

Someone claimed my OFBB! Yay! Now I just have to get off my lazy ass and polish it up and finish it. Because damn. It needs polishing. It's a good story, but goddamn the parts of it need polishing so bad it's not even funny. Still amused that it's kind of an alien invasion post-apoc story, though. Especially from the point of view of the fae. I wonder if anyone's ever actually done that before. I'm almost certain someone has to have, but damned if I can think of where or who.

( Deutsch )

( 日本語 )

Hopefully today I can do all my things and not pass out at a stupid early hour.

Well! That's a nice pile of crap on my to-do list that is rapidly coming my to-done list. A lot of what's left is writing, which, I should work on my schedule tonight now that I've done my check-in post. Yes. Especially with the having Big Bangs coming up.

Actually doing my check in post made me realize how many irons I'm going to have in the fire coming up. Which is a little daunting. I already kind of feel like my head's going to explode with all the projects I'm working on. And on the other hand, it's all kind of variations on a theme. I have costumes to build for Dragon*Con. (Seriously, I always do.) I have writing crap, other miscellaneous crafty crap, music crap, and languages crap. And it's all variations on that theme. Lather, rinse, repeat, I just have to make sure that the process of breaking it down into smaller, more consumable chunks doesn't trick me into thinking that I have way more projects than I actually do. And if I can find a way to streamline stuff, so much the better.

Still a lot of crap to do. Augh. Slowly becoming less crap to do, but still a lot of everything. Of course, then instead of doing anything I actually have to do I made icons. So, here! Have two Peter Burke icons, same cap different text, because that expression was priceless. And some Sucker Punch Fight like a Girl icons. Because they turned out really really well.





And now I'm really going to go write. Random note for my beta team! In the interests of not cramming it all in at the last minute because there is no way I'm going to get frillions of scenes done in the next 2 days, if you want to beta my Novel Big Bang you might as well get started now, and I'll toss in scenes as I finish them? It's all outlined at the end anyway, and if there's stuff I need to resolve or guns that haven't gone off, hey, I can write it in as I write! Because apparently I have a problem getting my guns off. Hee hee hee.

( 日本語 )

I have mirin and a bamboo mat and nori and a fierce desire to start making my own sushi. Unfortunately I do not have the knowledge to make my own sushi. I'm sure the internet does, though. And books. Books are useful. If anyone wants to rec a title or a website that would be lovely, otherwise I will trundle over to either the library or the bookstore and occupy a bench for a short while. Or I might actually attempt to read that Japanese cookbook I have. It's in German.

Go on, picture the catastrophe that could ensue. I'll wait. And giggle.

Oof. Pleased, rather, that I've got help on the link roundups, although I could use one or two more hardy souls. I'm really disappointed in, oh, everyone. This isn't the country I signed up for. On the plus side, we're slowly becoming a decently organized team as far as getting information goes. On the other hand, if we were to add budget fuckery in general and How The Middle Class Is Getting Screwed to the list, we'd need at least double the news crew. And possibly a dedicated journal. The idea is actually kind of appealing in that I should never ever do this way.

I could also use another filthy assistant at least. The procedure is pretty simple and right now it's me, Anna, and two others. Spend about 30 minutes on this in a 24 hour period, much more and we might all go nuts. Take three states from the unclaimed list (it's in the gdoc). Collect somewhere between 2-4 links, toss them into the g-doc in their state, alphabetized, and add a 1-3 sentence summary. What kind of summary? Think, the opening paragraph of a news article. Action taken, agent of action, recipient of action, location. And then you're done. I'll be collecting it all and posting it around 10pm EST when it looks like it's gotten big enough, and aiming for 3x per week. It may end up being more depending on how much fuckery is going on. We're aiming for collective bargaining rights fuckery, although we'll accept turning a state into a dictatorship fuckery. Michigan, I'm looking at you. You can PM me or poke me via comment or email if you have my email (or the LJ email works too), or talk to lireavue.

Also, I'm Yelena. This pleases me. Even if I did sleep with Spider Jerusalem.

( 日本語 )

Killing everyone. Everywhere. Ever. Or probably just this one person, but still. My god I'm so tired. I still haven't fixed y Russian and it probably won't get fixed until tonight. I just want to curl up under the blankets and sleep for a week.

( 日本語 )

Not even Liam Neeson is enough to quash my flail today, I think. Argh. Apart from the fact that phone calls today have been complicated and some full of unnecessary flail (made unnecessary by many factors, not just the people on the other end) I mailed off the letter of terror. And now I am trying to put it as far out of my mind as possible because, really, the odds of me getting a response are pretty damn slim. This is the actor I mentioned some days ago who liked my shoulder puppet? At least I gave him information on where to find a gryphon puppet like mine. If he gets to read it. ... Does anyone write fanmail anymore? I don't know, but the whole thing makes me incredibly jittery. I have to keep reminding myself that actors are not, in fact, the opposite of people, as Stoppard would have it. They are people too. Of course, that just leads to the twin flail of 'He has VIDEO OF ME?' and 'what if he DOES write, what will you do then, huh?' The obvious answer to the second one being, well, write back and say hi, but... Feh. My brain, it is nuts, let me show you it.

It's also probably an excuse to procrastinate editing. I hate editing. With the fires of a thousand giant suns. Which are not masses of incandescent gasses, but ... oh, never mind. You see? This is exactly what my mind's been doing all day, leaping from topic to topic like a frog on a buttered skillet, refusing despite my best attempts at begging or bribery to settle on anything. Even Liam Neeson and his cerulean fucking blue eyes. Which will keep me from writing copious amounts of new!A-Team porn, but doesn't help me get anything else done. I suppose I could do physical work, except it's slowed back down to a crawl again.

I need to be zen, and it's not happening. I'm all out of fruit, Charlie. I need to take a breath, do the work, and not freak out. I have no idea why I'm this hyper today. I haven't eaten an excessive amount of sugar (yet). I got enough sleep. Nothing's wrong, really, and yes, I did something bold and surprising and perhaps a little foolish, but people do far far worse things along those lines all the time. Or stupider, or make bigger fools out of themselves. So calm down, Jag. You have work to do.

Yeah, that's the magic phrase, isn't it. You have work to do. Shut up and soldier, soldier. Sir, yes sir. Let the good times roll.

( 日本語 )

Oh god, I'm falling asleep. My throat hurts and at least the creeping dizzies and the sniffles have tapered off to nothing, but I am seriously falling asleep here. On the plus side, I have Gibbs in my head yelling at me if I go near the candy basket. Why is there not more time in the day? Seriously.

In theory, there is game tomorrow. In theory. It all depends on whether or not we get enough players over and whether the BRIAN BLESSED expy shows up. Either way, there will be spaghetti sauce tonight, because it will get eaten either way. And then there will also be pesto, goddammit. And, um. Something. Maybe there will be bruschetta. I could do with some bruschetta. Of course, I could also strangle the boy for not clearly articulating plans and/or clearly deciding whether or not there's going to be game tonight. Brb, strangling boy.

Right. So, I think the plan for tomorrow involves Italian food and maybe game or maybe not, but people coming over hopefully to devour my tasty tasty food. And ... something. God, I have no brain. Someone lend me a brain, mine's decided that it's vacation time since I've finished my noveling. Sort of. Finished one novel. Still need to do the others which, heh. Time is going to be at a premium tonight AND tomorrow night. Ew. Well, maybe it'll be incentive to be efficient abooooh. I'll reorganize my outlines to be more detailed. That's what I'll do. HAH. A battle plan.

( 日本語 )

I seriously can't believe I just wrote Crowley/Crowley/Crowley. No, scratch that, I can't believe I just wrote 1,315 words of Crowley/Crowley/Crowley.

No, scratch that, I can't believe I just wrote RPS.

Argh. Argh argh argh. I have three weeks left to finish my draft of Martine and my final draft of Sherlock Holmes. ARGH. Yes, this is my own dumbass fault and yes, given the amount I have left to do, this isn't actually that terrible but dammit, I'm still going to argh about it. On the plus side, my desk no longer really looks like a war zone? My work desk, at least. I cleaned it while I was procrastinating working on Martine. Right. Updated writing schedule to reflect the OMFG Martine Draft due soon panic, and accommodate the Big Bangs I still have to draft. Someone remind me again why I thought this was ever a good idea? Oh, right, I'm stupid. And insane.

Actually, looking at my writing schedule, I only have three scenes to do tonight. This is eminently doable. Especially since, from what I remember, I don't have any TV I desperately want to watch that's new tonight, so it'll pretty much just be curling up in bed and writing. This is a good thing.

I'm sure I had something more insightful than porn to offer you, but... well, no, I really don't. This is my life these days, work, courtesan school work, writing. Enjoy. Oh, and dragons. Mustn't forget the dragons.