Zombie Chef

When two cats who don't like each other want to sleep on the same small wool throw, a monkey's foot works well as a Line Of Ignoring.

The Mythbusters attempt to polish, well... a turd.

This amuses me because "turd-polishing" is a common phrase bandied around SFF workshops, meaning the act of fiddling with the sentences and commas in an essentially broken narrative.

Even if you succeed, well. What you have is a high-gloss turd.

You can, by the by, find me talking (hopefully with coherence and an informative style) about BookView Cafe and The Shadow Conspiracy at The Big Idea:

http://whatever.scalzi.com/2009/12/17/the-big-idea-laura-anne-gilman/

Before I forget:

Io, Saturnalia!

Enjoy role reversal, drunkeness, orgies, good food and the giving of small gifts this December 17th. In proper Roman fashion.

Great Irish Elk skeleton says hello!

After six months of shagginess, I finally have a haircut. It makes me look about six years younger. I'm not sure that's entirely a good thing, but, well, no one takes me seriously anyway, so it won't hurt to look a goofy seventeen.

(Yes, I have two bibles on my shelves in that picture. I also own an interlinear Greek New Testament, but it's not my fault, honest. They made me study bibles. Critically.)

I also took pictures. Here is the harbour: it was a brisk day, and the water was coming over the back wall in an arc of white every so often. (Sadly, this happened too fast for me to take a proper picture of it.) There was also the occasional out-of-control crow zipping past on its back, due to the wind.

I'm a wee bit out of it at the moment. I'm not entirely sure why, but I suspect it's the holiday season making me all anxious. But! We shall overcome.

Time for a pot of what my friends and associates lovingly call Death Drops. (ecinacea, hibiscus, rose hips, ginger, lemon, red pepper, and honey.)

Cures what ails ya.

Or at least distracts you.

Body: Surprisingly good.

Reading: While I'm still working on Founding Brothers, last night I finished I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just Not You.

Book Review: I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just Not You is a pretty good exploration of using type theory to understand yourself, but there are better books out there for using the theory to understand other people.

Hearing: Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me

Wearing: (copied and pasted from the last time I wore it) Today's perfume is AGRAT-BAT-MAHLAHT, from BPAL's Carnivale Diabolique line. All the perfumes in that line are inspired by the concept of a twisted and creepy traveling circus/sideshow. I'll be honest: I'm not real fond of the concept, especially of the "Grindhouse" sub-section that this particular perfume is from, but it smells lovely. This particular scent is described as "Amber, cream accord, white honey, apple blossom, skin musk, caramel, and teak."

Etsy find: Celtic Knot-work earrings

Tonight's Project: A little more Christmas shopping, than dinner with friends.

Project Follow-up: I have gifts for Sabrina & Georgia, Stuart's is ordered, and I've decided what I'm getting William.

so far this morning: contracts and tax paperwork printed (4); epic battles with printer and TBRE's... idiosyncratic... wiring structures (6); epic battles with my own piles of office clutter (2); epic battles with kjitten over just who exactly gets to stand on the printer while it's printing (umpteen).

The printer router the beloved netcurmudgeon set up for me appears to have died the death (I wonder, somehow, if cats are responsible) so I had to crawl around under the desk and hook the printer up directly to the desktop, and then port files, and then--

And all this while not feeling so hot, and in the throes of PMI (Premenstrual incompetence. Hormones give me brain fog.). And then the dog decided that it wasn't too cold to go chase the ball for a VERY LONG TIME before doing his business, which meant somebody had to throw that ball. Somebody inadequately dressed, with cold hands, because see above brain fog.

So that was my morning.

Is it too early to start drinking?

temperature this morning: 15 wonderful degrees (-2 with windchill (F, not C: I'm an American barbarian.)
tea today: orange passionfruit
teacup today: asian (Japanese? it's kind of borderline in size and design) teacup from San Francisco

I'm in the midst of a caffeine detox, just in case the weird fits of anxiety I've been having are triggered by the buzz. (I suspect it's more deadlines and incoming! baby and deadlines and slow-paying publishing industry and deadlines and coming to terms with my spinsterhood and deadlines. But the caffeine is something I can control.) While I don't consume a lot of caffeine (I drink a lot of tea, mostly green, and occasional black tea or coffee) I've noticed in the past few months that black tea or coffee in the evening will actually mess up my sleep cycle, which is new and unexciting. And I did NOT react well to the chai I had on Monday, or the coffee Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, after 72 hours without my drug of choice, I am feeling the effects--those headaches, I tell ya. Stuff is vicious. And I appear to be coming down with something, given my absolute failure to perform at the climbing gym yesterday (hawkwing_lb had all my mojo. Don't ask.), the pain in my neck, and the occasional slight productive cough. No fever, though--I'm right on the money a degree low, just as I always am.

Given all this, the fact that Grail is sitting at 185 pages, and the Impending Hoolidays, I have decided to take an advance on my Time Off as sick leave cum lazing about. Today I will read contracts and make some notes on Grail because I was brilliant in the shower this morning. And I am going to cuddle up with a peppermint-and-lavender-soaked barley pillow. And if any writing gets done, well, it gets done. And if it doesn't, well, that's okay too.

Basically, I'm going to putter and not set any goals. And hope my headache eases up a little. (Today's tea is an herbal blend with a little bit of green tea in it, so there is some caffeine, but not so much I would drink it for the energy boost. But it will probably take the edge off the discomfort, anyway.)

After owning a Roomba for... what, two weeks now? I can say that it is true, you do start treating it like a pet. or a kid. Up to and including "what did you eat?" when cleaning out the dirt-tank.

My house-robot. It is sturdy and hard-working, but not too bright.


But it does amuse me to watch Boomer watching it with great suspicion and wariness....

Hsppy birthday to the redoubtable thomryng!

Yesterday morning was a scurry of book-making paperwork and e-mails in order to nail all my mid-week deadlines to the wall (nailed!), but the main event was lunch with fashionista_35, in town for a whirlwind visit before she, like windrose, abandons Florida for the Left Coast.

(This is all a plot to try and coax me out there, isn't it? Not working; you guys are going to need a pied-a-terre in NYC, anyway.)

Bar Boulud is, as usual, still fabulous -- I had celery root velouté with toasted chestnuts*, and croque m'sieur, with a glass of St Veran, and could not have wanted for anything more. B somehow found room for dessert -- a truly dangerous-looking chocolate thing with pistachio creme. Discussions of industry news, writing projects, cabana boys, and more. Much laughter, and our waiter was charming and attentive. Then I walked B back to her hotel, and found myself a cafe in which to write some more before deciding that health and sanity trumped socializing, and abandoned the KGB reading for home, kittehs, and quiet.

Much to my surprise, I discovered when I got home that, rather than the 600 or so words I thought I'd written in the cafe? I'd put down 900. So the word-total for the day was 1,800 and I took it and was glad.

Still no word from certain people on certain projects Y/N, and at this point the window's closing, so am going to assume No. Gah, I hate it when people say they'll get back to you, absolutely, count on it, and then disappear....


Today -- a balmy 24 degrees and icing on the windows -- is about answering interview questions, sketching-in outlines for forthcoming books, and making cookies. Another 2,000 new words on WiP would be nice, but I'm on schedule and with a sense of where the book's going now, so the stress is a little less....

And I owe you guys a post on an author's view of agency, and another one one debit cards, yea, I know, I know...





*and I now have a reasonable recipe for same. Mmmmm...

Criminal Minds 5x11, "Retaliation," written by Erica Messer, directed by Felix Enrique-Alcata

( How long can you keep us safe?  )

( The size of your honor guard determines your status in Hell. )

http://www.normalityfactor.com/knitting/Chthulhu_Ornament.pdf

$10 off if you have a Basic or Plus acct. Doesn't work for icons or Paid accts. I've got 10 coupons--comment here (screened) if you want one. First come, first served.

The semester is finally over! \o/

Of course, this basically means it's time to start work on next semester, but that's life. At least I have a little time to work on yuletide and 3 ships. I should actually be able to finish both of them as long as I figure out where I left my 3 ships outline (plz let it not have been left at school, there is only so much embarrassment I can take in life).

I've got a whole lot of things started, but Christmas fics are going to be New Years or perhaps Ground Hog's Day fic this year. Just a heads up. I am back to writing in Fake News though, my mojo came back with a sudden thwap across the back of the head, and that will probably be what goes up on the 25th. (There are still FNFF SeSa prompts left. Everyone should get a fic, but I'm tapped out, so if you have some extra time, go pick up one of the last few (11) prompts left.)

We've also decided to celebrate Newtonmas this year. Otherwise known as an excuse to give gifts without having to indulge in the "Christmas is a Federal Holiday and thus a holiday for atheists" argument. Also, there are apples and science and I like both apples and science.

I did okay this semester. Not the 4.0 I really, really wanted, as El Jefe decided to put a minus in front of my A in his class (damn fake As). Otherwise, I'm happy, though I feel like I haven't talked to you guys in years. So tell me something awesome that I missed while I was off writing about impressment and historiography. Or post a funny picture of your cat, whatever.

I am mighty.

Today, I led three routes at the climbing wall. Two of which were 6As, of which one was upon the roof.

Of course, these were attended with much stopping and hanging on the rope, but still, three routes led. I feel almost like a real climber.

(I also toproped six and nine-tenths other routes. One and nine-tenths were 6Bs, and okay, so the nine-tenths had far too much falling in there, and one was a 6A, two were easy routes on the slab, and one was a 5+ that nearly took the skin off my hands, because I was that tired by then. But still, mighty climbing.)

I have never been this tired, though. This term has been too long, and I am stupid with over-exposure to the world. I don't know, but I hope I can steal some time from the thesis to recover myself.

Of course, my lecturer wants our class to read Anthony and Cleopatra for our own edification over the break, too. At least I have an excuse to avoid my family over the holiday period. Not that this is an unmitigated good.

My to-do list, it grows by the day.

.YARR Format - Any computer file containing data obtained from BitTorrent or some other extralegal source (e.g., BitTorrent).

1700 words today, when I had only promised myself 3 pages. I'm pretty pleased with that--and I got it done fast, by my standards, though not by those of people who write fast.

That brings us to a nice 37,000 words, and 185 pages. Maybe two more writing days to a vacation. OMG. (Yeah, my vacations look like other people's weekends. Such is life.)

It's very good to be back in the saddle again. I haven't written a whole new book since Chill, and it's amazng how much of my self-identity is locked up in being somebody who produces new novel-length stories.

Now, I get to eat some lunch and drink some tea and goof off until it's time to go climb. Then I shall come home and work a bit more, I expect, until Criminal Minds. The last new one for a while.

It's almost the end of the Naughties. I still have hopes of making the decade name catch on. After all, once we're out of it, we'll need something to call it....

(Yes, I know technically speaking 2010 is part of the same decade, but functionally? It's not. Nobody refers to 1970 as "the sixties." The map is not the territory, and trying to make the way people interact with reality conform to an ideal results in such crowning successes as, oh, Esperanto.)