Epic Shit + A Hello
It's been a long time since I've updated. AIM has generally kept you all in the loop about the minutia of my life, boring as it is, so I don't feel entirely remiss in neglecting LJ, which I decided to actually PAY for. Yes, I'm one of those, lol.
My personal word count goals, as illustrated in this post, has gone, up until this month, really well. I kicked it off in February with a 40,000 word goal. Unlike NaNo, my word count is based on meaningful posting, which includes SPEW reviews, SBBC discussions, and any shite poems or drabbles I might kick out. Yeah, it's a bit cheat-y, but since my goal for NaNo month is 75,000, it's safe to say that I'll definitely get my 50,000 in story word count.
February: I didn't actually get all 40k done in that month (I was about 3K shy, and hell, it's a short month anyway). I did, however, do some make-up word count in the next month before I started on the upcoming 25k.
March: I got done with my 25k, even with the make-up word count carried over from February, by the 20th. From there, I decided to angst over my birthday gift fics solely and did a LOT of those.
April: Holy crap, I got a load of stuff done in April, though it doesn't seem like it. I managed to crank out all of the prompts for the GH Challenge, write birthday fics (some of which were late, but I've already grovelled for forgiveness for that), and so forth. I had zero time for my regular chaptered works, which does upset me a bit, but I did get my 25k done by the 15th, manage to steer clear of that mind-numbing SBBC chat which meandered in so many uninteresting directions, do my SPEW reviews quite early, and even win the EMEA. I still don't think I deserved it, since my discussions were at the end of Week 3, but at any rate, I'll take those 15 points. :D And the honour. And the smexy BB banner that I got for it.
May: Gahhhhhhhhh, what a fucking fiasco! I haven't been able to finish anything! The only completed thing I have is the one-shot I wrote for Olivia's birthday, which came out as sort of word vomit. Other than that, I have a 2/3 done fic, a 1/3 done chapter of Harmony, maybe 10k, and a lot of unanswered questions about why I am incapable of getting anything done. That precipitated me to do the following: I cleaned my room.
I can't believe I finally got it done. After literally hours of searching for the bag of nuts and bolts that go to my four-poster bed, I FINALLY got it assembled, and my room looks like a real person lives here and not some dirty hobo.
But Jess, you are a dirty hobo!
While this may be true, I think I owe it to both myself and my creativity to provide the best possible creative environment. That does not, as far as I know, extend to the extremes of having a Godzilla shaped clothing pile looking over my shoulder like it's going to rip my limbs off and suck my brain out through my nose with a straw. In fact, I think I'd go so far as to say, "Definitely not!" My room is around 193 square feet (a shade under 18 square metres for those of you who are US Customary-impaired) not including the window seat or the closet, and I can honestly say that, before the purge, about half of it was completely unusable. It was a combination of several things: my ex-roommate's stuff (which was actually the large contributor to the laundry monster), my laundry baskets (all four of them), excess storage containers which weren't being utilised, like... at all, and just random piles of stuff that I couldn't be bothered to sort out. Around my side table, which was where I had migrated when I started using my netbook more heavily, all of my HP books were stacked haphazardly, as well as my foreign language dictionaries (no idea why), and perhaps a few (*cough*) carcasses of takeaway Chinese.
As I said... dirty hobo.
But something incredible happened a few days ago. I looked over my shoulder at the mess and thought, "I'm not really like this. Why do I have more stuff than I need, a massive collection of someone else's stuff that she didn't need, either, and not so much as the will to do myself a favour and get rid of it all before it ate my soul or something?" And, honestly, I didn't have an answer. I couldn't tell you why I had let things get this out of order. I'm an apathetic person, yes, but picking up only takes five minutes every couple of days. I know this. When I lived by myself, I did so with no problem at all. And then I knew that the junk had to go.
So, three solid days of self-induced slavery, which were started by, of all things, a missing bag of nuts and bolts, brought about the following:
That says it all, really. There was somethig cathartic about exorcising Jennie (my ex-roomie) from my personal space. I love her to bits and always will, but she doesn't live here anymore. Now, thanks to a little bit of angst and a LOT of kicking ass, neither does her cast-off crap. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back was when I was looking for said nuts and bolts (my bedframe is wobbly without the headboard and posts, hence the necessity for the AWOL hardware) was when I was looking under a pile of her old stuff, which was right where she left it, and there were four or five half-drunk bottles of water. I got a bit angry, since it's one thing for ME to trash my own room, but for someone else to do it as my guest when she had nowhere else to live, I found it pushed my buttons in unpleasant ways.
So, now... I have my room back. One of these centuries when I get my laundry sorted, I'll do a video tour of my little space. I don't know if any of you particularly care, but I thought it might be neat to share with you all where the mad lady spins her mad tales at an even madder rate. But not now. I've finally recovered from my cleaning bug and hope to get to work at LAST on my 40K goal this month, of which I've only made, at the most, 10K.
On that note, I would like to welcome soraya786 / babewithbrains / Soraya to the f-list. This welcome also comes with the same disclaimer that I give to everyone who tries to befriend me. I am not a very nice person. I spend most of my time on this thing bitching about MNFF and the asshats who roam its E-halls like they are the dog's bollocks. I'm rather rude, judgmental, cranky, and I swear a lot (albeit creatively here and there). My rants are few but legendary. And I custom f-lock a lot of entries, just so you know. It's not that I don't like you particularly; its only that the particular post involved either doesn't affect you or you wouldn't be interested. Just sayin'.
And, with that, this is my first real post in ages. I've learnt that I am a filthy person, I'm a lazy bitch, and I'm just, well... a bitch. But you lot already knew that, hehe. ♥ you, f-list.
P.S. -- I'm going to murder the neighbour girl. She's been listening to My Heart Will Go On on repeat for TWO FREAKING HOURS now. I have my iTunes on as loud as I can stand, but it still has managed to permeate my ears. FML.
My personal word count goals, as illustrated in this post, has gone, up until this month, really well. I kicked it off in February with a 40,000 word goal. Unlike NaNo, my word count is based on meaningful posting, which includes SPEW reviews, SBBC discussions, and any shite poems or drabbles I might kick out. Yeah, it's a bit cheat-y, but since my goal for NaNo month is 75,000, it's safe to say that I'll definitely get my 50,000 in story word count.
February: I didn't actually get all 40k done in that month (I was about 3K shy, and hell, it's a short month anyway). I did, however, do some make-up word count in the next month before I started on the upcoming 25k.
March: I got done with my 25k, even with the make-up word count carried over from February, by the 20th. From there, I decided to angst over my birthday gift fics solely and did a LOT of those.
April: Holy crap, I got a load of stuff done in April, though it doesn't seem like it. I managed to crank out all of the prompts for the GH Challenge, write birthday fics (some of which were late, but I've already grovelled for forgiveness for that), and so forth. I had zero time for my regular chaptered works, which does upset me a bit, but I did get my 25k done by the 15th, manage to steer clear of that mind-numbing SBBC chat which meandered in so many uninteresting directions, do my SPEW reviews quite early, and even win the EMEA. I still don't think I deserved it, since my discussions were at the end of Week 3, but at any rate, I'll take those 15 points. :D And the honour. And the smexy BB banner that I got for it.
May: Gahhhhhhhhh, what a fucking fiasco! I haven't been able to finish anything! The only completed thing I have is the one-shot I wrote for Olivia's birthday, which came out as sort of word vomit. Other than that, I have a 2/3 done fic, a 1/3 done chapter of Harmony, maybe 10k, and a lot of unanswered questions about why I am incapable of getting anything done. That precipitated me to do the following: I cleaned my room.
I can't believe I finally got it done. After literally hours of searching for the bag of nuts and bolts that go to my four-poster bed, I FINALLY got it assembled, and my room looks like a real person lives here and not some dirty hobo.
But Jess, you are a dirty hobo!
While this may be true, I think I owe it to both myself and my creativity to provide the best possible creative environment. That does not, as far as I know, extend to the extremes of having a Godzilla shaped clothing pile looking over my shoulder like it's going to rip my limbs off and suck my brain out through my nose with a straw. In fact, I think I'd go so far as to say, "Definitely not!" My room is around 193 square feet (a shade under 18 square metres for those of you who are US Customary-impaired) not including the window seat or the closet, and I can honestly say that, before the purge, about half of it was completely unusable. It was a combination of several things: my ex-roommate's stuff (which was actually the large contributor to the laundry monster), my laundry baskets (all four of them), excess storage containers which weren't being utilised, like... at all, and just random piles of stuff that I couldn't be bothered to sort out. Around my side table, which was where I had migrated when I started using my netbook more heavily, all of my HP books were stacked haphazardly, as well as my foreign language dictionaries (no idea why), and perhaps a few (*cough*) carcasses of takeaway Chinese.
As I said... dirty hobo.
But something incredible happened a few days ago. I looked over my shoulder at the mess and thought, "I'm not really like this. Why do I have more stuff than I need, a massive collection of someone else's stuff that she didn't need, either, and not so much as the will to do myself a favour and get rid of it all before it ate my soul or something?" And, honestly, I didn't have an answer. I couldn't tell you why I had let things get this out of order. I'm an apathetic person, yes, but picking up only takes five minutes every couple of days. I know this. When I lived by myself, I did so with no problem at all. And then I knew that the junk had to go.
So, three solid days of self-induced slavery, which were started by, of all things, a missing bag of nuts and bolts, brought about the following:
- Four bags of damaged items or just flat out rubbish
- Two fistfuls of dead pens
- Three large boxes of clothing/items to go to charity
- Two full baskets of dirty laundry
- Twelve unused storage containers of all shapes and sizes
- One huge monkey off my back
That says it all, really. There was somethig cathartic about exorcising Jennie (my ex-roomie) from my personal space. I love her to bits and always will, but she doesn't live here anymore. Now, thanks to a little bit of angst and a LOT of kicking ass, neither does her cast-off crap. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back was when I was looking for said nuts and bolts (my bedframe is wobbly without the headboard and posts, hence the necessity for the AWOL hardware) was when I was looking under a pile of her old stuff, which was right where she left it, and there were four or five half-drunk bottles of water. I got a bit angry, since it's one thing for ME to trash my own room, but for someone else to do it as my guest when she had nowhere else to live, I found it pushed my buttons in unpleasant ways.
So, now... I have my room back. One of these centuries when I get my laundry sorted, I'll do a video tour of my little space. I don't know if any of you particularly care, but I thought it might be neat to share with you all where the mad lady spins her mad tales at an even madder rate. But not now. I've finally recovered from my cleaning bug and hope to get to work at LAST on my 40K goal this month, of which I've only made, at the most, 10K.
On that note, I would like to welcome soraya786 / babewithbrains / Soraya to the f-list. This welcome also comes with the same disclaimer that I give to everyone who tries to befriend me. I am not a very nice person. I spend most of my time on this thing bitching about MNFF and the asshats who roam its E-halls like they are the dog's bollocks. I'm rather rude, judgmental, cranky, and I swear a lot (albeit creatively here and there). My rants are few but legendary. And I custom f-lock a lot of entries, just so you know. It's not that I don't like you particularly; its only that the particular post involved either doesn't affect you or you wouldn't be interested. Just sayin'.
And, with that, this is my first real post in ages. I've learnt that I am a filthy person, I'm a lazy bitch, and I'm just, well... a bitch. But you lot already knew that, hehe. ♥ you, f-list.
P.S. -- I'm going to murder the neighbour girl. She's been listening to My Heart Will Go On on repeat for TWO FREAKING HOURS now. I have my iTunes on as loud as I can stand, but it still has managed to permeate my ears. FML.