(no subject)
This is kind of been a weird week. I can't even really explain why, or what makes me think that; you'll simply have to take my word for it.
Summer is in the air. More specifically, summer smells are in the air, and every time I turn around I remember something else. Often unpleasant things, or simply a vague feeling of being unsettled and depressed. Maybe I hate summer because so many of my more recent summers I spent being unemployed (or poorly employed) and feeling helpless and worthless because of it. Maybe I just hate sweating (I really do). The smell of a hot car is enough to send me back only a few years and turn my stomach with reflexive anxiety. In contrast, the smell of freshly-cut grass fills me with peace and appreciation for living things, and an intense desire to stop whatever I am doing and live the life of a hermit in the middle of a field for the rest of my life. I'd eat grasshoppers and foxtails and have a bunny friend who doubled as a pillow, and I'd just lie in tall grass all day and look up at the sky without proper eye protection and feed on sunlight through my retinas. And people would come look at me as if I were a saint or a street magician, and they would wish they could do it too but wouldn't have the courage to give up everything they owned. And eventually I'd be locked away and wear a jacket that gave me hugs most of the time, but as long as I could go outside in the summer and lie in the grass and look at the sun, I don't think I would mind very much.
I've decided that in every novel I ever write that takes place in the modern world (or post-modern, or whatever), Ellis will have a cameo. All of them. You heard me.
Speaking of Ellis, now that I've been putting my cds onto Euterpe, I found 'Trip Like I Do' by Crystal Method, which is Ellis's theme song. He has been waking up ever since. And then I found 'Deadly Handsome Man' and got the same visual I usually do; Ellis trying to be all suave (pronounced swayv) in his tan cargo shorts and flip-flops and bold-print polyester shirt (Hawaiian-themed, but not necessarily flowers; once the stylistic dragons and Japanese character art showed up, he'd be into that hardcore), and failing miserably and not really noticing. But at the same time still being all hot and confident and oblivious and pointing at people with both hands shaped like guns, with a great big grin - yeah, that kind of guy. Heheh. I wuv him.
I have bits and pieces of the AB fic stirring again. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, and when I try to iron out pre-created characters, I tend to give up and despair because they don't want to be like they were created, but then they don't want to do what I want them to do either, which doesn't help anybody and doesn't get anything written. SO STUBBORN. But, a bit more of the aftermath is becoming clearer, instead of just "1. Bad stuff happens, 2. ???, 3. Profit," which is what it was before.
In other news, something has gotten into me and I don't know what it is, but it is exhausting and I kind of don't want it to go away. Heh. Mmm. [/cryptic]
Tomorrow I'm going to start taking some of my steroids stockpile, seeing as it's going to be a crazy ass-weekend and we'll likely be going non-stop, and by Sunday if I don't have some pharmacological assistance I'm not going to be able to move at all.
I have decided to knit two socks at once on my bamboo dpns. We shall see how this goes; at the moment, I must wind the one giant ball into two balls of equal size. I don't mind. It is such pretty yarn.
Well hey, look what just started playing.
Summer is in the air. More specifically, summer smells are in the air, and every time I turn around I remember something else. Often unpleasant things, or simply a vague feeling of being unsettled and depressed. Maybe I hate summer because so many of my more recent summers I spent being unemployed (or poorly employed) and feeling helpless and worthless because of it. Maybe I just hate sweating (I really do). The smell of a hot car is enough to send me back only a few years and turn my stomach with reflexive anxiety. In contrast, the smell of freshly-cut grass fills me with peace and appreciation for living things, and an intense desire to stop whatever I am doing and live the life of a hermit in the middle of a field for the rest of my life. I'd eat grasshoppers and foxtails and have a bunny friend who doubled as a pillow, and I'd just lie in tall grass all day and look up at the sky without proper eye protection and feed on sunlight through my retinas. And people would come look at me as if I were a saint or a street magician, and they would wish they could do it too but wouldn't have the courage to give up everything they owned. And eventually I'd be locked away and wear a jacket that gave me hugs most of the time, but as long as I could go outside in the summer and lie in the grass and look at the sun, I don't think I would mind very much.
I've decided that in every novel I ever write that takes place in the modern world (or post-modern, or whatever), Ellis will have a cameo. All of them. You heard me.
Speaking of Ellis, now that I've been putting my cds onto Euterpe, I found 'Trip Like I Do' by Crystal Method, which is Ellis's theme song. He has been waking up ever since. And then I found 'Deadly Handsome Man' and got the same visual I usually do; Ellis trying to be all suave (pronounced swayv) in his tan cargo shorts and flip-flops and bold-print polyester shirt (Hawaiian-themed, but not necessarily flowers; once the stylistic dragons and Japanese character art showed up, he'd be into that hardcore), and failing miserably and not really noticing. But at the same time still being all hot and confident and oblivious and pointing at people with both hands shaped like guns, with a great big grin - yeah, that kind of guy. Heheh. I wuv him.
I have bits and pieces of the AB fic stirring again. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, and when I try to iron out pre-created characters, I tend to give up and despair because they don't want to be like they were created, but then they don't want to do what I want them to do either, which doesn't help anybody and doesn't get anything written. SO STUBBORN. But, a bit more of the aftermath is becoming clearer, instead of just "1. Bad stuff happens, 2. ???, 3. Profit," which is what it was before.
In other news, something has gotten into me and I don't know what it is, but it is exhausting and I kind of don't want it to go away. Heh. Mmm. [/cryptic]
Tomorrow I'm going to start taking some of my steroids stockpile, seeing as it's going to be a crazy ass-weekend and we'll likely be going non-stop, and by Sunday if I don't have some pharmacological assistance I'm not going to be able to move at all.
I have decided to knit two socks at once on my bamboo dpns. We shall see how this goes; at the moment, I must wind the one giant ball into two balls of equal size. I don't mind. It is such pretty yarn.
Well hey, look what just started playing.