"I speak too fast. I laugh too loud."
Please have a look at the new round of eBay auctions (including out-of-print and hard-to-find books), because I need a few new articles of clothing for the New Orleans trip...because I never buy new clothes. I actually think of the coat I bought in 2001 as my "new coat." It's the most recent coat I've bought. I fucking hate shopping. Anyway, thanks. Oh, and each winning bidder gets one monster doodle per item.
Still having coolish weather here in Providence. Currently 72˚F, and that's our projected high. New Orleans is going to be murder after five years in New England. Spooky says New Orleans is supposed to get 99˚F next Thursday, which would be grand if my idea of a heat wave were not now three days in the low eighties.
The hardest part of this trip will be the stretch of railroad between Tuscaloosa and the Alabama/Mississippi state line. We'll be crossing through the band of Upper Cretaceous marine sediments that I spent so much time collecting from between 1980 and 2002. I'm not really up to bittersweet these days. I half wish it would be night during that leg of the trip down, but:
In its present-day form, the southbound Crescent leaves New York in mid-afternoon and Washington DC in the early evening, passing through the Carolinas overnight for arrival at breakfast-time in Atlanta, lunch-time in Birmingham, and early evening at New Orleans. In the northbound direction, the train leaves New Orleans at breakfast time and arrives New York early the following afternoon.
Likely, we'll pass through railroad cuts in which I prospected.
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I don't know which I find more fucked-up: "My Little Pony" fan art* or furry art (comment inspired by deviantART).
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Yesterday I wrote another 1,087 words on the new short story. I'm calling it "A Piece of the Sky." I was being superstitious about giving the title, but now that I think it may be a dead end, that I might be shelving it, the misgivings are, obviously, pointless. I begin to believe it was ill conceived. Just a bad idea from the start, but I am loathe to shelve a story on which I've already written 3,741 words. Yesterday, I spent almost an hour rewriting the same paragraph over and over, and I never do that shit. Finally, I made myself stop. I'm not sure what will happen today. But this may be my last "normal" work day before we have to begin readying ourselves for the long trip. This is one reason I don't do many conventions (as in almost none): the crazy amount of time trips to cons consume. Even if you're lucky and don't get sick.
I hate doing cons.
But I am going. I am.
Dry Skin,
Aunt Beast
* I have been informed by dipsomaniac that there are (*shudder*) "My Little Pony" conventions...
Still having coolish weather here in Providence. Currently 72˚F, and that's our projected high. New Orleans is going to be murder after five years in New England. Spooky says New Orleans is supposed to get 99˚F next Thursday, which would be grand if my idea of a heat wave were not now three days in the low eighties.
The hardest part of this trip will be the stretch of railroad between Tuscaloosa and the Alabama/Mississippi state line. We'll be crossing through the band of Upper Cretaceous marine sediments that I spent so much time collecting from between 1980 and 2002. I'm not really up to bittersweet these days. I half wish it would be night during that leg of the trip down, but:
In its present-day form, the southbound Crescent leaves New York in mid-afternoon and Washington DC in the early evening, passing through the Carolinas overnight for arrival at breakfast-time in Atlanta, lunch-time in Birmingham, and early evening at New Orleans. In the northbound direction, the train leaves New Orleans at breakfast time and arrives New York early the following afternoon.
Likely, we'll pass through railroad cuts in which I prospected.
---
I don't know which I find more fucked-up: "My Little Pony" fan art* or furry art (comment inspired by deviantART).
---
Yesterday I wrote another 1,087 words on the new short story. I'm calling it "A Piece of the Sky." I was being superstitious about giving the title, but now that I think it may be a dead end, that I might be shelving it, the misgivings are, obviously, pointless. I begin to believe it was ill conceived. Just a bad idea from the start, but I am loathe to shelve a story on which I've already written 3,741 words. Yesterday, I spent almost an hour rewriting the same paragraph over and over, and I never do that shit. Finally, I made myself stop. I'm not sure what will happen today. But this may be my last "normal" work day before we have to begin readying ourselves for the long trip. This is one reason I don't do many conventions (as in almost none): the crazy amount of time trips to cons consume. Even if you're lucky and don't get sick.
I hate doing cons.
But I am going. I am.
Dry Skin,
Aunt Beast
* I have been informed by dipsomaniac that there are (*shudder*) "My Little Pony" conventions...