October 9th, 2006

evile overbear

We lose all the best to the sea. We lose all the best to the sea.

I'm taking today and tomorrow off [which also means hiding in my cave like an introvert], which no doubt means I'll start writing compulsively at any moment. In any case, I wasted the morning on youtube, and I plan to go fix myself some lunch, open up a beer, and spend the afternoon watching The Greatest American Hero DVDs and letting my brain drain. As soon as I'm done glutting my senses on Peter Mulvey.

Yeah, I still have a to-do list. And it will also still be there Wednesday morning.

The weekend was a lot of fun. Saturday, I had lunch and dinner with Trevor and Marie, and between times Trevor and I went geocaching. As promised, Collapse )

Sunday I spent with netcurmudgeon and ashacat: first, the former and I took a trip up to UConn to leaf-peep a little, and hiked up Horsebarn Hill (as featured in Blood & Iron and Whiskey & Water, though the astute will notice that I swapped the big oak and the big maple trees. Sh.). The leaves weren't at their peak, though, so though we got some beautiful views of the hills, and the sky, which was that color. You probably haven't seen that color, unless you've been to New England or the upper Midwest or southern Ontario in October.

There may be other places in the world that get it too, but I don't know where. It is the most fantastic blue in the world.

Then the three of us hung out, ate pizza, and played a little Call of Cthulhu, with netcurmudgeon serving as game master. Yes, I am a great big geek. It was deeply fun, too. Lots of footwork and police procedure. And both Asha and I got to have moments of in-character brilliance, which is always deeply satisfying.

And I refuse to feel guilty for taking four days more or less off. Take that, superego!
bear by san

every poet is a cannibal, every artist is a thief

Because, of course, nothing is so conducive to work as a day off....

Progress notes for 9 October 2006:

"Upon Deaf Ears"

New Words:  1556
Total Words: 3551
Pages: 19
Deadline: --
Reason for stopping: DRAFT! Which may be broken. And needs a decent title. And is all kind of not as emotionally pointy as it needs to be.

Stimulants:  Dogfish Head IPA
Exercise: none. I have had enough exercise.
Mammalian assistance: Mebd is ignoring me to sleep on the bed.
Mail: nomail

Today's words Word don't know: Zeppelinesque, bassline, Soho, wankers, très, butch, houngan, Norns, Surtur, fuckers, zine, pizzle, endoscopy,
Words I'm surprised Word do know: n/a

Mean Things: scathing reviews, global irrelevance
Tyop du Jour: insticipation
Darling du jour: It's unwise to provoke him. But sometimes irresistible.
Jury-rigging: Did I mention that this whole thing is a teetering edifice of nontraditional, nonlinear narrative that may or may not work?

Also, making up titles for glam rock albums is fun. I may be turning into Grant Morrison, though.

There's always one more quirk in the character: The quirks are more or less the plot, at this point.
Other writing-related work: read a story for leahbobet.
Books in progress: I should finish Scandinavian Folk Belief and Legend.
The Internet is full of Things: via matt_arnold, Andart offers Warning Signs for Tomorrow.

A sampler:


Go read the site for the rest.

The glamour!: I need a nap

bear by san

There goes all my Goth cred.

For some reason, the Rock Elf story (which is, four out of five critters agree, broken in its brokenness* ) left me with an uncontrollable urge to listen to Led Zeppelin.

Having approached the temple in a spirit of supplication and wondering.... forensic examination of my CD collection suggests that I own, in fact, five Led Zeppelin CDs. And four Robert Plant disks.

And upon digging some of it out to listen, I've discovered why I have this stuff. Reprehensible as the whole thing may have been from a non-musical perspective, this is actually pretty good crunchy blues.


I wonder what else is down there lurking. And what horrible truths it will reveal about my musical tastes in years gone by.

* The story wants to be a koan type of story, rather than a narrative type of story. ("The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas" is a koan type of story.) The problem is, that it's not in balance, so the snap of the whole thing falling into place beautifully in the last paragraph...

...not so much yet.