it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken
matociquala

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Kiss me and smile for me.

Progress notes for 8 November 2006:

"Chatoyant"

New Words:  1215
Total Words:  8847
Pages: 38
Deadline: Dec 31
Reason for stopping: End of scene, dinner plans, etc.

Stimulants:  peach tea
Exercise: Gym
Songs mutilated: Most notably, a version of "Eleanor Rigby" that was almost recognizable as a song. The song, alas, wasn't "Eleanor Rigby," but you could tell it was supposed to be a song, anyway.

My version is unaccountably eerie. I'm not sure if it's because I'm playing it painstakingly slowly, or because of my (lack of) vocal range.

Also did the usual round of mangling "Seven," "Leaving on a Jet Plane," "Take it Easy," "Heart of Gold," and "The Gambler." Mr. Jones continues to defeat me. He seems to be of the opinion that standard chord progressions are for sissies. On the other hand, I could almost get through that damned song if it weren't for the A flat.

Bob Dylan defeats me for entirely different reasons, mostly having to do with weird line lengths and things. However, Neil Young is generous. And easy.

On the other hand, I am discovering that I can sing. Kind of. Maybe. If you consider the breathy limited-range thing I do singing.

Mammalian assistance: Mebd
Mail: Money from Subterranean! Yay! Weirdly, I have not gotten any mail from when I was away. And various things, such as my Locus, should have arrived by now.

Today's words Word don't know: Irishness, corsetry,
Words I'm surprised Word do know: untrammeled,

Mean Things: politics
Tyop du Jour: n/a
Darling du jour: Once you've permitted the devil across your threshold, it's not so easy to invite him out again.
Jury-rigging: not so much

There's always one more quirk in the character: Not so quirky today....
Other writing-related work: none
Books in progress: Mary Roach, Stiff; Jay Lake, Mainspring
The Internet is full of Things: Right now, it's full of loathing for Donald Rumsfeld. I'm okay with that.
The glamour!: I made smoked turkey and red bean soup yesterday, and today I made borscht. Obviously, winter is upon us. Oh, yes it is. A freezer full of soup is the universal sign of this.

It was red bean soup because there were bugs in my white beans. What the hell kind of bug eats dried beans?

Tags: guitar god in training, new amsterdam, progress notes, short fiction, three chords and grimace musically
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