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oiranwriting and reading: Working on original story idea. It's pretty ridiculous. Maybe I just want to write porn forever and ever without actually having to write a story, per se. While there's nothing specifically wrong with this, I suppose, it's not exactly the formula for respect, a literate audience, and, well, financial gain. So many blowjobs! When I tell myself this story in my head, it has a plot, but on paper it's just an epic of suction. Also, it's a bit heavy on the slightly fetishistic descriptions of people's hair.
In other-people's-stories news, I've got stories to read, including one (hi,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pun) that I've been literally begging to read for about a year, but I haven't opened a single file yet. It's not for lack of wanting to read things. It's for lack of ability to give anything its due, since I'm suffering from anxious, broad-spectrum upset.
And I have actually read a great deal of fic that has been recommended by various individuals and comms on my list. I read these things because I don't know the people who wrote them, and therefore I can feel all right about my cavalier read-and-toss approach. I can tell you that there is a lot of almost-good fic in anime fandoms. There is just plain good stuff, too, of course, but the volume of almost-good seems disproportionate. Beta is needed widely, and would result in some very kick-ass stories.
pride and flattery: I "met" a strange young man today, someone who introduced himself as "Pride," who had an excess of energy, big, baggy shorts, and blocky, crooked teeth like a set of mismatched Chiclets. Normally, I ignore anyone who comes to the door during the day unless I am expecting company or a package of some sort, but when there is frantic, glass-rattling hammering at the door, I tend to think "urgent." Well, today it was just Pride, who liked my calico hair, my glasses, and the studded wristband that has become my habitual jewelry. I stood there in my pajamas, eyes narrowed, and tried to figure out if someone so much smaller than me, and obviously unarmed (in all senses except the literal one of having arms), was in any way potentially dangerous.
In the past, when kids came door-to-door during the summer with their laminated lists of magazines that I should buy from them in order to somehow fund their dreams through a complicated pyramid of points and bonuses, they had no real spiel. Young Pride was different, with a forceful, nervous yap about improving communications skills and meeting "the public," which apparently he thought he might find hiding out in a private home such as my own. I am curious now about whether this line of banter was his own creation or something the magazine subscription company has added to the routine. It was very off-putting, frankly, and I'm not sure if it was the high-strung delivery or the oily, matron-flattering tendency of the words themselves. Or maybe it's just me: I am, in fact, offended when any salesperson assumes I buy Christmas gifts for people. Or that I even buy gifts at all. I resent the assumption that I care about what is popular, especially with my neighbors, or that I am interested in saving money. I don't want to know anything about any product or service unless I am asking a specific, direct question. No, I don't need any help; I'm just looking.
The dog, despite his misshapen head and many swellings, let forth with a volley of growly, malevolent barks from the safety of his cushion a couple rooms away. Still, the volume and implied threat were enough to cause Pride to jump a few jerky inches, and I thought he might go away on his own before I had to shut the door in his face…
…but then he guessed my age. He thought I might be 31. Now, this is higher than a typical guess, but it's also a lot younger than I am, and when I made rapid mental calculations that took in my unwashed, unbrushed, and mascara-free state, my mismatched pajamas (at 3 PM, no less), and the fact that I know his guess was a calculated suck-up, and balanced it all against my actual age, it still came out on the side of flattery. So, I looked at his laminated list of magazine titles after all. I didn't buy anything, but I looked.
canine guilt issues: I have been preoccupied with guilt: Mr. Glove did some research and it turns out that one of the fungi that might be infecting the dog (although we have no actual lab results as yet) is very commonly found in the soil of Tennessee, as well as in bird droppings. Bird droppings are something we have in abundance, since we have five birds, all of which poop. The dog's favorite flavors have been shown to be tampon and, more recently, birdshit. While we've solved one of these snacking problems with metal, flip-lidded bathroom trash baskets, the birdshit issue has not been similarly addressed, as yet. While we have not fed the dog birdshit on purpose, that we inadvertently allowed him access to the substance fills me with self-loathing and bitterness. I am a lazy, bad housewife - in itself, this hasn't bothered me, particularly, but if it's eventually shown that my slatternly behavior has contributed to making my dog seriously sick, the self-hatred possibilities will be nearly endless.
tee-vee: Yay, UPN, for rerunning ANTM!!! It's bad enough that I have to miss Lost in order to watch SV, but I didn't want to miss out on my shallow, backstabbing, skinny girls, as well. I'll be watching that tonight, and probably leaving the TV on for the rerun of Veronica Mars - I hadn't been aware this would be shown again, and I would encourage people with nothing better to do to give it a try - for Kristen Bell and Enrico Colantoni, if nothing else. I have some serious concerns about the (mis)handling of some very major issues (see my Wednesday post if you care), but at the same time I like the Veronica character very much. She's Dark!Chloe - except her mystery-solving actually involves skill and not just pulling wild speculation out of her ass and calling it fact. So, yay! writers!
Now that I've actually done some viewing, I can make a list of what I'm watching. I watch specific things. Mr. Glove likes to have the TV on just for the hell of it. I can take advantage of this by sitting beside him while he flips channels. If something I like reruns on HBO or SHO, he's usually amenable to watching it. For deliberate viewing, I have more of a schedule than he does. Otherwise, when we actually plan to watch anything, it's usually DVDs vs. stuff being broadcast.
Monday: I don't think there's anything on. Unless that's when Dead Like Me airs.
Tuesday: Ditto, and ditto about Dead Like Me. I need to figure out what day it actually airs, I guess. I'm not sure if I particularly like George any more, but I love Mason - LOVE.
Wednesday: Smallville, followed by Veronica Mars, at least until further notice. I kind of had to watch the SV premiere, but now I'm considering switching to Lost while taping SV. I'm considering it only, though, because it seems like a lot of TV to commit to. Also, I had been under the mistaken impression that it was all about Ian Somerhalder, but it sounds like he's kind of minor in a huge ensemble cast, so I'm less interested than I was even a couple weeks ago.
Thursday: Nothing. I was tempted by all the hype about Joey, until I remembered that I hadn't watched the last four seasons of Friends. I do want to see what Adriana's up to now that she's dead, though.
Friday: Rerun of America's Next Top Model. I got hooked on this late last season. I'm going to assume it will fascinate and repulse me just as much this season, but if I've got something better to do, I can skip this pretty easily.
Saturday: Nothing. And I'm hoping to actually find many reasons to leave the house on Saturday nights anyway.
Sunday: Right now, it's The Wire.
And in this way, I have avoided writing or reading (or getting dressed) for another hour or so...
In other-people's-stories news, I've got stories to read, including one (hi,
pun) that I've been literally begging to read for about a year, but I haven't opened a single file yet. It's not for lack of wanting to read things. It's for lack of ability to give anything its due, since I'm suffering from anxious, broad-spectrum upset. And I have actually read a great deal of fic that has been recommended by various individuals and comms on my list. I read these things because I don't know the people who wrote them, and therefore I can feel all right about my cavalier read-and-toss approach. I can tell you that there is a lot of almost-good fic in anime fandoms. There is just plain good stuff, too, of course, but the volume of almost-good seems disproportionate. Beta is needed widely, and would result in some very kick-ass stories.
pride and flattery: I "met" a strange young man today, someone who introduced himself as "Pride," who had an excess of energy, big, baggy shorts, and blocky, crooked teeth like a set of mismatched Chiclets. Normally, I ignore anyone who comes to the door during the day unless I am expecting company or a package of some sort, but when there is frantic, glass-rattling hammering at the door, I tend to think "urgent." Well, today it was just Pride, who liked my calico hair, my glasses, and the studded wristband that has become my habitual jewelry. I stood there in my pajamas, eyes narrowed, and tried to figure out if someone so much smaller than me, and obviously unarmed (in all senses except the literal one of having arms), was in any way potentially dangerous.
In the past, when kids came door-to-door during the summer with their laminated lists of magazines that I should buy from them in order to somehow fund their dreams through a complicated pyramid of points and bonuses, they had no real spiel. Young Pride was different, with a forceful, nervous yap about improving communications skills and meeting "the public," which apparently he thought he might find hiding out in a private home such as my own. I am curious now about whether this line of banter was his own creation or something the magazine subscription company has added to the routine. It was very off-putting, frankly, and I'm not sure if it was the high-strung delivery or the oily, matron-flattering tendency of the words themselves. Or maybe it's just me: I am, in fact, offended when any salesperson assumes I buy Christmas gifts for people. Or that I even buy gifts at all. I resent the assumption that I care about what is popular, especially with my neighbors, or that I am interested in saving money. I don't want to know anything about any product or service unless I am asking a specific, direct question. No, I don't need any help; I'm just looking.
The dog, despite his misshapen head and many swellings, let forth with a volley of growly, malevolent barks from the safety of his cushion a couple rooms away. Still, the volume and implied threat were enough to cause Pride to jump a few jerky inches, and I thought he might go away on his own before I had to shut the door in his face…
…but then he guessed my age. He thought I might be 31. Now, this is higher than a typical guess, but it's also a lot younger than I am, and when I made rapid mental calculations that took in my unwashed, unbrushed, and mascara-free state, my mismatched pajamas (at 3 PM, no less), and the fact that I know his guess was a calculated suck-up, and balanced it all against my actual age, it still came out on the side of flattery. So, I looked at his laminated list of magazine titles after all. I didn't buy anything, but I looked.
canine guilt issues: I have been preoccupied with guilt: Mr. Glove did some research and it turns out that one of the fungi that might be infecting the dog (although we have no actual lab results as yet) is very commonly found in the soil of Tennessee, as well as in bird droppings. Bird droppings are something we have in abundance, since we have five birds, all of which poop. The dog's favorite flavors have been shown to be tampon and, more recently, birdshit. While we've solved one of these snacking problems with metal, flip-lidded bathroom trash baskets, the birdshit issue has not been similarly addressed, as yet. While we have not fed the dog birdshit on purpose, that we inadvertently allowed him access to the substance fills me with self-loathing and bitterness. I am a lazy, bad housewife - in itself, this hasn't bothered me, particularly, but if it's eventually shown that my slatternly behavior has contributed to making my dog seriously sick, the self-hatred possibilities will be nearly endless.
tee-vee: Yay, UPN, for rerunning ANTM!!! It's bad enough that I have to miss Lost in order to watch SV, but I didn't want to miss out on my shallow, backstabbing, skinny girls, as well. I'll be watching that tonight, and probably leaving the TV on for the rerun of Veronica Mars - I hadn't been aware this would be shown again, and I would encourage people with nothing better to do to give it a try - for Kristen Bell and Enrico Colantoni, if nothing else. I have some serious concerns about the (mis)handling of some very major issues (see my Wednesday post if you care), but at the same time I like the Veronica character very much. She's Dark!Chloe - except her mystery-solving actually involves skill and not just pulling wild speculation out of her ass and calling it fact. So, yay! writers!
Now that I've actually done some viewing, I can make a list of what I'm watching. I watch specific things. Mr. Glove likes to have the TV on just for the hell of it. I can take advantage of this by sitting beside him while he flips channels. If something I like reruns on HBO or SHO, he's usually amenable to watching it. For deliberate viewing, I have more of a schedule than he does. Otherwise, when we actually plan to watch anything, it's usually DVDs vs. stuff being broadcast.
Monday: I don't think there's anything on. Unless that's when Dead Like Me airs.
Tuesday: Ditto, and ditto about Dead Like Me. I need to figure out what day it actually airs, I guess. I'm not sure if I particularly like George any more, but I love Mason - LOVE.
Wednesday: Smallville, followed by Veronica Mars, at least until further notice. I kind of had to watch the SV premiere, but now I'm considering switching to Lost while taping SV. I'm considering it only, though, because it seems like a lot of TV to commit to. Also, I had been under the mistaken impression that it was all about Ian Somerhalder, but it sounds like he's kind of minor in a huge ensemble cast, so I'm less interested than I was even a couple weeks ago.
Thursday: Nothing. I was tempted by all the hype about Joey, until I remembered that I hadn't watched the last four seasons of Friends. I do want to see what Adriana's up to now that she's dead, though.
Friday: Rerun of America's Next Top Model. I got hooked on this late last season. I'm going to assume it will fascinate and repulse me just as much this season, but if I've got something better to do, I can skip this pretty easily.
Saturday: Nothing. And I'm hoping to actually find many reasons to leave the house on Saturday nights anyway.
Sunday: Right now, it's The Wire.
And in this way, I have avoided writing or reading (or getting dressed) for another hour or so...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:06 pm (UTC)And dude, if that's it, don't blame yourself. He's the one eating it.
*hugs you*
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:12 pm (UTC)*nods*
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:19 pm (UTC)Maybe we should go back to the flimsy plastic bathroom wastebaskets so that he'll snack there instead...
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:26 pm (UTC)I think I need ice cream. Ice cream and America's potential next top models in 30 minutes...
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:16 pm (UTC)And if I was psychotically tidy, the dog would never be able to eat bird poop. And if wishes were horses, I would have gotten my fucking pony by now.
*makes special concession to accept a hug, for this occasion only*
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:43 pm (UTC)Seriously, criticism of the vet is making me cry. I'm pathetic.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 07:01 pm (UTC)Now I feel inadequate.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 05:06 pm (UTC)Don't worry about the story. I can hardly claim to be in a rush!
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:46 pm (UTC)Of course, if it turns out to be bacteria, I will have fretted for no reason. Which is nothing new.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:17 pm (UTC)I feel the same guilt when my dog keeps me up with his scratching and biting at himself and I'm too lazy to get up and retrieve the antihistimine.
Think twice before you decide to turn yourself into a cleaning machine - I recently began a new cleaning regimen and caught myself scrubbing the sink at work with Comet. I won't tell you about the strange looks I got.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:53 pm (UTC)The likelihood that I will become a cleaning machine is very low. I'm much better in rending my garments and self-flagellating, just as I am doing now. Still, I'm not entirely taking responsibility until we actually get some lab results back...