Halloween Redux

1) I have realized why goth dancing is so self-involved and isolated (aka, showoffy). If anyone at a goth club actually looked at each other dancing, they would realize all goths dance like fantastic nerds and critical issues of self-image would arise.

2) Like professional petty thieves, nightclub sexual predators can be picked out at fifty paces. I am simultaneously grateful for this and irritated at the lack of dedication people put into their work. Lazy, lazy unsubs.

3) I don't actually like the look of myself tarted up. I look like someone else and I am wary of her.

4) The awesome Docs with skulls on them are officially broken in, because I danced in them for a few hours and there was no pain, no fuss.

5) The universe is interestingly fickle. Yes, that's all I'm saying about that.

6) Pursuant to its fickleness, it is sometimes good for us to be reminded that we are not as in control of the world -- inside our heads or out of it -- as we think we are. There will be some serious rethinking of what I'm doing in some aspects of my life this weekend. Because wow, am I ever playing with fire.

That's all I'm saying about that too.

Light the sky and hold on tight

November 1, 2007 Progress Notes:

"Tinker, Tailor"

Words today: 1950.
Words total: 1950.
Reason for stopping: Running out of steam.
Tea: Assam with some chai spice and milk.
Munchies: Mac and cheese.
Exercise: N/A, but there was dancing last night.
Mail: Nomail.

Darling du Jour: There was in the city of Ter'etzlan a great maker of hearts, and his clockworks ground and clanged through the towered night. In that time Ter'etzlan was a harbour; since the world ended its seas have dried up, its people turned their hands to the rearing of horses. But in that time it was a harbour, and the bells and spires and turning of gears drew ships from across the world.

Tyop du Jour: "Tell me what you desire, and I can forget you a new one." It should be forge; I saw it, and it was so very Freudian, and bitterly I did laugh.
Words MS Word Doesn't Know: ungrasping, crowcalls, prickings, stitchable, beesting, sunburnt
Research Roundup: Nothing, actually. Although I had to check the name of the city in the scrap of novel that comes later, when the seas have dried up and the people turn their hands to the rearing of horses.

Mean Things: Heartbreak. The failure of fairytale logic. The inability to make someone stop hurting.
Books in progress: Catherynne M. Valente, The Orphan's Tales: In the Cities of Coin and Spice; textbooks.
The glamour: The liquid eyeliner I used last night will not entirely come off. I look tired, but no tireder than I feel.

---

The title for this was the right title when I started writing it, but I don't think it is still the right title. I will have to find a new one. We can do that when we stop starting new stories and finish a few of them.

Also, I bought yarn:

jmeadows: leah, I just saw on your lj how much yarn you ordered
jmeadows: *cackles*
katallen: yaaaaaaaaaaarn
katallen: ahoy!
cristalia: hee.
cristalia: three more blue, two sage green, two rose.
cristalia: I will not run out of yarn again, oh no.
katallen: this is how stashes form :-)
jmeadows: yes...
tanaise: heh.
jmeadows: I should send you a picture of my stash
jmeadows: it grows mighty
cristalia: also, by my reckoning, this should get me to the end of this scarf and then three more scarves.
cristalia: by which time I will probably be all ready to learn how to do a thing that isn't a scarf. *g*
tanaise: where was your "I'll just get one more ball, that will be my treat for next month?"
cristalia: it was weak. we had it killed behind the city.
tanaise: Thought so.
cristalia: also, the shipping upon the yarn was free, so.
tanaise: FisCon is dead, long live FisCon!