posted by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
selkie at 08:56am on 18/02/2005
selkie at 08:56am on 18/02/2005It is criminal how not-yummy a Caramel Apple Luna Bar is. Like, they left in the apple-skins. Yerk. If they took Nuts Over Chocolate off the market for that flavour, I am peeved.
About a hundred words done on the Scythian snow maiden thing. I think I had better write the pr0n and work around that, as terrifyingly gauche as that seems, because really, sex sets the tone for everything. (By 'write' in this case I mean 'take it out of the notebook where everything goes to die'.) But I have this inner moral squick about typing up sex scenes on my fiancee's computer. One needs one's own laptop to hide the pr0n! Even if one writes it oneself.
You know what I've been looking at again recently? Dramatis Personae. This will mean something only to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sovay, but you know, I think it is a good story. Maybe I'll send it somewhere. I spent about a year not-liking it because I liked it, if that makes a modicum of sense.
Work continues soul-crushingly apace, but today is a day of rest. And shopping.
Oh, and there is reason to believe they farked up my direct deposit again, on the basis that they cut me a live cheque last pay-period and the direct deposit still hasn't posted to my account and it is Friday, people, WTF?
I wish the stories would start talking to me again.
ETA: You know what, fuck it. I'm going to go read my nice little Dostoevsky until I remember that I have the intellect to comprehend such things, and let the internet stew in its own juices for a while.
ETA, II: Why is one not allowed to believe one is brilliant? I am brilliant. My fiancee is brilliant. I surround myself with brilliant, exciting people. Eighty percent of the world stares at the people I hang out with and says Bzuh? when they speak, they wax so witty and eloquent. Why are we not yet ruling the world?
About a hundred words done on the Scythian snow maiden thing. I think I had better write the pr0n and work around that, as terrifyingly gauche as that seems, because really, sex sets the tone for everything. (By 'write' in this case I mean 'take it out of the notebook where everything goes to die'.) But I have this inner moral squick about typing up sex scenes on my fiancee's computer. One needs one's own laptop to hide the pr0n! Even if one writes it oneself.
You know what I've been looking at again recently? Dramatis Personae. This will mean something only to
sovay, but you know, I think it is a good story. Maybe I'll send it somewhere. I spent about a year not-liking it because I liked it, if that makes a modicum of sense.Work continues soul-crushingly apace, but today is a day of rest. And shopping.
Oh, and there is reason to believe they farked up my direct deposit again, on the basis that they cut me a live cheque last pay-period and the direct deposit still hasn't posted to my account and it is Friday, people, WTF?
I wish the stories would start talking to me again.
ETA: You know what, fuck it. I'm going to go read my nice little Dostoevsky until I remember that I have the intellect to comprehend such things, and let the internet stew in its own juices for a while.
ETA, II: Why is one not allowed to believe one is brilliant? I am brilliant. My fiancee is brilliant. I surround myself with brilliant, exciting people. Eighty percent of the world stares at the people I hang out with and says Bzuh? when they speak, they wax so witty and eloquent. Why are we not yet ruling the world?
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