Word count

In the grip of graphomania, again, but at least I’m working on paying projects again. Tangled Angels is up to 32K words so I need to grind through another 25K to be at book length.
Posted 18K of Destiel fic. I’m so ashamed, but I still have to own it. That last episode, though, really kicked queerbaiting up several notches. I’m ashamed to be a fan, I truly am.

Here’s an interesting take on US politics.

Ain’t nobody’s business if I do

There are few things more entertaining than having a former lover sniffing around and being able to repel boarders (so to speak), and unworthy thoughts of weakening into “Well mebbe just this once” territory, with a well timed “So have your girlfriend call me and we’ll thrash out the poly thing while you aren’t in the room!”

PHUT

Doesn’t take much.

I’m thinking of having HOLD FAST tattooed on my knuckles, but only long enough to envision what pOp would say, and nope.

sleepy boy

So yesterday I pulled my tarot ‘day card’ at midnight, as one does when one works the graveyard shift, and it was ‘The World’. And so I immediately thought this:

Mark 8:36 King James Version (KJV)

36 For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

And then I thought, what is my soul?

And the answer came, “My family.”

And I realized I hadn’t seen Alex in a month (or it seems so) and burst into tears.

I came home and watched the Expanse with Jeff, and then burst into tears again and said I have to see him.

So I did.

I came in the door and he ran up to it, grinning and nodding, starkers, because he was about to get in the bath with mom.

I was overcome by tiredness and Katie said lie down on the big bed and sleep, and then she brought Alex, made sleepy by his bath, to lie next to me.

And we took a nap together for 2.5 hours, and at one point I whispered to him that he would be warmer if he cuddled with me, and he said “Yuh” and launched himself at me, but I turned my head and so he didn’t break my nose. He woke up snuffling and crying a couple of times and because Zizi was there he could settle down again.

I don’t ever want it to go that long again without seeing him. I was in physical pain, like glass was breaking in my chest.

Thanks Katie and Alex, you refilled my ‘heart bucket’.

I just took toilet paper to Psych Emerg because the two count’em two HK staff didn’t think an hour old stat page was worth their attention. I fully expect to get into trouble about this, and if I do, I’m going to go back to psych emerg and tell them I got shit for it, and then I’ma buy popcorn.

For I know, since I clear their cache for them, that both the full time staffers on days and afternoons are looking hard like hard hard for better work. Disciplinary measures never looked so good in prospect. Like I said. Popcorn.

Editing progresses. I think, after all this Supernatural fanfic (I’ve written 50K words since the middle of January…. insane, right??) it’s time I quit trying to pull someone else’s canoe to shore.

Some kind soul left a box of jalebi in the cafeteria and in a shameful show of carnal weakness I absconded with one. But only one. Hand to god, only one.

weather whither

Commute into work tonight was horrific; I arrived, 7 minutes late and as cold as a damp grave, after leaving the house literally an hour early. Translink, which had been faithfully waking me up every fifteen minutes with pings on my phone about cancelled buses, had fallen silent so I assumed, entirely wrongly, that the buses were now running. Anyway, stood in the freezing rain for a long fucking time before a bus came, and got to watch people behave like arrestable idiots on Canada Way.

Shoveled the walkways before I left for work; if the snow stays snow I’ll have to do it again when I get home; if the rain comes it will depend whether the temperature stays above freezing or not. More salt must be purchased; this is obviously not going to be the last snow of the year, since the arctic outflow conditions over the balance of the winter will only too swiftly return….

Why I love my daughter

I will admit that of late my thoughts have not been entirely kindly toward Katie, as I am still quite miserable about what happened with the store, and have not yet learned to let go of it. However, there are times I love her fiercely, and today she provided an easily parsed example of why.

She posted pictures of playing in the snow with her little family. Alex and Dax and her. And the next post was Bill Nye offering another defence of women’s rights, in the form of reproductive rights.

Yeah. Fierce girl, fierce.

Sneers with scorn

So Nick Kouvalis got himself kicked off Kelly Leitch’s campaign, only to have John Tory, Mayor of Toronto, spring to his defense?  Bleaugh. I mocked him on twitter and then he got fired, but I don’t think the two events are connected.  If they are, go me. Just so’s you know, I support Maxime Bernier, who has a sense of humour without being a complete er gendered slur.

I referred to Kellyanne Conway as a bonebag.  Go me.

Breaking up is hard to do, once you’re yoked to the Feds, or maybe not.

I’m sleeping TOO MUCH.  Having to shovel snow every fucking time I’m awake prob’ly has something to do with this. Now it’s time to eat my dinner at the office.

As soon as this flurry of work settles down I’ll be editing book#2 for the last pass prior to epublication.

 

I posted the first para on fb, now look what my friends said.

I have now learned what happens when you put bubble tea in the fridge overnight, and I have a big first world sad. The tapioca pearls become tasteless rabbit pellets of regret.

Kevin M said:  Yuck

Shane said :  Rabbit pellets of regret. BAHAHAHAHAH!
Diane said: Become?
Allegra Sloman said : I swear it was translucent and looked like fairy snot not six hours ago.
Andi said: And that was….better???

Juliana said:  Personally, I think it starts out that way but YMMV.
Andi said: I don’t drink lumpy drinks.

Debbie said: Man, you kill me, Allegra.

Lynn said: Interesting. I tried making bubble tea at home and wound up with a pot of lumpy tapioca paste (and no, I did not use the microwave!).

Janice said: Oh! That’s what regret tastes like!

Allegra said: Believe me, regret has *many* flavors.

Kevin said: I’ll have the rabbit pellets of regret please. Unless the leftover stir fry of soggy disappointment is on special

Lois said: Leftover stir fry of soggy disappointment……..Yum!

Erin said: That’s the best thing I’ve read all day!

Miles Vorkosigan said:  The Tasteless Rabbit Pellets of Regret is now the name of my Robin Thicke cover band.

a very partial list

A very partial list of what you can do after five six Muslims were shot dead at the CCIQ in Québec:

Tell Kellie Leitch to **** off and die for her disingenuously offering thoughts and prayers ‘regarding the situation in Quebec’ — carefully not mentioning it was Muslims getting shot. She’s one of the most persistently wretched and nasty Islamophobes currently seeking to lead the Conservative Party, and although I defended her when she got doxxed, I’d cheerfully pie her at this point.

Support charities doing the hard work on the ground getting Muslim refugees resettled.

Send individual letters of support to local mosques. Phone calls are great too but a letter is more substantial.

Go to the facebook page of a local mosque and offer a message of support.

Tell your Muslim neighbours and coworkers that you will not be quiet when Islamophobic comments are made in your vicinity. Ask them what they want to hear allies say, to strengthen your resolve and calm your nerves about saying the right thing. If speaking out was easy more people would do it. Don’t let that stop you.

When their site is secure -it’s behaving quite oddly at the moment – donate to the CCIQ dot org as they will need funds to restore their sanctuary. Keep an eye out for news on the mosque well after the news cycle expires; there may be charities which spring up for those affected, and the horror of this shooting will continue to be part of the community for years to come.

And you know what? It doesn’t matter what the religion is of the felons.  What matters is that the violence enables those who hate Muslims and darkies and immigrants.

coming home today

I feel horrible. Physically I’m okay, but the political sitch in the States is appalling, and I’m staying across the street from SeaTac, and people I know and love put their lives and sacred honour on the line this weekend to protest. It’s hard not to be worried.

I was so stressed I got up and ran away from the luncheon.  I’ve been hiding in my room for most of the con; came out to open filk for about an hour, saw Char McKay’s concert, saw Vixy and Tony’s concert, but otherwise I’ve been feeling so sickened by the state of the world I want to hide and stay hidden.

Paul’s coming to get me later on this morning and I can go home – to work at 11 o’clock tonight.  I flipped back to being diurnal this weekend so it’s gonna be ****ing carnage.

Fortunately, I have a Denis O’Leary and a Kellie Leitch to prevent from leading the Conservative party in Canada, Islamophobia to fight, and books to edit, and songs to write, and people to love on and feed and snuggle with, and a grandson who needs me to fight for the world he deserves. And a job. I can’t forget that. It’s not a good job, but it’s still worthwhile. I’ll be training the weekend midnights person tonight, apparently.

at the con

I drove Paul and I down here; I’m at the Seatac Doubletree.  Started fading around 6, stopped for food, got going again.

Had a lovely, lovely world building conversation with Jen,  spoke to Tom briefly, tried to stay in the GOH concert and ****ing near FROZE leading me to believe that I was actually too tired to regulate my body temperature so I went to bed and now it’s 3:34 and I haven’t slept till this time in the morning in I don’t know how long.  There will still be people filking downstairs but grabbing Otto and walking half a kilometre to get there – this hotel is ****ING HUGE – has little appeal right.now.

Me ‘n hotel beds, man, it’s like all I want to do is sleep.

Arranged steak dinner with Lemming, as per the prophecy; “And the Lemming shall meet in the foreordained place with the crabby old lady, and she will feed him the flesh of beasts and the words of sages.”

 

 

23 books WHO’S GOT IKOSATRIAPHOBIA NOW

I have another shift to survive – and depart from, since sadly I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m going to be relieved in the morning on time, which at this point is like, ok lol. And then I’m at Conflikt X, yay.

Paul’s giving me a lift down and hopefully back again… I may have to take transit north to meet up with him for the ride back but frankly I’m going to worry about that later.  Over the years I’ve realized that I only need to take five things to con. My phone, my computer, a bag full of clothes, my passport/wallet and Otto. Everything else almost inevitably proves to be surplus to requirements and sorrowful hard to lug around.

Paul and I walked up to the new pho restaurant on Edmonds and had a lovely meal, my treat.