Month: February 2016

I am a wreck. One more practice of the children’s story and I’ll go iron my dress.

Paul’s coming to get me in less than an hour.

This number brings us up to yesterday – I haven’t actually written anything today yet.

I am still sick in that I am coughing.  I am quite weak – standing for any length of time is quite difficult.  I keep trying to clean up the kitchen and I honestly can’t stand that long. The horror that is my internal workings continues unabated. I’ve never suffered from this extensive a disinclination to eat when I wasn’t actually running a temperature in my whole life.  I literally can look at nourishing food, and my body rejects the idea of eating it.  I can force myself to eat rice, have maybe one piece of leftover chicken tikka, and drink sweet tea with lemon since there’s no milk in the house and I don’t have it together to get more. I thought about ordering a pizza last night but the idea of paying for it and then just staring at it for a while was too much. I got up and ate three tiny chunks of chicken, forced down some spearmint tea, and went back to bed.  Thus the continued chaos.  I was eating ice cream but I think it made things a lot worse.

 

Jeff seems to have escaped the worst of it thank goodness.

I DON’T believe it. Other earthlike planets exist, and his calculations are wrong-o, me bucko.

 

 

B-b-b-blasting along.  Working flat out on two different sections – when I get stuck on one I go back the other.  Exciting stuff!  George has made a truce with his hair so he can go rescue the Oldest, he has made an evil plan and da boys are drinking on a rooftop garden and talking about life.

After being stalled for so long it sure is nice to see the ticker over 40K.  I won’t have it done by the beginning of April, but it won’t be long now.

Let’s just take it as read that I’m experiencing ghastliness. Cough is down to a dull roar.  Fever comes and goes, never very high.  Jeff is starting to cough.  I FEEL TERRIBLE about this but ey what can you do.

I did remember when I last felt this bad.  The two weeks before we moved to Toronto from Montreal I got chicken pox. I ran a temp of 102 FOR A WEEK and took permanent scars on my chin and forehead. That would have been 20 years ago.

I’m feeling so downcast about just about everything, and it doesn’t help.  I need to do something life affirming and happy, and I simply cahn’t. I am working on revisions though.  My word order is crazy salad sometimes.

Feel really horrible.  I keep getting the chills.

Later: Running a temp of 101.5.  Jeff bought me lemon sorbet because he is awesome.

 

I have a chest cold!  I am usually the last one to get it, and I have a week to get rid of it before Paul’s homily at Beacon. Time to check if the cough medicine expired already, since it’s been ages since I needed it.

 

Lovely productive day yesterday. I have the pathetic fallacy really really badly. Sun comes out and I write! Guess I’m moving to New Mexico, see you later.

I had three creative epiphanies in rapid succession this morning, and gosh it’s wonderful. One is story/fable/possible myth about a rogue sun and a rogue planet becoming a solar system, one is a piece of video memeart which interweaves George Carlin talking about his relationship with the sun (digitally altered to match a beat, but done like white style 30’s talking blues and Max Headroom) with a very cheerful, kiddypop song about how all religion on earth starts with the sun and that everything the sun does makes it seem godlike. After a while you get in a fight with somebody who worships the sun and you say FUCK YOU I don’t want to worship YOUR GOD anymore so you start worshipping THE EARTH instead since the earth is always there and the FUCKING SUN goes away half the goddamned day anyway.  But in kiddy language, you understand, I’m just trying to convey the basic emotion here. I mentioned to Mike that if I was to essay such a thing it would take me ten years. The last thing I thought of was another long poem, one for the sun.

I have figured out how to back George out of his corner. I’m working on another scene right now. Maor l8r

Here’s the series description.

Here’s an excerpt from the second book.

I get to feed Ayesha for the next three days.

This (ed. removed link which as of 2023Sep22 is flagged as malicious.) really did not go where I was expecting.  As a recovering racist, I found it amusing but the more sensitive SJWs among us may find it horrifying.

Really enjoying New Tricks and Call the Midwife.

Not much else to report.

Migraine yesterday, with brilliant, beautiful scotoma, looking like rainbow Enochian symbols rendered by Marcel Duchamp.  Apart from tiredness and feeling like I’d been socked in the gut and waking up at one am like I’d been shot from a cannon (I got back to sleep) no other symptoms.  Hey, the neurologist said I had atypical migraines. Other people on my fl on facebook had migraine poopiness as well.

As you can see no writing.  Making sure that all the people in this scene speak like themselves and not like me is proving more difficult than I had originally planned.

Brendan and Varisha are negotiating a deal for her to study Theo, currently living on her balcony.  Michel has just hauled Slider up a 14 story building at 30 kph.  Hydra is annoying everybody.  Hermes just quit his job as global telecommunicator; every Sixer either has a phone already or doesn’t care.

The Oldest is about ten thousand feet in the air, stuck in the middle of morphing into a space ship, and George is trying to tease the USAF into blowing him up although they’d much rather capture him for study.

The Eighteen (less Hydra) are trying to figure out how Sixer civil society will work going forward, which efforts are boring the living shit out of the old school Sixers, who would rather do something practical or entertaining.  After their first round of talks  they are going to scatter across BC to learn the indigenous languages.

Various religious and political dignitaries were invited to part of the talks, which took place on tribal territory; the hosts provided a little food but the Catholics, Mennonites and Sikhs all brought tons and everybody else either forgot or thought somebody else was taking care of it.  So it was a feast in spite of itself.

It’s VERY ANNOYING.  I am going backwards.  I ripped out 400 words yesterday and wrote almost enough to end up where I started, but the scene – which is pivotal to understanding the depths of the friendship Michel feels to the two humans he is closest to – now rollicks instead of bollocks, so yay me.

Happy valentines day.  I sent out Galentines yesterday and I have one to distribute today.