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
Off to try a breakfast buffet, full report later.
Later: Not worth the money, we’ll stick with IHOP and Wet Spot.
This 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.
Sue very kindly forwarded a most interesting job posting, which I have this morning applied for.
Working on edits today; I’ll write when the muse comes back and do something else useful in the meantime.
Lovely time watching the Attenborough documentary about the Great Barrier Reef with Keith yesterday; he spent the whole time muttering the names of the tropical fish under his breath. As much as he likes the aquarium shop he’s wanting to get back into the optical trade. I am OBVS in support of this.
HIGHLY recommend Heavy Water War. Really great historical drama about trying to shut down the German capacity to build an a-bomb.
No writing yesterday. Feel like animatronic scrap. Hopefully going shopping this morning will help.
This is a GREAT COMIC. It is so layered about representation, gaming, finding new ways of being and how you feel when your new family member is… well just read it.