30 November 2007

Tap, tap, tap...squeal!

*shows off shiny badge of honor*

My story is about 50,208 words at the moment, and it's terrible. Seriously, when LKH writes better porn, you have problems. But! I did it! For the first time ever. I won the shiny little badge of honor. Go team me. I worked my butt off. Heeh! And it makes little to no sense, but I at least I know I can do it now. And that's all I needed to know, I think. That it was possible.

And now I go to sleep because I have to get up in the morning to start our dinner in the crockpot at 10am. We're having pork tenderlion cooked in margarine and Riesling wine, with spices of course. And it has to cook for like eight hours, four on high and four on low.

Oh, and apparently some 46-year-old man in my class has decided that my niceness bout helping him pass a few of his classes means he wants me. Just, no. Dude, he's my dad's age. Just, no. *shudders* And he's kinda missing a few screws. Okay, more than a few. He's been calling the past two days like five times. Yeah, exactly, kids. What the hell? I don't need stalker, I really don't.

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26 November 2007

She's not a peer group, she's supper

We all know I can't sleep for shit, so I'm still awake at 4:00am. I was flipping channels and came upon The Hallmark Channel, which is not actually that unusual. I love watching Walker at 1am every night since usually nothing else is on. Anyway, so I get there and I see Bridget Fonda looking hot in white, like entirely white. I went, "Is this some movie version of The Snow Queen?" I loved that story as a child, ironic since I hate the cold, but I looked around on IMDB.com and then tried to download it (sadly, no one seems to have it right now) until I can buy it. Because, dude, Bridget was hot. Ahem. But then I started watching it and I really, really liked it.

The fact I'm a fantasy geek is not news to anyone here, either. I love it to pieces. And the styling reminded me so much of The 10th Kingdom and Merlin, other awesome miniseries I adore. And of course, I always get giddy when I catch The Magical Legend of the Leprechauns on the television around St. Patrick's Day. And let's not discuss the newer versions of Dune and Children of Dune by Sci Fi that I'm practically engaged to, shall we? So this is not news that shiny, new fantasy things are like crack to a whore at the bus station for me. Then I found that was made in 2002.

How did I not know my crack existed?! People! Readers! You are falling down on the job! I must know these things. Because. It. Is. My. Crack. Even more than urban fantasy (as long as we can chuck LKH and her PWP Anita Blake series out the window, please) and the hot smexings of Anne Bishop's Black Jewels Trilogy and assorted stories in that universe.

Seriously, dude. My crack. I want my crack more! I missed the first hour and only saw the last bit. I just. I want it! I will have to wait until either Christmas (which is probably not happening since I need to replace the money on my financial aid card more) or Tax Return Season. I just. You have no idea. Maybe I'll buy more of those miniseries, if I can find them on sale. Visual crack does a body good, damn it.

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22 November 2007

Gobble, gobble!

I hope everyone had a fabulous Turkey Day. Or maybe I should say Football Day, since I am in the South. We went out to our annual dining place (no need to cook for two people), and I went to my mom's for some time. It was nice to see my family, well some of them. Aunt Lisa has Marie Osmond's hyena laugh, except mixed with a twanged nails on chalkboard little extra. Fabulous. But it was nice to see them.

And now I need to get back to my word count. I plan on not moving too much tomorrow. I don't really fancy having a wreck during Black Friday. I live between two malls and an interstate. I'm too smart for that.

Reading LMQ's post on getting a new digi cam reminded me that I need to get a new one. See, mine is so cool that it randomly decided to not take the lens back into the damn thing, in the middle of the night. So I don't have have one, but I totally need one in like 3 weeks. Go Team Nikon!

So what's a girl to do? Go to Ebay! Except there are some seriously delusional people on that place. And some assholes, but we'll start with the delusional first. People are selling new ones for like 400 bucks...while they're like half that in the stores. Hello? Common sense would tell me to buy it from the store for that difference.

Now, the assholes. Those are the people that snipe shit. God forbid you be on a limited budget and that's why you're trying to use the site cause you have a limited budget. I mean, if I had the 300 for the camera, I could go to the store! Let me repeat that: if I could afford the camera, I'd buy it from a store I can return it to if it breaks. I'm just saying. So, I'm desperately hoping for a camera in the next couple days, so I can take pics when we go to Florida, for our reference points. And when we tour apartments.

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This is why we can't have nice things...

So, I ignore the news around Atlanta pretty often. Come on, y'all have seen the utter shit from the local news being picked up worldwide has produced. Imagine that every single day. Yeah.

So what did I find when I randomly tuned in earlier today? Oh, I found this. Apparently sex offenders? Have the total right to live around small children. Because clearly all the psychologists are wrong, and people aren't repeat offenders. That it's curable. Uh huh. Right. I wonder how many people clapping about this law overturn actually realize what really goes on in offenders' brains during that. I mean, it's not like there's research on it or anything. Oh, wait.

God, this is why my stupid state can't have jack. Because they're all a bunch of moronic idiots with the IQ of a decomposing fish. Good lord. The stupid is mind-boggling, I think.

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18 November 2007

Hell In A Handbasket, YAY!

Okay, I know it's been forever since I updated. Like half a month. Sorry! I've been torn between school, writing, taking mom to the doctors, reading urban fantasy like crazy, and trying to stay awake. Oh, and laughing my everloving ass off at the stupid at the Lexicon people. In case you're unaware, the Lexicon is an online encyclopedia for Harry Potter. And the editor and owner, Steve Vander Ark decided to publish this. Yes, he did indeed decide to publish an encyclopedia of copyrighted material, and thought it could pass off as critical essays.

His publisher (and him) decided to ignore a lot of JKR and WB's requests to see the manuscript and if not, than to cease and desist. Let's just say they were slow enough to be left behind at the bus stop, kay? And the publisher, from Michigan (haha, Michigan peoples, you get the crazy this time), has compared someone protecting their intellectual property as a police state, the Japan bombings, David and Voldemort (yes, you read that right), and David and Goliath. You really can't make this stupid up, I promise.

The best part was SVA asked JKR to write an encyclopedia with him, but she refused, so he did it on his own. On her website, she gives out awards and stuff for awesome websites that are informative. Lexicon has been around for something like at least five years. I was in the fandom for awhile and used to occasionally look over if I forgot any info for a Potter story I was writing. Though, it was rarely about Harry himself, because I wanted to kill the little bastard with all his whining. Seriously, dude, your parents aren't bugfuck nuts and can't remember you exist because of them. Shut up already. I swear, I shipped Harry/Buffy (of Vampire Slayer fame) for a damn good reason. He could probably be slashed (same sex) with Peter from Heroes, too.

Anyway, the ironic part is that JKR didn't mind the online version because it was a good resource that even she had used once or twice. And it didn't try and profit off her work. Yeah, boyo missed the Common Sense Boat and fell straight into Entitlement River of Denial.

Ahem, there's a buttload more, but a) I don't think you care and b) it's more time consuming to know than MsScribes was. And that bitch got minor press coverage. All the RDR Books (publisher) vs JKR stuff has been happening since Halloween. I love it when celebrities give me presents on holidays. But he fucks up Fandom (as in all communities about any and every show) I will be forced to run up there and kick someone's ass...using a shovel.

I'll be going to Florida the second week of December to the third. I'll have the computer, but I don't know if the hotel will have wifi. We'll see. I have my final the night before we leave. Next semester I'm taking four classes. Woohoo. Intro to Anthropology (I'm hoping this teacher doesn't harp on evolution like my other attempt at my first college did), World History to 1500, Intermediate Algebra (read: the second semester of my stupid math), and an online Geography class.

I have a lot more, but I'll talk about it later. I need to get to bed. I still have to write about 3500 words tomorrow to catch up, and do some errands.

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01 November 2007

Thump, thump, thump...oh shit!

So, I promised a Hell House story. Sorry it's late. It's been a bitch of a couple days, and to boot, I lost my blood meter and the insulin I'd been using at school today. Luckily, I have my Humalog extras here, but not Lantus, so I need to go deal with that later. Plus, I had that Regents writing test. Y'all, it's basically an effort to make us look smarter. The test is so easy it's pathetic.

Okay, on with the story. Now it's obvious that my godmom moved, yes? And without her mom, who died in the house. Hey, we weren't kidding when we said the house killed her. Because it killed or maimed just about everyone there. She found a buyer, a woman that had a couple million in the bank and a new younger husband. On top of the world. After my mom reduced the house a hundred grand, just to get rid of the damn thing. This would be the lady whose painters shot up the walls (after painting them a lovely shiny, hard as hell to get rid of enamel paint in primary colors) and her husband liquidated everything, leaving her penniless. Oh, and last time Mama heard about her, was in a state mental hospital.

That means...time to hire a mover. Simple process. Pick one that's from a major company out of the phone book, hope to hell they're reliable, and you're good to go. And that's exactly what my godmom did. So the guy in charge comes over to assess the house and how much it'd cost to move. Of course the ghosts aren't happy because they can scare someone they know here. Or make her angry. Or both.

They're moving along and dealing with the psycho ghosts; she's just saying the resident ghosts are kicking up a storm. The usual thing to hear in the area, actually. Except then the ghosts do something so terrifying (and I've never been clear in understanding, and she's never explained it thoroughly) that he has a heart attack on the 4th floor. Which is three flights of steps. Which means the EMTs have to climb up them and down, or take the elevator. Only the elevator's made for like two people and not a lot. So they have to use the stairs.

Mom's pretty much used to dialing 9-1-1 at this point, so no big deal. And, of course, she's assuming the movers are out. Only, they're not. Totally in for moving her, even if the house did give the dude the heart attack. Now the kicker is that he's reduced the price in half! That's right. To move from Myrtle Beach to Atlanta is now half the price. And she had a house full of furniture that hadn't sold so it had to come with her; along with her clothes, kitchen stuff, usual housewares. Doesn't matter. The guy made it clear that she "had to be out of that house as soon as the last document was signed." And she was. They were out of there that day. Four floors. That's some serious dedication.

So how many houses have you lived in that caused someone to have a massive heart attack that landed him/her in the hospital for quite awhile?

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