so christmas is over. all of the rushing around is done, the presents have been given and received, too much food has been consumed, and life is beginning to show signs of returning to normal.
thank the gods for that!
it was a quiet day in the end - just me and hubby at my aunty's, along with my parents and great uncle. it was slow and lovely. as was the food. *happy sigh*
the following two days (today and yesterday) have been somewhat more trying though.
i have three grown-up stepchildren (aged from 17 to 21). eldest stepson and partner have an eight-month-old. they all have very long legs. and there is only seating for five adults in our front room. given that the main activity when they come round tends to be computer games, and we have one less seat than we need, i have spent most of the last two days in the kitchen, wandering around on the internet, and doing little of use. i tried to edit Cirque Du Seul, but the kitchen chairs are not the most cofortable in the world, and i just couldn't get into it.
tonight, they left, and the peace is bliss. i think Literary Kitteh was happy to see them go, too. the minute the front door shut behind them, he was happily curled up on the settee, snoozing as only a kitteh can. and i have been writing a little.
anyone who saw the last couple of posts will perhaps have seen comments and some excellent drabbles from Liz. this evening, she asked me for some different source words so, with an evil laugh, i gave her "ennui", "squamous", and "shriven". she then announced that she was upping the word limit to 250.
now ok - i'll admit that this bothered me a little. in art, conventions and rules can be bent and broken with gay abandon by whosoever should wish to do so - that's one of the glorious things about it. sometimes it produces genius, sometimes a big steaming pile of... well, never mind. you get the idea, i'm sure. but personally? i rather like artistic conventions. i find they give me structure and purpose when i would otherwise be flailing around and in steaming territory. clear parameters are something i find i need more than i would have thought possible. still in the playpen, you see.
anyway, i went and had a dip in wikipedia, and found that the definition of a drabble has become somewhat more loose than i initially thought. however, i still rather like the pushing and wriggling of trying to fit into the 100 word constraint. it's an interesting challenge. but there is, apparently, such a thing as a "droubble" or a double drabble (see the end of the article). exactly 200 words. so i put this to Liz, and she agreed. she suggested, though, that since this is double the word limit, we should have double the source words. fine by me. i'd actually already started writing my droubble by this point, but that's fine - it's a further challenge to see if i can crowbar the words into what i had in mind. but she has not, as yet, got back to me with those three extra source words, so i have finished the one i was writing, and await the arrival of the new words. when they arrive, i may, indeed, try and crowbar them in, or i may just (which is also more likely) write a whole new one. here's the droubble wot i wrote, anyway - along with a couple of drabbles that also happened this evening:
droubble
ennui/squamous/shriven
He had done everything. He had swum with dolphins, playing with them in the crystalline waters of the Caribbean. He had jumped from a high bridge attached to a piece of elastic cord. He had witnessed a sunrise from space, and a sunset from the top of a mountain. He had travelled through deserts and jungles and cities and tundra, drinking in all that was on offer from the landscape around him.
And then ennui had set in. Surely his odyssey had shown him all that this shrunken planet had to offer. After all, he had flown the length and breadth of the planet more times than he could count. What could there be that he had not already seen? He returned to his vast mansion set in its endless acres and gloomily flipped through his electronic photo library, looking for details that he may have missed. And then it hit him. Staring at an accidental picture of his shoe, his squamous eyes opened, and he felt shriven of the soul- weariness plaguing him. Rushing to his vast wardrobe, he grabbed the first pair of walking boots he could find, and set off into the world.
This time, on foot.
drabbles
effortless / doubt / propensity
She envied others' art. The seemingly effortless melding of incidents and accidents that produced things of great terror and beauty filled her with longing. The propensity to doubt her own abilities led her to dismiss those who told her she had talent, and to seek darker avenues to improve her own art.
Trading with demons in dark alleys, she swapped a piece of her soul for each new ability. At last, she had what she thought she needed. Exhibiting her works to the world, she proudly waited for reviews to flood in. A tide of comments containing one word:
"Soulless."
dissolve / books / revolution
The revolution had come and gone. It left in its wake a vague feeling of "Meet the new boss - same as the old boss". And one other difference. There were no more books. The glorious republic had decided that books were antiquated, had outlived their time. But no matter. There was all the new technology that still allowed storytelling without all of that cumbersome paper getting in the way. Now there was only the sharp clarity of electrical impulses speaking to each other. But without the feel, sight and smell of books, the culture began slowly, imperceptibly, to dissolve.
still waiting for those words, Liz... ;o)
.
(edit - added after comments posted)
so as you can see in the comments, i got my three extra words, and made this:
ennui/squamous/shriven/sniffle/evocative/muse
The ennui had passed.
The slithering, squamous creatures that haunted his dreams had ceased their vile hissing whispers. He'd laboured in darkness for seeming aeons, hacking and scratching with rusty pen and clotted ink at damp, spongy paper. Not an evocative word in sight. The moist chill in the air making him sniffle interminably, he'd pushed his way through the thorny vines of writer's block, wondering if his torment would ever end. He knew he'd brought it on himself. By allowing himself to become distracted by the worst dregs of popular culture, he'd alienated his sensitive and capricious muse, and she'd left. Her punishment was harsh. Unrelenting. He'd toiled for weeks on end to make amends - eschewing television, newspaper, magazine and radio, just to create sufficient space for her. He decorated the space with strange blooms, sumptuous fabrics, elegant sweetmeats and champagne. He carried it in his head as he hacked through the stinking, half-rotted vegetation of z-list celebrity and tabloid journalism, cradling it carefully and keeping it inviolate.
Eventually, a ray of golden inspiration hit him full in the face and, as he felt her pour into the space he'd so carefully created, he knew he was shriven.
.
Showing posts with label rules for writing?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rules for writing?. Show all posts
Monday, 27 December 2010
Friday, 18 June 2010
blogfest: advice for new writers
today, the black dog is prowling. i told Twitter about it, and my tweeps instantly set about cheering me up. or, in one particular case *looks hard at @peevishpenman* bullying me to do something about it. Carrie's suggestion was to join her blogfest.
after a little persuasion, i guess i may have one or two things to add, with the caveat that most of the advice probably comes not from me, but from Saint Neil (better known as Neil Gaiman - thoroughly bigged up in this post on how i became a writer and got my name).
1) write. just write. doesn't matter what. emails, blog posts, poems, short stories, scenes, *anything*. if you haven't been trained, you need the practice. even if you *have* been trained, it'll keep the writing muscles in your brain nice and limber.
2) write about stuff you find interesting. if *you're* not interested, your readers sure as hell won't be.
3) read. lots. sounds obvious, i know, but that's how i learned to write. just by having my nose (literally) in a book from the age of seven or eight.
4) read different stuff to what you'e used to. you may not enjoy a lot of it, and that's fine. but *give it a chance* before you put it down and say "this isn't for me". you may be surprised. also, it will give you clues as to what you in particular probably *shouldn't* be writing. (see #2)
5) ask yourself "what if?" ALL THE TIME. this is how stories are made.
6) most importantly (for me, at any rate) find a support network!!! seriously. Twitter (where i found mine) has more value to me as a writer than i could possibly, possibly express. for advice, opening up new genres, and a vast, limitless supply of support, encouragement and Twitterlove, i woldn't call myself a writer if it wasn't for those little 140 character messages, cheering me on from all over the world.
it gives me the warm fuzzies. ^_^
hey, carrie, whadya know? it seems to be working! *smile*
.
after a little persuasion, i guess i may have one or two things to add, with the caveat that most of the advice probably comes not from me, but from Saint Neil (better known as Neil Gaiman - thoroughly bigged up in this post on how i became a writer and got my name).
1) write. just write. doesn't matter what. emails, blog posts, poems, short stories, scenes, *anything*. if you haven't been trained, you need the practice. even if you *have* been trained, it'll keep the writing muscles in your brain nice and limber.
2) write about stuff you find interesting. if *you're* not interested, your readers sure as hell won't be.
3) read. lots. sounds obvious, i know, but that's how i learned to write. just by having my nose (literally) in a book from the age of seven or eight.
4) read different stuff to what you'e used to. you may not enjoy a lot of it, and that's fine. but *give it a chance* before you put it down and say "this isn't for me". you may be surprised. also, it will give you clues as to what you in particular probably *shouldn't* be writing. (see #2)
5) ask yourself "what if?" ALL THE TIME. this is how stories are made.
6) most importantly (for me, at any rate) find a support network!!! seriously. Twitter (where i found mine) has more value to me as a writer than i could possibly, possibly express. for advice, opening up new genres, and a vast, limitless supply of support, encouragement and Twitterlove, i woldn't call myself a writer if it wasn't for those little 140 character messages, cheering me on from all over the world.
it gives me the warm fuzzies. ^_^
hey, carrie, whadya know? it seems to be working! *smile*
.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
insomnia, storms, little brother and powerless.
as usual for a weekend, i went to bed quite late last night. well, it was about 1:30 this morning, actually. but i couldn't sleep.
for three reasons.
the first was that it was hot and muggy. about this, i won't complain. it's inconvenient, sure, but this country can be so effing cold and miserable at times, that i refuse to complain when it's hot, as a matter of principle. i love the hot weather, even if it makes me dopey and listless, it's still better than being cold! also, it's the sort of weather that produces one of my favourite things in the whole world. we spent a good half hour last night, dangling our legs out of our bedoom window watching a storm at about seven miles distance. *sigh* it was the first of the year, and utter bliss. it was perfectly still, and the clouds were lighting up in the distance with that unearthly beauty you only get on summer nights.
the second was that i had a new story idea knocking on my brain. this, of course, pleased me. i haven't been writing a lot, lately, as i have other things on my mind, and it's kind of hard to settle to it, but i'm thrilled that i'm still thinking as a writer, even wen i'm not writing. to me, it's another tiny step towards that place i want to be - someone who needs to write. (heh - in writing that, i realised that what i'm doing is attempting to cultivate an addiction. naughty Squeaky! *grin*) i spent a lot of time thinking about this story, and how it might go - disconnected elements i might throw in, and i hope it will be the backbone of this year's NaNoWriMo effort, but we'll have to see. i know little about it, just how it starts and, as i said, one or two random bits that may or may not be in the middle. it sort of stems from the description duel i was involved in at the beginning of the year. i had an idea there might be more to it at the time, but for some reason, it started to put some roots into the story silt last night. but i'm not going to chase it. with me, that doesn't seem to be the way forward. nor planning a story arc or indeed (as i think i've mentioned before) outlining a plot. somehow, it loses the excitement of the writing. it makes me wonder if that's because i started writing with NaNoWriMo - that heady, exciting, headlong rush down the pathways of the story seems to have set itself as the pattern for me. i'm not a thoughtful, introspective type of person. and, if i'm honest, those sort of books don't generally float my boat. what can i say? i'm instinctive, impulsive and exciteable, and very much enjoy that kind of book, too.
which sort of brings me to the third reason that i couldn't sleep. i'd been reading a book that filled my brain with fireworks, both good and bad. i read half of it yesterday, and half of it today. and i urge you, as an internet user, to do the same. the book is called "Little Brother" by a man named Cory Doctorow. it's about how the surveillance culture that we live in can go horribly, horribly wrong. it's about security, and privacy, and (most attractively for me, as i always, *always* wanted to be like this) about a bunch of geeky teenagers who take on the might of The Man. And Kick. His. Ass. it's *really* exciting, and explains some of the arcana of the internet in a way i could just about grasp. and it was fascinating.
truly - geeks are the future.
sadly, i think i'm possibly too old to become any kind of computer/communications geek now, and my mathematical understanding is most assuredly not up to the job. but i have such a huge admiration for geeks of *every* stripe - not just the electronic ones. if there's any sort of justice around, never mind the meek inheriting the earth - i think the geeks should.
speaking of books wot i haz read, i would like to bring your attention to another one whilst (or, rather, *if*) i still have your ear. this one is the first in a YA fantasy series. Powerless Book 1: The Synthesis is written by Jason Letts, also known as @foreverjuly . you may have seen him wandering around on Twitter at odd hours of the day or night (he teaches English in Japan), being alternately philosophical and subversve. he's a lovely guy, and i urge you to get online and buy the book. i spent a short while dropping one or two reviews on amazon.com, smashwords, LibraryThing and GoodReads this afternoon. i did it gladly and with pleasure, since i enjoyed the book, and we all like to help each other out, don't we? best thing about the internet, i think, actually - there truly is a kind, helpful, sharing culture out there, and i'm lucky enough to know/communicate with some of the loveliest promoters of that phiosophy, who promote it simply by being themselves. it gives me the warm fuzzies on a reguar basis. anyway, here's what i had to say about it:
"I enjoyed this book very much. The main character is warm and giving, the supporting characters are human and three-dimensional, and the story and the world it is set in are well-thought-out, detailed, engaging, exciting and interesting. It's an excellent and thoughtful debut, and I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of the series."
seriously - go buy it, and read it - it rocks! ;o)
---
there was another storm this morning, at about seven o'clock. right over our heads. the thunder woke me up with a jump - the only time i don't mind being woken by sudden a loud noise. it was absolutely lovely. the rain had cooled the air as it hammered down, the lightning was fresh and clean, and the crashing and rumbling of the thunder was just so deliciously comfortng. it swells my heart with bliss to remember it, and it lulled me back to sleep with a smile on my face.
.
for three reasons.
the first was that it was hot and muggy. about this, i won't complain. it's inconvenient, sure, but this country can be so effing cold and miserable at times, that i refuse to complain when it's hot, as a matter of principle. i love the hot weather, even if it makes me dopey and listless, it's still better than being cold! also, it's the sort of weather that produces one of my favourite things in the whole world. we spent a good half hour last night, dangling our legs out of our bedoom window watching a storm at about seven miles distance. *sigh* it was the first of the year, and utter bliss. it was perfectly still, and the clouds were lighting up in the distance with that unearthly beauty you only get on summer nights.
the second was that i had a new story idea knocking on my brain. this, of course, pleased me. i haven't been writing a lot, lately, as i have other things on my mind, and it's kind of hard to settle to it, but i'm thrilled that i'm still thinking as a writer, even wen i'm not writing. to me, it's another tiny step towards that place i want to be - someone who needs to write. (heh - in writing that, i realised that what i'm doing is attempting to cultivate an addiction. naughty Squeaky! *grin*) i spent a lot of time thinking about this story, and how it might go - disconnected elements i might throw in, and i hope it will be the backbone of this year's NaNoWriMo effort, but we'll have to see. i know little about it, just how it starts and, as i said, one or two random bits that may or may not be in the middle. it sort of stems from the description duel i was involved in at the beginning of the year. i had an idea there might be more to it at the time, but for some reason, it started to put some roots into the story silt last night. but i'm not going to chase it. with me, that doesn't seem to be the way forward. nor planning a story arc or indeed (as i think i've mentioned before) outlining a plot. somehow, it loses the excitement of the writing. it makes me wonder if that's because i started writing with NaNoWriMo - that heady, exciting, headlong rush down the pathways of the story seems to have set itself as the pattern for me. i'm not a thoughtful, introspective type of person. and, if i'm honest, those sort of books don't generally float my boat. what can i say? i'm instinctive, impulsive and exciteable, and very much enjoy that kind of book, too.
which sort of brings me to the third reason that i couldn't sleep. i'd been reading a book that filled my brain with fireworks, both good and bad. i read half of it yesterday, and half of it today. and i urge you, as an internet user, to do the same. the book is called "Little Brother" by a man named Cory Doctorow. it's about how the surveillance culture that we live in can go horribly, horribly wrong. it's about security, and privacy, and (most attractively for me, as i always, *always* wanted to be like this) about a bunch of geeky teenagers who take on the might of The Man. And Kick. His. Ass. it's *really* exciting, and explains some of the arcana of the internet in a way i could just about grasp. and it was fascinating.
truly - geeks are the future.
sadly, i think i'm possibly too old to become any kind of computer/communications geek now, and my mathematical understanding is most assuredly not up to the job. but i have such a huge admiration for geeks of *every* stripe - not just the electronic ones. if there's any sort of justice around, never mind the meek inheriting the earth - i think the geeks should.
speaking of books wot i haz read, i would like to bring your attention to another one whilst (or, rather, *if*) i still have your ear. this one is the first in a YA fantasy series. Powerless Book 1: The Synthesis is written by Jason Letts, also known as @foreverjuly . you may have seen him wandering around on Twitter at odd hours of the day or night (he teaches English in Japan), being alternately philosophical and subversve. he's a lovely guy, and i urge you to get online and buy the book. i spent a short while dropping one or two reviews on amazon.com, smashwords, LibraryThing and GoodReads this afternoon. i did it gladly and with pleasure, since i enjoyed the book, and we all like to help each other out, don't we? best thing about the internet, i think, actually - there truly is a kind, helpful, sharing culture out there, and i'm lucky enough to know/communicate with some of the loveliest promoters of that phiosophy, who promote it simply by being themselves. it gives me the warm fuzzies on a reguar basis. anyway, here's what i had to say about it:
"I enjoyed this book very much. The main character is warm and giving, the supporting characters are human and three-dimensional, and the story and the world it is set in are well-thought-out, detailed, engaging, exciting and interesting. It's an excellent and thoughtful debut, and I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of the series."
seriously - go buy it, and read it - it rocks! ;o)
---
there was another storm this morning, at about seven o'clock. right over our heads. the thunder woke me up with a jump - the only time i don't mind being woken by sudden a loud noise. it was absolutely lovely. the rain had cooled the air as it hammered down, the lightning was fresh and clean, and the crashing and rumbling of the thunder was just so deliciously comfortng. it swells my heart with bliss to remember it, and it lulled me back to sleep with a smile on my face.
.
Monday, 5 April 2010
nothing to see here..move along, please...
today, i find myself with a feeling that i appear to have had for most of my life. desperate to write something, but with no idea of what to write.
oh, the joys of blogging!
to be able to write about nothing much if i so wish, just to assuage the desperate need to write! at this point, i refer you to the note under the blog's title - please feel free to wander off and watch paint dry - i won't hold it against you - how do you think i feel? i have to live in here.
when i was a kid and overtaken by this urge, i would get a picture book of fairy tales i had, and copy out the tales until the need to use paper and pen or pencil to make words was quietened for now.
actually, now my mind is wandering off the path and wondering if i am cursed. this thought tends to occur for many and varied reasons in my day-to-day life, but in this particular instance....a (fledgeling) writer, wants to write, in fact needs to write, but completely devoid of inspiration or the kind of mind that can pull together random elements and put them togethter in unusual and unexpected ways, and use it to tell a story to amaze/amuse/pull forth emotions/whatever. also - a writer with nothing much to say about anything, if i'm honest.
or maybe i'm just an inveterate chatterbox with a stationary fetish?...
hmmm....
well, anyway, like i said - less even than usual to say, but when did that ever stop me?... the first stage of editing the WIP is finished. i've fixed the spelling, the wonky sentences, and argued constantly with the spelling and grammar checker over whether or not a sentence is too wordy, or should/should not end on a preposition.
...by the way - WTF is a preposition anyway?!...
and hubby has read it. this is a first, him not being someone who generally reads for pleasure. and he says he enjoyed it, which, of course, pleases me immensely. :o) he was also kind enough to point out one or two plot holes and inconsistencies. these, i will file away for later. having lived with the blasted thing for the last 5 months, i'm far too close to it and, frankly, heartily sick of the bloody thing. it's a disappointment to me, especially after the first one. however, i already have another couple of ideas settling into the silt for next november, so maybe i'll just leave them there, and see what occurs. or maybe they'll make themselves into short stories between now and then.
because i thought i might have a go at short stories next.
i know, i know - short stories are hard. really hard. and that's good. i want a different challenge, and i understand short stories can be wonderful learning experiences foran author a writer (feels weird and presumptious to refer to myself as an author - i'm just someone who wants to write). personally, after this last one, i hope i can give myself a few lessons in cutting out the waffle. it also means i'm gonna have to tune my brain in to the odd details of the world - the things that pique my interest. a word, a phrase, a situation, an incongruous juxtaposition of ideas. i'm going to have to have my writer head on most, if not all of the time. it will be interesting to see if i can keep that little entity that sits at the back of my brain (on a three-legged stool with a pen poised over a reporter's notebook) alert, and watching. i wonder what she'll come up with? i also wonder if she'll notice things that i don't, and poke me as i'm writing?
gods, i hope so...
.
oh, the joys of blogging!
to be able to write about nothing much if i so wish, just to assuage the desperate need to write! at this point, i refer you to the note under the blog's title - please feel free to wander off and watch paint dry - i won't hold it against you - how do you think i feel? i have to live in here.
when i was a kid and overtaken by this urge, i would get a picture book of fairy tales i had, and copy out the tales until the need to use paper and pen or pencil to make words was quietened for now.
actually, now my mind is wandering off the path and wondering if i am cursed. this thought tends to occur for many and varied reasons in my day-to-day life, but in this particular instance....a (fledgeling) writer, wants to write, in fact needs to write, but completely devoid of inspiration or the kind of mind that can pull together random elements and put them togethter in unusual and unexpected ways, and use it to tell a story to amaze/amuse/pull forth emotions/whatever. also - a writer with nothing much to say about anything, if i'm honest.
or maybe i'm just an inveterate chatterbox with a stationary fetish?...
hmmm....
well, anyway, like i said - less even than usual to say, but when did that ever stop me?... the first stage of editing the WIP is finished. i've fixed the spelling, the wonky sentences, and argued constantly with the spelling and grammar checker over whether or not a sentence is too wordy, or should/should not end on a preposition.
...by the way - WTF is a preposition anyway?!...
and hubby has read it. this is a first, him not being someone who generally reads for pleasure. and he says he enjoyed it, which, of course, pleases me immensely. :o) he was also kind enough to point out one or two plot holes and inconsistencies. these, i will file away for later. having lived with the blasted thing for the last 5 months, i'm far too close to it and, frankly, heartily sick of the bloody thing. it's a disappointment to me, especially after the first one. however, i already have another couple of ideas settling into the silt for next november, so maybe i'll just leave them there, and see what occurs. or maybe they'll make themselves into short stories between now and then.
because i thought i might have a go at short stories next.
i know, i know - short stories are hard. really hard. and that's good. i want a different challenge, and i understand short stories can be wonderful learning experiences for
gods, i hope so...
.
Saturday, 27 February 2010
whatever works for you
there's been quite a few retweets of this link on the all-conquering twitter just recently. it's an entertaining read, not least because a lot of the writers seem to contradict each other, or there are exceptions cited for each rule, or other discrepancies. now, maybe i didn't read it carefully enough, but it seemed to me that there were few agreements on what you definitely should or should not do to produce good writing, whether novel, short story or shopping list. and it seemed to confirm something i've always felt about creative endeavour in general. everyone is different, everyone creates what they do from, ultimately, the inside of their own head. and the inside of every single person's head is sooo different, there's no way anyone can write hard-and-fast rules that everyone should follow. or maybe that's just the way i write? i'll always look at this sort of thing, if only because, somewhere in there, ther may just be a shining nugget of truth in there, amongst the other stuff (which i won't call dross, 'coz it ain't - just doesn't work for me. "You tell me your truth, and i'll tell you mine"...). seriously, you can take advice until the cows come home, but then you have to filter it through what works for you. try it, of course, but don't be disappointed or surprised if it doesn't. stay open. to incomings and outgiongs both. be prepared to let stuff go if it doesn't work for you. always stay open.
anyway - stating the obvious as usual. sorry
the much-abused isobel is still with the garage. no idea what stage she's at, as she'll be done when she's done, and there's NO WAY ON EARTH that we're going to do anything that could be perceived as putting any kind of pressure on to those that are fixing the hash they made the first time. such as phoning for an update.
*deep breath* *lets it out sowly*
patience, Squeaky, all will be well.
been utterly shattered again this week. the internal alarm clock is still WAY out, (gaah!). also, i've been doing this STUPID thing at work which i just haven't got the energy to rant about and, anyway, why bother? it is a feature of my workplace that some overpaid wanker will be drafted in to "improve the business" (n.b. it's not a business, ok? - that's just crappy management speak), and will reccommend the removal of a working system and replacement of said sysstem by something that...well...doesn't.
oops - rant-avoidance fail. oh well, at least it was only a little one, eh? *grin*
mind you, i've had a very restful day today. no mad typing marathons, and managed to stay in bed and doze until a proper, proper saturday morning time (i.e. 10:30-ish - not managed that for weeks). then, we went out and spent quite a lot of money (retail therapy - yeah!)
to begin with, we bought a new shower,as the one we have is probably 25 - 30 years old, and it's given its all. it is knackered, bolloxed, and utterly, utterly kaput. it is an ex-shower. it's never been exactly red-hot in cold weather, but this winter?
ok, i'm a wuss. i admit it. i love my Lushy showers, but i absolutely draw the line at lukewarm showers in winter. when it's cold outside, i want heat! i want steam, dammit! i want the bathroom to be so full of steam that i can't see the door by the time i've finished!
so - guess what hubby's doing tomorrow?
and guess what i'm doing as soon as he's finished?
oh, gods, i'm sooo looking forward to a properly hot shower. i don't think i've had one since the autumn.
oh, YES!!! damn me, those lovely Lushy things are gonna get some hammer, i can tell you! ^_^
ahem. sorry.
anyway - the other drain on the wallet was a new toy for hubby.
he loves his PS2. he loved his PS as well. but, of course, there's a new one out these days. now, he's quite prepared to wait until his PS2 kicks the bucket before he upgrades, but, well...
see, there's this game that my stepchildren brought round when they came to stay for a couple of days last christmas. now, The Tribe are - or can be - EXTREMELY argumentative, and drive us completely insane with alarming frequency. especially when they are all three together, with us, in our teeny weeny living room. everyone gets under everyone else's feet, and on everyone else's nerves. i don't mind admitting it, i was dreading the christmas visit.
but the game.
the game saved us.
i have never, i mean NEVER, had such fun for such a sustained length of time with all three of 'em. in fourteen years. i swear (frequently, actually, but that's not what i meant), there wasn't a cross word spoken, like, all weekend.
it was like i'd wandered into somebody else's family.
this game was that Beatles Rock Band thingy. there were all the instruments and what have you, and all these songs that are like a part of the fabric of the family (since we are both big fans, we've played them all of the kids' lives - they know them almost as well as we do). and everyone played the instruments, and a jolly good time was had by all.
now, everyone wanted to play the drums (i won't say everyone wanted to be Ringo, because, let's face it - hes a bit of an arse, innit?). but everyone (wait for it...) TOOK TURNS!!!
*faints*
seriously - this just doesn't happen amongst The Tribe (despite the fact that they are 16, 18 and 20).
ever since, hubby has, every now and again, been pretending to play the drums, and (i know the look in his eye) thought wistfully of the day his PS2 finally cacks it and he gets to - with a clear conscience - go spend lots of money on a shiny new console and game.
*sigh*
i've been trying to persuade him that he really doesn't need to wait if he waaannnttssssss it, preciousssssss. and boy, does he want it! so, that was what else we spent lots of money on today. and that's just fine by me.
and now he's repeatedly draping my newly darned self-knitted socks (ah'm sooooo proud of mah old skool skillz!) over my head so i can't see the screen. excuse me whilst i go and explain, pointedly, why he should stop....
anyway - stating the obvious as usual. sorry
the much-abused isobel is still with the garage. no idea what stage she's at, as she'll be done when she's done, and there's NO WAY ON EARTH that we're going to do anything that could be perceived as putting any kind of pressure on to those that are fixing the hash they made the first time. such as phoning for an update.
*deep breath* *lets it out sowly*
patience, Squeaky, all will be well.
been utterly shattered again this week. the internal alarm clock is still WAY out, (gaah!). also, i've been doing this STUPID thing at work which i just haven't got the energy to rant about and, anyway, why bother? it is a feature of my workplace that some overpaid wanker will be drafted in to "improve the business" (n.b. it's not a business, ok? - that's just crappy management speak), and will reccommend the removal of a working system and replacement of said sysstem by something that...well...doesn't.
oops - rant-avoidance fail. oh well, at least it was only a little one, eh? *grin*
mind you, i've had a very restful day today. no mad typing marathons, and managed to stay in bed and doze until a proper, proper saturday morning time (i.e. 10:30-ish - not managed that for weeks). then, we went out and spent quite a lot of money (retail therapy - yeah!)
to begin with, we bought a new shower,as the one we have is probably 25 - 30 years old, and it's given its all. it is knackered, bolloxed, and utterly, utterly kaput. it is an ex-shower. it's never been exactly red-hot in cold weather, but this winter?
ok, i'm a wuss. i admit it. i love my Lushy showers, but i absolutely draw the line at lukewarm showers in winter. when it's cold outside, i want heat! i want steam, dammit! i want the bathroom to be so full of steam that i can't see the door by the time i've finished!
so - guess what hubby's doing tomorrow?
and guess what i'm doing as soon as he's finished?
oh, gods, i'm sooo looking forward to a properly hot shower. i don't think i've had one since the autumn.
oh, YES!!! damn me, those lovely Lushy things are gonna get some hammer, i can tell you! ^_^
ahem. sorry.
anyway - the other drain on the wallet was a new toy for hubby.
he loves his PS2. he loved his PS as well. but, of course, there's a new one out these days. now, he's quite prepared to wait until his PS2 kicks the bucket before he upgrades, but, well...
see, there's this game that my stepchildren brought round when they came to stay for a couple of days last christmas. now, The Tribe are - or can be - EXTREMELY argumentative, and drive us completely insane with alarming frequency. especially when they are all three together, with us, in our teeny weeny living room. everyone gets under everyone else's feet, and on everyone else's nerves. i don't mind admitting it, i was dreading the christmas visit.
but the game.
the game saved us.
i have never, i mean NEVER, had such fun for such a sustained length of time with all three of 'em. in fourteen years. i swear (frequently, actually, but that's not what i meant), there wasn't a cross word spoken, like, all weekend.
it was like i'd wandered into somebody else's family.
this game was that Beatles Rock Band thingy. there were all the instruments and what have you, and all these songs that are like a part of the fabric of the family (since we are both big fans, we've played them all of the kids' lives - they know them almost as well as we do). and everyone played the instruments, and a jolly good time was had by all.
now, everyone wanted to play the drums (i won't say everyone wanted to be Ringo, because, let's face it - hes a bit of an arse, innit?). but everyone (wait for it...) TOOK TURNS!!!
*faints*
seriously - this just doesn't happen amongst The Tribe (despite the fact that they are 16, 18 and 20).
ever since, hubby has, every now and again, been pretending to play the drums, and (i know the look in his eye) thought wistfully of the day his PS2 finally cacks it and he gets to - with a clear conscience - go spend lots of money on a shiny new console and game.
*sigh*
i've been trying to persuade him that he really doesn't need to wait if he waaannnttssssss it, preciousssssss. and boy, does he want it! so, that was what else we spent lots of money on today. and that's just fine by me.
and now he's repeatedly draping my newly darned self-knitted socks (ah'm sooooo proud of mah old skool skillz!) over my head so i can't see the screen. excuse me whilst i go and explain, pointedly, why he should stop....
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