February 1st, 2008


I’m gonna trade this life for fortune and fame

Typing up a little blog entry, just, y’know, to get my fingers used to the idea of typing. It helps! Honest! Or maybe it gives me a false sense of productivity, ’cause words are appearing on the screen and therefore I must be working…

The other night I was watching a tv show in which they were discussing minimalist homes, and the commentator said that often people with introvert tendencies like minimalist designs a lot because there’s not a lot of distracting external output. Extroverts, she said, tend to prefer busy rooms with lots of colors and shapes and interesting things. I thought of my office and laughed and laughed and laughed. :)

I went to the gym four times this week. Go me. My poor legs aren’t as sore as they were yesterday, and I took it a little easier in today’s dance workout, ’cause…well, partly because I was sore and partly because it’s a lot harder to dance on my own than in a class. I have to really be *feeling* it to make myself work as hard as I can/should, and today (possibly due to the soreness) I wasn’t feeling it so much. Still, forty minutes or so of barre and floor work can’t be bad for a person.

Oh! The cool news I said I’d mention: I’ve been invited to participate in a Subterranean Press anthology! (Along with, ye gods, Kate Elliott, Kelley Armstrong and Robin Hobb. Do you think I’ll ever stop feeling like one of these things is not like the others?) In dicussing it with the Best Agent Evar, I said I’d have to decide if I wanted to write “Urbane Shaman”, an idea which sprang from somebody’s typo of URBAN SHAMAN (Jo would be such a very bad urbane shaman), or if I wanted to write a Janx and Daisani story. Jenn said, “If it counts for anything, I vote for Janx and Daisani.” :) So I’m quite looking forward to doing that.

In my copious free time.

Ok, this is almost a page’s worth of typing, so I guess my fingers must be warmed up. (Except they’re *freezing*. I’m going to go snag the cat who’s licking my sofa (weird animal) and stuff him under my warm fuzzy shirt and suck up his body heat and pin myself down with his body weight so I have to sit here and write at least a thousand words.)

Oh, that reminds me about an ambition…well, nevermind, I can write about that later. *scoots to steal a cat and begin work*

current music: Nickelback: Rock Star

(x-posted from the essential kit)


Here we are at a quarter after nine, and I’m pushing the boundaries of wakefulness. This getting up and exercising thing knackers a person!

Today, according to the Celtic calendar, is the first day of spring. Imbolc, or St. Brigid’s day, which explains why people’ve been selling St. Brigid’s crosses on the street all week. I did not know, previous to discussing this with Mom, that I knew off the top of my head that the name for the first day of spring was “Imbolc”, but when Mom said it was, I had this little thought process that went “First day of sp–oh, February 1. Imbolc. Cross? WT–oh, that’s what the people on the streets are selling crosses for.”

(Imbolc, Beltane, Lughsana and Samhain. I felt very very silly be surprised that the Irish word for “May” was “Beltane”. :) Mom said I knew too much mythology, then allowed as how it /did/ seem to be rather useful to me professionally. :))

I spent a *very* long time today stomping around Cork trying to find a 3 litre swing-top garbage bin to put compost in. I looked in every damned store in town and couldn’t find one. My will to live was drained. Then I came home and Mom told me that actually I wanted a push-pedal one with a removable inner bin because the swing-top ones were very messy. So in fact I spent all that time stomping around Cork looking for THE WRONG THING, which is not in the least bit better!

I am cautiously approaching the idea of making next week a Writing Blitz week.

A photo from friends of my youngest fan:


And now, to bed.

ytd wordcount: 43,700
miles to Minas Tirith: 87.4

(x-posted from the essential kit)