I HAS A FLAT!!!!1!one!!
THERE IS NOT ENOUGH CAPSLOCK IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW, PEOPLE! \o/ regular access to a computer -- my computer! Quite possibly proper internet access again! Not to mention all my stuff! I could cry right now, honestly.
The one downside -- well, okay, there's a couple, like that everything including cooker and heating is electric, but whatever. The one thing that currently makes me flail is that I'd be moding in during the second half of November, so right during NaNo crunch time. Because I wasn't already flailing hard enough about NaNo, obviously.
But: FLAT! \o/
... Excuse me while I go and make lists of things I need to do and get and fill out before then, argh.
So after like a week of trying dozens of shops from various PoundSavers to expensive little boutique stationery shops with no result other than some strange looks when I asked for refill pads without a margin 1, I finally found what I was looking for ... at Tesco's. Where I go get food pretty much every day, and where it apparently never occurred to me until last night to look for a refill pad.
I think God might be fucking with me again. *eyes the sky warily*
1 Because apparently I'm the only person in the world neurotic enough to resent it when the paper tries to tell me how wide or narrow a margin should be, or indeed that I should have one at all. Okay, so I am weird about this, a bit, but dammit, I'm a writer, we're allowed to be weird and neurotic! Hell, I use index cards, even, which definitely puts me in the "weird and neurotic, possible loony" bin.
Today in pre-NaNo panicking: my writing brain is apparently in a handwriting mood, which is fine as far as I'm concerned, but I don't have enough writing paper left for 50,000 words, and I cannot for the life of me find writing paper without a bloody margin in this country. Hell, it was difficult enough to find it in Belgium, anymore. Augh!
And yes, dammit, I am that picky about my writing implements and accessories. I've been using the same fountain pen for over eight years even though the wood on the handle is starting to crack, because I can't find one that fits my hand as well, and ideally would have a wood handle as well, or at least not a metal one.
*goes to flail at edinburgers and Google about conundrum*
... And while I'm flailing, I should probably go and make sure I'm registered for this year, shouldn't I? (If I'm not back in two days, send help. The NaNo boards have a tendency to be second only to TV Tropes when it comes to sucking one in for days and countless open tabs. Sob.)
I'm still wavering a little about what to write, as well. Probably self-indulgent fantasy fluff, because that was how I won the one time I actually finished NaNo, but there's a couple of other ideas floating around my brain that I'm poking at to see if they want to go anywhere. Watch this space for further updates, I guess?
So after, um, several years of vague hip trouble, I finally went to the doctor about it, and now I have a referral for an X-Ray (just in case) and physiotherapy. Official description of the problem, as written by the doctor on the form: "Bilateral clicking hip trouble". (What, I don't even warrant some gratuitous Latin? Pft! Doctors these days, honestly.) I also got a mole check, which was all clear, yaye!
... And then I (slightly) sprained what I presume to me my gluteus maximus. That's right, people, I sprained my arse. Because I'm just that special. *facepalm*
Dear internet: please stop trying to eat my beta e-mails to ruby_fruit, dammit. *shakes tiny impotent fist*
So after more than five years, my AlphaSmart's batteries finally threw in the towel. Five years, and the equivalent of two or three of the bigger HP books, on a single set of three AA batteries. I'd say that's pretty damn good value for money, there. :D *pats Gimli*
I'm feeling a little at sea without anything to write, right now. I suppose I could try and finish the Firefly wingfic, or start plotting my NaNovel, or something, but ... Meh? The wingfic feels weird after being stalled for so long, especially since I'm no longer reading a lot in the fandom, and it feels too early to start plotting for NaNo.
Maybe I'll just go get myself a book of Sudoku or sommat.
Today in Melle's Hair Experiments: French braid! Because I was too busy last night to do the rag curls. The braid part is doing okay, bu the tucked-in bit is looking/feeling a bit suspicious. Hrm.
Today in the Zombie Apocalypse: First draft is FINISHED! \o/ Word count comes in at just over 20k for this draft. (... That's almost half a NaNovel, dear god.) Next up: editing, and then it goes off to beta tonight.
[ETA] Fic: off to beta. \o/ *goes off for well-deserved nap until fic coems back in need of rewrites* [/ETA]
So with my hair now officially well past my shoulders, I decided it was time for a little experiment with rag curls. I think I need to put them in earlier in the evening so my hair's completey dry by morning, and I should probably put in more rags with smaller chunks of hair, especially near my neck, but overll, I'm declaring this experiment a qualified success.
(Yes, Anna, there will be pictures as soon as I can, once I've tweaked it to my satisfaction. :D )
It still feels really weird, though, but that's probably just because my hair's not been this long since was, like, fifteen, and this is the first time I've had my hair actually loose -- I've been putting it in a pony tail since it was long enough, and even before that I tied it up to avoid any resemblance to a mullet. I'm sure I'll get used to the feeling of having OMGhair, though. (It feels so girly, OMG!)
(Other things about having OMGhair I'll have to get used to: having to adjust it when turning over in bed to avoid getting a face ful of hair, and finding long hairs everywhere, my god but I forgot how much I shed. D: And of course, as mentioned above, I'd forgotten exactly how long my hair can take to freaking dry, so now I'm trying to readjust to keeping it dry during my morning shower so I don't end up with a head cold. Sigh.)
The zombie apocalypse story is pretty much entirely plotted, and the only thing left to do is the actual writing, which, now that I know where I'm going, will be easy enough. As long as the characters don't go sneaking about behind my back again, that is.
(Yeah, I'm having some minor title issues due to a) my ignorance of video games post-dating the NES (There's The Sims, and WoW, and, er, that's all I can think of), and b) my continuing struggle with my brain, which keeps suggesting overly British titles and references. Sigh.)
Total word count of part two: 6,500 (approx.)
Current total word count: 12,500 (approx.)
Times yelled at certain character for dropping increasingly less subtle hints about things and not telling me about it: about half a dozen
Times demanded certain characters stop with the meta: same
Times yelled at assorted characters for randomly (and somewhat appropriately) hooking up behind my damned back: one -- so far
Excuse me, I need to go venture into TV Tropes to try and find appropriate (or rather, suitably inappropriate) titles for the third part. If I don't come back, have a drink to my memory or something.
Current wordcount on the zombie story: 9,331.
Plus about two pages written but not yet typed up, and I think if I put in a good day's work, I might be able to finish part two by tonight. *flops*
(Oh, hey, I wonder if I'll jinx myself if I dare optimistically muse about maybe getting this thing done and off to be beta'ed by the end of the week? TIME WILL TELL!)
I think the telly is trying to make up for almost destroying my soul or something, or maybe IKEA is just trying to remind me of how much I love them, because there was a commercial on yesterday that I, frustratingly, cannot find on YouTube in its entirety.
It starts with a man coming home, trying to turn on the TV and finding a new, big flatscreen in the other corner from where he's expecting the TV. There are, I think ,a few other things he finds have changed, and then he sees his wife in the (new! improved!) kitchen. He goes over to her as she's holding out a spoonful of whatever it is she's cooking, only to be left looking silly as it turns out he's not the intended recipient, and instead she feeds it to another woman. It's Change Time.
I love IKEA. :D
And in completely different news: I'm going to have a lot of fic to catch up on when I'm done with the Zombie!fic, aren't I? (I avoid reading fic in a fandom I'm writing in, for fear of ... I dunno, call it "cross-contamination". I've been known to avoid entire genres, or even avoid fiction altogether, when I'm writing non-fanfic, as well.) Which is to say, I apologise for not commenting and encouraging and whatnot, and I will be catching up ... probably in October. :D
(I'm so badly behind in this fandom, now -- Blip.tv vids efuse to work on the library computers, and I have very limited funds to gt internet cafe time, so I've not seen the last two AT4Ws (Blackest Night! Yaye Flash!), or the new Chick review, but I did manage to watch the Alone In The Dark on, and OMG they are TAUNTING me now, aren't they? Bastages.)
Also, I'm sure this is just, I dunno, confirmation bias or something, but it seems like ever since I started writing this story, zombies and zombie-related stories keep popping up at me from everywhere: the telly, completely unrelated websites and blogs, you name it. *eyes the universe with suspicion*
[ETA] Have now caught up on reviews. Let's recap in bullet point form, shall we?
- BR: HP&HBP: "I would say it's a love triangle, but it's more of a love octagon." -- Love squiggle, honey, it's a loe squiggle. (This reference brought to you by an RPG that's been over for more than five years.)
- At4W: Zero Patrol: "Feminist senses" -- LOFF!
- NC: Alone in the Dark: TOO MUCH AWESOME TO QUOTE! Spoony! (You make a habit of breaking into people's homes, then?) Linkara! "Honey"! "I like to wear women's clothing"! Singing! SO! MUCH! AWESOME! \o/ (And Spoony's commentary makes it even better!)
- NChick: Armageddon: ... Way to give me a nosebleed from lesyay, there, dammit. *fetches tissue, soldiers on*
- At4W: Blackest Night: A "complicated and toroughly inappropriate" escape manoeuvre -- Yeah, I DO NOT EVEN! Also, more singing!
... Right, Melle go fud now, and then try and plot and/or write.[/ETA]