1. Guess what you can't wipe up with a Clorox wet nap? Baking Soda. Nope, if spills on the floor and you go to wipe it up, but you just end up pushing it around on the lino. Then when you give up and try to scoop as much of it as you can see, you realize you have just thinned it to an invisible coating of baking soda. And then for days when you step in that area in your socks, you get a squidgy feeling as you slide around in it. Then you realize that you put this in your body: A POWDER THAT CANNOT BE DISSOLVED AND PICKED UP BY THE LIQUID IN A CHLOROX WIPE. (Spider has since informed me that I can clean it with vinegar. Thanks, babe.)

2. Squeezing lemons when your hands are chapped to the point of cracking is not the smartest idea in the universe, lightbulb. However, if you put your fingers in baggies and put a rubber band at the base of each finger, you get to race the clock to see if the pain from cracked skin or the pain from listing feeling in the fingers will make you stop first.

The answer is NEITHER BECAUSE I AM THAT BADASS.

3. Me: Viv, are you done pooping?
Her: No. I got to chillax.
Me: What?
Her: Just chillax, mama.

4. I drove behind a Bronco II that had this on a paper taped to the back windshield: I WILLNOT SPEED JUST TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. I SLOW DOWN FOR TAILGATERS.

5. I have many thoughts on Rhianna's S&M. Some of them are not good. Most of them are nonchalant, which as we all know, is the opposite of chalant. Not to be confused with chalet, or Swiss Chalet, which makes me think of Swiss steak, which makes me want steak. Or those onions that come on top of steak sometimes. When you make a bowl of sautéed onions and mushrooms to put on steak and meats, that's called the kitty. I eat the kitty on fried sweetbreads. Now I want to watch Josie and the Pussycats. Dujour means swiss steak!

6. ( I DID A THING. )

For those of you who don't know, kidlet has been struggling with some illness or another since the beginning of September, and Friday we had our third doctor's appointment when they finally decided to do a chest x-ray. In the meantime she was started on some prednizone for her crackling chest, and we are continuing to try to use the inhaler.

Saturday morning the doctor called to say that the chest x-ray revealed pneumonia, so she has also been started on a z-pak. So.

I haven't really been on my best game, and I'm sorry. Nano has fallen by the way side. I was up every two hours last night to check on her respiration, and TBH, it wasn't because I set an alarm, but that I just keep waking every 2 hours, have been for the last few weeks.

I'm slightly worried because my insurance, it sucks, so we had to go to an urgent care and they just sent me a bill for 155 bucks, etc, and since her doctor visits aren't preventative care, I have to pay like 100 bucks per visit, not to mention whatever they're going to charge me for the breathing treatments. The bill for her inhaler and last antibiotic (which apparently didn't work) in October was about 80 bucks.

That said, I have the money. I just don't like to dip into it.

I was driving home from the doctor's, worrying because they said that if this doesn't clear up, or if it comes back next year we'll have to have the asthma talk, and I was thinking about what THAT would cost, etc etc, and I realised that this? This is nothing. I have the money to pay. It won't be nice, but I can pay it and it won't be on credit. This is not the end of the world. She has pneumonia, not leukemia or something else. We have a roof over our heads. My job is raising my daughter, and I get paid for it. I have been writing, and my first story is coming out next Monday (non-profit, no biggie, but nice). These bad things will pass, and they're not really a big deal. It's not cholera. It's not a hurricane.

I love my girl. And I am thankful every day that we have each other, and everything will be all right.

I'll be back on track later. ( For now, experiments in linzer fail and fragolo update. )

WORK:
--This week three stories will go out.
--Three more will be done, but I might have to set one of them aside.
--I have to start a set of three. I seem to work best in threes.
--Am getting ready to work on the novel again. The werewolf one. Not the porn. I think I might self publish it. For shits and giggles. No one wants this books, I guarantee.

FANNISH:
--Working on episode 6/14. Total word count: 125,242. It's brilliant, I think. But by the time I'm ready to show it, you will all have forgot me. (insert woe is me).
--Have been doing WIAD, but I feel uninspired and hackneyed. Might just stop now.
--Have a rec list I am compiling, but feel blah about it.

HEALTH:
--Cannot seem to lose weight. Working on it.
--Upped the melatonin back to 3 mg after 1.5 woke me at 4 am repeatedly.
--I hate iron pills. I hate Benefiber. I hate Colace.

READING:
--Finished all of LKH's Anita Blake. Skin Trade wasn't as bad as I remember it being. PLOT. Gratuitous cumshot at the end, though. It was so crass I almost have to give LKH props for putting a pearl necklace in a mainstream book.
--Working on the new Star Wars.
--Stalled on "The Stranger".
--Stalled on Sloane Crosley's "I was Told There Would Be Cake"

KIDLET:
--Potty trained. Did I mention that?
--Also:



THIS ENTRY BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE 'IT'S TOO HOT TO BE OUTSIDE BAH' COMMITTEE.

I don't think it's news to anyone that I'm an up and down person. I have mood swings, and until recently I have always gone with the flow. Back in February the anger end of those issues started to hinder relationships, so I tried to locate causes and tracking on a calendar, and lo and behold they were cyclical, like another cycle I have, go fig. Knowing that it was "that time of the month" for my anger issues had helped me to control that. That's fine.

( Here's where everything went pear shaped. )

Things I learnt this week, in shark hell:

1. I lose my temper, and then I do things I regret. This is possibly because I would prefer to cut myself off than be hurt by someone blowing their brains out again. Thanks, person.

Under that consideration, I am going to try two things:

a. When I get mad, I am not allowed to send any correspondence for at least a day.
b. If I do hit the send button, I am not going to immediately say to myself, "oh man, you fucked that up. Best to close up shop because you screwed that." Because apparently, people on the other side of the argument are smarter than you, and they don't think that way. So when you sever ties because you think that's what is best, you end up just hurting people more. I will sit on my hands, and nail them to the table if necessary.
c. I will learn to apologise if it comes to that, and hope for the best. Plan C is the least favorite plan. Plan A should be the best. People do it all the time. It's not rocket science.

2. So in that light, I said some harsh words this week, and I apologised to the people, and there's nothing I can do but wait. One of those people has decided that is not enough, and to that person, I cannot do more than say that I am sorry. To the other person who accepted my apology, I am sincere that I will try not to do it again, and I have made a game plan to approach that.

3. I need to try some Midol.

I am going to complain about some things. I'm just talking off the top of my head, and when I feel better, I'm sure I'll be more rational about most of them. Except the play doh one. That shit blows.

1. I hate snow.

2. I hate being tired.

3. I hate dry fucking play doh. Play doh, why are you dry? I just bought you!

4. I don't want to work on either of the things left that I said I would work on this month, fic-wise (secret project one or bodyswap), and lust is too easy for TW, so I'm not interested in it, except to do all seven deadly sins. So now I'm going through my open fics folder, looking for things to play with. I found something, but meh.

5. This morning like three things pissed me the fuck off. They were not big things. And yesterday with the chairs. So I'mma about to work something through here. The following exchange was had as I shoveled snow this afternoon and screamed at the kid for eating snow. (WTF she's a kid, me.).

Me: Jesus, I'm grumpy.
Self: I know! And it happens more often!
Me: It's as if every month, man, things that I would normally lol about set me off.
Self: I know! Every month...
Me: Oh.

I'm a bit of a moron in this venue, because I have been blessed for the most part by the menstruation gods. I never got any physical signs, but you could set your clock to it on a 32-day cycle. And I knew, I just knew the moment it started, and haven't had surprise!menstruation! issues ever. I might have had cramps, but that was because sometimes I aggravated myself with caffeine, and ibuprofen took care of it.

I thought it was having a kid, but apparently this happens to a lot of women in their thirties, this whole onset PMS thing. Sorry, five dudes on my flist, but my breasts get sore a week ahead of time now, or maybe 1 ½ weeks, and I get cramping on the second or third day. It never occurred to me to check my moods.

I don't like this being a prisoner to my brain and what it does. I know that everyone has tics and eccentricities, that's what makes us all different and bizarre, but this knowledge that my body is fucking with my head on a regular basis makes me cranky in a whole new way.

So, are there any things I can….take for it? I'll confess that when I was a pagan, I did a lot of research into herbalism, and I'm not the biggest fan of it, but I'll try to be all…enlightened and shit. I'm not using black kohosh, sorry. I really don't know what I'll do. I guess the best way to do it would to be to make a chart, a spreadsheet, a something.

And if you are one of the people who might have felt my teeth in the past few days, I am truly sorry.

6. Oh look, a Highlander/Torchwood I haven't finished. Hello, lover.

1. My pierogie class for tomorrow was canceled, due to lack of interest. I feel sad inside. Meh. That's okay though, because my mom is taking the kid tonight. Like taking her and she is spending the night!

2. Also I had this dream last night that my butterscotch pudding (which I made and put in the fridge last night) looked like translucent butterscotch pudding, and when I tasted it, it was just orange jello. I kept stirring it and digging to the bottom because I thought maybe the "flavah" had sunk down to the bottom, but alas.

Somehow that led to me, in the dream, going to an academic convention with a bunch of very smart people who had Opinions on Harry Potter, daleks and…something, but when we all sat down to the opening get-together in an auditorium, the speaker at the lectern said, "Hello and welcome" and we all clapped and no one stayed for the rest of it. I guess intellectuals don't have to stay at the opening ceremonies because it's not nerdy enough.

Keep in mind that I NEVER go to the opening thing to begin with, usually because I'm wasted somewhere.

BUT BUT BUT, I don't remember much, aside from some creepy Asian dude who didn't think I deserved to be there, because I wasn't a grad student at MIT (LOOK MAN IT'S A CONFERENCE ABOUT HARRY POTTER AND DALEKS. THE AUDIENCE CHAMBER LOOKS LIKE THE SET OF JEOPARDY, ASSWIPE.). I woke up with this overwhelming idea that I should write a Hermione/Snape in which Sirius comes back from beyond the Veil with a pile of bloody coins, and then there's hurt/comfort and then eventually polyamory.

I'd like to point out that I have never. Ever. Ever written Sirius. EVER. In all my fics, he's dead, even the AUs. But even as I sit here, I think of a load of pennies turned red with blood and I think, "This is a great idea." Then I make funny jokes about the CoinStar machine.

3. I DID A STRANGE, STRANGE THING LAST NIGHT, and I want to share it with you, and maybe someday I will be allowed to.

4. My Chinese New Year shopping list is still unstarted. I have to get off my arse.

5. My kid just ate a cheerio off the floor. I hope that was from this morning. Okay so I find that I treat most things in this world like the emperor in Amadeus at 3:34 of this scene:



6. I started my last haiti fic in my head last night and it is awesome. Also, the VS episode is done and secret project one is close to being done, which just leaves secret project 2 and the bodyswap, on which I made a plotting breakthrough. If all goes well, I should be done with all this by the end of the month.

First of all, I think I need to share this with you, because the second letter is worth the read. Also, I just don't read/hear "cooter" enough. Cooter. LOL. Cooooter. And on equally amusing lines is this thread from reddit, in which anons prove that really sometimes, no one knowing who you are can make the best conversations between people, especially when you're talking about having an orgasm from climbing rope.

Secondly, I lost a very good friendship yesterday to mutual asshattery, but every email has been written and sent and now we're at the Mexican standoff part where no one does anything. I think it's a window like the boyfriend window in Coupling. Movement in this time period could mean possible repair, but if enough time elapses, then it's broken irrevocably. I suspect that the window will simply fly by, silent as a drape runner coated with oiled cotton balls, mostly because we are also too stubborn to email each other. Something about pride and crapola. I dunno. I find myself listless and casting about for things in their absence, and that is a strange feeling.

But you know when you reach that point where you send an email or finish a sentence in a conversation, and you literally have no idea what to say next and you realise that that is because it's not your turn to talk? Yeah. That's another window. The pause window. And if you talk during that time then you risk the problem of overplaying your hand, or making the souffle fall or using too many metaphors in one sentence.

Thirddesque, I'm glad that people liked the fic yesterday. It had been eating at my skull, and is one of several almost finished fics that I have floating in the ether. They all pretty much need three paragraphs and money shot, but I've been putting them off for deadline fic, which is dumb, because this isn't professional writing, and I'm not beholden, and the deadline fic is like…well, I was gonna make a joke about blockage that would have ended with a prescribed enema, and no one wants that.

Funny, because the next fic to be done will probably be the enema fic. Just in case you were worried that I'd got all warm and fuzzy. Nope, this…wow I just erased the worst fecal related Dune joke ever. HONEST TO GOD, I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS…OMG I HAVE TO ERASE THAT TOO. I AM SO SORRY, PEOPLE.

In the manner of fourth things, while we're on the subject of shit, I deleted my twitter, so you can stop emailing me to tell me that my twitter is gone. It wasn't a good idea for me, and I miss it, but I sense that it's the same thing as wanting to live off pork rinds and skittles. Or have a fish-pony. Think about that—would that really be a good idea? A fish-pony? As Topol would say, "A bird may love a fish, but where will they build a home? No, THERE IS NO OTHER HAND. TRADITION! LASER WOLF!" Ahem.

I know what you're going to say, "Amand-r, isn't the seahorse a fish-pony?" I have an answer for that, reader: fuck and you. You ruined a perfectly good false metaphor by looking for actual meaning instead of chuckling at the combination of the words fish and pony. I'm thinking of some guy standing out in the old west sniffing the air and saying, "The mail is coming." "How do you know?" young Clem, our narrator, would ask. "Smells like tuna," the some old guy would say.

Roll credits. That would have saved this show (and perhaps have got them corporate sponsorship).

Fish-ponies would also have saved this show. Well, no, nothing was gonna save this show.

Is fifthly even a word? If it were, I would say it right now for this: ( OH FLIST, I NEED HELP. )

Lastly, I'm a little perplexed as to why more people haven't read lionessvalenti's Caught in the Ashes. A short anti-fix-it that is a fix-it, if you have very thin standards of things being fixed on more than one level. This is a Ianto who is alive and loves Jack, and a Jack who loves Ianto, but sometimes, well, sometimes. I don't want to get into a debate about sadness in fic being unbearable, Legolas, because my theory is that if Ianto's death made you sad, you've already had the worst of it, and this is gorgeous and sweet and sad in some ways, and ingenious in its narration, and so very spot on. The moments between Jack and Ianto are both wrenching and still the sort of affection that I will openly admit now that I always wanted to see from Jack.

And with some really gorgeous lines like Sometimes, you can rouse him with a drink and a strip show, or simply a smile at the right time, and he kisses you like he means it (maybe he does) and the two of you fall back in line. and Jack looks up and he's helpless. He's desperate and you've never seen him like this before. Something in your mind shifts and Jack is a new person., lionessvalenti gives us a maybe-maybe not narrator who isn't sure of Jack even at the same time that you see Jack through their eyes as the man you know. That's charming. Also? A really smooth second person that I rather adore. But then, I'm biased in that department.

So drop your jocks and grab your socks and hie on over to read. To grandmother's house we go. Something about a sleigh and a horse. Oh shut up, you love it, Scott.

1. If you have not been checking out curriejean's Torchwood Advent Calendar, you should. Jean has gone through the eps of seasons one and two and found all the background music. Not the scores, but the music: Snow Patrol, Alabama 3, The Pipettes, etc. What's the song playing in the bar in that one scene? Jean's got it. It's about 4 songs a day, and I usually pick the ones I want (I already have some of it, and possibly all the Glenn Miller, *glances away*). You can start with today, because she has links to all the past days. Dude, it's sweet. I call it Jeanie's Torchwood Awesome on my iPod.

2. The hlh_shortcuts fest ends today. Well, the stories are done being posted. There will be a few days of guessing and catching up, and then reveals on the 23rd! Yay!

3. Jaws excerpt:

"So if it wasn't a boat," Gwen said, tossing her gloves in the bin with her empty paper cup. Ianto swallowed his water to cover the fact that he was still queasy from the odour and blinked at the wordless exchange between Jack and Gwen, an exchange that he read as Gwen demanding answers and Jack being unwilling to provide them (yet. If he even had them.).

"We have to close the beaches," Jack said, then turned and barreled out of the room, leaving them standing in the deserted morgue.

Ianto blinked at Gwen. "He does know this is Wales, right?"

4. I have snow pictures of kidlet, but to post them I have to get my head out of my arse. I also have to finish my crimmas shopping. At Target. Awesome.

5. I have to vacuum.