Writing Successes: Edited more Scrolls. This was probably more like 2 hrs, but it's still getting done, and I'm still writing. I also managed to make the TC chat, although the guest didn't.
Music Playing: KINK.
I had planned on putting a rant about Valentine's Day in here. It's a pretty useless holiday in my book. Then I went surfing in my new webring (Pacific Northwest Blogs) and found a great link to a great page that really did a great job explaining the whole holiday from several myths. Please check it out. Sholay Valentines Special.
I'd still like to say that forcing guys (and I really feel it's aimed at MEN) to behave romantically on this day is unfair. I think a lot of women really grow up expecting thier men to come home bearing gifts. Forget that there's no money, forget that he worked all day. When he comes home, he should have a gift of some kind, a lot of loving words, and a better appreciation for you.
Ha.
Long as he comes home, it's love in my book. ;)
A final note to the junk mail saga from the past two days: Lance's wife wrote saying she had no idea what I was talking about. She forwarded the email, true, but has no idea how Jeff got anything. Someone (I guess she's saying) got a check with her email on it....and about this point I got lost in what she wrote. Right up to the end where she said she apologized for any inconvience this may have caused to my life. (Who knew she could be sarcastic?)
I wrote back and told her it wasn't worth this much trouble, forget it. How's her family?
Cause that one little email with one little URL isn't worth it. I still feel pointing out that she went AROUND me to complain about something I did WAS worth it. But she either didn't understand, couldn't figure it out, or won't own up to having done that. Any way you go, it stopped being worth it about 2 days ago, when it began.
Well, happy Friday. I hope you find romance in every day.
Writing Successes: Another installment of the Scrolls went up yesterday, and I titled the next section. I thought it might bring a sense of "anticipation" if I wrote what the next name was going to be. Also made my choices for TC's next issue. Good on me. Next: Mari's comments.
Music Playing: KISN, the oldies station. I mean about 1950-1970. "Twist" and Elvis and The Mama's & Papa's. That kind of thing.
Okay, so I did send off an email to Lance & his wife. I used the "reply" to return it to the email that sent it. About 10 minutes later, he calls on the phone to say he's sending an email about it. Basically, he knows it's a hoax (he does work for Microsoft) but maybe his wife sent it. Can I send her that same email?
So I send off my email. I explain how I sent it to Ric first, apparently by mistake. Which leads me to think that if I made that kind of error, maybe she did. I dunno. But I'm starting to feel like a louse.
She emails me back saying she didn't send any such thing. Perhaps someone hacked into their hotmail account and sent this. Would I please send the original? Well, I've deleted that by now, but I send what I do have anyhow. Haven't heard anything this morning.
Not that "hacking" an email, especially a hotmail, account would be hard, but I don't think that's what happened here. Seems terribly unlikely. Seems like more passive-agressive bs. I don't care anymore. I mean, it isn't worth THIS much trouble. It wasn't about the email anyhow. And if they (whichever of them did send it) can't own it, that's their problem. I confronted mine.
In other news...quite literally...have you noticed that everyone changes the subject if you want to talk about Bush & Iraq? Just wondered if that was only me. "I don't want to talk about that," is a big theme about this issue. I just find it mildly amusing.
I think I'll save this rant about Valentine's Day for tomorrow. ;) I have one, never fear.
Still reading LOTR, Fellowship. Still bored. How do you people read this many times a year? I made it to half-way, but it's a struggle and a half. I'd much rather pick up this copy of "Merrick" that Kou handed me weeks ago. I'd be done with it by now. I just don't get it.
Well, back to the archives. This hour a day thing is working out great. I'm not only getting it done, I'm interested in getting it done. I feel like I'm just sitting here wasting time if it's not going in the background. Heh. Maybe it'll jump start me to write something of my own some year. LOL
Writing Successes: Edited enough of the Amazon Archives to add yet another installment to the Scrolls. Got far enough to start on another, even. Pretty happy about that.
Music Playing: KINK, although I'm not sure why. Just in the mood for jazz, I suppose. They do this awesome "Lights Out" stuff from 9pm to Midnight that's soft, new-agey, wordless, jazzy tunes set to little pauses of water, rain, surf, that kind of thing. No commercials allowed. While that isn't playing right now, it's a good reason to still be on the station.
One of the pet peeves of the year so far is junk email. I'm sick of it. I get 50 or so JUNK emails now. In my defense, I've had this email address for about SIX years. Seems kind of stupid to go changing it now. So I open the junk, follow the remove instructions and get more crap from the same people. It's horrible.
So when a friend sends me crap, it annoys me even more. Now, I'm a tolerant kind of gal. I generally say nothing about it. And it's always some hoax, some sappy story about this child or that old woman whose life was touched by God somehow, or some joke I've seen once a year since I've had email. I usually delete it and move on.
I didn't yesterday. Yesterday I took the time to look up the hoax on the internet. There are a hundred sites that list these hoaxes so you can check on them before you send them to your friends and catch them up in the nightmare of email round-a-bouts. I look it up. Sure enough, Intel and Microsoft are NOT tracking this email to my closest friends and sending me a check for a hundred million gazillion dollars. Go figure.
I reply to the email and send the URL. I don't say anything, just the URL and my name. Then I realize I was a story too high, so I resend with the right URL and a message of "I had the wrong URL, sorry. Same point, though." I hear nothing more about it.
Small break for background: This email came from a guy who WORKS for Microsoft 8 months out of the year. The same one I've mentioned countless times before, Babe/Ric/Lancelot, whatever. I think his wife sent it to him, and he then sent it to me. I'm not sure. Regardless...
Donin last night says that Lance sent him an email saying that it wasn't a hoax. It's all real. Real, I tell you!
Should I mention that I didn't GET this email? That I still haven't heard a thing about it?
Let's also point out that I don't get emails from either Lance or his wife that AREN'T these kinds of things? No messages about how they're doing, how the kids are doing, how are things my end....nada. If I send something, it goes into a cyber-black-hole or gets a sentence in answer and I have nothing to reply to. They never call, either.
I'm not trying to sound like I'm complaining. I'm really not. Just more information for the masses there. I strive to not put a price on friendship. So saying, "I send them stuff, they never send back!" might sound like I'm saying that there IS a price. I don't mean that. I'm just saying that I send them stuff that isn't nothing, that isn't from someone else's horde of stuff from someone else that someone else sent. That I do care enough to ask after them.
And they can't even email me when they've a problem with something I sent. They have to send it to Donin. And THIS is what has me upset. This kind of back-handed, crappy treatment. I may not have a price for my friendship, but I do require at least a minimum level of common courtesy and respect. I weathered the whole "Nastiest Email Ever" incident with grace, tolerance, and what I hope was love and kindness. I took the highest road I possibly could, not to toot my own there, but I totally did.
I'm done with it. I've had enough of this sneaking around telling Donin everything, and treating me like I'm the elephant in the middle of the room. It's ridiculous, and I don't have to stand for it. In fact, my brain just began composing an email, so I'm not taking my usual "passive aggresive" stance, but standing up for what I know to be right. Guess I'll have to go do that.
Sorry for the total rant, but it's so dumb. And while I was typing this in, I got no less than 5 new pieces of email crapola. *sigh* Yeah, cause what I *so* need in my life is a bigger penis. I know, it's so I can jerk it off while looking at this amazing new free porn site!
Addendum: Sent the email and discovered it was Lance's wife who sent it. It was hard to tell, given the email address, but it is usually her that sends that kind of thing along. So, I resent the email. Now watch, she did the same thing I did and sent it to Donin by mistake. In which case I look like a total bitch. Oh well, sometimes you just have to do it anyhow. - D
Writing Successes: Yesterday's (Is it really only Monday?) Sunday Brunch chat, of course. This week: From Seriana's point of view. LOL Amazons on the brain this week.
Music Playing: 107.5 The Mix. This one is a lot of fun for me. Playing the songs of the 80's, 90's and today. Only time I freak is when they play "Let's Go All The Way". Other than that, it's a luff fest.
Fully intended to post Saturday, dunno where my brain went. I've been way tired, but unable to sleep. It's little things like this that make me feel like I'm manic depressive. One of Kou's "signs" she's in a phase, being tired but not being able to sleep. Happens to me all the time. Stupid, too, because I can sleep fine as long as I'm not in the actual bed. Chair, couch, bus...all fine. Put me on a matress and forget it. Bizarre.
My current writing to-do list includes all of the following, for those keeping track: TC submission patrol. Sifting, sorting, reading and choosing. All fun, all the time. Okay, good fun most of the time. Snark fun some of the time. Depends. TC article writing. Setting. Have done nothing. Feeling like I'm wasting time, that I should have done something by now. Been a week since I decided what to write about. Read and comment on Mari's story. Told her I'd get to it at the end of January. If this looks like the end of January to anyone, please let me know. And I did mean 2003, not 2004. Amazon archives. Huge sigh. Must get back to doing this. I think I'm going to try to do an hour a day on these, at least. There's a TON to do and I'm going nowhere fast.
Remind me to stay away from Amazon site changes. Six hours of solid work yesterday. My shoulder hurts, my arm hurts, and my fingers loathe touching the mouse, atm. But I think everyone likes it. Least, the four or five I spoke to thought it was pretty cool. Valkyra got AIM, I notice. Should help her be more "visible" to the Amazons. Get them to notice that she's the Regent, not me. I'm just the lackey. LOL
Okay, following is from yesterday's chat. Some have already read it, too bad. Posting it for those who haven't. It's kind of upside down time-wise. Taken from what I hope will be an interesting journey for the Amazons at the end of the week. See, don't tell them, but I'm going to kidnap them all and whisk them away to a desert. LOL. Anyhow, this is what I would do if I was Seriana, the Captain of the Guard.
Use the following words: horse, adrift, leaf, silver, thud: 15 min
The stolen horse thundered across the desert sands toward the distant hills. She could only just make them out at this distance, a hazy blue lump wavering on the horizon. Beyond the hills was the Thermadon, and home.
The mustang’s silver flanks heaved as they raced across the shifting earth. She was pushing the beast too far, but there was little else to do. The sun was high overhead and delays here would cost them both their lives.
It would also cost them the lives of her sisters. She would not fail them.
Soft grains began to give way to pebbles and small rocks, a sign she was nearing the hills that still seemed so very far away. A gnarled tree, ancient and burned black from the heat of the sun and the dry earth, sat adrift in the golden sea of sand; a silent sentry guarding the path back to the green shelter of leaves.
Seriana was uncomfortable in the open and urged the horse to greater speed. She longed for the comfortable shelter of the forest, the anonymity of a crowded market square, the camaraderie of a village full of Amazons. The desert was unnerving her with its emptiness.
“Seriana?” her aunt’s voice echoed into her mind.
“About time!” she returned mentally.
“Where are you and the others?”
A character awakens in a place without knowing how he/she got there. 15 min
Seriana’s eyes flashed open and she bolted upright. Shafts of purple, pink, red and blue sunlight filtered down through many colorful veils hanging from tall wooden posts around her. A comfortable mattress cushioned her and several linen blankets covered her scantily clad form.
She shoved the gauzy silk drapes aside and struggled out from the confines of the bed. Pillows were strewn from one end of the room to another, but arranged in seating positions across heavy hand-woven rugs.
She spun, recognizing the room as a tent, the sides moving in and out with what she assumed was a gentle breeze. There was a flap at one end and she marched over and tossed it aside.
The shaded interior of the room vanished as bright yellow sunlight blinded her. Heat enveloped her and she felt sweat break out across her forehead and under her arms. Sand sifted around her toes, scorching the bottom of her naked feet.
“Get back in there,” a man’s voice ordered. She stumbled as he shoved her roughly back into the shadows of the tent.
Where in the name of Artemis am I? She asked herself.
Picking herself up off the carpet, she surveyed her attire. A short-sleeved dark-green top of linen, embroidered with threads of gold and dangling small golden disks covered her breasts, but not her flat stomach. Matching that was a strange pair of pants; a pair of form-fitting shorts that turned to gauzy silk bound by linen at her ankles. There was a circlet of gold in her auburn hair, trailing more green silk behind her. Her feet were bare and the bottoms were a discolored russet.
She snarled and ripped the circlet from her head. It was obvious she was a prisoner, the guard was proof enough of that. The question was WHO had taken her, WHERE was she now, and HOW she was going to escape.
Don't forget to you can now comment. Kalispera and herete!
