hey, look, a vapor trail!

WTf

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 19:38:44 GMT

Filter closed a few months ago, and I can deal with that, but now Half and Half is closed. And yet, Gallery Cafe stays open.

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 20:40:19 GMT

There. Much better.

Hello again

Mon, 15 Jan 2007 04:35:25 GMT

I disappeared for a while!

I guess I should say that I disappeared into my job, my fancy-pancy cubicle job where I stare at a computer all day and then come home and find that the last thing I want to look at is a computer. So if you're holding your breath for me to come on instant messenger . . .you must be very blue by now.

I bought a new computer, an apple Macbook, which I think I will call "Apple" after Gwenneth Paltrow's daughter. Guess what? It's mostly used to purchase music from iTunes, because "Poddy" makes me feel like a real music lover, and "Apple" seems to have some internet issues.

What else? Christmas was nice. New Years was great! I can't really comment on the first part but the second part was hilarious!

Last weekend I went to a party to a boy I used to refer to in the old journal as Blue-haired boy. His hair is not blue any more because he's in the Army and stationed in Afghanistan. There was a girl there that I used to really like in highschool. No not that way, I just really wanted to be her friend because I thought she was so (ahem) neat. She hasn't changed a bit, it doesn't look, and I feel like a completely different person. but I don't think I left her with that impression. We exchanged phone numbers but still haven't really connected to TALK, which was what she said she wanted to do. I wouldn't mind talking, and if she wants to TALK, fine. but if neither of us wants to be found it isn't really going to happen.

Sometimes I feel like I'm getting out more than enough, more than I should even, although this weekend all I did was play around with my Poddy.

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 17:41:50 GMT

I'm still trying to figure out how to use this new mac computer. Everything is in the wrong corner and I'm not sure how to copy/paste or bring up spellcheck. And I accidentally deleted part of a story I was writing and I don't know where the undo button is.

Good thing it wasn't very good writing anyway.

big whoop!

Mon, 06 Nov 2006 05:48:17 GMT

50,096!!!!!

Hooray! I made it!

Now I must buy myself a present.

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 18:17:32 GMT

48,232!

w00t!

Sat, 04 Nov 2006 06:08:51 GMT

46,085

92%

These last little bits are sort of hard. It's all the stuff I was procrastinating on writing. the "Noon" scene alone made me feel like I was getting shot in the head.

I have 1,232 words of "Stellar Child" my Nanowrimo submission.

I also need to make myspace pages for Allison's infinite boob and Allison's non-infinate boob.

I'm very happy it's friday.

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 04:10:09 GMT

Guess what!

I'm a 45,027 words, which means I have five thousand words left to write.

I think I ought to start taking dares.

And then I'll start on round #2, the bonus twenty thousand words in which something called a "plot" happens.

Sun, 29 Oct 2006 02:13:41 GMT

43,978.

I'm going to have to start thinking about expanding the goal to 70K.

But first I'll work on getting to 50K.

For now, to the halloween party!

Fri, 27 Oct 2006 03:26:48 GMT

42,787.

85%

only about 8,000 more to go and a novel is born.

If at all possible

Thu, 26 Oct 2006 07:37:49 GMT

I think I should be more into the process of obsessing about ME, because it encourages others to to the same, and it takes a load off.

Or the opposite.

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 03:47:20 GMT

40,831

I think when I get to 50,000, I'll buy myself something that phir sells.

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 16:36:27 GMT

38,347, which is more than three-fourths of the way.

Still no plot to speak off.

this section I"m very proud of:

Imagine that in my apartment there is a thong that is not my size. It has made itself at home near the front door, and is now relaxed like a bear trap, waiting for you to tread on it. Imagine you have the guts to ask me why I would have a thong so big having around my front door, as reviled as an over-attentive St. Bernard with a gastrointestinal problem. I will sigh and you will say “tell me Jane,” and Ill try to pretend like its not that special, but to you the thong is special, so here’s the story:

“I used to buy.”

Now the thing that I don’t get about the Jenny Jenny is the mythic proportions it took. I told people I was buying for Jenny Jenny and they asked me for the story of Jenny Jenny, was it true that she came from small town, but was driven into the city because they were afraid of her phallus and the Goddess inside her? And Id say yes, it was true, and they’d say tell! So I make up stories about a bitter gym teacher and a jealous preacher’s wife who were caught in the closet and then proceeded to take revenge. So Jenny Jenny, the deity with the ding-a-ling, left the tiny haven town for good, taking her goddess and her gunter to the big city were nobody cared if you’re a barmaid with a bratwurst under your skirt or in the old boy’s club member with a member that was more of an inny and than an outy. Jenny who, I’d better get this back to her.

“No,” They’d say, tell us more, tell us about her lovers.

“When she got to the big city, she struggles at first, the city is hard, but the city is big, and change can come fast. She danced in a nightclub and soon she had millions of lovers. Every where she went, men adored her. They sent her presents of roses and Champagne, bitter chocolate from the south, expensive jewelry from Gherki’s best stores. There were exquisite painting, fine fabrics, I should get this back to her.”

“No,” they’d say, “tell us how she treated her lovers.”

Her personal secretary answered and signed all the letters,-“

"-Tell us how she challenged them."

When he wouldn’t leave her alone, she said he had to prepare himself. “Cut your body,” she’d say handing him the knife. “Cut up your arms and prove that you’re strong enough. Cut up your legs to prove that you’re fast enough. Cut your eyes, if I’m the only person you would see, cut your mouth, to prove that you can be silent if I ask.”

My audience stares at me, and then someone says “Did they cut?”

“Not all of them. Some of them threw down the knife and walked away, never looking back. But some of the them took the knife and said “This is how I love your arms” and they cut their arms, etc. I need to get back to her.”

“But Jane, tell us the last part!”

“The last part?”

“The part with her lover who took her thing.”

“Okay, so Jenny Jenny met a guy she actually liked.”

“What did he look like?”

“Ummmmmm he looked like a deer with dark eyes.”

“And antlers?”

“Yes, and antlers. Jenny who, Jenny Jenny fell in love with him, but he thought she was playing with him, that she would manipulate him the way she did his brothers. She told him that no, she hated to hand them knives, but what could she do?

(It was lie, really, she liked seeing men cut themselves, because it was the only thrilling thing they had left.)

The man said to her “IF you love me, would you lie for me?” and she said “yes, I would,”

“Would you cry for me?”

“Yes,” she cried, “I would.”

“Would you die for me?’

She didn’t say a word. He handed her the knife and said “cut off your thing.” My audience, all short and big eyed, gasps at this point in the story.

“But I can’t, it’s the source of my power. Without it, I would have nothing. I would be nothing.”

He looked at her intensely with his dark eyes, waiting for his show to begin, and then she knew that her power was inside her.”

“Then what happened?” the children yell in chorus.

“Nothing, because that’s the end of my story.”

“Awwwwww,” The chorus of children call, but they are quickly distracted, and then it’s just he me facing my dealer, Mr. Xavier.

“Where did you get all those-?,” and I stammer.

Those are called children, and I’m watching them. They’re not all mine.”

“It’s kind of funny that I never see adults around here.”

“That’s because they are at work, Miss Jenny. Yes the kid’s parents work, and they work hard. It’s really only me here to watch them. Their parents, the mayor’s got them working in the bay out there.”

“That must be a long commute.”

“Some of their folks, they come home very late at night, and some of them, they don’t’ come home at all.”
“Do they know what’s going on in the bay?”

Mr. Xavier just shook his head. In reply. It’s an annoying question; no one knows what they are drilling the bay for, only the mayor has hired so many people to go out there and made so much noise tht we can har it in the city. The Mayor tell sus stories of untapped oil and sunken landmarks, all of which have been disputed, but they keep on drilling. Next he will tell us it’s a hole int eh toehr side of the earth, and we will not believe him again, but it will continue, they will say they’ve spent too much now to stop before the project’s done.

“Maybe,” Mr. Xavier offers as a theory, “he thinks he can create a worker that vortex that will suck down the entire city.”

“That seems more likely,” I reply.

If there is no sounds of rolling wheels, or honking horns, then all over the city the sound of drilling in the bay is audibly apparent, what they are drilling for and why has been a mystery for the past year since it started.

The End (of the legend of the Jenny Jenny)

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 06:18:49 GMT

37,289

So very close to the 75% done mark.

Plot is still holy.

The dresden dolls were wonderful.

I am

Thu, 19 Oct 2006 04:17:33 GMT

at 36,722 words.

I'm wondering if 50,000 will really be enough.

In other news, last year it was a lot warmer at this time of year.

O O O

Wed, 11 Oct 2006 02:02:49 GMT

If you were planning on getting me Mark Z. Daniewleski's new book "Only Revolutions" for my birthday you are TOO LATE! because I got it and I'm going to get it signed tomorrow!

Yssssssssssssss

Who's leg do I have to hump to get a martini in this joint?

Tue, 10 Oct 2006 03:32:34 GMT

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I'm at 35,135.

I had better get to work.

Wrist Tryst

Fri, 06 Oct 2006 05:51:47 GMT

Sitting in that last minute dragged out meeting where I am playing the stooge and.

every time I feel my own wrists bend I remember.

rearranging your's in your sleep, which arouse you.

you insisted you knew that your wrists were okay, but.

What could I say,

I never felt so close as to pull your hands out and open those important passages between your digits and your brain,

While you so peacefully,

So softfully,

dreamt your soul full of of joy.

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 04:06:42 GMT

34,003

and I'm watching peewee's play house

and wishing I didn't have to go to work tomorrow, but that's life.

Until I get this novel written, become rich and famous, and I can spend the rest of my life watching peewee's play house. Or playing in a band.

one can dream, right?

twice in a day? gasp

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 04:12:56 GMT

33,711.

I'm getting less time to work on it at work, as they are making me do work at work now. (I know, those bastards!)

And also I've been out.

Wed, 20 Sep 2006 03:32:03 GMT

I am at 31,683.

I'll think I'll try to do the full 1,667 words a day. see if I can get this stupid rough draft over and done with.

At the same time I'm wondering if my obsessive need to write without care what I'm writing is actually stalling. What if I get to 50,000 and the plot's still holy?

LIke all my stockings?

Tue, 19 Sep 2006 04:12:37 GMT

30,088!!!

HOORAY! 60%!

hmmmmmmm

Tue, 19 Sep 2006 03:45:00 GMT

my lastest great idea which will not last:

From now on only buy handmade clothes.

Let's see how long I can last.

there's a lot printed tee's out there.

not lagging

Mon, 18 Sep 2006 01:49:34 GMT

29,809.

so close to 30000.

*does the happy dance*

I still need to get my plot together though. I have a feeling that at 50,000 I'll still have some missing pieces.

Not lagging

Sat, 16 Sep 2006 20:28:37 GMT

Last night I was up to 28,974. Livejournal wasn't working so I couldn't post. Very productive, I hope my plot will hold up.