Jul. 1st, 2006


Jul. 1st, 2006 10:08 am
It is moderately astonishing that we had a tornado in Cheektowaga, NY, but what really knocked my socks off is that... ok, this tornado was at Union Rd. near Walden. The airport is like three blocks away. NO PLANE DELAYS resulted from this TORNADO. Nope!

Yesterday at work was hilarious, for various reasons. brief roundup of hilarity )

In other news I have been doing a lot of writing on the bus this week, and so when I get home I've just wanted to veg on the Internet. So I've been reading the archives of Smart Bitches Trashy Books.
Which means I have a whole bunch of tabs open of links that either amused or astounded me.

Have you ever read any James Fenimore Cooper? I did in 7th grade, and I liked them well enough to read them all, but dear Christ the man could abuse a comma. I emulated his writing style very briefly, but only because I wanted to frighten people.
Mark Twain snarked the everloving hell out of him, to delightful effect.

I think I knew this but I'm a little scared by it:
Pregnancy Rates For Birth Control Methods. Hmmmmm.

This link has nothing to do with any of the others. This is Artvoice. Z sent me this one.
Iraq Veterans Speak Up
War is a large-scale version of one college football team fighting another; everyone thinks war must have some more significance behind it, but it really doesn’t. People view their government like a child views their parents: I am not sure why we are doing this, but it must be okay because my parents said so, or my government said so…

It's a series of interviews with Iraq War veterans, apparently excerpted from a longer piece available here:

In other other news, not much going on. I have been neglecting the housework. My sisters are coming Sunday night, and I really haven't gotten ready for that at all. I am frustrated because no matter how fast I progress on this novel it's still not done. I am tired because I feel like my life is in a holding pattern and all my working is like a hamster on a wheel. Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak... I mean, at least I'm burning calories, right? I guess I'll try to enjoy the wheel while I'm on it. Some people pay money to get on these things.


Jul. 1st, 2006 09:53 pm
Am I a crappy excuse for a sporting citizen of the world when I say that I am rooting for the bloody football to be done with already fer Chrissake? I mean, I know like the whole world is wrapped up and it and shit, but seriously. Shut the hell up, people. All sports are, in my book, are an excuse for people to crowd into my bar, bully me about the bloody television not being on whatever fucking arcane channel "the game" is on right this second (and if I don't do it immediately, badger me repeatedly), and then once they've badgered me into getting it on, they can then stand there and take up space whilst objectionably ignoring me and not really buying much and shouting a lot, and then not bloody tip me. You know what? No offense to all y'alls who are so excited about this thing, but fuck the World Cup, fuck it right in its ear, and I can't wait until it's over. It was cool for, like, a minute, and I was all, oh thank Christ something to do besides whine over hockey, but now? Enough already; one more person asks me to "put the footy on then" and I'm going postal. Also everyone cool is out of it so there's really no point watching. I didn't say that: I haven't been paying attention honest I mean it.

Item: Happy Canada Day. You know I love you, O my neighbors to the north (actually, in my case, to the west). I love your good beer, cheap furniture, and live totally nude boys and girls (Yes: totally nude. Ontario rules. I never blogged about the strip joint, did I? I meant to. Sorry). Also I love your hockey and your friendly funny people. But Jesus Christ, would you give the flying-out-of-my-airport-and-not-tipping-me a fucking rest? Seriously. You're also getting on my nerves with the separate checks thing: Can no Canadians buy their buddies a beer once in a while? Or, like, just put in their share to cover the bill? No, it has to be arcanely separated checks. ("Me and the fella in the blue shirt there and the boy, on one check, and then the two guys'll probably do theirs together, but she'll want her own check." Me: "Eh?")

Item: Lots of fireworks are going off, which would be okay except I had a bad day and while I'm not at all in a bad mood (actually it never really got to me, but it was, for the record, a bad day), I am a bit twitchy. The explosions aren't helping.
(OK, there were a lot of close little loud ones, but now the big displays have begun across the river, and they're really goddamn big and loud. Also I can't see any of them and it's bumming me out.)

Item: Got home and Z gave me good and bad news. Bad: He didn't even start making dinner. Good: He did all the dishes. I decided that buying him dinner was the best option. We went to Zebb's. Zebb's offers a garbage plate, in a blatant ripoff of Nick Tahou's. I'm amazed Tahou's hasn't sued, as they have done so in the past. (A less-blatant ripoff would be University Hots' "College Plate", which is a garbage plate but at least isn't called one. Tahou's has, in the past, sued over use of the name.) We did not eat the "Zebb's Garbage Plate" because, well, they didn't offer any options on it, and also, if we wanted a garbage plate, we'd just go to University Hots. (It being 100 miles closer than Tahou's.)

Item: I have begun the mental composition stage of a new novel, a romance/action/adventure/contemporary that may not feature any fantastic elements at all. This is a good thing, but it's very weird for me. I should post a poll as to whether I should throw some fantasy in there just for consistency's sake-- but then, Vikings Novel had no fantasy either, and that was Pretty Damned Odd but less weird than you'd think.



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