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i'm a man now thanks to you
Dec. 6th, 2006 10:42 amI really need a copy of the Who's Sell Out.
I don't remember my dreams from last night except that at one point I was singing publicly in a sort of impromptu way with another person, and we sort of spontaneously were trying to sing the song "Tattoo" from that album, only the version Petra Hayden did in her a cappella rendition, because I've never heard the original (how embarrassing), and my dream self had a sheet of the lyrics only I couldn't read, which I think is common in dreams. And so this morning I had to sing the whole thing in the shower just to prove I could. Not that I could sing all nine vocal parts, but I at least had the melody. But it's a more complex melody, by which I mean it has more sections, than most of the traditional tunes I do, so I think I sort of drifted off-key, which would have bothered me more except that I think I'm getting a cold again and that bothers me far more than my own vocal incompetence. (Oh, to have perfect pitch! Oh, to be able to say, "[name of tune] in A" and launch into it actually in A! Ah well. I'm reasonably content that I can, for the most part, go through an entire song and end in the same key I started in, except apparently Who songs in the shower.)
I am still unable to find "skater skirts" because they're not called that. One of my teammates linked to sites with tennis skirts and running skirts but they weren't what I was thinking of either.
Sadly, the thing I liked best that she linked to (in our discussion of team uniforms) was Sourpuss Clothing, which had all KINDS of little skirts like I was thinking of. ( and then I whine about being fat, which is tiresome, but I leave it as a record of true feelings. )
Hah, I just got the confirmation for my dental insurance election. It goes into effect Jan 1. It costs me $1.62 a week. I thought it would be more.
I don't think I mentioned that the other day I spent 1 3/4 hours on the phone with Wild Bill of Pro-Designed. I want to buy his kneepads. i have to wait for the money to go through to PayPal. I just realized that the math he did over the phone to tell me the price was wrong and I have to do another funds transfer to cover it. Dammit! I'm going to email him and point it out. Although we're about to pick team colors so I should wait for that as well.
I also keep meaning to email my brother-in-law, who is a financial planner and has offered to give me financial advice. He's new and need clients; I'm dumb and need advice; it's a match made in heaven. But I don't think I could really explain that my financial goals include getting fired from my job and becoming a famous novelist, because that's unlikely at best to actually happen. Oh well.
I should go get ready for work. I don't want to. I was going to write a whole witty, pithy entry here. It hasn't worked. You guys flatter me by saying my whining is funny-- last night a customer listened to my tale of how I came to hate Sam Adams Boston Lager (following an incident wherein a customer gestured a couple 20-ouncers of it right off my tray into my chest, filling my shoes with beer with four hours left on my shift) and told me I should be a stand-up comedian. No, I said, it's just a good story.
I just have to collect myself, and it's not working. I was going to write about my writing goals, but I sort of don't have any right now. But! I just remembered I'm on vacation next week, so I think I'm going to tear apart and rebuild Barbarians_Novel then.
What I need is a trusted couple of betareaders. How do professional authors find these? Urgh. I just need someone to help me with plotting and pacing. Otherwise I do this-- write an 180,000-word novel to tell an 80,000-word story. But I've no idea where to even find someone-- the writing groups around here seem inaccessible or hopelessly amateurish, and I really don't have time for another social group right now. Rollergirls takes up way too much time.
Sigh. I'm whining again. Must go get dressed for work.
I don't remember my dreams from last night except that at one point I was singing publicly in a sort of impromptu way with another person, and we sort of spontaneously were trying to sing the song "Tattoo" from that album, only the version Petra Hayden did in her a cappella rendition, because I've never heard the original (how embarrassing), and my dream self had a sheet of the lyrics only I couldn't read, which I think is common in dreams. And so this morning I had to sing the whole thing in the shower just to prove I could. Not that I could sing all nine vocal parts, but I at least had the melody. But it's a more complex melody, by which I mean it has more sections, than most of the traditional tunes I do, so I think I sort of drifted off-key, which would have bothered me more except that I think I'm getting a cold again and that bothers me far more than my own vocal incompetence. (Oh, to have perfect pitch! Oh, to be able to say, "[name of tune] in A" and launch into it actually in A! Ah well. I'm reasonably content that I can, for the most part, go through an entire song and end in the same key I started in, except apparently Who songs in the shower.)
I am still unable to find "skater skirts" because they're not called that. One of my teammates linked to sites with tennis skirts and running skirts but they weren't what I was thinking of either.
Sadly, the thing I liked best that she linked to (in our discussion of team uniforms) was Sourpuss Clothing, which had all KINDS of little skirts like I was thinking of. ( and then I whine about being fat, which is tiresome, but I leave it as a record of true feelings. )
Hah, I just got the confirmation for my dental insurance election. It goes into effect Jan 1. It costs me $1.62 a week. I thought it would be more.
I don't think I mentioned that the other day I spent 1 3/4 hours on the phone with Wild Bill of Pro-Designed. I want to buy his kneepads. i have to wait for the money to go through to PayPal. I just realized that the math he did over the phone to tell me the price was wrong and I have to do another funds transfer to cover it. Dammit! I'm going to email him and point it out. Although we're about to pick team colors so I should wait for that as well.
I also keep meaning to email my brother-in-law, who is a financial planner and has offered to give me financial advice. He's new and need clients; I'm dumb and need advice; it's a match made in heaven. But I don't think I could really explain that my financial goals include getting fired from my job and becoming a famous novelist, because that's unlikely at best to actually happen. Oh well.
I should go get ready for work. I don't want to. I was going to write a whole witty, pithy entry here. It hasn't worked. You guys flatter me by saying my whining is funny-- last night a customer listened to my tale of how I came to hate Sam Adams Boston Lager (following an incident wherein a customer gestured a couple 20-ouncers of it right off my tray into my chest, filling my shoes with beer with four hours left on my shift) and told me I should be a stand-up comedian. No, I said, it's just a good story.
I just have to collect myself, and it's not working. I was going to write about my writing goals, but I sort of don't have any right now. But! I just remembered I'm on vacation next week, so I think I'm going to tear apart and rebuild Barbarians_Novel then.
What I need is a trusted couple of betareaders. How do professional authors find these? Urgh. I just need someone to help me with plotting and pacing. Otherwise I do this-- write an 180,000-word novel to tell an 80,000-word story. But I've no idea where to even find someone-- the writing groups around here seem inaccessible or hopelessly amateurish, and I really don't have time for another social group right now. Rollergirls takes up way too much time.
Sigh. I'm whining again. Must go get dressed for work.
