This blog and website will not be updated for a few months. I've lost every last particle of interest I've had in fanart and fanfiction for the time being, and I don't feel like blogging, either. I'll come back before the end of the year, either to begin updating again, or to tear the site down. Have been struggling against this utter apathy for a while now, and have finally become disgusted with it and refuse to deal with it any longer. This site is supposed to be a hobby of mine, not some burdensome obligation. If my amusements no longer amuse me, then farewell! :P
Bye bye for now. I shall see you later~ ^_^ Those of you who have my phone number, please do call me (or send me an e-mail or, alternatively, dead animals in the mail) if you happen not to see me on Friday nights in IM land. *smoochies*
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
The Forgetful Shotgun Blog
I can't seem to write fanfic at ALL, now. In my last little LiveJournal bleeb I mentioned that it was getting harder and harder to fic...I haven't been able to fic even one sentence since I posted that message. Did I curse myself? All I can think is, "Would the original creator have written them doing/saying/thinking this?" And the answer is always, "Igh...I doubt it."
Teri, Shaz wants nipples. Have scrapped the cutesy princess sleepover party and am furtively inking the OMFG sketch during odd hours as Hubby sleeps and Grammy babysits. Will send it to you hopefully early May. I can't remember now...did you want the original, so that you could real-media, or do you just want a scan to PhotoShop or Paint? Will also hopefully be able to get you all those shrunken files I promised a few weeks ago. Bleh.
I was eating my lunch with great enjoyment, savoring not only the taste of my mother's homemade fried rice, but also the warm fuzzy feeling that I got from knowing that she packed up the lunchbox for me since I had forgotten to do it myself. I was so supremely happy at that moment...and then The Jim walked in and said in a loud voice, "Oh! THAT'S what stinks! That's disgusting! Eyewgh, how can you stand to eat that?" I calmly answered that I adored what I was eating, ignored his subsequent reply, and quietly vowed to myself that I would BEAT tact, manners, and thoughtfulness into my son if nothing else sufficed rather than let him grow up to be such a non-asset to humanity. *seething fury*
...oh dammitall, I just remembered that I still haven't bought an envelope for that Vagrant Story guidebook. *rawr* I'm just going to have to ask Hubby to mail that one next Monday, because I'll never get around to doing anything that requires me to leave the house alone unless it's work. >_<
Master and Commander was awesome. I never want to watch it again. That only makes sense if you're Meriko.
*purrs in anticipation of the next M. Night movie* More creepy music! More Joaquin Phoenix! *squee!*
...I'm probably forgetting to blog about something. >_<
Friday, April 9, 2004
...speaking of sucking and blowing, today I went to a car wash but was chagrined to find that the nifty jet engine car-drying mechanism refused to acknowledge my presence. I complained to Hubby about this when I got home, but my wording was a bit garbled...
"I bought the four dollar car wash but it didn't come with a blow job."
Kids, this is what sinusitis does to you. Don't ever get hooked on allergies. It'll ruin your life.
Jonathan is the most perfect, adorable, loveable baby ever. When God peers down at Jon-boi, He blows on His fingernails and then gives smug looks to the seraphim. Will upload some pictures...whenever my sinuses allows me to bend down to hook up the USB for the digi-cam without demanding brain matter delivered through my eardrums as payment.
Am currently watercoloring Fox's belated birthday present and finalizing Shaz's sketch. The thing that totally cracks me up is that there are nipples in Fox's present but not in Shaz's. Doesn't that just seem...wrong?
I logged in in order to...Lord, I hate it when a word repeats itself in a sentence. It looks so wrong. Anyway, I logged in with the intent to blog about something very specific but bugger'd if I can remember what it was. Good Friday night.
Saturday, March 27, 2004
Shameless Whore Moment #47
[begin begging] Click on the banner to visit them! I get gold every time I lead someone to Gaia through my banner. And if anyone joins Gaia and uses my name as a referral, I believe I get an additional bonus. *woot* [/begging]
Friday, March 26, 2004
Iconponder + a random quiz
Frodo: I'm Frodo. This is Sam.
Thursday, March 25, 2004
Website Update: 03/25/04
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Zen and the Art of Being Married to a Motorcyclist
I need to stop watching CSI.
On another note, hardly a day goes by that I don't get irritated at a motorcyclist. Either my eardrums will be shattered as a hog blasts by my open window, or a motorcycle will go zipping past the eighteen people in line at a signal in order to take the first spot in line, or just something will happen to make me want to stick my head out the window and shout personal abuse. Hubby tried to defend those line-jumping motorcyclists by telling me that motorcycles were smaller and more maneuverable and were allowed by law to pass stopped or very slow cars.
"I know that motorcycles CAN. I just don't think they SHOULD. People who cut in line, just because they can...you know what they're called?"
One of these days I'm just going to snap and start screaming at a motorcyclist. That motorcyclist is going to glance back at me from the stolen front spot in line and then slowly back up to where I am and peer down through my open car window for a moment before flipping up his visor and saying, "Hey, honey. What's for dinner tonight?"
Friday, March 19, 2004
Website Update: 03/19/04
1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
Japanese, baby! I'd hire Joji to be my Almighty Sushi God, thus insuring that Teri would visit me every single year without fail and stay for an extra three weeks. Besides the sushi bar (which would have plenty of elbow room, thank you very much), I'd have regular tables and a few large rooms for parties and a whole downstairs cellar-type floor for uber-large private parties where we'd serve traditional Japanese food in addition to sushi. Oh, and we'd be open for breakfast, too, not just lunch and dinner. Mmm~ Steaming hot rice, miso soup with wakame and tofu and a sprinkling of sliced green onions, salt-grilled mackerel with grated daikon radish, and a little dish of pickles...takuwan, probably. Oh, and for an extra $1.50 you can have natto with a raw quail egg on the side. *PURRRRRRR* Oh God, I'm hungry now...
2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
Books. Lots and lots of good books. Classic non-fiction, poetry, reference, art and architecture, history, cooking, gardening, a whole room full of Chicken Soup books...oh, but no romance novels. And not a single copy of "Shogun" or "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." I refuse. But good customers will receive free copies of "Les Miserables." I will also sell lots and lots of good coffee at the little coffee bar.
3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be?
Swords and sorcery style fantasy with a dash of cyber punk and a generous dollop of medieval/early Renaissance.
4. ...ran a school, what would you teach?
English, heavy on the spelling and grammar. Mathematics, with the stuff you'll actually use in life being required, and the stuff 99% of the population will never need being an option to those children who want to become rocket scientists when they grow up. History, giving each major country just as much study time as America gets. Science, giving Creation as much time as the theory of evolution. Biology, with Wild Kingdom reruns every Friday. Physical education, with one day a week devoted to studying nutrition. Housekeeping, with courses on smart shopping, simple meal cooking, general clothing and furniture repair, and other things that children shouldn't move out of home without knowing. All the students eat in a main hall, and the boys stand up when a female approaches or leaves the table, and all the students stand up when an adult approaches or leaves the table. No one graduates without passing a basic etiquette course.
5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
That idea is so alien to me that I can't come up with a serious answer. Um...Christmas hymns by a 1,000 strong boy's choir? *tries harder* classical piano solos? Good old beefy heavy metal? Contemporary Christian pop? *begins to degenerate* "Oh Holy Night" recorded twenty times on one CD? Whale belches from around the world? The shrieks of the damned arranged with a remix of the Hokey Pokey? *gives up*
Go, Speed Racer, Go!
I got pulled over and ticketed for the first time in my life yesterday. *weep* It could have been much worse than it was, though. I was stuck behind a slow moving truck, so I was only clocked going thirteen miles per hour over the speed limit. Usually Iím doing at least twenty over, and thatís on the back roads. When Iím on ďheadon highway,Ē I do about twenty-five over even in medium traffic. And hereís the kicker: people are still passing me.
You see, I live in California, and I donít care what youíve heard about Italy or New York; you just canít beat bad driving in the Sunny Surfer State, man, especially on the outskirts of the Bay Area. The Bay Area has the best jobs at the greatest companies with absolutely STUPID salaries, but even with those astronomical paychecks, hardly anyone can afford to live here unless they also make naughty webcam movies to sell on weekends. Therefore, you have people (like yours truly last year) who commute hours upon hours from their affordable homes way the hell out in Cowís Back End to their decent-paying jobs in Nearest Civilization, with stops at little drive-through coffee stands on the way.
These poor commuting slobs do everything in their cars but pay attention. Women apply make-up, and Iím not just talking about a little bit of lipstick put on with one hand when trafficís at a dead stop. Iím talking mascara at 80mph. People drink coffee, and when youíre down to the last few gulps of your Starbucks venti half-caff half-fat soy extra hot with whip quad-shot wet hazelnut macchiatto with wheels, you have to tip that sucker back so far you can see the cars behind you without using your rear view mirror. Those A-type three-piece 80-hour crazies are maximizing their drive time by typing busily on their laptops, listening intently to the stock market report on the radio, and yelling frantically on their cell phones that they needed it three weeks ago dammit Jack youíre killing me buddy okay okay okay but I swear to God this is the last time man and then I swear some heads are gonna roll yeah see you Friday six am on the courts.
And then there are drivers like I who simply fall asleep behind the wheel. Sometimes itís not full-on sleep, though. Sometimes my brain just falls asleep, while my body keeps driving. Iíve gone from bed to desk without actually coming fully awake some days. But sometimes Iíd drive into oncoming traffic, and one memorable day I nearly put the car into the bay and ruined the poor Hondaís alignment while wrestling for possession of a bit of the road. You see why I wanted to find a new job before I caught pregnant?
Anyway, I got a speeding ticket (which I fully deserved, I know), so now Iím driving like a little old lady at only five miles per hour over the posted speed limit. This morning someone got so frustrated at having to drive behind me that they passed me on a blind curve over a double-yellow line. Whereís a cop when you want someone else to get pulled over? At five miles per hour over the speed limit, I wasnít even able to keep up with the morning packed-like-sardines traffic on Highway 4. People probably mistook me for a parked car. Iím very sad.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Note to self: don't let your mouth get ahead of your brain.
A tech just called in and instead of asking if I could put him on hold, I blurted, "May I hold you?" Gah. *beats head on desk*
I do believe this beats the time I asked Actelion's Marketing Director to sign my "chest request form." That, at least, could have been passed off by Mr. E as something he must have misheard. And the actual question itself sounds like a fairly reasonable request, since it is a plain and simple fact that I have no chest to speak of. *sends e-mail to Mooncalf, asking for bodaciousness donation*
Monday, March 15, 2004
Website Update: 03/15/04
I'm thinking about changing the color scheme of each sub-page in the future. For instance, the Writings page would be reddish-orange and feature a ranger in the sidebar, the Links page would be green and feature an elf, et cetera. The only thing that's stopping me from doing it right now is the thought that maybe that's just too many graphics for people to load up. Opinions?
[EDIT] Oh, dangit dangit dangit. The "go to chapter 2" link in Snowfly Forest: The Hunt Begins has an unnecessary underscore in it. >_< Must fix Tuesday night after Hubby goes to work and Little gets fed.
Friday, March 12, 2004
Website Update: 03/13/04
Friday Five + Random Dreams
1. What was the last song you heard?
2. What were the last two movies you saw?
3. What were the last three things you purchased?
4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
Dreams I've had this week:
I was being processed for shipment to a small planet similar to Earth in construction, but with absolutely no sentient lifeforms. The atmosphere was such that I would stop aging and never die of any illness. I spent the entire dream weeping and begging for mercy, and at one point actually preferred to be sent to Hell to be tormented by demons than to spend all eternity alone on this ferny little planet without possibility of parole or death.
I was on the set of "America's Next Top Model" and sat there with the hopefuls chatting about who I thought would be the last two finalists on the show before going out for thin-crust pesto duck pizza served with glasses filled with a mixture of water and Sprite.
I was pregnant again, and spent my days fearful because it seemed the house was becoming sentient. Walls would stretch, new rooms would begin to grow off of hallways, and I always felt as if the house was watching the inhabitants. I was especially afraid of what might happen should the house ever get pissed, and so I kept a very close eye on Jonathan, who was toddling around and apt to be randomly destructive in the way of all toddlers.
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