Delilah S. Dawson's Blog, page 53
September 2, 2011
also a dare.
That's me in 2003 during my first and only public bellydance performance.
Why I am showing you this?
1. Because it was part of a convoluted dare/bet/punishment on Twitter.
2. Because every cell in my body has been recycled since then, so technically, that isn't me. That's some other girl, and I have some of her memories and also the same Cheshire Cat tattoo.
3. Because I can't dress up as slave Leia and go to Dragon*Con.
4. Because I feel like if I post something on my blog, I'll have it forever, and I found the photo today and didn't want to lose it, because I never want to forget what it felt like, dancing for the crowd as they clapped and stomped.
5. Because I miss having hair past my waist.
6. Why the hell not? HONEY BADGER DON'T CARE.
*
Please don't make me regret it. No laughing. Okay? OKAY?
I will never again confuse Spielberg for Lucas while half asleep and Tweeting about hats.
September 1, 2011
what was missed
Computer died Saturday. Here's what happened since then:
1. WENT INSANE.
2. Got cute haircut from my adorably pregnant hairstylist.
3. Tried on a dress that looked like it was made out of monarch butterflies. Did not buy.
4. Sent the wee lad to preschool. Celebrated with beignets and cafe au lait.
5. Got that song about dancing on the edge of the Hollywood sign stuck in my head.
6. Went to Borders. Bought 4 books. Read 2 of them, plus one on the Nook, plus 2 I won in Twitter contests.
7. Had mysterious headaches every night.
8. Belatedly realized mysterious headaches were caused by frantically power-reading 6 books in 5 days while wearing contacts.
9. THAT SONG IS STILL STUCK IN MY HEAD.
10. Held a birthday party with a hula Barbie cake in which the cake was a chocolate pumpkin cake and brownie mound slathered in homemade buttercream and forkingly decorated to look like a grass skirt.
11. Ate an awful lot of Barbie's skirt.
12. IT'S MY PARTY, DANCE IF I WANT TO, WE CAN BE CRAZY, LET IT ALL OUT. YOU AND ME AND WE'RE RUNNIN' THE TOWN, AND LA LA LA.
13. Watched the movie Take Me Home Tonight, which was adorkable, if somewhat painful. I hate watching nice people get caught in stupid lies. YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIE TO YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH, TOPHER GRACE.
14. Read a Glamour magazine that had Demi Moore on the cover. She's been so Botoxified and airbrushed that I thought she was Annie from Community. I get the aging gracefully thing, and I'm not enjoying it myself, but it just creeps me out that she looks 23.
15. IT'S ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, AND WE'RE DANCING ON THE ROOFTOP, TOP OF THE WORLD.
16. Seriously, it's like that song and the song about shuffling and everything Katy Perry ever did are trying to beat me to death with my own neurons.
17. I need new music.
18. What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Things that were missed.
19. I miss Nirvana. The restaurant and the band.
20. I basically went crazy. I need this laptop. I need to write. I need to do work. I need to communicate and share tidbits. It's become such a part of who I am. It's my diary, my photo album. It's almost like I'm outsourcing my memories. DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN, HELP-er. I NEED YOU.
I also need sleep. Hularbie pictures tomorrow. Maybe.
If you're good.
*
1. WENT INSANE.
2. Got cute haircut from my adorably pregnant hairstylist.
3. Tried on a dress that looked like it was made out of monarch butterflies. Did not buy.
4. Sent the wee lad to preschool. Celebrated with beignets and cafe au lait.
5. Got that song about dancing on the edge of the Hollywood sign stuck in my head.
6. Went to Borders. Bought 4 books. Read 2 of them, plus one on the Nook, plus 2 I won in Twitter contests.
7. Had mysterious headaches every night.
8. Belatedly realized mysterious headaches were caused by frantically power-reading 6 books in 5 days while wearing contacts.
9. THAT SONG IS STILL STUCK IN MY HEAD.
10. Held a birthday party with a hula Barbie cake in which the cake was a chocolate pumpkin cake and brownie mound slathered in homemade buttercream and forkingly decorated to look like a grass skirt.
11. Ate an awful lot of Barbie's skirt.
12. IT'S MY PARTY, DANCE IF I WANT TO, WE CAN BE CRAZY, LET IT ALL OUT. YOU AND ME AND WE'RE RUNNIN' THE TOWN, AND LA LA LA.
13. Watched the movie Take Me Home Tonight, which was adorkable, if somewhat painful. I hate watching nice people get caught in stupid lies. YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIE TO YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH, TOPHER GRACE.
14. Read a Glamour magazine that had Demi Moore on the cover. She's been so Botoxified and airbrushed that I thought she was Annie from Community. I get the aging gracefully thing, and I'm not enjoying it myself, but it just creeps me out that she looks 23.
15. IT'S ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, AND WE'RE DANCING ON THE ROOFTOP, TOP OF THE WORLD.
16. Seriously, it's like that song and the song about shuffling and everything Katy Perry ever did are trying to beat me to death with my own neurons.
17. I need new music.
18. What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Things that were missed.
19. I miss Nirvana. The restaurant and the band.
20. I basically went crazy. I need this laptop. I need to write. I need to do work. I need to communicate and share tidbits. It's become such a part of who I am. It's my diary, my photo album. It's almost like I'm outsourcing my memories. DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN, HELP-er. I NEED YOU.
I also need sleep. Hularbie pictures tomorrow. Maybe.
If you're good.
*
August 30, 2011
127 hours
Is that how long I've been without a power cord?
I can't tell.
The time all runs together.
I've read three books. I cleaned up after the party. I sliced the cake into large slabs and put them in the freezer so it would be harder for me to nibble. And I'm getting 8 hours of sleep per night.
I can't write. I can't edit. I can't beta. I can't socialize.
I can't tell my 324 Facebook friends that I abhor old people who cut in line in front of people with small children. Seriously, if I can't tell you that, if we can't commiserate together about people who drive slowly in the left-hand lane, WHAT'S THE POINT?
Anyway, my new power cord should be here in the next two days, and then I'll get to be myself again. Until then, it's back to being responsible and finding escape in books that I didn't write.
I DON'T EVEN RECOGNIZE MYSELF.
But part of the problem could be that my left toenails are all painted gunmetal gray, and my right toenails are all teal.
It's very confusing.
Honestly, I think I do better when sleep deprived and manic.
*
written in my parents' spare bedroom to the wheezing whine of a chihuahua
I can't tell.
The time all runs together.
I've read three books. I cleaned up after the party. I sliced the cake into large slabs and put them in the freezer so it would be harder for me to nibble. And I'm getting 8 hours of sleep per night.
I can't write. I can't edit. I can't beta. I can't socialize.
I can't tell my 324 Facebook friends that I abhor old people who cut in line in front of people with small children. Seriously, if I can't tell you that, if we can't commiserate together about people who drive slowly in the left-hand lane, WHAT'S THE POINT?
Anyway, my new power cord should be here in the next two days, and then I'll get to be myself again. Until then, it's back to being responsible and finding escape in books that I didn't write.
I DON'T EVEN RECOGNIZE MYSELF.
But part of the problem could be that my left toenails are all painted gunmetal gray, and my right toenails are all teal.
It's very confusing.
Honestly, I think I do better when sleep deprived and manic.
*
written in my parents' spare bedroom to the wheezing whine of a chihuahua
August 26, 2011
moo!
So I got some Moo cards for the Decatur Book Festival that's coming up soon.
And, you know, just to make myself feel fancy.
I just love feeling fancy.
If you don't know about Moo cards, they're so much fun. They're half the size of normal business cards, and you can choose/upload up to 100 different images to go on the back of them. I was in a hurry, so I just did 4. Two are based on a design element from the WICKED AS THEY COME book cover, one is a painting of mine, and one is a photograph I took at the blueberry farm, just so I have some options.
So if you meet me somewhere, I'll give you a card, and you'll be all, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?
And I'll be all, MOO.
*
baker vs. booker
10 Reasons Why I'm a Better At Writing than Housewifery
1. Writing is a lot easier to say, because "housewifery" has a short i. So it's more howse-WIFF-ery, which makes it sound like a horrible new kind of Swiffer. I hate Swiffer.
2. In writing, it's easy to go back and change something. But when I clean the kitchen to a razor-fine shine and *THEN* bake the cake, brownies, and muffins, it just means I have to clean all over again. I hate cleaning.
3. You never have to scrub words with your fingers and get brown mystery gunk under your fingernails. I hate mystery gunk.
4. At the end of the long, painful writing cycle, I get a book. (Supposedly.) At the end of cleaning and cooking for a party, I get two sugared-up monsters and an even bigger mess than I started out with. I hate bigger messes.
5. Even if the writing is really top-notch, it's not like I snack on the words. But the cake and brownies in the oven? Half of them are in my stomach, the uncooked eggs writhing with bacteria and calories. I hate bacterial calories.
6. It's unlikely that I'll burn myself while writing, unless the coffee or pizza is too hot. But I burn myself *WITHOUT FAIL* while baking. Seriously. I just burned my fingers. There go my dreams of being a hand model for hipster steampunk typewriters!
7. I have these insanely bizarre ideas for books. WHAT IF THERE WAS A STEAMPUNK WORLD WITH BLOOD DRINKERS WHO WEREN'T VAMPIRES AND THERE WERE ALSO VAMPIRE BUNNIES AND CIRCUSES? And it works. But my meager dreams of baking always come out lopsided and bizarre. I... actually like lopsided and bizarre. But I don't like it when I can't live up to my own expectations.
8. When I'm writing and my toddler asks me to read to him, I never mind taking a break to read. But when he wants to get involved in baking and squeezes 3 smashed bananas into the floor and knocks over a bottle of oil, I want to tear my eyebrows out by the roots.
9. I can write anywhere, provided they have coffee and I have earbuds. But I have to bake in my house, which only makes it messier, and then I have to clean again and try to keep myself from eating whatever I just baked. Also, I am out of coffee.
10. The entire time I'm thinking about baking and cleaning, I'm really just thinking about things I'd like to write.
On the upside, the house smells MARVELOUS.
More later.
Back to the HOUSEWIFERY.
*
1. Writing is a lot easier to say, because "housewifery" has a short i. So it's more howse-WIFF-ery, which makes it sound like a horrible new kind of Swiffer. I hate Swiffer.
2. In writing, it's easy to go back and change something. But when I clean the kitchen to a razor-fine shine and *THEN* bake the cake, brownies, and muffins, it just means I have to clean all over again. I hate cleaning.
3. You never have to scrub words with your fingers and get brown mystery gunk under your fingernails. I hate mystery gunk.
4. At the end of the long, painful writing cycle, I get a book. (Supposedly.) At the end of cleaning and cooking for a party, I get two sugared-up monsters and an even bigger mess than I started out with. I hate bigger messes.
5. Even if the writing is really top-notch, it's not like I snack on the words. But the cake and brownies in the oven? Half of them are in my stomach, the uncooked eggs writhing with bacteria and calories. I hate bacterial calories.
6. It's unlikely that I'll burn myself while writing, unless the coffee or pizza is too hot. But I burn myself *WITHOUT FAIL* while baking. Seriously. I just burned my fingers. There go my dreams of being a hand model for hipster steampunk typewriters!
7. I have these insanely bizarre ideas for books. WHAT IF THERE WAS A STEAMPUNK WORLD WITH BLOOD DRINKERS WHO WEREN'T VAMPIRES AND THERE WERE ALSO VAMPIRE BUNNIES AND CIRCUSES? And it works. But my meager dreams of baking always come out lopsided and bizarre. I... actually like lopsided and bizarre. But I don't like it when I can't live up to my own expectations.
8. When I'm writing and my toddler asks me to read to him, I never mind taking a break to read. But when he wants to get involved in baking and squeezes 3 smashed bananas into the floor and knocks over a bottle of oil, I want to tear my eyebrows out by the roots.
9. I can write anywhere, provided they have coffee and I have earbuds. But I have to bake in my house, which only makes it messier, and then I have to clean again and try to keep myself from eating whatever I just baked. Also, I am out of coffee.
10. The entire time I'm thinking about baking and cleaning, I'm really just thinking about things I'd like to write.
On the upside, the house smells MARVELOUS.
More later.
Back to the HOUSEWIFERY.
*
