Darren Endymion's Blog, page 24

Finally Writing, but is it Worth It?

Yes, I’m finally writing and not just talking about it. I don’t know if it was the trauma of this past week, the huge amounts of overtime I’m doing at work and the subsequent need to carve out some time for me, or if I just finally got into it. Regardless. over the past day, I wrote about 10 pages.

I don’t know if the other writers feel this way, but when I put in a shit-ton of work like that — especially after a long period of not writing —�� not only do I feel like I’m coming home, but I’m not sure about the product itself.

It’s the same way with binge watching shows or devouring a novel. I feel like the finer details slip through the cracks. This allows me to enjoy reading or watching a second time, but it makes me wonder what the hell I was doing the first time around and makes me fear that my brain isn’t functioning properly.

With writing it makes me wonder if what I’m doing is worth it at all, or if I’m essentially pooping into a Word document and trying to pass it off as an achievement. I mean, I liked it, but it was my fantasy, my little slice of fun, so that was no real surprise. I still can’t tell if it’s any good, but I suppose I will get to that in the rewrites where I can see more objectively, where the act of creation isn’t so momentous that the achievement overshadows the quality.

It’s about Greek mythology and what the gods and goddesses would do if they presided over our time, focusing on one mortal’s love life and what that will mean for those around him. Since the gods can never agree on anything, it escalates as the human tries to wend his way through life, totally unaware of the strife going on in his wake. The first half is decidedly without climactic action, as it takes time to build up. However, a certain action takes place about midway through which sets the tone for the remaining interactions.

I decided to share an unfiltered, unedited, raw segment of when the action starts to escalate. Again, don’t judge me. I haven’t even proofread it once:

***

All the gods gasped as Eros’ golden arrow was rendered in two.

Ares’ great sword glowed red with the flames of war and chaos. Eros’ arrow burned with these flames and fell into the Pool, dissolving into nothing.

Athena whirled, her shield in her hand, and struck Ares in the face with it. There was a great clanging as Ares flew back, striking the marble lip of a nearby planter. He rebounded, landing on his feet, his lip bleeding. He was laughing.

“How dare you?” Athena breathed, her sword in her hand. “It is not our place to interfere���”

“Nice hit, sister,” Ares said. “But I beg to differ with you: it is our place. Is that not why we are here?”

“It is why I am here,” she said, her body pulsing with controlled wrath. The owl Nycti appeared and flapped to her shoulder, ready for battle. “It is why the Fates are here. It is NOT why you are here.”

***

Again, I don’t even know if it’s good, but I like it and the story surrounding it. I guess time will tell if I like the final result and, after all the other writing stuff has been done, if its good enough to get into the upcoming anthology I’m aiming for. And if not, well, I will have something I like and something that helped me get into the mood (and discipline) for writing again.

Here’s hoping…and all that crap.

Numb Thursday

I am most definitely not feeling blogging today. It has been a horrendous week and a half, culminating in today’s fuckery. However, blogging often surprises me, and since it’s apparent that I usually use it as some sort of twisted diary, I figured coming here and spending some time with you fine people might help cheer me up.

I will start with the banal and work my up to the horrible climax. And then I will try to be Pollyanna and see the good in it all, because I’m trying to be a more positive person.

1) Work has been insufferably busy. I have worked 10 hours every day this week and will continue doing so for the next few weeks. Yet somehow, I am very behind on my work.

2) Prince Scientist’s class evacuated today. They are no longer around and I will no longer have the privilege of seeing him daily. If the Universe is determined to put us together as it would seem, a little more work is needed from it. This shit isn’t over.

3) I had a long, long talk with my cousin yesterday which touched a part of my heart I thought to be closed over and absent.

4) My mother died today. We were not close, the relationship was severed, mostly due to circumstances I won’t go into here, and we lived several states away from each other. I talked to her about two months or so ago when she was supposedly on her last days. She was fine (false alarm) and we got to talk for about a half hour. She fought right until the very end. She was incredibly young, only 57, but had emphysema, lung cancer (which spread to her brain), and then caught pneumonia. It was too much for her and she succumbed to the weight of it all.

So, now for the positives, again from the inconsequential to the serious.

1) I’ve understandably been distracted at work. I’ll be depressed on and off, but I’ll get through it. And right now I’m doing brainless busy work anyway. In my down time I have been looking up tarot card spreads, studying mythology, and catching up with old friends. Maybe if I focused more… But where’s the fun in that?

2) Prince Scientist not being in training may be a blessing in disguise (why do blessings always wear disguises? If I was a blessing, I would wear clown pants, bells, and a three-foot high headdress.) He won’t always be surrounded by other scientists and they won’t be going to break and lunch all at the same time. Also, I already saw him in the break room after they moved today. We may be able to talk alone and I can see if it was all for nothing. Also, in the past two days, he hasn’t bothered with side eye. He looked full on, smiles and all. Not only that, but the new department he is in is on my floor and has earlier hours. He will be forced by departmental time frames and location to be closer to me.

3) My cousin was my idol and my best friend growing up, but people change and we grew apart. I think yesterday was a step in repairing that bond. In truth, it wasn’t severed, just neglected. Things were neither awkward nor strained. And I think it will continue.

4) With that laundry list of ailments, my mother was in a lot of pain all day, every day. I know it’s cliche, but I think she’s in a better place now and not in pain. She’s okay and now the family can grieve and move on with their lives. I got to talk to her near the end. She was basically passed out and on morphine. My siblings had been trying to wake her up. I figured that hearing is the last thing to go, so I had my sister hold the phone to her ear so I could say goodbye. She woke up when she heard my voice. It was only for a few seconds, but she mumbled a few things and passed back out. She knew I was there, even after everything that came between us, and I think that was important to us both.

As for me, I will move on. I’m writing, I have been hanging out with friends, I have a support system, and I will be fine. Sorry to be so dour. If you made it through this entry, rest assured that I will make sure the next one will practically have rainbows shooting out of it.

Threatened Buoyancy

I���d like to think that I bounce back pretty fast. Not a lot actually gets to me. I���m hardly Pollyanna—I���m much too cynical for that—but I usually can roll with life���s punches.

Last Tuesday and Wednesday, though, tested my limits. It wasn���t what was dumped on my lap, but how much of it. Even feathers in sufficient number and weight can kill. I have mentioned that I have recently had difficulty walking. There were all sorts of tests, I was put into physical therapy (which only seemed to hurt it more), and given pain pills to help out when things got bad. After 4 weeks of physical therapy, I was still in pain, so I went to see my doctor again.

This was last Tuesday. On the way from the lobby to the office, I tried to walk too fast, twitched, and twisted my leg. It almost gave out on me and I did an embarrassing bandy-legged dance for balance. I won, but at the cost of a great deal of pain. Consequently, my blood pressure was really high. My doctor pulled notes and talked with me and then began flinging monkey poo at me.

First, he thinks it���s sciatica. The physical therapy did nothing, so he���s sending me to a specialist, a physical medicine doctor far, far away (for someone who doesn���t drive). Second, getting to this doctor means relying on the kindness of others or public transportation. I���m not one of those schmucks who thinks he���s above public transit. But getting on, finding a seat, and especially getting off the bus are all anxiety-inducing affairs, any one of which could cause me severe pain. Third, my blood pressure, which is always great, has spiked since the summer���when my leg and back started hurting. Consequently, my doctor put me on blood pressure medication. I haven���t picked it up yet. Fourth, I have to have X-rays. More money, more time, more bus rides. Fifth, because I���m not walking and not working out anymore, and I certainly haven���t curbed my eating habits, I have gained weight. This lovely doctor���s office visit gave me a number to go with my insecurity. (Frankly, it���s lower than I thought it would be). Sixth, after all this is done, I���m probably back in physical therapy (more pain, more bus), or get to have injections, or if it���s REALLY bad, I have surgery to look forward to.

Feeling old and broken, I hobbled home, got into bed, and took a nap, thinking that I would have perspective when I woke up. Nope! I was just as depressed. I read, played video games, texted with friends, nothing worked. I eventually went to bed thinking that I would gain perspective by morning.

Wrong! I couldn���t shake it off. I���m not old, I���m not broken, I���m normally in great health���until 2014, apparently. But I felt like Yoda with a broken back, shingles, and rheumatoid arthritis. I was Eeyore, sighing, moping, head in my hands, all that.

My crush, Prince Scientist passed me the next morning giving me side eye. I went to wash my cup in the break room���and he was there washing his cup. I asked if I could squeeze into the other side of the sink. He said sure, and gave me the water. He asked how I was, I lied, I asked how he was, he said good and thanked me for asking���and I never once looked at him. Then there was a pregnant pause. I could have said something, but I was so in my own head, so depressed, so anxious, that I didn���t. I finally went to say something and was interrupted by someone applying for a spot on my team. She was having a busy day, and every time I tried to schedule her to take our test, she told me she wasn���t free. Finally, exhausted, I said, ���Tina, you���re giving me angina!���

Prince Scientist was standing next to me the whole time. Hovering. Laughing. Finally, he filled his cup with hot water and must have passed really close to me, because I actually felt him go by. I asked if I was in his way and, still laughing at my angina comment, he said I was fine. He looked at me, I smiled back, and he lingered. Tina started talking again. Prince Scientist hesitated. The ego part of me hopes it was waiting for Tina to stop talking so he and I could walk back together.

She didn���t. I told her I would catch up with her later, and followed my Prince. But, with my leg, I���m just not fast enough. He was walking slow at first, but I manage to hide my limp, so it probably looked like I was being even slower on purpose. He sped up, and I watched him trail in front of me all the way to my desk.

It was a rough day, but I eventually regained my buoyancy around noon. I can only take this sciatica stuff one step at a time. And I found out that Prince Scientist is in training for at least another week.

So, not all is lost. Not even my buoyancy.

Sailor Moon Crystal ep 01-12 — Queen Metallia

I have to admit, this episode kicked a supreme amount of ass. It picks up right where the last one left off, with Queen Beryl confronting the Sailor Scouts in the supposedly secret lair (no thanks to Jupiter). Speaking of, Jupiter finally joins the fight, the Scouts all make shields to protect everyone, and Mercury learns the Time Warp. She transports them all to some different dimension, where Queen Beryl begins to look crazier than Annabelle the possessed doll making love to Captain Howdy.

Beryl takes a trick out of Kaorinite’s book and wraps the Sailor Scouts in her hair (was I the only one hoping she had washed that mane recently?). This is where I started getting chills which didn’t stop until Sailor Moon ran away with Endymion. Venus tells Beryl that she finally pushed her too far and she’s pissed off. Venus summons the Moon Sword and should have given Queen Beryl a pixie cut with everything she chopped off, but Beryl is apparently the spokeswoman for Rogaine for women, and comes back with flowing waves from her murderous follicles.

Sailor Moon grabs the sword, Venus does her Venus Love Me Chain, Mars burns the hell out of Beryl’s hand, and Sailor Moon destroys the source of Queen Beryl’s power���her goddamned necklace. That may be the gayest thing I have ever written. “My power is in my jewelry!” *prance*

Sailor Moon runs after Endymion and they fight. Sailor Moon tries her Moon Healing Escalation, which has absolutely no effect. Meanwhile, the other Scouts run into their homo ex-boyfriends, Jadeite, Nephlyte, Zoicite, and Kunzite/Malachite. They bring them back to their senses, not with the power of love, but with the memory of their hot, male ex-boss. I am telling you, they were Darien/Mamoru’s playthings. Apparently, Endymion was Henry III of France. (Trust me; that was funny.) Darien’s old grab bag of man candy all recover their memories���in time to be murdered by Queen Metallia. The Scouts start to cry, but hear the voices of the dead and take that as a good sign to press forward.

Sailor Moon hears voices in her head and appears to commit murder-suicide to free Endymion from his pain. She is apparently a complete sociopath, but she’s cute, so we ignore it by mutual consent.

And that’s where the episode ends. *confetti*

New Year, No Plans, Near Misses

Since it is still better for me to not say where I work, I will continue to say that I work in a pig launching factory. From the very first day of January all through the beginning of April is a time of hideous, unrelenting business for me and my team. Perhaps people want to launch pigs for the new year; I can���t be certain. Unfortunately, this means that I haven���t truly celebrated New Year���s in many, many years. It usually consists of one long nap after work, looking at the time, saying my resolutions to myself, and going right to bed, because I have to tend to the tottering reports of pig launchings the next day.

Consequently, this week is somewhat annoying. Since I am still single, *glaring at Prince Scientist* while others are out there getting kissed on the stroke of midnight, I���m lucky to get one by March. And even then, it���s more likely to be some stray dog licking me for the salt. (It���s been a very dry period. Forgive my bitterness.)

But this year I don���t plan to go out like that. This year, even if I have to work 10 hour days, 5 days a week (which is what next week looks like), I will do something with my life. I will see my friends. I will not sleep through January and watch depressing documentaries just so I can see that other people have had it much worse. I plan to do something, even if it���s low key. Chores won���t be tossed off until the weekend, thus tainting it, too. And, if this week goes well, I may have a scientist to dote upon.

Today, determined to set something up, I guessed when Prince Scientist�� would come in and went to the break room, ostensibly to fill my water cup, but actually to catch him in the hall. I missed him by 3 minutes, and he was going the opposite way so that he would come down MY aisle. On break, he gave me side eye as he passed. For lunch, he ditched his friends and passed down my aisle alone. Unfortunately, I was on the other side, helping a coworker. Damn! Coming back from lunch, he once again came up my aisle, but he was early and I wasn���t expecting him for another 10 minutes. I was hidden from view and he didn���t see me until too late. No side eye, not even a look so I could say hi. Arrrrgh! If I have one more near-miss, you will have to hear about this again on the news.

Now, I had vowed to not talk about this crap anymore and said as much to a few friends. Maybe it���s the female demographic or something, but I was told that this whole thing is ���so cute it���s almost sickening���. It was seconded by two other people. I thought it was just sickening. As he is an overly educated professional and we are in a professional environment, I want to be as discreet as possible. If I asked him out in front of the other scientists, I risk embarrassing him and getting rebuffed accordingly. As we see, timing is everything, and could reduce it all to nothing.

The time is now. Fuck being shy. I don���t care anymore. I���ll get the butterflies, I���ll be nervous, I���ll maybe even choke a little, but I���m going to talk to him. If I can only get him alone. I���m changing tactics. A dear friend of mine recently told me that I���m one of the strongest people he���s met. I was tempted to ask if he spent his life in an Asylum for the Cowardly (run by Sister Jude?), but I took the compliment. It���s time to show that goddamned strength, then.

If all goes well, my new year may start as something more than a series of (hopefully) longing sideways glances and may be something more. If not���well, I���ll survive. But that���s hardly romantic, is it?

Bracing for the Storm

This is my last weekend of peace. The busy season at work is a week away. 6 day weeks, up to 10 hours a day are looming in my future. I’ve been through it over and over again, but it never gets easier. However, I am now the bitter veteran—I’ve seen it all before, been through it all at least twice, and I know I will make it out alive.

I got through the writing scene which so plagued me. Surprising myself, the scene came out a little more licentious than I expected. However, it fits one of the characters and I think was a decent illustration of the two people’s differing values. If that was the hurdle, I’m over it. It’s taking me a while to write this one. I’ve only spent a few hours actually writing it, but many days in between. I blame it on the holidays and getting into the groove. Next week I may post a little of it (the non-sexual part) for the hell of it.

Next week I will have a totally full plate and I’m actually looking forward to it.

At work I have to test and interview 28 applicants for our team. I will have to pour through written exams, grade them, and narrow the playing field. Then I will have to confer with my supervisor, then his boss, and hire someone. I have to write a bulletin to be sent to the entire department at several sites in multiple states. Then I have my normal duties. One of the smartest (and cutest) guys in our department looked at me with sympathy and told me good luck in a voice which implied that he expected to be attending my funeral after my stress-induced aneurysm.

Hottie Prince Scientist will be in his last week of training at the end of my row. We say hi to each other every day, we are all smiles, and he gives me what I suspect he thinks is subtle side-eye about four times a day. Today as he was doing it, he saw someone he knows at the desk next to mine, and did a double take, then�� said hi to him. Had he not so obviously been giving me side eye, he would never have seen his friend. Caught in the act. Then I backed up to see him as he was giving my empty desk side eye. I caught him looking at my chair, glance at me, and then look away shyly. Great. I’m shy, he’s shy.

However, this shit is really, really old. I’m talking to him this coming week if I have to stalk him to the break room and drape myself across his lap in front of all his scientist friends. I’ll have my friends dress up like fattened, adult female cupids and shoot suction cup arrows with my phone number attached. Get the chloroform; I’m going in. Send me happy thoughts and wish me luck…and hope that I haven’t misread the signs. I still need my job.

Add to that the writing I plan to do, no matter what, and I have a full week. If Fate is with me, I’ll get it all done.

And if I pass out from exhaustion, I’ll be sure to do so in front of Prince Scientist while demanding mouth to mouth.

 

Writing Romance at Christmas *vomit*

Christmas doth approach. After my last (rambling) post, I conjured up enough residual Christmas spirit to watch the movies I wanted to and to finish the last minute shopping I had hoped to finish. I managed to squeeze in my first ever viewing of It’s a Wonderful Life and then followed it up with my favorite movie ever, Misery. I’m sure there’s a message in there somewhere, but I don’t care to tweeze it out.

My computer at work was finally returned to me, literally 5 minutes before I left on Friday. I took Monday off, so I haven’t booted it up to see what’s missing, or if my work Sanity Diary has been marred with the number to a good psychiatrist and a prescription for OCD medications. I’ll take what I can get.

I did write a bit at home, though, starting a scene which I frankly didn’t want to. For someone who has thus far only published gay romance, I’m surprisingly not at all fond of writing sex scenes. They give me angina, glaucoma, shin splints, and swimmer’s ear. In fact, you might say that I hate them. One of the reviews of my novel, Winter’s Trial, saw this as a bad thing, expecting there to be graphic sex when the main characters finally meet. I’m not sorry to disappoint that way. It’s not that I’m a prude—far from it—but I guess I’d rather leave a little up to the imagination. And I like my stuff better without it. And if I hate to write sex scenes…why do it?

That being said, the second scene in my current short story is a post-coital one. When we first meet two of the three main characters, they are naked and in bed together. Even that stopped me up. I didn’t want to write it. I got a tooth ache, tendonitis, and I think I started coming down with rabies. I suppose I should examine why I loathe writing graphic sex scenes so much, but for now I think I’ll just go with it. The scene is not at all graphic but I prefer story to filler masquerading as titillation (which it would be in my case…NOT necessarily in that of anyone else). I hope not to write only romance forever (gay or otherwise), however, the world of gay publishing (and my publisher in particular) requires romance. And it can be fun, it has its place, and I’m not putting it down, despite what it may seem.

However, if I have the talent, drive, and luck to write mainstream someday, I’m sure that I will be criticized for writing at least one book where my main characters seem as though they have no genitals whatsoever and possess all the romantic urges of a anesthetized mollusk. I don’t think that will make me happy, either. The sweet spot, the real truth lies in moderation.

That being said, I am very single this Christmas. Now, I have been single for the holidays more often than not, so I’m fine with it, but I seem to be overly aware of it this joyous season. It might be the absence of my friend and ex, my annoyingly pervasive crush on Prince Scientist Charming (who gave me all sorts of signs he was interested this past week…and vice versa for once!), or the fact that I’m writing romance at Christmas.

Whatever the reason, I have A Christmas Carol and Misery on loop, all the porn anyone could want, and at least two more weeks of seeing my crush every single work day. I hope I’ll make it through.

Christmas Malaise, Tarot, and Updates

This has been an odd week and not one I would not care to repeat. But there are some things I have realized and some updates to give.

1) I am the biggest anti-Christmas Grinch this year. I am the Scroogiest of all that is dour and cranky. I’m so not into Christmas this year that I can’t even bear to watch my favorite Christmas movie, the terrifying CG version of A Christmas Carol. I listened to the audio book for��it and felt nothing. I can’t seem to even get through my favorite Christmas audio book, Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris. I can’t get into Christmas at all.

2) I think the reasons for this are multiple. I expected to be living in another state by this time. Now I’m looking at spending the busiest, ugliest season ever in a job I don’t care for and wanted to be rid of. Also, it’s the loneliest Christmas I can think of. I have no romantic prospects. I have an ex with whom a friendship regrettably seems to have failed and a crush I can’t seem to talk to.

3) Have you ever had a tarot reading? A really good one? Well, I’m versatile with good readings: I take them and I give them. I recently had one by a dear friend and have given myself several. Believe what you will, but all I can say is that, statistically speaking, it’s nearly impossible for the same cards to come up over and over in multiple readings using multiple decks. They all, every last one, predict a huge, momentous love on my horizon. I have been getting and giving readings (for myself, too) for more years than I know. Well over ten, anyway. I have never had these cards come up in my final outcome. (For those initiated, 2 of cups, the Lovers, Knight of cups, and…yes…the 10 of cups. Over and over and over.) They seem pointed in the very near future, and possibly even at my crush.

Normally, I believe these. I have predicted surprise marriage proposals, I have made people cry, I have predicted love and doom and tragedy. And they are always right…unless someone changes everything so fundamentally that the future is changed. But when it comes to me…these readings are so positive�� that I can’t believe them. For all the changes I have made in my life, I’m right back at the same place—unable to step out of my comfort zone and change my own destiny. Do I launch myself at him, or do I let fate take its course?

4) So, I am in the same state of being. I see Prince Scientist Charming every day. He slows down to talk to me when we happen to meet in the hall and are alone. He gives me side-eye as he passes my desk. We are both nervous, I think. And even knowing…or thinking…or imagining that there might be something more, seeing the signs…I can’t find a time or place to talk to him. He’s surrounded by people. I’m surrounded by people. We are at work. It’s harder than you would think, and my shyness doesn’t help. I really don’t know what to do. “Just talk to him” isn’t good advice as there are social niceties that come into play and we are in an environment when he may not even be out, no less.

5) I stopped writing again, mostly since my work computer crapped out on me. Then today it hit me again. A scene so full and imagined that I literally stopped working and let the images flow through my head. I’m not saying that it was a great scene or that it was anything magic or special. But it was vivid and it was demanding. It will be written. It won’t let me choose not to. I have to write several scenes before it, but that shouldn’t be an issue. And, in a way, I’m taking from real life. All those near-misses, all that feeling of fate intervening, all that possibility, the card readings, everything. It’s cramming its way into my story. Now I have to put in the strainer so that art (or whatever) isn’t a mirror for life, but a filter through which some sense and objectivity can be obtained.

6) My physical therapy is over. I realized very late that we were treating the symptoms and not the cause. I need to see my doctor because there is very little change. However, I have been only once in almost two weeks…and I feel better. Is that even right? After stopping, I’m feeling 85% percent better than I did last last week.

7) I’ll be fine. I always am. I love the cold and winter, even the weak-sauce winter of Southern California (rain and mudslides for weeks now). And I refuse to stay in a funk for any reason. I’ll save that shit for the horrible summer if I’m still in the same state of being.

Ugh. I suspect that next week I will talk more about the writing progress and less whining about the other stuff. I will probably not post on Xmas (for all I care about it) but rather the day after. Until then, wish me luck!

P.S. Bwahahahahaha! Seriously, Fate might be intervening. Last year around this time I wrote the short story The Snow Queen, giving the original fairy tale a twist (published in Torqued Tales for 2014). I recently got an e-mail from Audible, which I just opened. They are giving members a free book for Christmas. What is it? The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Anderson. Coincidence? Probably. But it seems like synchronicity. And this year will be different.

Earnest Beginnings, Fractured Hardware

Today, I had an eye-opening experience. A few of them.

My job is boring. It takes a fraction of my mental capacities and I frequently find myself daydreaming or allowing my mind to wander. To fill in the gaps when I simply cannot look at my next project, I do some writing. On Mondays and Thursdays, I will sometimes outline or write an entire blog entry. The other days, I bug my coworkers who either lack my ability to multitask or actually want to do their work. I suspect the latter.

On other days, I make lists, outlines for writing projects, fill out character sketches, keep a Sanity Diary where I log my random thoughts and obsessions so as not to bother my friends and coworkers, research whatever randomness enters my head, or even write scenes on my next writing project.

And, in case you were wondering, yes, I do eventually get my work done, and I do it well. I get good reviews, occasional spot bonuses (where my bosses shovel money at me for doing what they think is a diligent job), and have had positions actually created for me. I’m good at what I do; it’s just so boring that I find picking my nose to be more mentally stimulating. This is good in a way, because it forces me to find ways to entertain myself. I have outlined many a writing project, written entire chapters, and proofread hundreds of pages over time.

Today I was deep in the middle of a Sanity Diary entry (about my crush on Prince Scientist Charming, of course. We talked today and my lame responses likely told him — finally! — that I’m insufferably shy and that I might actually be interested). I was e-mailing my friend. I was making my Weekly List of things I want to get done this week. I was writing a bit of a document for the current writing project (which I have written all of two pages of). I keep all these non-work projects in a folder on my personal desktop in a business-named folder. The slightest intrusion into this folder would show that its contents have nothing at all to do with what the folder is named for.

I was typing away in the Sanity Diary and making notes about a writing project when something happened. My monitors went dark, then into power save mode. The surge protector was functioning. But my computer refused to power on. I unplugged and plugged it in. I changed the plug to another outlet. Nothing. I got my supervisor and he tried everything I had with no more results. He got the local computer guy who told me that these computers have a history of failing power sources.

They told me to call IT. I talked to a lovely woman in Ireland (who knew we outsourced there?! I’m ready to move!) who told me a story about some girl here in California who had called her talking about how it was 72 degrees and it was sooooo cold that she had to wear a jacket, scarf, and gloves to work. *rolling eyes* In her beautiful Irish accent she told me, “Do you know what we would be doing if it was 72 degrees here? We would be swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. No wet suit! Seventy-two degrees…” She said it like the words were filthy and foul and she couldn’t wait to spit them from her mouth. I cackled until my face was red. I told her that being cold at 72 degrees was remarkably dramatic for anyone who was not born in the belly of a volcano or on the planet Venus.

They called in a work order for my computer. Then I started to think. My Sanity Diary is on that thing. Not all my thoughts are work appropriate. Some of my writing is on there, and that is definitely not work appropriate (the swearing alone…). My convoluted thoughts on Prince Scientist are on there! My outlines on Elizabeth Bathory and Vlad the Impaler are on there, research I did for a project I set aside. I had a tarot card reading done which I documented in the Sanity Diary.

I’ve worked there for a billion years. I have never been worried like I am at the moment. They tell me that they can simply put a new power source in there and the computer will be returned to me…so I can clean the fucker out. There should be no need for them to go through the contents of the computer. I don’t have a virus; I know that. But what if?

In two business days I will know the fate of all that work, all those musings, all that dangerous, seemingly psychopathic research. I will know if I need to explain, or if I need to pack.

But I had good work on there, good research, good character profiles, good current work. I was writing…and now it may be gone. Or being read by a very bored (and soon to be very shocked) IT person. Lucky for me, my boss and his boss and his boss seem to think highly of me. I might be able to play on their good will.

Or at least get my goddamned stuff back.

 

Sailor Moon Crystal ep 01-11 — Reunion

So, here we are again.

This episode started with Serena/Usagi having a nightmare about Darien/Mamoru. She wakes up, cuddles with Luna, and sets off to go to a slumber party with the other Sailor Scouts. Minako is carying a giant poisonous sword around, and Serena is carrying two elephant-sized bags of snacks. That’s my kind of girl.

Minako shatters a diamond with the sword and Ami acts like it’s no big deal. Must be nice. Meanwhile, Andrew/Motoki is hanging out at work with someone they later describe as feminine. A possessed Darien hypnotizes Andrew into becoming his “best friend” and they proceed to hang all over each other, making Andrew’s girlfriend, Reika, jealous. Then they commit crimes against the Sailor Scouts together. Methinks Andrew needs new friends. He is cuter with Darien, but this Endo seems to be Andrew’s bottom bitch. No wonder Reika is jealous. I also noticed something when Darien was talking about the crystals. He named off Jadeite, Nephlyte, Zoicite, and Kunzite/Malachite. He sure did say that he “had” them all. Looks like my supposition that Endymion got it on with his generals wasn’t far off. *suspicious side eye*

Darien tries to hypnotize Serena but fails…or slip her some Rohipnol. I’m not sure which. She resists but fails to report him to the authorities. Lita/Makoto/Sailor Jupiter tries to defend Serena’s honor, but the poor thing has always been boy-hungry and lonely, so she is easily hypnotized. She leads an assault on Serena until Rei kicks her ass across the room. Tough friends.

Fighting happens and Andrew, Lita, and Luna are knocked out. Serena finally transforms and heals them. She then gets pissed off at the possessed Tuxedo Mask who shrugs off her attack. Queen Beryl appears and there is a stalemate, leaving us hanging until next time.

The stand out in this episode was Sailor Venus. First, she finally uses those beads she has around her waist and beats the hell out of Tuxedo Mask. Then she busts out a season 2 attack, Venus Love Me Chain, and wrangles the silver crystal away from Pazuzu’s grasp. Not only that, but she literally whips the crystal out of the air, grabs it, and returns it to its rightful owner. That’s some talent. Even Catwoman would watch that and think, “Well, shit. I’ve got some stepping up to do.”

Honorable mention goes to Rei/Sailor Mars who kicks the shit out of her friend and then dislocates her hip, leg, and life trying to kick Tuxedo Mask right in the nostrils. Unfortunately, she missed and had to go to physical therapy afterward. A leg should not bend like that, nor should it form the letter “C”.

Next time: Rei in the hospital, and Lita goes to an abused women shelter. Watch the drama unfold when they finally reunite. Lover’s Quarrel: the Broken Hip Edition.

Or…it will be some confrontation with Queen Beryl. Whatever.