Going to the skunk show today. Hobkin’s primped and preened, blankets and snacks are packed. britzkrieg will arrive in a couple hours. The only thing left is to load the car and take down the pen.
A whole day of skunks!
Got drenched this morning walking into work from the parking lot, even with my trusty umbrella. And now it’s cold.
Packed Matthew up last night, and as I post this, he’s probably still en route to Kentucky, although nearing his destination. (Edit: He just phoned, and he’s arrived safe and sound.) He’s spending the weekend at the Midwest Entertainment Industry Conference, being a judge for their film festival. So it’s just Hobkin and me for the next few days. Got some errands to run tomorrow, the skunk show on Saturday, and I believe there’s a neighborhood Nazi, I mean homeowners association meeting on Sunday. Still, that leaves plenty of time for writing and/or feeling lonely. Wish I’d thought to time some chick flick movies on NetFlix.
Bathed Hobkin. There was havoc. There was bedlam. There was chaos. End result from the carnage and mayhem: a squeaky clean, but verily annoyed skunk. On the plus side, he didn’t hit me in the face with a sudsy tail this time, but not for lack of trying.
Also, dude_the has posted more pictures of last weekend’s Halloween shindig. They can be viewed at his website. I especially like his “Hello II” picture of Hobkin (on page 2).
New words: 100+ I think this counts as one of the lapses and/or stumbles. Gurgle.
100 Club for Writers
3/100
The election results were nothing short of depressing. While Kerry was clinging to hope that the provisional ballots from Ohio would all miraculously be in his favor, I was too much of a realist to continue clutching at false optimism. And lo and behold, reality sucks.
So, I say with resignation and despair: Americans suck. We voted in the belligerent ninny for four more years. Crappola. Crappola. Crappola.
Going to try to put thoughts of the desperate state of the nation out of my head.
Plan for tonight: Get Matthew ready for his trip to Kentucky. Bathe Hobkin in readiness for the skunk show. I anticipate much havoc and suds.
Finished up my review for last week’s Sci-Fiction story and wrote one for this week’s. Mailed both to my Tangent editor. With the election madness being over now, I suspect he will be catching up on the publishing front before too long. At least I hope so.
New words: Pathetic, but over 100. ‘Nuff said.
100 Club for Writers
2/100
Today:
We voted. Civic duty accomplished. With the news filled with coverage of hours-long lines, we expected something of a wait at our polling place. Nope. No line. No waiting. We were in and out in less than fifteen minutes. Hope everyone else did their time in the booths!
Halloween overview:
Where have all the costumed kiddies gone? We only got a few batches of them on Halloween, and we’ve got piles and piles of candy leftover. Too much candy. Must find other ways of disposing of it or I will eat it all.
Had a lovely Halloween. We had britzkrieg and her hubby, rigel_kent, over as well as dude_the and Nick-of-no-LJ, of course. There were costumes. There was food. There were alcoholic beverages. britzkrieg brought a really nummy bottle of champagne. Watched Topper and The Last Skeleton of Cadavra, which B & R hadn’t seen before. I think B’s planning on going out ASAP to get her very own copy now. Hee.
Happy Halloween, everyone! I love Halloween–magic, myth, candy, and costumes–it could only be better if it was a work holiday too.
Had a fantastic day yesterday. We took dude_the and Nick to Lenox Square Mall, more for an outing than to do any real shopping. Nick stocked up on his supply of Teavana tea, and with dude_the being our Mac fanatic, we had to stop at the Apple store, of course. We played on their 30″ flat-screen monitor. There was much oooing, and not an insubstantial amount of drool.
Matthew made his unparalleled Seitan stew for dinner, and we completed part II of his Halloween game. It was wicked twisted. dude_the‘s character died at least a dozen times (we stopped counting after a while), and utterly embraced his victimhood. Nick’s character tore out hearts with glee and appetite. There was carnage. There was mayhem. And we won out against the forces of evil–or good, or something–and found our way back to our demonic, hell-dimension of a home. Wheee!
Being totally wired after that, we put on the DVD box set of season 1 of Coupling, because Nick hadn’t seen it. I believe the boys watched the whole season through. I conked out somewhere in the middle to the sounds of their uproarious laughter.
And now I am wide awake again, and everyone’s asleep. But I feel great!
Also, Andy Cox, the editor of The 3rd Alternative has posted the cover art for issue #40. By Vincent Chong, titled “Storyteller”:
Isn’t it beautiful? I can’t wait to get my contrib. copy! Screw the check, I just want to hold and read the thing! Well, no, I want to get paid too, but I’m much more excited about the magazine than I am about the money!
It sucks to be the only morning person in a house full of PM persons.
Yesterday, dude_the had a great desire for Pear Woodchuck Cider so we went a-questing. Discovered that there are no fewer than four wine/liquor specialty stores within easy driving distance. Unfortunately, only one of them had pear woodchucks, and only a single six-pack at that. dude_the glomped upon the solitary treasure and we proclaimed the quest mostly victorious. Also glomped upon: much regular woodchuck, pumpkin ale, and “Dead Guy Ale.” I think we’re set for Halloween.
After dinner, Matthew ran part I of his traditional Halloween game. Within the first half hour, apparently we’d already veered far, far from what he’d expected us to do. Tonight: will we save the day or die ignominous deaths? Blood, mayhem, and madness, oh my.
The house is full of people, and I’m the only one awake. Typical.
The plane dude_the and Nick flew in on was delayed due to the fog, so they didn’t walk through the door until after six yesterday. Glad I am to see them. dude_the and I had a bit of dueling digicams–flashbulbs popping everywhere, oh, the carnage!–and there was much hugging.
After much catch-up gabbing and dinner for the starving masses (Matthew bought pies, both pumpkin and cherry for dessert!), we put on Hellboy as neither of our guests had seen it. I fell asleep afterward, and they put on The Ring (I’m too much of a wuss to watch it, so they had to wait until I was insensate). Unfortunately, there’s a lot of phone ringing in the movie, a sound which I find difficult to sleep through. So my dreamscape was weirdly punctuated by movie dialog and noise. I believe dude_the and Matthew were still chatting deep into the wee hours of the AM. Not sure when Nick (who I really need to prod into getting an LJ) stumbled off to bed, but it means that I can expect all to be late risers.
Hobkin, of course, woke me for breakfast and then promptly went back to sleep under his hutch when he was done. So here I am, wide awake and by my lonesome. Oh well, it gives me a chance to catch up on my LJ friends list.
I really do like having such a full house. I just wish Dean could have made it too.
I’ve been remiss in finishing up this week’s review for Tangent. Not sure if I’ll have time this weekend to hammer it out, but I’m thinking I needn’t be so concerned about deadlines until after the 2nd in any case. My editor is engaged in election-related work, and I suspect he won’t be performing his editorial duties until after that foofaraw is over.
Each of the stories in the Embark to Madness anthology is getting an illustration to preface it. Sent off a couple scene ideas to the artist for “Perfidious Beauty.” Hoping to get a sneak peek of the artwork soon. I do love seeing art inspired by my fiction. I especially love it when the images I have in my mind match the one(s) the artist comes up with, like the cover for Ascendancy of Blood. ‘Course sometimes they don’t jive at all, but it’s still neat to see artistic imagery generated from my words.
Found out that Cohn, one of Hobkin’s godmother’s skunks died. He was the one that came back to life on the operating table after dying. Apparently the tumor that they weren’t able to totally excise from him regrew very quickly. It’s devastating for Debbie. She worked so hard to keep him alive after his miraculous return–sleeping on the floor with him so she could be there if he stirred, taking him to work with her everyday. Cohn was the sweetest skunk too, the friendliest baby I’d ever met. Very sad. Going to send her a card. Wish there was something else we could do. Going to go hug Hobkin now.
Today our friends dude_the and Nick-with-no-LJ are flying in to spend the Halloween weekend with us. We were also expecting Dean, but he is combating a mighty plague and had to cancel last minute. Major bummer. But I am greatly looking forward to seeing dude_the and Nick, and engaging in much Halloween frivolity.
I have completed the final details of my costume. It’s the silliest costume I’ve ever assembled–for Halloween or any other occasion–but I will be comfortable in it! No corsets, stiletto heels, awkward accessories, or heavy chains in sight. Hmm. Am I getting frumpy in my advancing years? Oh dear.
Also managed to do a Critters critique (for your story britzkrieg).
Well, maybe not “mortally” . . . I was sleeping all curled up with Hobkin snuggled under my chin, and Matthew was upstairs doing something. Matthew made a loud noise that frightened the wee fuzzwit, who sprang up and dashed away to go cower under his hutch. Unfortunately, what Hobkin used as a springboard for this frantic scramble was my face. One of his hind claws caught me good as he dashed away. Got a long, thin slice right over the cheekbone. Lovely. It didn’t bleed much, but it did break the skin. And it stings.
Sigh.
Received a 75-day form reject from Tin House. This was a long shot in any case. Out it goes again.
And still haven’t heard from Talebones after my query. It’s been over three weeks, and I’ve seen other people hear back from them with only month or so response times recently. I’m seriously thinking communications are getting lost in transit somewhere in there, so I queried again.
200 new words. Oof. Progress is slow and halting. Hell, it can barely be called “progress.”
There’s a deranged, food-obsessed fluffball in my home.
Hobkin is under the pronounced misapprehension that the Death-Cold season is nearly upon us, where the temperature will drop to frigid degrees and food will be scarce unto starvation. This, despite the fact that the fluffwit has never gone without a meal in his life, nor has he ever experienced a temperature colder than the mid-60s.
He’s packing on the weight–gained at least half a pound in the last couple weeks–all in his rump, the bottom-heavy lumpkin. And he’s totally manic about feeding times. He woke me up at 4:30 this morning, convinced he was starving and needing his breakfast NOW NOW NOW. (He typically doesn’t get fed until closer to 7:00.) Suffice it to say that sleep was neither restful nor plentiful for me last night. On a positive note, his winter coat is really coming in. He’s all soft and fluffy, perfect for cuddling and proxy-pillow use.
britzkrieg, I hope you still want to talk to me after the skunk show . . .
700 new words on the new fantasy piece. I’ve got a better idea of where it’s going now. I think.
