aftermath

Apr. 16th, 2017 12:08 pm
the_siobhan: (vertical hold)
I managed to get about 1200 words pounded out between posts and conversations. Not bad.

My hangovers these days mostly consist of just being really really dizzy. I was standing in D's apartment this morning feeling something falling over and completely unable to tell if it was me or something else. As it turned out, it was his laundry basket sliding off the stool.

So it's the last day of my vacation. Apart from the being sick for the entire freakin' time, it was still a productive couple of weeks. I got to visit some lovely people, and we got a a bunch of stuff done around the house.

I think a chill day of just hanging out is in order.

Man, I really don't want to go back to work tomorrow.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
At one of our previous laptops&beers sessions somebody asked the room, "Do any of you have any opinions about Earth Day?"

Hoo boy, do I have opinons about Earth Day.

The first year it went international, Axel & I took part. We turned off our lights, lit some candles, sat around in our creepy living room with the plastic hanging off the bricks because we had no walls, drank a bottle of wine and talked. And it was nice, a little break in the middle of a hectic life.

The next day there were tons of news articles about how many people had taken part. How so many major cities, mine included, had seen major energy use dips. The number of people who participated put the event on the map in a big way. I let myself feel a tiny shred of hope, the sneaking suspicion that maybe we weren't totlaly fucked. Not because an hour of low energy use means squat - it doesn't. But if that many people had demonstrated that climate change was important to them, it couldn't help but be a flag to government and business that hello, WE GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THIS SIT UP AND PAY ATTENTION DAMN YOU. MAKE. A. FUCKING. CHANGE,

Ten years later I no longer participate.

Ten years later, my workplace - which has investments in the oil sands - puts an planet earth logo on their intranet site and encourages their employees to celebrate Earth Day by going for a walk during our lunch break.

Businesses all over town promise to dim their lights for an hour. Immediately after, of course, they go back to being fully lit up all night and causing bird genocide all summer long.

Earth Day is now a performance by marketing companies and PR hacks for the benefit of companies who want to convince people to give them their business becasue "they care". And I no longer bother to participate.




Drink List: A bunch of beers, four maybe? Plus a very strong g&t.
the_siobhan: (dinosaur)
My friends are brilliant exhibit A: Sabz suggested that I solicit my friends for synonyms for clitoris.

Go Go Gadget Friendslist!
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
Back when I was at University I could reliably guarantee that the second my exams were over I would get brutally overwhelmingly sick. I could feel myself getting run-down and exhausted as I got closer to the end of the semester, and I would always think, "Just, _x_ more weeks and I'll be able to rest." Then the second the semester was actually finished all the viruses I had been holding back with sheer force of will would come screaming out of the woodwork and take me out like Bambi meeting Godzilla.

And that's how I spent the last two weeks. The last couple of months at work have been unbelievable levels of busy and I have been coming home so wiped out I can barely function. Then vacation happened and I just - fell right the fuck over. I was so sick.

I'm mostly over the viral vector stage, but now I get to enjoy asthma hangover for a couple of months. Just in time to go back to work.

Bitch just can't catch a break.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
A request was made that Drunk Writing happen again some time soon. So my house is now full of people with laptops and various beverages.

My current project is an attempt to write porn. Did I tell you I'm trying to write porn? Well guess what! I'm trying to write porn. This may or may not work out as badly as an attempt I once made to write a Harlequin romance.

So far my biggest problem is running out of cheeky synonyms for clitoris.

I'm probably not going to post the porn here but when I get stuck trying to think of new and more interesting positions I'll ramble on here.
the_siobhan: (shock and awe)
Who has two thumbs and managed to finish the ENTIRE FIRST DRAFT of her novel.

(It's awful. Like, really really terrible. It won't be ready for critiquing until, oh probably about Draft 3.)

But done, done donitty done done.

I am quite gratified by this.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
I am a little hungover, but nothing some gatorade and a couple of advil can't handle.

That was fun.

How y'all doing?

Chapter 5

Nov. 20th, 2016 02:40 am
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
I am staying up solely to finish this, and I have no idea if it even makes sense.

Axel apparently has over 2 hours of House of Love.

Pretty sure that tomrrow I am going to regret all of my life choices.

a bunch more beer I am a complete mess what have i done with my life )

Chapter 4

Nov. 20th, 2016 01:23 am
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
I have switched back to beer because I am seriously drunk and I'm hoping steppint ti down a bit it might keep me awake longer.

I have been distracted by lengthy debates about Soul Asylum and Iggy Pop.

just another day in the life of a workign stiff )

Chapter 3

Nov. 19th, 2016 11:16 pm
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
Sabz is here, and Tetsab + 1 and we are all drinking various and sundry and I might be a teeny bit fxx00rd

Also I have no idea how to spell laundromat.

many more g&t )

Chapter 2

Nov. 19th, 2016 08:55 pm
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
We put a glass of red wine vinegar on Axel's desk to attempt to catch the fruit flies. It is both hilarious and awful that this is a problem the night that asked people to come over for drunk writing.

several gin and tonics later )

Chapter 1

Nov. 19th, 2016 08:48 pm
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
The three of us have been going through the food and throwing stuff out of our kitchen for days now, trying to figure out where the fruit flys are coming from. Today D finally tracked it down to a bag of injera that had been shoved into a cupboard and basically liquefied in the bag.

So the source of the problem is now dealt with but as I sit here and type these fruit flies keep crossing my field of vision. And they are very interested in Axel's wine glass.

finished the beer, now drinking gin and tonics )
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
NaDruWriNi2016


So I'm a couple of weeks late.

But I've had a few beers and I'm ready to scribble.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)

NaDruWriNi Nov 5 2016


I have been doing this since 2007, holy shit.

Rules are the same as always.

So what shall I write about?
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
It's so gloriously windy outside that Axel & I went and stood on the front lawn for a while. I remember once having a conversation with a friend who said, "I don't care how goth you are, you need to go out in the sun once in a while." I maintain that I can live without ever seeing the sun for the rest of my life, but I would die if I never felt the wind.

I have now had two more glasses of wine and two more gin & tonics. I am, what the professionals call, potted.

My prompt for this one is a combination pf [livejournal.com profile] baratron's Were you inspired by anything in Ireland? and [livejournal.com profile] sabotabby's Why do you sometimes see just a single shoe by the side of the road?

blah, blah, blah )

It's almost 2. I may not make it through another story.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
Just to be clear, this is not NaDruWriNi, and I did not plan this, but I am drinking and I do feel like doing some writing, just not on my novel.

I have had three rum & ginger beer, one gin & tonic, and one glass of red wine. I suspect I am going to regret all my life choices in the morning.

So! Writing! I went back to last year's writing prompt here and I decided to use [livejournal.com profile] 50_ft_queenie's prompt.

What superpower would you most like to have?

cut for story )

Starting another glass of wine. What shall I do next?
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
About 500 words so far. Got my gin, but no naked man. Will have to suffice.

Almost didnèt get any tonic either. I think Axel is trying to get me drunk. (I may regret this tomorrow.)

So I did do a _little_ writing while on vacation, but none of it was on my main project. Instead I got sidetracked into putting 5000 words into a short story because that was what was floating my museès boat at the time. I finished it but now I hate it. Or more accurately, I donèt like it because it doesnèt measure up to the version in my head. I figure Ièll get back to it later and do some polishing.

(BC has a great quote somewhere about creative standards and not being able to measure up in our own work and I just wasted 10 minutes looking for it but I canèt find it. Maybe Ièll remember to ask her to repost when she gets back from WisCon)

ANYWAY.

My writing appears to follow the _bright shiny object_ system, where I am always inspired, but never by the same thing consistently for more than about three weeks in a row. This is going to seriously impact the time it takes me to get anything finished. On the plus side, it does seem to fend of writerès block. The trick, of course, is to write often enough that I eventually circle around to the original project. Historically this has been the source of my failure.

How does one go about writing a screenplayÉ Because boy howdie, do I have an idea for _that_.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
Vacation was brilliant just hanging around the house and chilling. But way too short. Didnè(1) write as much as I wanted to. Didnèt do as much of anything as I wanted to really, because it was stupid hot all week. The current iteration of hot flashes are _awful_ much worse than the last couple of rounds. Like standing in front of a blast furnace once an hour. This summer is going to _suck_.

I discovered I donèt drink nearly as much when Ièm not at work. Something about getting enough sleep and not hating my life reduced the urge to kill a bottle of wine as soon as I get home. Whodathunk.

Having said that, I am settling into a couple of hours of itès-not-NaDruWriNi-but-Ièm-going-to-pretend-for-a-couple-of-hours-just-because-I-can. Ièm already a couple of glasses in.

Now to convince Axel to get naked and bring me gin.

(1)I occasionally hit the French keyboard hotkey and I have no freaking idea how to turn it off. Various pages on the Interwebs say alt-shift (doesnèt work) or cntl-shift (doesnèt work) or change it to US English in the control panel (already selected). So I have given up and Ièm just going to have to deal with the typos.
the_siobhan: (NaDruWriNi)
I had a bunch more beers (I have lost count how many) and some maple syrup liqueur. I might be a little bit drunk. I have to close one eye to see hte screen, and that's usually a bad sign.

So


------------------------




There was a time in my life when I was not a reputable silverback who worked in a bank and shook my cane at da yout' in my spare time. There was a time when I did not have a job or an education or a steady income. None of the people I hung out with did either.

It's hard to explain to people what it's liek to live in that kind of environment. The thing that I remember from those days is how small and limiting he world was. So fer example there might be a government office downtown that will help you get access to housing but even if you knew about it and had the money to invest in traveling to it and don't get eh wrong location, there is no guarantee it's going to be open when you get there. And by "hearing about it" I mean prettty much word of mouth. I could figure out how to find stuff in the public phone booth phone books (that used a completely obscure sorting system and had half their pages ripped out to boot) but that didn't necessarily buy me any more credibility, because the information was so often obsolete. Now imagine that contact information has all moved online - where there is no control over how old information might be even if you can access it - and it gets even harder. I hear people at work saying that if people didn't want to live on the street they would just do X, Y or Z. They genuinely have no idea what it might be like not to know that X or Z exists and that Y is a thing that costs money to get at. It's depressing as hell.

I blame that for my brief stint as a criminal. Most of the time it wasn't that I didn't think that what I was doing was wrong, it was that I didn't see any other options if I wanted to eat. It was beg, steal or starve. Nobody was knocking on my door with alternatives.

Anyway.

So the point of all this is to tell you about this one time. The ex - who I have always referred to as The Wife Beater (TWB) used to work day jobs, meaning he would show up at temp offices who would tell him if they had work that day. If he got work he would eat. Sometimes that even included me.

This one time he was feeling lavish because he called me and I met up with him and his friends at a pub. There was a period when I first arrived when I couldn't find him adn I serously thought about leaving, because being out in public alone was something that usually led to accusations about what I had been up to in his absence. I got lucky that time though, by the tiem he joined us he was so full of news he forgot to be worried about what I had been doing in the meantime.

Turns out he had been speaking to some guy at the bar who was actually either drunk enough or who suffered frm poor enough judgment to offer him a "job". I don't even remember tge details of what I was told. All I know is that it had to happen that night because the victim was out of town and less than an hour later, me, TWF adn Mike (TWB's beswt friend) were jimmying our way through some poor bastards back door.

We were terrible. TWB couldn'tg et the door open so Mike picked up an old paint pot and used it to smash out the window. TWB led us into the basement, told us that was where we wer supposed to be looing for the papers, then a short time later announced that there was nothing to find there and disappeared.

I looked at Mike and shrugged and continued going through more of the crap on the tables. We were in a big square space with a bunch of desk with lab equpment and paper spread around.

The thing about having a jealous partner is yhou always want to know what's going on aroudn you in case you have to explain yourself later. So every once in a while I would look up and scanned the room around me to see what Mike was doing.

I didnt' see him anywhere.

Thing is, I knew he couldn't' leave without passing me. It was s square box-like room. Where the fuck di\d he go?

The weirdness of it actually made me drop what I was doing and go looking for him. I felt really stupid, I was essentially walking around am open square looking under tables. only when I got to one of the tbles I realized that there was a hole in the ground, dug into the basement floor through the concrete in teh shadows. I felt really stupid becaue it was so obfious yet in a dark basemtn it ascutally wasn't obvvious at all.

There was a little bit of light when I stuck my head through teh hole so I called out and I heard Mike anser me. He assured me it was safe so dropped down through the hole and found myself in another room, about the same size and shape. In teh dim light it looked completey bare except for a glass wall on one side. I spotted Mike immeditely standign adn staring into the glas.

i walked up bside him adn stared ino the daken glass. Whjat's in there? i asked.

Mike didn't anwer but he stepped back just as something ping and fleshy based again teh blass, sending echoes reverbing tough the room aroudn me. I winced at the sudden noise nad stepped back. It vanished into the murk as suddenly as it appearedd.

"What the fuck?"

I stood starinf for a while but nothing else happened. Miek moved away and started walking around teh room. He stopped at the opposite end of the room and stopped, then called me over.I followed him and quickly realized whaqt he was pointing at, hanging from teh wall and hidden the dim light where shackles for wrist adn aankels and soemting that looked like a metal cap, xomplete with clamps to hold it in place.

"That is seriously fucked up. Think he hides women down here?" said Mike.

I opned my mouth to say something and I got completely distracted. Someting smacked against the glass behind us, and when I spun around to see where the noise was coming from I saw a face. A very human face, white and round, the full lips mouthing a message to us, with the long black eel-like body trailing away int the water behind it. I opened my mouth to say somethign but my words were drowned out by the sound of TWB just above us yelling that there was somebody coming and then Mike grabbing me and boosting em out towards the hole in the ceiling.

As it turned out the guy who lived there came home early and we ran out through seperate exits, splitting up and scrambling like rats. I took the chance of dashing across a lit street to get to the cemetary across teh road, once inside the unlit grounds I just sat and listedned and chilled whike tghe oolice sirens trailed off into the distance.

Agterwards I tried to alk about what I had seen buyt people who hadn't been there din't believe me. And the people who had been there - well let's just say that a guy who didn't like hearing tha tI had spent time in a om with p;eople who werne't hear didn't like having he subjec bought up.

I still wonder what happend to the peson I had seen in that place. And tif there were any more like him

OK now i'm really drijnk and i hav eno idea what i'm tying. bed. night. thingy


------------------------


[EDIT: For some reason I had this entry locked. I have no idea what the hell I was trying to say at the end there, but anyway this was another one from [livejournal.com profile] cincinnatus_c_What's he building in there?

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