| but all her looks were too sad
||[Jul. 28th, 2011|02:19 am]
B: Why don't you go get a bottle of Jameson?
Me: Nah, let's wait til next month. Already tanked two bottles this month between us.
B: I know, but I know you're freaking out today. Thought it would help you.
Me: I know that's why you offered. You're the best!
B: It's true.
(on the phone)
Me: I will send you chapbooks!
Tara: Are they signed?
Tara: ... personalized?
Me: Uh, no. I mean, I didn't know who'd end up with them, so, uh... I just... um...
Tara: (A very stern, disapproving--) Hmmm.
Me: Are you about to demand that I write something in yours?
Me: Okay. I will.
Tara: You better, dammit!
Hey, you can pre-order my book now, if you feel so inclined. Here's the link. Won't cost anything until they're actually ready to ship next month, so yay. And stuff. I'll give you a free chapbook if you do. Here's the link to tell you how to get it.
Oddly enough I've only got like 11 chapbooks left. I did give away a few there at the start as thank yous but... weird. Well, I reckon most people who were excited to pre-order got it done right away and stuff. Plus I reserved a few for people who wouldn't be around for the pre-order day like Cory and Cate and all that.
But still. Wonder if I really will need to break into the con reserve? Not that I'd complain if I did!
One step closer to real, innit?
||[Oct. 18th, 2010|07:52 pm]
Me: Why did that Lee Jeans ad show Mike Rowe's ass? I didn't need that. He's Mike Rowe!
Balaji: ... it wasn't for you. (shifty eyes)
| she doesn't know that I left my urge in the icebox
||[Aug. 16th, 2010|04:57 pm]
I woke up with a monstrous fucking headache, and it grew and grew. It is now not only monstrous, but godlike. It's like the Leto Fucking Atreides God-Worm of all Headaches.
Ouch, I mean to say. This fucking weather this summer has been a real motherfucker, you know?
Anyhow, I shouldn't complain. Yesterday I was still pretty braindead, so I did RPP formatting type stuff and a blog entry. Today I woke up, did some good hard re-read of Megh's final drafts for her stories (shiny!), and continued with Elan and Nieva. I'm up to 4251 words, Elan has just promised Nieva that busting out of a brothel will be easy with him by her side (poor sap--good thing she's there to save him), and my head is throbbing so badly that even Hot Chip can't make me finish. Son of a bitch.
I really need to jump into the 10 submissions competition. If I can get Elan and Nieva sorted and edit Peacock by tomorrow I'm in pretty good shape still. Wonder which one I'll try to write next. I wish I could tell ahead of time, but then I'd hate to start thinking about it just yet. One thing at a time for my poor confused brain.
We were supposed to go out to dinner tonight, too, and I always get so disappointed when I think I'm going to do something fun and then get owned like this. But Balaji has promised me sambar rice and I have a whole bottle of Jack Daniels, so whatever.
Small workout first though, as my hip has really been a dickhead about things for the past few days. (I did fuck it up in Phila. again, I'm forced to admit. Fuck.) But here's hoping it'll get me closer to the usual 45 minutes today than it did yesterday.
There's the cranky update. But it is what it is.
In ridiculous news, we were watching the MST3K "Jack Frost" last night, and it is my new favorite movie, so thanks again John! It's like Cinderella meets Baba Yaga on crack. There is even scope for a Tom Bombadil joke in it. I mean wow.
Jack Frost: You're a good girl, aren't you? Not the contradicting kind at all.
Balaji: [Gives me an evil look, waiting for the explosion to occur.]
Me: [Grits teeth]
(15 minutes later when I have a mouth full of water)
Balaji: I do wish you weren't quite so contradicting though, Kate.
His timing is of the evil.