Bride of Rain Dogs

Friday night not-a-poll

Fri, 24 May 2013 23:21:52 GMT

I want to have a reading at Readercon, but I'm not sure what to read. My best three options are Dreams (out on submission), The Poison Court (completely a rough draft in progress, but I could polish up a scene), or "Snakebit", the sappy vampire story that I recently finished and need to edit. Any thoughts? Your opinions have added weight if you'll be attending Readercon.

I can stare for a thousand years

Fri, 24 May 2013 03:57:25 GMT

Remember when I posted metrics here? I'm not sure I do either.

The Poison Court
Words today: 528
Words total: 15,832
Reason for stopping: Out of steam, and need to move furniture around before I go to bed.
Darling: Yes, but it's a bit long.
Tyop: n/a
Mean things: A letter from your ex, unsettling surprises

I'm at that awkward stage of plotting where I need to figure out who's scheming about what, and who knows about it, and how much of what Our Heroes are being told is the truth. And I'm starting to worry that it's taking too long to get some of our antags onscreen. But that's a second draft problem.

Despite an oppressive case of mope that lasted several days, this week has been pretty damn good. I climbed like a badass on Monday, deadlifted my own bodyweight* on Tuesday, danced on Wednesday**, and today not only did I make progress on a steeply overhung V2, but I also got a real massage, which has turned my neck into something other than a twisted column of hate. And, even better, when I went in for a PT session this morning, my therapist was so pleased with my progress and with my interval running strategy that he turned me loose. So I am running again. For five minute intervals and no more than 1.8 miles at a stretch yet, but sweet fishes is that better than not running at all.

* My current, still swollen with Portland evil, bodyweight, even. This means when I shed the bloat, I'll be lifting more than bodyweight. Assuming I don't put on more muscle by then.

** Walking from my car to the club, I lost the sole to one of my boots. Faced with the option of either sitting down on the sidewalk and sobbing or ripping off the other sole and dancing anyway, I chose the latter. It wasn't even the least comfortable footwear I've danced in.

Had I but known, Tam Lin...

Tue, 21 May 2013 03:29:02 GMT

I have been moody and weepy and nearly anhedonic the past couple of days--stress and double-hormone PMS* are a winning combination--but tonight I went to the gym and sent a 5.10B and not one but two 5.10Ds. One of these was awfully easy, and I question the rating, but the other was harder, so hopefully at least one is legit. So I may have no joy in my life, but I am still a badass. Someday that might make me dangerous.

* My doctor wanted me to finish the round of pills I was in the middle of when I got my interuterine demon**. Saturday was my last dose of estrogen-based birth control. Now we'll see what the progesterone does.

** I really want to write a story about interuterine demons. I would also be happy to read other people's.

And now for shameless over-sharing...

Wed, 08 May 2013 21:17:48 GMT

I am now the mostly proud and mildly uncomfortable bearer of an IUD. A Mirena*, to be precise. The insertion was only slightly more unpleasant than a regular pap smear, and nowhere near the ordeal I've heard others tell of. I gasped once when the pressure became uncomfortable, and then it was over a minute later. The whole thing took about five minutes, including the pap. (That was after I had to wait for the ultrasound results**, though, and after my left ovary trolled everyone by being impossible to locate. That took longer.)

The only negative side effect is the cramps, which even my uterus isn't superhuman enough to shrug off. I suspect these are the cramps most women encounter monthly, but I haven't cramped since I first started the pill at 17, so I find the sudden discomfort and mild nausea rather disconcerting. Hopefully it will be gone soon--I'm willing to skip climbing tonight, but I don't want to skip the Duran Duran tribute at Elysium.

ETA: And three hours later, the cramps appear to have subsided. I shall move forward with dancing as planned.

* If one can bear a Mirena, can one also become a Mirena-wraith?

** My uterus is not full of bees. This is a little disappointing.

Con-going and bookkeeping

Tue, 07 May 2013 02:25:47 GMT

I have survived the Lovecraft Film Festival, where I had a delightful time, even though Portland insisted on being unseasonably warm and sunny all weekend. I hung out with lovely people everywhere, saw fun movies--the Cabal Cut of Nightbreed was worth the price of plane fare, even if they haven't found the footage of Peloquin's sex scene yet--went dancing, and ate way too much bar food. Okay, the bar food wasn't actually fun or lovely, but hopefully I'll stop doing my best Prince of Darkness swollen-with-evil impression by the end of the week.

I have not been keeping good track of books this year, so the order of these is slightly dubious.

1. Alabaster: Wolves - Caitlin R. Kiernan
2. Song For the Basilisk - Patricia McKilip
3. The Changeling Sea - Patricia McKilip

I'm not sure why it took me so long to read this book, since I sought out so many other books in high school based solely on their lovely Whelan covers. This is a jewel of a book, perfect in my heart, and while I'm sure I would have loved it 17 years ago, I love it just as well or better now.

4. Steles of the Sky - Elizabeth Bear (in draft)
5. The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison (ARC)
6. The Paris Affair - Teresa Grant
7. The Forgotten Beasts of Eld - Patricia McKilip

Poetry month

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 03:18:07 GMT

More Octavio Paz. Only a snippet this time, from "Sunstone" (Piedra de Sol)...

there is nothing inside me but a large wound,
a hollow place where no one goes,
a windowless present, a thought that returns
and repeats itself, reflects itself,
and loses itself in its own transparency,
a mind transfixed by an eye that watches
it watching itself till it drowns itself
in clarity:

I saw your horrid scales,
Melusina, shining green in the dawn,
you slept twisting between the sheets,
you woke shrieking like a bird,
and you fell and fell, till white and broken,
nothing remained of you but your scream,
and I find myself at the end of time
with bad eyes and a cough, rummaging through
the old photos:

there's no one, you're no one,
a heap of ashes and a worn-out broom,
a rusted knife and a feather duster,
a pelt that hangs from a pack of bones,
a withered branch, a black hole,
and there at the bottom the eyes of a girl
drowned a thousand years ago,

State of the valkyrie

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 21:59:32 GMT

(Not actually an exercise post.)

I am not dead, despite my poor showing on LiveJournal. 2013 has been a hell of year so far, emotionally. January (and December before it) were fraught, February and March were delightful--so much so, in fact, that they nearly culminated with my passing out from exhaustion at SXSW, as previously recounted. April decided to live up to Eliot after all, and became an emotional roller coaster that left me in a ditch. Lacking any forgetful snow, I can only hope that summer surprises me.

On the upside, I've spent the past three months seeing more concerts than I had previously imagined possible. My brain may have swollen under the constant application of new music--SXSW, Convergence, Austin Psych Fest, and a host of other shows. Last week was Peter Murphy (doing an all Bauhaus set). Tomorrow is The Joy Formidable and Io Echo. I've danced more than ever, and I already dance more than nearly anyone I know.

On Thursday morning I leave for Portland, and the H.P. Lovecraft Film Fest & CthulhuCon, where I will be reading, participating in a panel, and melting into a gibbering puddle of glee at the director's cut of Nightbreed. If you happen to sit next to me in the theatre, I apologize in advance for deliquescing on your shoes.

When I get back from Portland I'm going to lock myself in alternately my room and my favorite coffee shop and write a damned book.

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 02:52:56 GMT

Tonight I completed my lead climbing class at the gym, and am now lead certified. We'll see how well or quickly this translates to not being too petrified to lead outside. But it's definitely another step toward valkyriedom.

I'm no closer to a pull-up than I was a month ago, but my deadlift is up to 130 lbs. I will be deeply satisfied when I can lift my own weight.

Still life: A girl and her allergies

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 20:54:44 GMT

Through the good offices of Katie Cowden, I once again have new photos. Some of them shall become author photos. Does anyone have opinions on which one I should send to the nice people at HPLFF?

Recorded for posterity, and nightmare fuel

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 22:04:37 GMT

stillsostrange: I get to have a pelvic ultrasound.
matociquala: Eeee. Why?
stillsostrange: My ob/gyn likes to make sure one's uterus is not oddly shaped, oddly sized, or full of bees before she does IUDs.
matociquala: I suppose that makes sense. If it's bees... Awesome?
stillsostrange: Better bees than daddy long-legs*.
matociquala: That's a Cure song.

* Last time I went climbing outside, one of my friends disturbed a daddy long-legs nest while looking for a toehold. They came boiling out of the rock, down the cliff, and tried to swarm our bags. At least it was a toehold and not a handhold...

Come here I think you're beautiful, my door is open wide

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 04:06:22 GMT

Floodland (O book, what is your real title?)

Words today: ~900
Words total: 2500
Reason for stopping: a nice number
Darling: Some days Simon found her youth charming, and others exhausting. Today, he suspected, watching her drop weightlessly into a chair and fling one slender leg across the arm, would be one of the latter.

I sketched out some broader strokes of worldbuilding, though not nearly enough. I will be plagued with bracket notes for some time yet. At least I have the three main characters' names--mostly--and I know who one of the antags is, if not why.

Breeding metrics out of the dead land

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 21:26:11 GMT

Floodland, which is not its title at all, but the only working title I have

Words today: 1200
Words total: 1200
Reason for stopping: time to figure out what's going on
Darling: If Lucia could have slept on trains, she might have died peacefully.
Tyop: n/a

I have a ton of worldbuilding to do before I can even figure out my plot, but at least my MC is being talkative. She is everything I could want in an MC: worn down, damaged, ruthless, cynically hopeful, observant, and fashion-conscious.

Now I need that worldbuilding, so I can have dirigible battles and shadow monsters.

The cruelest month

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 21:51:06 GMT

April may be not quite as cruel as I first feared. We shall see. But in the meantime, have some poetry.

"Spaces" - Octavio Paz

Space
No center, no above, no below
Ceaselessly devouring and engendering itself
Whirlpool space
And drop into height
Spaces
Clarities steeply cut
Suspended
By the night's flank
Black gardens of rock crystal
Flowering on a rod of smoke
White gardens exploding in the air
Space
One space opening up
Corolla
And dissolving
Space in space
All is nowhere
Place of impalpable nuptials

When you go, you go alone and I'm gone

Sun, 31 Mar 2013 05:02:29 GMT

LiveJournal updates remain thin on the ground, but I have not died. I had a lovely visit to Massachusetts last week to run around (literally) with matociquala and dance with readingthedark and meet other delightful people. And then I brought matociquala back to Austin with me, where we danced and hiked and signed books and danced some more.

After some delays on the insurance end, our old car was finally declared totaled (and hopefully given a Viking funeral). Today we brought home a new Honda, which with any luck will live a long and full life like my first Honda, not die a tragic and self-sacrificing death like the last one.

In addition to great busyness and some brain-eating personal stuff going on, I've been unposty because of a lack of novel progress and frustration therewith. But--cross your appendages--I may have had An Idea tonight. It's actually an old idea (spies in fabulous hats), but I'm starting to figure out what makes it tick. If I can get a surge of worldbuilding built next week, I should have a solid foundation. I hope.

I see the choosers of the fallen

Mon, 18 Mar 2013 14:05:46 GMT

Saturday was Warrior Dash, which I attended despite the last month of knee problems and my banged up arm. Compared to Run For Your Lives, it was both harder and easier. The WD trail was full of nasty hills, and of course December in Texas is a better time to run than March. But without the ever-present threat of zombies, you didn't have to run. And mostly I didn't after the first stretch. The WD obstacles were a bit more challenging, though I was disappointed we didn't get some of the cooler ones they show in promo photos.*

We did get tire grids and wet balance beams and over-unders with barbed wire and rope tunnels and chain ladders and several walls to climb over, including a wall with a knotted rope** and trenches that could be vaulted or climbed out of and fire pits to jump. So perhaps I need to shut up and be happy with my obstacles.

The final obstacle was a mud trench through which we had to swim. Reader, I have never been so filthy in my life. My bathroom has never been so filthy. Now I know what hippos feel like, except they don't have to sit in a car for an hour still caked in mud afterward.

After the race I think I can safely call myself a badass. After the race is also when I became a badass who makes poor decisions. You see, as soon as I got home I had to jump in the shower (see aforementioned filthy bathroom) and get ready to go to a SXSW show. I ate a small something immediately post race, and another small something when I got home, and drank some nasty Sports Beverage. This put me at around 1200 calories for the day.

Reader, 1200 calories is not enough after an obstacle course. Especially not when one plans to go stand/dance at a concert for seven hours. I was feeling pretty okay when I left to meet my friends for the show, better than I had after Run For Your Lives. I attributed this to not being soaked to the bone and chilled as I had been then. I met my friends, we went to the venue. The parking gods smiled upon us in a way that usually requires a bloody sacrifice. There was hardly any line and doors were to open in 30 minutes. All seemed well.

After twenty minutes standing in line in the sun, my vision went staticky, and the surf noise of an incipient grey out began drown out nearby conversations. I felt nauseous. I thought very clearly that I needed to sit down, but I couldn't actually do so. Then the world went away for a few seconds. It came back to find my concerned and startled companions holding me upright. I finally managed to sit down in a strip of shade. A friend got me water and carbs***. The venue opened (only half an hour late) and they poured ginger beer down me. Blood sugar being restored, I proceeded to dance through most of the night. (I sat out much of the Xeno & Oaklander set because my feet hurt too damn much, but there was no way I wasn't dancing through The Soft Moon's.)

So, crisis averted, right? But through all of 2013 I've been running on a sleep deficit, and wondering when I would hit the wall. Well, dear reader, I hit that wall on Sunday. I got four hours of sleep and shambled home to get ready for an evening shift at work. By noon I was too nauseous for lunch, so I took a quick nap instead. I felt a little better after that, and ate some toast. I went to work. I spent the next four hours being dizzy and nauseous and sitting down frequently. A coworker gave me her lunch so I wouldn't have to leave the store and I napped again on my lunch break. It didn't help. I was still dizzy when I got up. At this point multiple coworkers began telling me to go home. Which I eventually did.

Now I've had ten hours of sleep and am camped in bed with the laptop. My back is sore, as are my poor sunburned legs, but otherwise I think I'm alive again.

I would really like to declare Project Valkyrie a success, but I still can't do a pull-up.

* I'm still not sure about Spartan Race or Tough Mudder, but if I'm going to complain about lack of obstacles, I may have to try one of them. Next year.

** The rope wall was the one obstacle that multiple people ahead of me failed. I did not. I did, however, very nearly climb back down to kick the ass of the spectator who expressed surprise when I aced it. No mead horn for you, asshole.

*** My own poor decision making is not one of the reasons I keep nurses around as climbing and dancing partners, but maybe it ought to be.

LiveJournal becomes the last to know

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 22:33:00 GMT

So, last night Steven and I went to a deathrock night in San Antonio. We had a fabulous time. We also ended up leaving just as storm was blowing down from Austin. We hit about fifteen minutes of bad hail, which we spent sheltered under a gas station awning. Hail passed, and we went on. I eventually fell asleep in the passenger seat, as is my wont at 2:00 am.

I woke up to the sensation of the tires losing contact with the road. Steven cursing. The car spinning. My eyes never opened for this. I doubt it lasted more than a few heartbeats. Next came an impact. I shouted at this point--whether it was articulate or not I'm not sure. What I was thinking was mostly What the fuck?! Immediately after the first impact came a second. This one hurt. I yelled something again. A short time of confusion and annoyance followed, and then the car finally stopped moving and my eyes opened to rain and a wet divider and the remains of the passenger side airbag and the headlights of oncoming traffic. Luckily we had spun into a wide grassy median ditch, safely out of the way of any other cars. My right arm hurt like hell. ETA: I forgot a telling detail: the burning chemical smell of airbag propellant.

We sat there for a short span of time. Steven asked if I was okay; I said my arm hurt. At this point I thought to test the arm, and determined that it wasn't broken. I suspect I'd had a leg propped on the dashboard, so I was extra lucky that wasn't broken either. Northbound traffic kept moving.

Steven tried moving the car, but it was firmly wedged in the ditch. At this point I called our babysitter with what was probably a shocky warning that we would be late. This was, thanks to DST, at 3:30 am. After that... Reader, I updated Facebook. Yeah. Sorry. But then I thought to call roadside assistance! Steven talked to roadside assistance, and they eventually transferred him to 911. Several minutes and many cars has passed at this point, and finally one person stopped to ask if we were all right. By then sirens were inbound.

Cops and a fire truck showed up to determine that we were neither dead nor drunk nor on fire. I hadn't moved from the passenger seat at all, being a bit shocky, in pain, wedged in a ditch, and having foolishly decided that I didn't need my jacket that night. I got to sign waivers declining a trip to the hospital. The cops seemed a bit bemused by my torn fishnet and shiny glam goth pants. Eventually I crawled out of the car, and some nice officers put us in the back of their cruiser. They took us to the nearest sheltered spot, asked more questions, consulted about tow trucks. It was now 4:00 am and we were on the southernmost edge of Austin, so I decided not to wake up any of my friends. The cops called us a cab. The cab dispatcher said something that translated to "It's 4:00 am on the first Saturday of SXSW. Good fucking luck." And because of those conditions, the cops were getting a lot of calls at this point. So eventually they dropped us off at the nearest 24-hour fast food place and left us waiting for the cab.

We sat there drinking bad coffee listening to the absolute worst canned music selection ever for another hour. The cab was not coming. Steven called them again. Finally I broke down and called my parents, because someone had to relieve our poor babysitter. My parents returned the babysitter and stayed with the kids. At some point I finally checked a mirror and determined that my arm was friction-burned as well as bruised, and that my artfully torn fishnet top now had authentic battle damage.

6:00 am came. The cab did not. So finally my parents came to retrieve us. My father returned us to our house at 7:30 am. I wandered around in a daze, taking pictures of the fishnet pattern burned into my arm. I finally went to bed around 8:00, very gingerly.

Four hours later I got up to go with Steven to check on the car. It had been towed--to where, we're not entirely certain. Hopefully this will be sorted out quickly. Right now I'm upright only by the power of caffeine, and the fact that it hurts like hell to lie down. I did make one sensible attempt to go to an urgent care clinic, but the one that was open was out of network, so I'll call my doctor tomorrow. I did not go to work today.

I am very lucky, not only to not be hurt and to have not injured anyone else, but to have had people to call, people asking if I was okay, and people to email at 4:30 in the morning from the back of a police car.

Every time a Bauhaus song plays, a goth gets her wings

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 04:30:02 GMT

Untitled, a photo by Amanda Downum on Flickr.

My costume for the Sherwood Forest faire very nearly didn't happen, as it was so damn windy in the parking lot that I couldn't attach my wings. Luckily, inside the walled and treed fairground, we made this happen. I also acquired a new spiderweb lace cloak .

I wandered around, drank a lot of mead, climbed trees, and had strangers take my picture. And now I have a photo to submit to Goths Up Trees. A rousing success, I think.

Let's draw a little blood, start a little fire...

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 05:01:40 GMT

It's a Friday night and I'm at home with LiveJournal, prepping a last minute ren faire costume to wear tomorrow. Assuming I can attach the wings to my corset the way I think I can, it will be one of the best last minute costumes I've ever thrown together. Which considering the tragedy that was my griffin wings, might not be saying much...

And to be contrary, I have to say that my February was fan-fucking-tastic, and I can only hope March follows its example. Of course, I'm going to visit matociquala this month and see Emmylou Harris, and then bring the Bear back to Austin with me, where we will sign books, break hearts, drink cocktails, and dance till they kick us out of clubs. So I suspect March will do just fine.

I suppose I could go back to that survey while my nail polish dries.

60. Do you believe in god and if so what is he/she/it like?

I'm agnostic, but I don't believe in gods that fit easily into human comprehension.

61. Do you believe in Hell?

Hell is other people. And the absence of god. By which I mostly mean the absence of wonder.

62. What one thing have you done that most people haven't?

I doubt I've done anything that most people haven't. Besides write the books I've written.

63. What is the kindest thing you have ever done?

I have no idea.

64. Are you a patient person?

Not when my nail polish is drying.

65. What holiday should exist but doesn't?

If you celebrate it, it will exist.

66. What holiday shouldn't exist but does?

I'm not going to take away anyone's fun.

67. What's the best joke you ever heard?

Jesus Christ walks into a bar. He hands the bartender three nails...

68. Where is the most fun place you have EVER been?

I'm not a fan of best and most and ever. I had a hell of a good time in Stockholm with matociquala, though, and also at Hueco Tanks Park with the Partners in Climb. And Hawaii with the spouse.

69. Is your hair natural or dyed?

Both.

And it will take you the way you never know

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 16:41:33 GMT

Today I started physical therapy for my treacherous left knee. The therapist thinks the trouble is less quads and more IT band. My future has become endless weighted stretches. But he didn't tell me to cancel Warrior Dash, so that's something. (I get the feeling that physical therapists are used to people doing stupid shit against medical advice.)

I suppose I should get back to the endless survey questions eventually, but today I'm going to dust off the first line meme (short story edition only) in celebration of finishing "Snakebit."

For those of you new to this meme, we post the first lines of various unfinished projects in hope of finding inspiration.

"Flood"

Nan doesn't mean to fall asleep--she never does. But Evie's soft breath and the steady creak of the ceiling fan lull her, till her eyes sag and the worn paperback slides from her fingers.

"Salt"

The sea left footprints.

"Serpentskirt"

All Souls Night and the gutters still brim with shed Hallows skin. Broken glass crunches under Jane's boots as she carries an amp to the van, glittering beside limp feathers and cracked sequins, tattered black and orange fliers. One hell of a party, she heard--Sixth Street is still subdued and sleepy. But even for the day after Halloween and a Monday to boot, the crowd is still better than last night's in Dallas.

"Spore"

"I got it from my girlfriend," the boy says. "Ex-girlfriend." Color rises in his light brown cheeks. "Wow, that makes it sound bad. Simpler too, I guess."

"Waiting For the Train"

When it's raining here you hear the trains. You hear them other times too, with the tracks so close, but the dusty heat of summer bakes the sound out of the air, till it gets buried under cars and trucks and TVs and voices and all the other small-town noises. But when the rain comes, and the trains come, the whistles carry all over, low and mournful and rumbling in my chest.

Eternally untitled queen in the tower story

She watches from her tower as the sky burns.

Ash rains from scabbed clouds, drifts in grey-silver sheets toward the broken ground. Razored black rock cracks again, leaking flames and the hot blood of the earth. Heat seeps through her windows, shimmering against etched glass, and no matter how much incense she burns her room still reeks of the end of the world.

--30--

Tue, 19 Feb 2013 19:11:14 GMT

"Snakebit"

Words today: 532
Words total: 6680
Reason for stopping: THE END
Darling: THE END

It is a draft with many drafty problems, but I have finished a short story! It's been a year and a half since this happened, and I was starting to disbelieve in the possibility.

Now it's time to dig through the more folders and see if there's anything else that wants to be finished.

At home with a meme on a Friday night

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 04:31:18 GMT

A somewhat productive week. I made progress on "Snakebit," which has been languishing unfinished for a year since the last time I made progress on it, and even longer before that. When it's finished I need to turn my attention to either "Flood" or "Waiting For The Train," since novels love me not. I also need to find a market for the ghoul-smut sestina, which has been lying around for far too long.

I also have a referral for physical therapy now. We'll see what that does for my knee. Sadly, I think it's too late to hope for the half marathon in March. But I already have my Warrior Dash registration, by god, and dash it I shall.

And now, on to the inanity of the survey.

50. Have you ever saved someone's life or had your life saved?

In the intricate web of causality way, probably. In a dramatic direct intervention way, no.

51. Make up a definition for the following silly words...

No. I am too much on my dignity today, meme.

52. What was the last thing you made with your own hands?

I assume we're not counting books, no matter how they make my wrists hurt. I haven't made jewelry in a long time, sadly. I helped assemble the Gothtopus, and made the (tragically underfeathered) wings for my griffin costume. Or perhaps the cookies I baked to bribe a coworker.

53. What was your favorite toy as a child?

I can't remember a single favorite, but it was probably something She-Ra related.

54. How many TV’s are in your house?

Two.

55. What is your favorite thing to do outside?

Climbing, followed closely by hiking and swimming.

56. How do you feel when you see a rainbow?

Grateful that we've had any rain.

57. Have you ever dreamt a dream that came true?

In a symbolic sense, yes. And a few that were just that boring.

58. Have you ever been to a psychic/tarot reader?

I had a tarot reading on New Year's Day. It gave me good advice.

59. What is your idea of paradise?

A dancefloor.

I wanna keep the pain real close cause it's the pain we chose

Tue, 12 Feb 2013 04:46:23 GMT

I missed last week's valkyrie report, so have a week and a half's worth.

Thursday - Gym. ~3 miles elliptical.
Friday - 4 hours dayjob.
Saturday - Dancing. And a lot of walking back and forth between clubs.
Sunday - Dayjob, dancing.
Monday - Yoga, climbing. Crow pose! A whole two seconds of it.
Tuesday - 1 hour gym. A very good day. More weight added to my deadlift, and more taken away from my pull-up assist. 4 hours dayjob.
Wednesday - Run/walking, 5k. Sadly, despite all the foam rolling and stretching, my knee still locked up at 1.5 miles.
Thursday - Rest day due to fresh tattoo. 4 hours dayjob.
Friday - 4 hours dayjob.
Saturday - ~45 minutes at the gym. Pull ups, push ups, and 1.5 miles on the elliptical. Dancing, dancing, dancing.
Sunday - Dayjob. No dancing. I am a badass, but not that much of a badass.
Monday - Yoga, climbing. Three seconds of Crow!

92 miles out of Hobbiton.

I have new shoes, and will probably make another go at running on Wednesday despite of common sense. But I have also taken the wise advice of a friend and made an appointment to get a referral to a sports medicine clinic to have someone look at my leg. I realized this weekend that the prospect of not running anymore makes me angry, and I want to do something about it.

Perhaps tomorrow I'll get back to the inane survey.

A very tentacular day

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 15:04:25 GMT

Octavia, a photo by Amanda Downum on Flickr.

Yesterday I sat through the latest coloring session for Octavia. I love her so much. I would kiss her, but that would currently be painful and unhygienic.

And then this morning I woke to my official invitation to the 2013 H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival in Portland. I have been longing to go for years, and now I will be a panelist and everything! So if you're attending the festival, or will be in the Portland area from May 3 - 5, let me know.

The inanity continues

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 23:36:50 GMT

40. Have you ever been a girl scout/boy scout?

I was a Brownie in second grade. Our troop dissolved do to lack of members, which is probably for the best. Even at 6 years old I found flag folding to be a ridiculous activity.

41. If you were traveling to another continent would you rather fly or take a boat?

I have flown to other continents a few times, and I like flying, but I wouldn't mind taking a cruise ship.

42. Why is the sky blue during the day and black at night?

Light scatter.

43. What does your name mean?

Amanda means "loveable", or "beloved." Elizabeth means "consecrated to God." I believe Downum involves hills and fortresses.

44. Would you rather explore the deeps of the ocean or outer space?

Outer space. I still want to be an astronaut. And outer space has the sexiest monsters.

45. ~~Word association.~~

46. If you could meet any person in the world who is dead who would you want it to be?

Is vampirism an option, here? Because I'm on board for that.

47. What if you could meet anyone who is alive?

I meet a lot of living people every day. Some of them are even pretty interesting.

48. Is there a movie that you love so much you could watch it everyday?

No.

49. You are going to be stuck alone in an elevator for a week. What do you bring to do?

Since I doubt I get to install plumbing in the elevator, there is nothing that would make that scenario bearable.

Only the forever and forever and forever of the meme

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 18:25:37 GMT

31. What 3 things do you want to do before you die?

Only three? That's not much of a challenge. In the fairly immediate future I would like to do unassisted pullups, Warrior Dash, finish (and sell) more novels, and travel more, most especially to Wave Gotik Treffen. Climbing in more states and/or countries would also be nice.

32. What three things would you want to die to avoid doing?

I don't think I'm likely to go on a killing spree anytime soon, but if I do, it will be because I didn't want to die to avoid it. And as long as I'm not inflicting terrible harm on others, I'm not much of a believer in fates worse than death.

33. Is there a cause you believe in more than any other cause?

Being a decent ~~human being~~ sentient entity.

34. ~~What does each decade make you think of:~~

Skipping this one because I only have so many cats to wax.

35. Which decade do you feel the most special connection to and why?

The 80s are the decade of my childhood, and my strongest musical influences. I don't miss shoulder pads, though.

36. What is your favorite oldie/classic rock song?

I don't have a lot single favorite anythings, but I really love "All Along The Watchtower."

37. ~~What country do you live in and who is the leader of that country?~~

38. What's your favorite TV channel to watch in the middle of the night?

The internet.

39. What Disney villain are you the most like and why?

Probably Ursula. And I have the tentacles to prove it. Though I'll have to have the Gothtopus taken in before I wear it next.