September 7th, 2003

children of dune - leto 1

svfic: looking-glass, 5 (WAS all sorts of things and Clexbrothersfic)


I'm doomed to a month of Saturday workdays. Currently, I'm somewhere in the range of forty hours of overtime and twenty hours of comp and forty something of annual.

In other words, I could theorietically take off a month.

*grins* Coolness, no?

One of the others has one hundred something hours of overtime. Another one has two hundred something. I'm still minor league here.

Oh. Okay, this may bore everyone, but jump behind the cut tag real quick? Got a question.

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New Obsessions

Tru Calling. Eliza Dushku. I'm already in love with the show. My fingers itch. A lot.


Entertainment Weekly had an article on Alias fanfic. Okay, a blurb, in the normal line of them, but it amused me and made me think of celli. Issue 726, September 5, 2003, if you haven't seen it already, page 41.

*sighs* You know, I AM too fannish. I just don't get why people think this is weird.

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Snippet from WeirdClexBrothersFic. What, you thought I didn't work on it anymore?

Earlier snippets are in the Memories thing.

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feeling very manly today

I am SO the Man.

Macho. That is me. Me me me. I, singlehandedly and with minimal intsructions, have in fact, installed a doorknob on my bedroom door ON MY OWN.

I PICKED that sucker out of Wal-Mart, brought it home, got myself some screwdrivers and hammers and nails, a Sausalito cookie, made coffee, and settled myself to make that door bow.

This is how to do it.

One--skim the instructions, because those are for Lesser Mortals that aren't me. You know, like a guy would do.

Two--stare blankly at curiously shaped pieces of metal that eventually assemble into something like a doorknob.

Three--realize screwing directly into whatever that door is made out of is masochistic. Take thin nail from wall, put in place, hammer in. Admires ability to hammer. Tries to pull nail out. Fails. Tries again. Fails. Gets back of hammer on the job. Hammer wins--I mean, jenn wins! Yay!

Four--screw plates on with cleverly discovered powertool. Feel like hair may be growing on chest. Make note to wax.

Five--realize interior gizmo should go on first.

Six--unscrew plates, put in gizmo.

Seven--screw plates in. Do caveman dance.

Eight--put in doorknob. Twist a few times for fun. Watch it fall into two pieces. Mull the pieces. Pick them up.

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve--fight screws on doorknob. Emerge victorious. Caper and hijink.

Thirteen--wall plate. Will so not go in.

Fourteen--still not

Fifteen--and still not.

Sixteen--mostly there.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen--struggle with screws.

Twenty--told that powerdrill is out of battery. Wait for it to charge.

Twenty-one--kidnap other person to finish screwing in thing on doorway with weird, rubber grip screwdriver, because again, not so much the masochist to do it myself. Cut more capers. Lots of them.

I feel this insane urge to drink beer, belch, and yell at the television showing some major league sporting event. Perhaps spit as well. I should spit. I should so totally spit.

Okay, that's just gross.

Bought egrerious Halloween decorations. I'm such a consumer. Bought child project stuff. Salsalito cookies. Hair care products. Going to make skirt. I think. Or at least help. Just to see if I can.

I am SO feeling it today, people.

Other Cool Things

oxoniensis has started a new community for the discussion of Smallville fanfiction at svroundtable. This sounds very interesting.

The Treasury

For those who wonder if we forgot, we didn't. Working three of the last five or six Saturdays has drained the hell out of me along with the overtime, and I know Celli and Tara found themselves uberly short of time over the last month because of school and work. Anyway, I've finished my first draft counting and am rechecking over the next few of days when I have time, since with any kind of luck I'll be home on time for at least a couple of days.


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Er...see, I started with a *doorknob*. Jeez, I need to go out more.


QaFicness goes slowly, slowly, slowly, but at least it's moving, which is more than I can say about anything else right now. I'm not sure how it happened that it just hit forty something pages, because the plot wasn't supposed to do that, but then again, it never does. I really need to commit to being a novelist.

*shudders* That word again.

Okay, skirt to make. Let's see if this is possible.