Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

buzzzzzzzzzzz

Wowzers! I don't remember ever being so busy in December before. It's weird because I don't have a full time job. Then again, I didn't usually sleep much this time of year when I did have a job. If that's the trade-off, I'm leaning towards my 8 hours a night.

Leaving on a jet plane in less than 2 weeks may also have something to do with the busy-bee-ness.

Happy December 22nd!

One more Christmas chore checked off the list

I sent out a few Christmas cards a couple days ago. I woke up that morning with a runny nose and generally feeling like crap. Neither is much fun. The sneezing wasn't the Plague Du Jour, merely the regular bitchy sinus problem. The oversleeping was my own fault though. I always feel worse the later I crawl out of bed, even if I hadn't slept much the previous night. Between the oversleeping and over-sneezing, I was quite cranky indeed. The crankiness rose a few more levels on the crankometer when I made the mistake of looking out the window. White Christmas my ass. More like Friggin' Foggy Christmas.

So, anyway, about the cards. After intense negotiations between the Procrastination Devil on my left shoulder and the Organized Angel on my right shoulder, a compromise was reached: I'd write out the addresses and leave the personal notes for later when I'd be (hopefully) less cranky. Of course, once I start something like that, I usually finish it. And I did. There are a few more people I'd like to send cards to, but I don't have their mailing addresses. This whole mailing-Christmas-cards thing is kind of new to me. I guess this year is going to be a practice run for next Christmas when I'm away from all my friends and family. I'll be in a faraway land, romping with Ewoks.

I'll explain the Ewok thing later on. Right now, it's bedtime. And no, I don't have a thing for furries.

So THAT'S what the H stands for!

I was not online at all yesterday. Trust me, this was not from a lack of effort on my part. Stupid dial-up refused to dial-up. After many failed attempts and much checking of wires, I sat back and tried to relax. After a short period of extremely tense relaxation attempts, I calmly stood up, and began flinging furniture around the room.

Now, I do try to keep things in perspective - looking on the bright side, looking for the silver lining, singing in the rain, and all kinds of phooey crap like that (hey, I didn't say I try very hard). After just a few short minutes of intense teeth-grinding in the aftermath of the furniture-flinging, I realized that something positive did come out of the whole mucky situation - I now have many more curses at my disposal. I've discovered fresh new combinations of ordinary swear words that were already floating around in the pejorative language center of my brain - Cunting fuck Christ! Motherbitching hellfuck! Horny Jesus! Dick shitters! Shitfrigging pussy lips! I've given the names of common household objects the status of being profane language - Toast crap! Paint fuck! Buggering bag of lightbulbs! Lampshit!


Seriously though, I did move a lot of furniture around. Mom wanted the loveseat moved down the hall and into the newly de-cluttered (Halle-toastin'-lujah!) spare room. That was fun, let me tell you. Oh, the fun I had. Epic poems shall be written about the amount of enjoyment I received while dragging/shoving/lifting that paintfucking loveseat across the house. I did it though. It's nestled snugly in it's new home. I certainly hope it likes it back there, because I'm never touching the lampshitting thing again.

There was all kinds of empty space left in the living room after The Loveseat Incident took place. I rearranged the remaining furniture and then put up the Christmas tree. She smelled funny, but I guess that's what being trapped inside a cardboard box for 11 months does to Christmas trees. I sprayed her with air freshener, and she now stands (and smells) majestically in our living room. I named her Treena: Queen of the Christmas Trees, Defender of Colored Lights and Protector of the Sacred Candy Canes.

Have I mentioned all the free time I have on my hands?

It's December already?

I not only wrote 30 posts in 30 days for NaBloPoMo, I wrote 30 posts about zombies. That was my personal goal, to pick a theme and stick with it. That's how NovZomCon was born.

I had a lot of fun with it. There are definitely things I would have done differently, but I guess that's how it is with hindsight. I had toys and clothing squished together and I don't know what I was thinking. I could probably find 30 zombie themed t-shirts alone. Same thing for movies and television...and musicals and plays and short films and porn and music videos and...well, you get the idea.

No, I don't know why Borat is on the NaBlo winners badge.

Then there was NaNoWriMo. I totally rocked it. I wrote a novel - a big freakin' 50,000 word manuscript! It's not quite finished yet, but it will be. I came this far, I know I can keep going. I'm very proud of myself actually. There were fireworks when I had my novel validated, almost like at the end of a level in Super Mario Bros. Sadly, they weren't animated.

CreateSpace is offering each NaNo winner a free proof copy of their manuscript. With my novel sitting on the shelf with all the other paperback books, I can pretend to be a real author.

Actually, I already fit a few of the stereotypes; I drink coffee, own cats, struggle with depression, and spend much of my day alone. If I take up chain smoking or get hit by a car, I'll be on the bestsellers list before I know it!