Sunday, August 25, 2013

Where are the sneers and jeers that you bravely let us hear?

Too lazy (tired) to get the pics from the wedding off my camera and the title of this entry has nothing to do with the day. (Black Mountain Symphony does a KICK ASS cover of “Come Out, Ye Black and Tans” and I’ve had that stuck in my head all day.)

I have a lot to say about yesterday, and I will, eventually…

I have to do a quick brain dump in my paper journal (if I can find the damn thing…), and process it first before I can post it publicly. Because…

There were feels.

Epic.

Feels.

In the meantime, THE. WEDDING. WAS. FUCKING. AWESOME.

I couldn’t think of a better way to spend our eleventh anniversary than watching Annie and Charlie get hitched.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

nom nom nom

i’m obsessed with this photoshoot

Seriously - I am OBSESSED with photos of him in this jumper, leaning on the railing.

I have a wider version of this as the background on my MBP and I have a black and white version as the background on my phone.

That jumper is just gorgeous. I want to knit one for myself.

The guy in it ain’t too bad, either.

——

No guarantees that the “container” will fix my car problems, but I’m tabling the new car insanity for now. I don’t want a new car. I’m not ready for a new car…

The Forester is just going to have to suck it up and get on with its life.

(Also, I can’t believe how much I missed driving stick. Two days I was in an automatic… two days of hating every moment of the loaner.)

——

I’ve been trying to listen to music the boss DOESN’T know so that he can’t sing.

Today, I listened to the Ameros, and I could see how hard he was trying to figure out what it was. I’m going to have to be careful… if I listen to things enough, he will learn them and they’ll be ruined 5ever. (Yesterday was the Sherlock score (series 1 and 2), all day. I love the score and - bonus - he doesn’t seem to enjoy instrumentals.)

He’s gone tomorrow, so I am cranking the Black Mountain Symphony and rocking out.

It will be so nice to listen to “good” music again.

——

A high school friend posted a link to an article which summarized the 23 signs you might be a closeted introvert. I had 21 out of 23.

One of those 21 was “you are a writer.”

I don’t write.

At all.

Never.

Nope.

So I’m not going to recap (for historical value more than anything) my current progress. Because there’s nothing to recap.

“This Week: Hartford!” is 95% there. Two more sets of eyes and it goes live on AO3. FanFic.net sucks balls right now, so I don’t know if it’s worth cross posting to there…

“This Week: Paris!” is now three rewrites in, and, at this point, needs to be junked. *sigh*

It’s funny how Paris is the first part of the “trilogy” that I wrote and the one I loved more than anything out of the four once they were all done. I wrote everything around Paris, but now that Hartford (the last bit actually written even though it’s a prologue) is getting spit-shined, I can see where I fucked up in Paris.

I’ve decided I hate Paris - both as a tourist location and a chapter in my Cabin Pressure fan fic.

“This Week: Fitton!” is completed. Needs Hartford and Paris finalized before I can move on it more. (I know there will be continuity errors… They’re already very visible…)

“This Week: London!” is completed. Needs Hartford, Paris and Fitton to be finalized. (In addition to everything else I have going on, I can’t address Y-L-B and ignore Vaduz, so that will need to be dealt with. *sigh*)

Untitled Johnlock dealing with a Zodiac copycat is four handwritten pages in. After writing brOTP Johnlock, I’m actually kind of happy to be writing a casefic featuring BAMF!John and normal!Sherlock. (Sherlock!Sherlock? I have no fucking idea… I gave it a name. It’s a thing now. Deal with it.)

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

For those heavy flow days in the savannah

too many maxi pads and not enough tampons

This is probably my most favorite GISHWHES arts and crafts project ever.

An elephant made out of feminine hygiene products… mostly purchased during a BOGO or a buy one, get one 50% off sale. The poor teenaged boy who had to ring me up the first time I loaded up on maxi pads… He didn’t know what to think, and I was laughing so fucking hard that I could barely breathe.

It. Was. Awesome.

It’s things like that - that push my boundaries and make me feel so crazy (but not in a bipolar way) - that really make GISHWHES a red dress moment, spread out over a week of crazy.

I’m still bummed that I didn’t enjoy it as much as I did last year, but I did have some good times during the week.

Making Jumbo was definitely this year’s highlight.

——

So.

Let’s talk about stupid, nasty, grown up shit for a moment.

My little Forester, my baby, is starting to have some major issues. The check engine light has come on twice - the first time it was a “loose gas cap”. THAT was complete bullshit. The gas cap wasn’t loose. At all. Then, it came on a second time. This time, they said they had to do a ‘smoke test’.

There was some kind of leak, somewhere. I’m fuzzy on the details, but they told me that [this] happens when you top off your gas tank. I don’t top off my gas tank. I NEVER top off my gas tank, so I don’t know why there was a funky surplus of gas in the [thingymajoggybobber]. But apparently, having a funky surplus of gas in the [thingymajoggybobber] isn’t a good thing.

She recommended a $500 part, with the caveat that this might only be a band-aid. A five fucking hundred dollar fucking band-aid.

Now, the car has 110K+ miles, which is, in Subaru years, still a toddler, but it’s 110K miles. Any other car would be asking for last rites by this point.

It will be due for a new clutch sooner rather than later, according to my gut. I don’t even know what a clutch is going to cost, but the clutch in my first Subaru was almost $2K.

We’re getting to the point where any big repair is going to be a sizable portion of what I have left in payments.

I was hoping I’d have at least a year or two before I had to start thinking about replacing the Forester, but I’m starting to be afraid that it’s coming up quicker than I wanted it to.

Which leads me to a very serious dilemma.

Do I replace the Forester with another Forester or do I get the BMW that I promised myself I’d get once the Forester was done?

(I know… first world problems, spoiled little ‘rich’ girl, materialism, paying for the name/not the car, depreciation, place your anti-BMW sentiment here)

It’s not even a matter of money at this point. I was unemployed long enough to figure out how to cut the right corners and put almost $1K extra in our pockets every month, so whatever payment I’d have, I could make, comfortably. Plus, I have “extra” money since I’m getting paid more now than I was before.

For me, it comes down to $43K for a car vs. $32K for my first house.

You read that right. My very first house was $32K. That’s it. A TWO BEDROOM HOUSE. (In a shitty neighborhood in Toledo, OH, but still. A two bedroom house on .75 acres!)

My mortgage payments were less than my car payments at that time. Is that not insane?

The BMW I built tonight - with the same options I have on the Forester - came out to almost $43K.

I’ve have been laser focused on owning a BMW at some point in my life, and I’m not getting any younger. I know I’m not going to die young like my parents did (at least, I hope not), but if I’m honest, I don’t want to run out of time before I do own one. I keep thinking of my father and Kent State… of us and the lake house… of other dreams that have been pushed aside in favor of practicality.

I don’t want to be practical.

I have spent my ENTIRE life - for as long as I can remember - wanting a BMW. It started with an ad ripped out of Playboy (most likely… I didn’t grow up with those kind of boundaries. I probably saw the ad over my father’s shoulder or something. Dog knows I wasn’t really old enough to be READING Playboy, even though I could have. (I was reading at a high level even back at 5/6 years old. (Wow. That got complicated and long winded really quickly, didn’t it?))) of a 325i convertible. That ad stayed on my wall for years. It outlasted Kirk Cameron and NKOTB.

I had a longer relationship with that damn ad than I’ve had with the majority of people in my life.

*sigh*

I thought writing it out would hep me figure it out.

I know what I want to do. (Buy a BMW, duh.)

I know what I should do. (Buy a Subaru.)

I don’t know which decision I’m going to regret more…

Hopefully, this band-aid works and I can stop worrying about this.

Obviously, I’m not ready for a new car of ANY sort.

If I was, I wouldn’t be freaking out.

*sigh*

Saturday, August 17, 2013

I write. A lot. Sherlock fan fic, mostly.

misha’s a little too open about his addiction to fan fic…

So… the boss and I were talking about my insomnia and how he’s not pushing yoga on me (although he did for an HOUR), but he thinks yoga would help.

He asked what I did when I couldn’t sleep… I told him that I was pretty active in the fan fiction world, and that I proofread and brit-pick (a little) other’s works. He asked what, so I told him Sherlock, the BBC version. I don’t think there are words in the English language that could accurately describe the look on his face. AND I DIDN’T EVEN TELL HIM ABOUT THE WHOLE HOMO-EROTIC SUBTEXT. OR THAT, I, MYSELF, SHIP JOHNLOCK LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER.

I think I’d die if he knew what I was actually proofreading… it seems the PWP writers have a soft spot for my mad beta skills. If there’s a kink out there, I’ve probably read a fic that features it. I try to stick to canon-ish Johnlock, too - no AUs like Grease, Ballet, or Uni!Lock. I will do Parent!Lock if I have to, but I draw the line at Alpha/Omega and mpreg… (Seriously, that’s some fucked up shit right there.)

GISHWHES is keeping me busy. It sucks, though, because I’m really not into it this year. I’ve done the minimum I feel I can get away with. Last year was life changing… this year? Not so much. I just can’t get excited about it. I had moments where I loved what I was doing, but for the most part? Eh.

Work is good - he did say something to me on the 15th about it being a full month. (Which it was… wow. He was keeping track, too.)

He’s getting better. I’m getting used to him, too. I’m screwing up some weird shit, but he’s happy that I get mad at myself for it and he gets my logic. It’s an interesting dynamic we have going on, but I’m (finally) OK with it.

He and I, independently, both say “hotel, motel, Holiday Inn” at random times during the day. I still think it’s a little surreal that I work in a hotel room. I get uncomfortable asking housekeeping to clean my toilet or take the trash out… those are my co-workers, man! But, I have a great view of the parking lot and get to play yellow car. I’m also expanding my music collection to things he can’t sing along to. (The singing, oh Dog, the singing… if I could get him to stop that, I would!)

But. Yeah. Work is good.

Life, in general, is pretty damn good…

Sunday, August 11, 2013

So much to say, so unable to say it

the. eye. crinkles.

I’m back to thinking about focusing on the CMA exam.

I’m back to thinking about grad school. (Masters of Accounting at UCONN this time. It’s online, which I need, and I think an accounting focus might be better, but I’m not sure. A ‘global’ MBA or something might be better. Especially if I’m hell bent on getting out of the US eventually.)

I guess it’s a good thing that these aren’t new ideas…

I’ve tried both (unsuccessfully), and now I know what I’m in for.

My job is different.

I’m different.

I’m going to give it some time before I rush into picking up where I left off, but - like before - it feels like the right choice.

I just don’t know if it’s something feasible.

——

There’s a lot on my mind today, but I don’t have the words.

I wish I did.

There’s some stuff I want to talk about.

Not necessarily here, but I can’t even get it into my paper journal.

For someone who’s been writing up a storm, this is annoying as fuck.

*sigh*