Well, Wouldn't That Be Obvious?

Use Lohin, not Zhodai. Zhodai is a redundant character. And Lohin makes more sense.

snip snip

More On God's War

Working on God's War, which helps me shift gears from the rewrites on The Dragon's Wall. It's the nice thing about working on two, well, three books at once: if your brain stalls on one, you can switch to the other.

Things are going to be pretty quiet here until the end of the month when I finish up my edits for The Dragon's Wall. I've just got a lot of projects going on at once.

I've also got an application for the MFA program at Brooklyn College that I need to get out. After considering a lot of diff't options, I've decided on applying to just one program and seeing what happens. It's only two years, which would be the max amount of time I could do in NY. If I don't get accepted, then I just do one year in NY.

We'll see what happens. I'm holding off on the law school option for awhile. It's still something I'm interested in, but I'm not keen on doing it in New York, and I'd like to be in New York next year, as flying in and out of there is getting exhausting for me and B, and I'd like to wake up next to B every day instead of two or three days a month.

In Which Everything Starts to Feel Like Work

Ug. Tired.

57 Percent Of College Girls Want To Sleep With Angelina Jolie

Who would have thought?

But isn't that kinda gay?

heh heh

Proving That My Naming Schemes Are Actually Pretty Good

British Office Compiles List Of Odd Names

... discoveries included Boadicea Basher, Philadelphia Bunnyface, Faithful Cock, Susan Booze, Elizabeth Disco, Edward Evil, Fozzitt Bonds, Truth Bullock, Charity Chilly, Gentle Fudge, Obedience Ginger and Offspring Gurney

Oh, Danika Darling

VS.

























I think she looks hotter in the jump suit, personally. I'm hoping that her new promotions involve her wearing more clothes.

Why?

Would you see a male race car driver posed with no clothes in front of a car?

Um. No.

See, I have no problems with selling products using your image. The Williams sisters got some great Nike contracts, and Nike has some great ads (of course, with their religious upbringing, I don't think their father would let them be caught dead half-dressed for any reason, which gets into issues of why in the hell 20-something women are still getting bossed around by their dads, but I digress). Anyhow, as somebody who's always looking for ways I can get my passion to give me two pennies to rub together, I can see the allure of throwing on a bikini and photoshopping in front of a car.

But ideally I'd prefer the ad to say something more about my image than, "I can wear a red bikini and look super sexy after a good airbrushing."

I mean, shit, after a good air brushing I'd look good in a red bikini.

If you want to sell shit with bodies, why not sell us people instead of flesh? Why not sell greatness, talent, people who are really fucking good at stuff? I guess it's easier to sell stuff if you think, "Hey, I'll buy XXX and then I'll be hot!!"

Instead of, "Hey, buying XXX will help me on my way to being a super athlete!"

I gotta say I'm not surprised Danika's taking her clothes off, but I was hoping for better.

I've Been Found Out

Got a call at my desk from Yellow yesterday.

"Can you come back here?" he said.

I walked back to his cubicle expecting that I was going to get into trouble for putting in the wrong dates for something or miscalculating the number of LMUs we've installed.

I saw that he was surfing the internet.

Yellow: "So how does this thing with your agent work? How did it go?" (I'd mentioned in my e-mail about time off that I was taking last Friday off to work on my book because an agent was interested in it).

Me: She wants the whole thing, but I've gotta do edits first. If she likes it and thinks she can sell it, she'll sign me. If she doesn't, she won't.

Yellow: So, like how much money can you make off something like that?

Me: Depends. Low end, 5K-20K. I'd like to make 40K, which is enough to pay off all my student loans and credit cards. If I'm really, really, lucky, the la-la land figure is six figures for book one with an option for book two.

Yellow: I'm soooo getting your resignation letter in a couple months.

Me: Uh. It'll be a lot longer than a couple months. And then, I'd only leave it was six figures. Anything less, and I have to keep the desk jockey job.

Yellow: You know, I'm thinking about writing a book.

Me: I'm sure you are, Yellow.

Yellow: What? I totally knew you'd laught. So, you know all about this blog stuff, right?

Me: ??

Yellow: What are some good blogs to read? Tuff over there is looking for some love poems.

Me: Love poems? (????)

Yellow: Yea. He's Italian. Love poems.

Me: Yellow, you're asking the wrong person.

Yellow: But you know all about blogs (??). What's a good blog? What do you read?

Me: (is he fishing to see if I'll recommend mine?) I mostly read feminist and science fiction blogs.

Yellow: So, what's a good one?

Me: (does he really think I'm going to recommend mine??) Well, there's this one called Bitch Ph.D. She's pretty cool.

Yellow: (covers his face with his hands) Oh, man, you would recommend a blog called that.

Me: Yup.

Yellow: Tuff! Hey, Tuff! Kameron says she doesn't know of any love poetry blogs.

Tuff: That's OK, I'll google it.

Yellow: Google "love poetry."

Tuff: Oh, yea. There are lots of love poetry blogs, I just know it.

Yellow: You know, Tuff, you can google all sorts of things.

Me: Yellow, did you actually call me back here for something work-related, or are you just bored?

Yellow: I'm just bored.

Me: OK, Yellow

I have a sneaking suspicion I may have been found out.

Good Morning, Chiklits

I emerge from NY well rested, well fed, and have a shitload of edits to do on the Fantasy Saga. I need to alter some names and compress several characters into single characters (the problem with cutting 60K from a book and keeping all of the original characters is that you realize some of them only exist to accomplish one task, and they're the sorts of tasks I can make other people do). Once those are done - I've given myself a 2-week deadline - the whole thing goes off to the Agent, and then we'll see what happens.

It's like roulette, with no death involved.

My parents called last night to let me know that I apparently had a parking ticket on their old station wagon from 1999 that I hadn't paid.... hmmmm I'd almost forgotten about this one. They never sent me anything about it, so I ignored it. At the time, I recalled that it was $350, and impossible to pay, but according to my dad, it's only $150. I'm sending them a check...

Meet the Parents weekend went well. B's parents are very cool and smart and funny and nice, and they use the word "fuck" at the dinner table, which made me feel right at home! They live in one of those Brooklyn brownstones whose price tags make you choke on your coffee.

Anyhow, looking forward to a very productive week. Lots to do, very exciting, all the hard work is starting to pay off.

I Find it Appropriate That My Cure is "LIGHT SELF ON FIRE"

What kind of disease are you? Kameron Hurley:
Kameron Hurley is caused by monkeys.	Kameron Hurley disease causes deadly flatulence upon infection. To cure Kameron Hurley, light self on fire.
Name?

Off Again & Clarification

I have a good deal of things to say, but I'm channeling a lot of energy into fiction writing (selling fantasy's going to be getting more and more popular, eh?). Hopefully, I'll be resuming something more like my usual blogging schedule on Monday. Tonight, it's off to NY for some good-old-fashioned quality time with B. It's "meet the parents" weekend.

I'm bringing a very nice shirt.

Also, since I just can't resist, after nearly a year of gender-neutral blogging, I realize that I've previously been somewhat ambiguous about who exactly Jenn's SO is. Now that Jenn's Out, I get to use the pronoun SHE, and for blogging purposes, let's call her K.

Yes, that's right! I'm now officially able to say that Jenn's SO is, in fact, a GIRL!! Yes, I live in a houseful of BRILLIANT LESBIANS! They've been watching TENNIS all week and comparing notes about hot female tennis players (I don't much care for blonds, alas)! We go through oddles of FEMININE HYGIENE products! There is all sorts of GIRL LOVIN' in our house! They are both getting DOCTORAL DEGREES!

And, wow, our house hasn't been struck by lightning.

Neener neener neener


















So ends that clarification, which I know several readers had asked about at some point...

You can all go back to your regularly scheduled programming.

CEO Barbie Gives Girls Unrealistic Career Images

Why is it these days that I'm having more and more trouble realizing I'm reading something from The Onion?

Geez.

(via twisty)

Good Morning, Chiklits

I have coffee. It is good.

I Sure Do Feel That in My Ass

Totally revamped my morning weights routine, which had gotten stale and boring and wasn't doing much for me anyway. Now it's back to kicking my ass, literally.

I've added front squats and deadlifts, and ohhhhh does my ass notice.

Keep in mind that I've only got 20 lb and 30 lb weights at home, so it'll be sometime before I deadlift 100 lbs at home, as I need to work up to 50 lb free weights. Right now I'm just happy I can do one set of eight squats.

Don't push me just yet.

My ass is already upset with me.

Wow, People Actually Buy This Stuff!

Wow, people are buying stuff at my CafePress store!

Superkewl. I make a buck or two for every sale, so hey, send me to World Fantasy in November!

And if I see you wearing BW apparel at the Con, I'll, like, sign it or something.

Hey, I might be famous in twenty or thirty years! And oh yes, wouldn't you just love to have such a token to sell on ebay, and then you can use the money to go to a Con or your daughter's wedding in, say, 2025.

Now that's planning ahead.

Good Morning, Chiklits

Thank goodness it's a short week.

Off to NY Thursday night.

Only 3 days of mind-numbing desk jockey work until then! Yay!

Lemons and Melons and Pears, Oh My

I'm just gonna second Scalzi:

Now things get really interesting.

Blog Down

I'll see you all Tuesday.

I have a shitload of work to do...

A Million People Homeless

Still trying to get my head around that one, let alone the fact that an entire city just basically sank.

I'm reminded of a local city of mine that did a similiar disappearing act. They didn't recover. Try finding Vanport, Oregon today:

Vanport, the 2nd largest city in Oregon and the largest public housing project in the nation was flooded when a dike holding back the Columbia River gave way at 4:05 p.m. on May 30, 1948. Vanport, 15-feet below Columbia's water level, was completely underwater by nightfall. Fifteen people died in the flood. Houses were washed off of their foundations and the entire town was lost.

Vanport, a combined name of the nearby cities -- Vancouver and Portland -- has been erased off maps and all visible traces of the city have disappeared.

Just like that.

I Miss Beating the Crap Out of Stuff

I've spent the last week or so mourning (again) the loss of my martial arts and boxing classes.

A lot of it was the money. Paying $120 a month was killing me. So was the commute. Going downtown and back two or three times a week, catching buses, trains, transferring, was wearing me out. I was also plugged into making class times, whereas with a gym, I've got more freedom as to when I go. And a lot of it was that the last few months (like, FOUR) of my membership, I just wasn't going. I had a bunch of flying to do with the job earlier this year, then problems with the pill, then three months of hell while my body adjusted to the IUD.

But I miss it. A lot.

I miss beating the crap out of stuff twice a week, working out my aggression. I miss hanging out in a class with a bunch of buff people, many of whom are women who aren't afraid to look buff. I miss the rush of confidence after class. I miss that kind of strength.

Sure, I go to the gym, and I'm looking buffer now than I did then, actually, cause I'm targeting other stuff and eating much better than I did while in MA classes.

But there's something different that happens when you beat stuff up for a few hours a week. Something different in the way you hold yourself, the way you look at people. And I miss that.

The first thing I do when I move next year is find a boxing gym.

I mean, after I get a job.

Yea. Sure.

Revenge of the Binge

The last couple of nights, I've been stopping off at the local pharmacy before I get home and greedily stocking up on chocolate and twinkies and those ritz crackers with the processed cheese in them.

Monday I did OK. I bought four chocolate bars, had a bite of each, and threw them away. Not bad.

I could cope.

Yesterday I got through the donut, the cookie, and yogurt pretzels before I managed to stop. I threw away the twinkies and the king-sized chocolate bar uneaten. I could have just stopped at the yogurt pretzels. Nothing wrong with eating some yogurt pretzels if you're hungry, but when I'm freaking out about food, I obsessively grab anything I can get my hands on.

It's not even about eating it. I throw most of it away. Realizing I could feel just as good buying it, eating one thing, and throwing the rest away was pretty liberating. But that's the fascinating part about it: it's not the eating, it's the having stuff to eat part that I'm craving.

The thing with knowing I'm a binge eater is knowing exactly what's triggering the obsessive need for a calorie-rush composed mainly of sugar and salt in processed food form. I didn't buy myself lunches this week, and was too tired to cook lunches on Sunday, which turned into me frantically looking through the freezer, finding something sub-par, trying to eat it at work and gagging on it, and being starving by the time I went home. I tried loading up on other frozen meals, but I bought cheap sub-par ones again because the choices at the place I stopped were limited, so Tuesday I was freaking out as well.

I'm also seriously stressed out, and stress is a big trigger. I know it's stress because it's the acquiring of the food that seems to be the part I'm really, really craving. The hunger part could be satisfied with one serving of something. The binge part has to do with stress. When I'm stressed out, I want food around me. It's the idea that I somehow internalized growing up, "If we have food, everything will be OK."

And being stressed, I also crave a sugar high, which would certainly make me feel less depressed - for a short while, until I came down off it and spent the rest of the night looking and feeling despondent. Which, of course, is exactly what happened.

Binge behavior is really, really weird. It's almost weirder now that I buy stuff and just throw it away. It seems ever more weird and hysterical than actually sitting down and eating ever everything did. I mean, eating would make more sense. It would be more clearly about hunger. But then, of course, it's not, so obsessive-collecting behavior makes more sense.

The moral of the story is: I've gotta fucking take care of my food issues at lunch and not try and cut calories there or eat something sub-par that's primarily composed of processed foods stripped of all nutritional content.

It's a great way to send me tail-spinning.

And that's not a place I need to be right now.