Current mood:	drained
Current music:	Emiliana Torrini - The Boy Who Giggled So Sweet

Long freakin' time
I know. I know. Seriously, I do. I've been kind of...well, I haven't been posting. There's a lot going on. At the same time, somehow, there's hardly anything going on.

Most of it is work. I have about four hours, after traffic and income tax, per day to do things like eat and do laundry and look after my vehicle, so when I get home, I'm sort of dead-ish, and wanting to soak my brain in the alluring clutches of things like Starcraft and Yuri's Revenge to keep me from having to think about how much time I don't have. It's like a drug. A very, very inexpensive one. I don't buy any games at the fifty-dollar debut value, because really, that's just silly. Except Neverwinter Nights 2. When that comes out in October, I'm getting a whole new system just to play the freakin' thing.

That is, of course, unless my car breaks, which it just might. It has an oil leak, and I need to get it fixed. My mother, dear sweet woman that she is (and y'all orta know that by now), has hit sort of a slump, and if you know me, you know I'll do eenyfin for my momma, even if she didn't ask me to. So now that my nasty we-didn't-file-your-paperwork-right-so-you-don't-get-paid-what-you-were-promised issues are resolved, I've offered to rush in with bags of money to float her along until Eric's big paychecks come in. Or at least, give her some leeway in dealing with it all.

And then Zack loses his job.

It's not his fault, but with certain people, you can tell that "not his fault" could have been prevented, by him, without a lot of effort. It was my boss who made "CYA" (cover your ass) a term I use often, and when you work for the state, you do have to guard your ass from many different directions with documentation of all types. Even before that, though, I knew better than to do what Zack does, bless his rotund ass. So I wonder how things will go.

I don't think Chad can help me float him, and I'm damned near positive Leche can't (I don't expect you to remember that they're my roommates, so I tells ya). Guess it's up to Mr. Big-paycheck, low-car-insurance-cost to save the frickin' day. Bums I live with. But that's out of my October money, not out of my September money, which, hey, I have right now. So today(ish) I'm going to get my car checked out (/fixed) and take a look at a dollar sign for mom. (Sorry for not taking care of this earlier, mum.)

Also, I have a fifty dollar donation to make to a charitable organization, now that their payment function is all in order, like I promised. Just because someone fools me a third time by making me think they won't suddenly stop talking to me altogether without an explanation and continue talking to everyone else, doesn't mean I'm not the kind of person who keeps his promises.

Come to think of it, that's been happening a lot lately. People just cut me off without any word of criticism or advice. And yes, I've thought about why, and haven't come up with any answers that don't make these people sound like the most horribly immature people in the world. So. Um. People? If you've ever thought of just picking up anchor and sailing out of my life without so much as a howdy-doo, I'd appreciate, to the depths of my spleen, being given a hint as to what would merit this kind of thing.

But yeah, I haven't been making select-group postings or anything, and you can ask Jenna and Becca and Allie and Jamie, because I don't exclude them from my posts. Except Becca, and that was a long time ago, while she was in Denmark forging a new identify for herself without the looming presence of the rocks she was trying to get out from underneath, and I told her I was doing it. 'cuz I wuv her. I want her to become the person she dreams of being, and she's not likely to move to Oregon to avoid having to dhow8er502834yyjkh

Sorry. Paramom and Parasister and I went through some old photos on Thursday, and I'm bitter all over again. Of course, it doesn't help that on Thursday, I was exposed, for the first time, to THE SADDEST SONG IN THE UNIVERSE EVER. See below for details.

Turns out that by book-formatting my book for a big-ass hardcover, I'm losing a hundred pages of length. That will keep production costs down. Yay! I'm holding off on having it printed because Zack's aunt is an illustrator, and he might get her to do a freebie or something. My older brother Joe is also an awesome artist, but you'd have to read the book to know what to draw, and I don't want him reading it. He's one of those extremely judgemental people, who, when he has something to say, won't stop until you've heard everything he's had to say about it, and if there's one thing that history has shown me that he loves to do, it's degrade other people to build himself up. As laid-back as I am about how I wrote it for me and for nobody else, I'm very adamant about not wanting to know that he's there, emoting at me because I don't want to hear his opinion.

Production cost is still looking to be in the upper reaches of the $35-40 range. This is not a joyous thing. I may just divide it into three books, which, after I investigated the possibility of doing, is very doable.

But enough about my crap.


Let us all send our hopes and dreams out to drkflameofhavok, who has recently started school and holding down a job at the same time. She is in my can't-post-because-Christ-am-I-rushed-lately boat. Let us also pray that if she comes out here, she not bring Scene It, because she would never recover from the savage beating she would receive.

Let us bring joy upon Eva, who is sad and constantly away from her messengers and cannot email me. I know she would if she could, because she's bawsome.

I leave you now with an invigorating message of inspiration from our good friend, Homestar Runner.

DO YOU HAS?