it's a convoluted mess
I was rifling through some old files recently, falling into a rabbit hole of bad web design and a whole lot of writing notes for stories long forgotten, and I found a blog post. I have no idea if it was ever actually posted. It would have been on my Live Journal, but I’m too lazy (and frankly, too avoiding-bad-memories) to go through and look for it. It’s nothing terribly ground breaking. It’s just a… Keep reading…Seventy-six days…
Either the roommate across the street is out of his damn mind, or he’s using headphones or a bluetooth device. Standing on the front step, smoking, head bobbing, and flailing his [cigarette] hand around as if he’s having a very animated discussion with someone, or listening to some music. Based strictly on the hand movements, I’d guess hardcore rap. Since the windows are closed (it’s 16 degrees outside) I can’t hear what he’s saying, but… Keep reading…Off that track…
I was looking at spice grinders on Amazon and everything appears to be marketed towards pot smokers. I just want to get a consistent texture in my Italian seasoning mix not make pot brownies. Whatever. In my current—never ending—writing drought, I find myself still fixated mostly on one project. I might not be making progress, but it’s holding my attention. That’s something, I suppose. I’ll eek out a few lines here and there, but not… Keep reading…Maybe I’m just high…
Pensive Cid is pensive. — Light Switch Sky O.A.R.
I love my home architect program. I spend hours designing and tweaking floor plans for story projects. It’s like my favorite video game. In high school I entertained the idea of becoming an architect. I had been fixated on designing houses since an 8th grade tech class had us designing a 2-bedroom house on graph paper. When I realized I could design my own houses for my stories, I was all over that shit. My… Keep reading…Nothing more left here to see…
After the miserable hell that is summer, I have a tendency to forget just how much it sucks to leave the house in the winter. Ice and snow and bad plow jobs and stupid people and it’s fucking COLD. Layer on the hoodies and pile on the blankets please and thank you. Burr. — That Was a Crazy Game of Poker O.A.R.