From Twitter 12-17-2010
Dec. 18th, 2010 02:05 amTweets copied by twittinesis.com
Dec. 18th, 2010
4:35 PM 11/10/2010
Yesterday (Tuesday, Nov 9): best day ever. Or something like that. I went to three write-ins. The zombie blood energy drink is the most disgusting thing I have ever tried to consume. Moldy grapes and Coca-Cola Blak included.
On the morning of the 9th ... it's neither actually morning, nor the 9th. I wake up at 9pm or so on the 8th, and realize that this is going to be a hell of a day, and I'm going to try to reset my sleep schedule. Then I realize that![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jd mentioned that there were no Glee plans. I also realize that there are a bunch of write-ins, and since I have nothing else planned for the day, I can actually go to several of them. I examine the maps and plot out my route. I begin to caffeinate myself.
Write-in 1: San Jose Barnes & Noble, with the regular Tuesday morning group there. I meet people. I am shy, but it is a great group, and I will probably come back from time to time even when there is no NaNo in session. Great fun had by all.
I'm figuring I can grab lunch at some fast food place, or get lunch at the next write-in; it's a coffee shop, it probably has sandwiches, right?
I am distracted by the nearby mall stores, and do not find a hair clasp big enough in the Bed, Bath, and Beyond, but do find a cute little rubber ducky and a few other sundries in the party store. I then realize what time it is, and head to the next write-in, already late, and making it even better by managing to get slightly lost, take the wrong lane, leading to a wrong turn, and have to circle the block.
Write-in 2: I have busted through the Purple Line of Expectation by this time, so it's all sauce. I plot. I giggle evilly: Bozo is connected to this guy. Muahahaha. I envy the South Bay ML's Power Cord of Friendship. There are no sandwiches. I get a pastry and (more) coffee. I am vibrating. There is an "Aaaa Oooo" incident. There is a guy with an epically big bag of beef jerky. There are all sorts of interesting distractions. I head into Chat. I wind up leaving the write-in early, for dinner and because I can no longer focus, in part due to lowish blood sugar due to lack of lunch. The scruffy Silicon Valley guys are still outside.
I locate a Jack-in-the-Box between me and Write-in 3. I go in to eat. There is a homeless woman in there having loud emotional crisis. She has a lot to be upset about, and her husband is really a nasty piece of work, from her description. She is obviously a regular; the employees do not appear ruffled. Her friends are being supportive.
I have a bit of trouble parking at Write-in 3 in the Redwood City Library, given that I'm approaching the parking lot from a bad angle, and it's unfamiliar territory. I do get turned back around and park. I'm early. Other people arrive, and we collect upstairs. Once enough of us have shown up, we take over a room. There is a lounge for teenagers next to us, and they are having a wild rumpus. I begin writing the horrible confrontation between Connie and her horrible relatives, which will prove to block me for a bit of a while. My cackling disturbs all around me. Or entertains them. Or both at once. I give the horrible energy drink to the Penninsula ML, who knows a kid who loves all things zombie, and will delight in this. I disturb people in Chat with my excerpts.
Eventually it ends, and I am full of glee and giggliness. I finally arrive home and fall over exhausted.
The night of the 11th had some Shopping with Tif, and I got a sweet power strip of my very own.
5:20 AM 11/12/2010
Some Vorkosigan-related chatter, in the comments of which I speculate about Barrayar's likely accessibility fail for oath-taking involving people with fewer than the expected two hands. I bet there are problems for those people.
http://jmtorres.dreamwidth.org/1549463.html
There are few enough notes from the next few days that I think I was basically dormant.
The 16th or thereabouts had alarums and excursions, such that I wound up reading the Bastard's prayer because it was appropriate, particularly for some of the people I'd been chatting with. I am the Bastard's, and I was Eris's, so I get along just fine with a good many of Loki's people.
It was a Tuesday, so I went to the San Jose B&N write-in. The game of "let's give Barbie any career we have seen Mike Rowe try" is hilarious. Meet Horse Inseminator Barbie. Furthermore, somehow we got onto the topic of ( animal cruelty + sex, we hope mythical, the concept taken to the weirdest logical extension we could find at that time )
Yesterday (Tuesday, Nov 9): best day ever. Or something like that. I went to three write-ins. The zombie blood energy drink is the most disgusting thing I have ever tried to consume. Moldy grapes and Coca-Cola Blak included.
On the morning of the 9th ... it's neither actually morning, nor the 9th. I wake up at 9pm or so on the 8th, and realize that this is going to be a hell of a day, and I'm going to try to reset my sleep schedule. Then I realize that
jd mentioned that there were no Glee plans. I also realize that there are a bunch of write-ins, and since I have nothing else planned for the day, I can actually go to several of them. I examine the maps and plot out my route. I begin to caffeinate myself. Write-in 1: San Jose Barnes & Noble, with the regular Tuesday morning group there. I meet people. I am shy, but it is a great group, and I will probably come back from time to time even when there is no NaNo in session. Great fun had by all.
I'm figuring I can grab lunch at some fast food place, or get lunch at the next write-in; it's a coffee shop, it probably has sandwiches, right?
I am distracted by the nearby mall stores, and do not find a hair clasp big enough in the Bed, Bath, and Beyond, but do find a cute little rubber ducky and a few other sundries in the party store. I then realize what time it is, and head to the next write-in, already late, and making it even better by managing to get slightly lost, take the wrong lane, leading to a wrong turn, and have to circle the block.
Write-in 2: I have busted through the Purple Line of Expectation by this time, so it's all sauce. I plot. I giggle evilly: Bozo is connected to this guy. Muahahaha. I envy the South Bay ML's Power Cord of Friendship. There are no sandwiches. I get a pastry and (more) coffee. I am vibrating. There is an "Aaaa Oooo" incident. There is a guy with an epically big bag of beef jerky. There are all sorts of interesting distractions. I head into Chat. I wind up leaving the write-in early, for dinner and because I can no longer focus, in part due to lowish blood sugar due to lack of lunch. The scruffy Silicon Valley guys are still outside.
I locate a Jack-in-the-Box between me and Write-in 3. I go in to eat. There is a homeless woman in there having loud emotional crisis. She has a lot to be upset about, and her husband is really a nasty piece of work, from her description. She is obviously a regular; the employees do not appear ruffled. Her friends are being supportive.
I have a bit of trouble parking at Write-in 3 in the Redwood City Library, given that I'm approaching the parking lot from a bad angle, and it's unfamiliar territory. I do get turned back around and park. I'm early. Other people arrive, and we collect upstairs. Once enough of us have shown up, we take over a room. There is a lounge for teenagers next to us, and they are having a wild rumpus. I begin writing the horrible confrontation between Connie and her horrible relatives, which will prove to block me for a bit of a while. My cackling disturbs all around me. Or entertains them. Or both at once. I give the horrible energy drink to the Penninsula ML, who knows a kid who loves all things zombie, and will delight in this. I disturb people in Chat with my excerpts.
Eventually it ends, and I am full of glee and giggliness. I finally arrive home and fall over exhausted.
The night of the 11th had some Shopping with Tif, and I got a sweet power strip of my very own.
5:20 AM 11/12/2010
Some Vorkosigan-related chatter, in the comments of which I speculate about Barrayar's likely accessibility fail for oath-taking involving people with fewer than the expected two hands. I bet there are problems for those people.
http://jmtorres.dreamwidth.org/1549463.html
There are few enough notes from the next few days that I think I was basically dormant.
The 16th or thereabouts had alarums and excursions, such that I wound up reading the Bastard's prayer because it was appropriate, particularly for some of the people I'd been chatting with. I am the Bastard's, and I was Eris's, so I get along just fine with a good many of Loki's people.
It was a Tuesday, so I went to the San Jose B&N write-in. The game of "let's give Barbie any career we have seen Mike Rowe try" is hilarious. Meet Horse Inseminator Barbie. Furthermore, somehow we got onto the topic of ( animal cruelty + sex, we hope mythical, the concept taken to the weirdest logical extension we could find at that time )
( Day stuff. ) The epic disco ball dress that I'd worn for Halloween -- I'd looked at it, and I figured it was a bit manky. The label said to handwash, and never dryclean. I had a few other things that needed handwashing, and my launderizer had a handwash setting! What could be better?
O, the embarrassment.
So I opened the launderizer, and was greeted with a shower of slightly gummy flat silver sequins that had formerly been attached to my dress. I pulled everything out, with more sequins. I realized that all of the things that had been washed with the dress had sequins on them. I dug gobs of sequins out of the place where lint, hair, and other debris collects. (Though something to watch out for in the washer-and-dryer-in-one-unit launderizers if you've got long hair, is hairballs in your laundry. It's really jarring at first, and then more jarring if you find you've missed one after you go out.) Then I spent a not insignificant chunk of time getting sequins off the floor, and sequins off my person, and sequins off every other thing that had been in there, and sequins off my person again, and sequins out of my BED... you know how confetti is hell to clean up? You know how glitter is hell to clean up? You know how things that have not enough glue to stay stuck if you want them to stick, but enough glue to stick places you do not want them to stick, until falling off at the worst possible moment, are general hell? Yeah. Like that.
Despite all this, the dress retained at least 75% of its sequins, and still had a decent amount of sparkle in the non-sequined areas, due to the metallic threads in the base fabric.
While all that was going on, Tria-fish realized that the plans for seeing the midnight showing of HP7.1 at the reasonably-local-to-her theatre had one small flaw: transportation. Way after midnight. Woops. She posted to Facebook regarding this little problem, offering to split a taxi with someone local, or a free ticket to someone who could provide a ride.
( Logistics and phone stress. ) Then I picked up Tria and her friend.
Hilarity started to ensue, as we started chattering. Tria and her friend were very happy that this was actually going to work out, because it had been in question. Tria related how it was actually thanks to my sharing the tale of my adventures after RHPS on Halloween that she remembered to check transportation for the movie.
"Hey wait," her friend chimed in from the back seat. "You didn't remember that, I reminded you about transportation."
"Well, I was thinking about it!"
"I was still the one who said it first. And I was thinking about it because my friend got stuck in the city on Halloween after BART stopped running."
There was more good-natured squabbling, in which it turned out that her friend was in the city to see RHPS.
I commenced laughing. It was just too good to be true. Details emerged, and ... yes. The four giggling virgins who I'd assisted that night got to a diner and then got home safely. And one of them was new BFFs with Tria's friend.
"Text her!" Tria said. "Text her right now and tell her that you're in that lady's car AT THIS VERY INSTANT."
"And I'm wearing the same top!" I crowed, laughing so hard that the girls feared for my ability to find a parking spot safely. Sadly, Tria's friend did not have the number in her phone yet. We parked and headed in, and got pictures in front of the giant posters.
Instead of having interminable lines, they appeared to have shut down most of the rest of the theatre for the evening, so we were free to just go in and sit. So we sat. ( We entertained ourselves, then the Mysterious Ticking Noise. )
The movie was great fun. There were all sorts of things whispered back and forth, with particular attention to the Snatchers. I dropped the girls back at the dorm then went home.
My 4am review in IM, once I got back and got the worst of the sequins off me:
Movie good. ( Spoilers ahoy! )
If the landscapes do not bore you to tears as Harry, Hermione, and Ron are getting unhinged, I think you will like.
The rest of the 19th: Slept. Walked with aunt and poodle on oceanfront promenade (rain). Found missing backup drive.
O, the embarrassment.
So I opened the launderizer, and was greeted with a shower of slightly gummy flat silver sequins that had formerly been attached to my dress. I pulled everything out, with more sequins. I realized that all of the things that had been washed with the dress had sequins on them. I dug gobs of sequins out of the place where lint, hair, and other debris collects. (Though something to watch out for in the washer-and-dryer-in-one-unit launderizers if you've got long hair, is hairballs in your laundry. It's really jarring at first, and then more jarring if you find you've missed one after you go out.) Then I spent a not insignificant chunk of time getting sequins off the floor, and sequins off my person, and sequins off every other thing that had been in there, and sequins off my person again, and sequins out of my BED... you know how confetti is hell to clean up? You know how glitter is hell to clean up? You know how things that have not enough glue to stay stuck if you want them to stick, but enough glue to stick places you do not want them to stick, until falling off at the worst possible moment, are general hell? Yeah. Like that.
Despite all this, the dress retained at least 75% of its sequins, and still had a decent amount of sparkle in the non-sequined areas, due to the metallic threads in the base fabric.
While all that was going on, Tria-fish realized that the plans for seeing the midnight showing of HP7.1 at the reasonably-local-to-her theatre had one small flaw: transportation. Way after midnight. Woops. She posted to Facebook regarding this little problem, offering to split a taxi with someone local, or a free ticket to someone who could provide a ride.
( Logistics and phone stress. ) Then I picked up Tria and her friend.
Hilarity started to ensue, as we started chattering. Tria and her friend were very happy that this was actually going to work out, because it had been in question. Tria related how it was actually thanks to my sharing the tale of my adventures after RHPS on Halloween that she remembered to check transportation for the movie.
"Hey wait," her friend chimed in from the back seat. "You didn't remember that, I reminded you about transportation."
"Well, I was thinking about it!"
"I was still the one who said it first. And I was thinking about it because my friend got stuck in the city on Halloween after BART stopped running."
There was more good-natured squabbling, in which it turned out that her friend was in the city to see RHPS.
I commenced laughing. It was just too good to be true. Details emerged, and ... yes. The four giggling virgins who I'd assisted that night got to a diner and then got home safely. And one of them was new BFFs with Tria's friend.
"Text her!" Tria said. "Text her right now and tell her that you're in that lady's car AT THIS VERY INSTANT."
"And I'm wearing the same top!" I crowed, laughing so hard that the girls feared for my ability to find a parking spot safely. Sadly, Tria's friend did not have the number in her phone yet. We parked and headed in, and got pictures in front of the giant posters.
Instead of having interminable lines, they appeared to have shut down most of the rest of the theatre for the evening, so we were free to just go in and sit. So we sat. ( We entertained ourselves, then the Mysterious Ticking Noise. )
The movie was great fun. There were all sorts of things whispered back and forth, with particular attention to the Snatchers. I dropped the girls back at the dorm then went home.
My 4am review in IM, once I got back and got the worst of the sequins off me:
Movie good. ( Spoilers ahoy! )
If the landscapes do not bore you to tears as Harry, Hermione, and Ron are getting unhinged, I think you will like.
The rest of the 19th: Slept. Walked with aunt and poodle on oceanfront promenade (rain). Found missing backup drive.
54 tweets for 2010-12-18
Dec. 18th, 2010 11:55 pmIn the last 24 hours, I posted the following to Twitter:
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- Saturday, 0019: Hah, I see that comments appear to be disabled here now. http://blog.delicious.com/blog/2010/12/whats-next-for-delicious.html
- Saturday, 0103: hd_holidays: Title: Five Times Draco Malfoy Got Sacked (And One Time He Didn't) http://t.co/yqZKzFk via @Diigo
- Saturday, 0119: *snerk* RT: @google: As you head home for the holidays, consider taking time to teach parents tech: http://teachparentstech.org
- Saturday, 0159: fucking seize it: http://www.jerkcity.com/jerkcity4403.html
- Saturday, 0209: @trialia Hahaha*haha*ha. ( read the other 49 )
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