2012-01-29 13:27![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldisciplinedigitaldiscipline.tumblr.com - one scintillating entry thus far, feel free to follow if that's your thing.
Arguably, I could claim it's to "protect and grow my brand" or some shit. Maybe it'll get some kind of traction if I ever find/make time to post to it, but what's more likely is that it'll collect cobwebs until and unless I figure out how to get my blog posts to my wordpress blog to crosspost there... not that I'm writing those more than once or twice a month, either, but at some point Real Soon Now, I'm hoping to find free time that isn't spent like a limp sack of shit, recovering from life.
Speaking of writing... while I started the year off well with Cara Michaels' #WIP500 challenge (the object being to write 500 words a day on some project or other), that's fallen by the wayside due to its lack of priority in my life. I have rekindled a bit of that aspect of things by participating, as both a writer and judge, in some weekly flash fiction contests, and I'm having a sit-down with AJ Aalto, who wrote a gloriously silly vampire/horror/not!romance debut novel called Touched next week about some sort of potential sci-fi collaboration. If you're a Kindle person, I understand her book's available in that format, and not simply the dead tree edition. She also commits entertaining bloggery, which I have been known to stage dramatic readings of to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cassandrasimplx via Skype.
The other thing that's happening Tuesday is that I'm taking a thousand-dollar personal mental health day, which is to say, "I am taking the day off because I got a goddamned twelve-hour delivery window for the new refrigerator I had to buy when mine died a few days ago." The only positives to come out of this, other than, "Hey, new refrigerator! I hope I get to keep the gigantic box to play in and build a Transmogrification Machine!" was the discovery that 1. My two coolers are fucking amazing (other than the all-Styrofoam one sweating condensation, they both still have ice after four days, and internal temps between 36 and 44 degrees) and 2. I simply don't keep a lot of perishable stuff that isn't dead animal flesh.
Speaking of flesh (we both know you come here for my clever use of the word "fuck," not my scintillating segues, so don't give me that look), after my first week of Crossfit and the new workout regimen, holy fuck am I sore, but results are beginning to be seen - there's something that may, under certain lighting conditions, be one of my obliques, and I was able to go down a notch on my weight belt (not to mention squatting a nontrivial-for-me weight for a handful of reps without any belt whatsoever at the Crossfit gym on Thursday? Friday? One of those days).
Similarly, it was "make the straight women and gay men happy to have eyes" day at the supermarket - the local fire department dudes were apparently all shopping at the same time (I needed more ice, cat food, dark chocolate, oat bran, honey, and Ben Gay; I failed to discern what the FD dudes were picking up). As I said to a friend else-web, "If tall, young, good-looking, and well-built is your thing, these guys were definitely your thing. They were almost stereotypically handsome, to the point where I was nearly compelled to ask, 'So, exactly how many women give you their phone numbers spontaneously?'"
[We adjourn for brief interruption at the sound of sticks and leaves rustling in a way that sounds nothing like the wind or copulating feline antics.]
Sorry about that. I just had occasion to, not in so many words[1], say, "Hey, you kid, get off my lawn."
[1] I didn't actually say anything; I simply made eye contact, which let the trespasser know that 1. they'd been seen, and 2. they were not welcome to remain. I have since secured the gap in my fence that the young gentleman in question used for ingress/egress, as well as piled up a non-trivial amount of very loud dead foliage against the backside of it. I would have been interested to see what the fuck he thought he was going to do in my yard, since there's no other access point; the only things that aren't secured that he could have walked off with through that gap are a couple of shovels and the truck tire I work out with, unless he has an unhealthy fondness for weatherbeaten Styrofoam sheeting and used garden trellis.
Arguably, I could claim it's to "protect and grow my brand" or some shit. Maybe it'll get some kind of traction if I ever find/make time to post to it, but what's more likely is that it'll collect cobwebs until and unless I figure out how to get my blog posts to my wordpress blog to crosspost there... not that I'm writing those more than once or twice a month, either, but at some point Real Soon Now, I'm hoping to find free time that isn't spent like a limp sack of shit, recovering from life.
Speaking of writing... while I started the year off well with Cara Michaels' #WIP500 challenge (the object being to write 500 words a day on some project or other), that's fallen by the wayside due to its lack of priority in my life. I have rekindled a bit of that aspect of things by participating, as both a writer and judge, in some weekly flash fiction contests, and I'm having a sit-down with AJ Aalto, who wrote a gloriously silly vampire/horror/not!romance debut novel called Touched next week about some sort of potential sci-fi collaboration. If you're a Kindle person, I understand her book's available in that format, and not simply the dead tree edition. She also commits entertaining bloggery, which I have been known to stage dramatic readings of to
cassandrasimplx via Skype.The other thing that's happening Tuesday is that I'm taking a thousand-dollar personal mental health day, which is to say, "I am taking the day off because I got a goddamned twelve-hour delivery window for the new refrigerator I had to buy when mine died a few days ago." The only positives to come out of this, other than, "Hey, new refrigerator! I hope I get to keep the gigantic box to play in and build a Transmogrification Machine!" was the discovery that 1. My two coolers are fucking amazing (other than the all-Styrofoam one sweating condensation, they both still have ice after four days, and internal temps between 36 and 44 degrees) and 2. I simply don't keep a lot of perishable stuff that isn't dead animal flesh.
Speaking of flesh (we both know you come here for my clever use of the word "fuck," not my scintillating segues, so don't give me that look), after my first week of Crossfit and the new workout regimen, holy fuck am I sore, but results are beginning to be seen - there's something that may, under certain lighting conditions, be one of my obliques, and I was able to go down a notch on my weight belt (not to mention squatting a nontrivial-for-me weight for a handful of reps without any belt whatsoever at the Crossfit gym on Thursday? Friday? One of those days).
Similarly, it was "make the straight women and gay men happy to have eyes" day at the supermarket - the local fire department dudes were apparently all shopping at the same time (I needed more ice, cat food, dark chocolate, oat bran, honey, and Ben Gay; I failed to discern what the FD dudes were picking up). As I said to a friend else-web, "If tall, young, good-looking, and well-built is your thing, these guys were definitely your thing. They were almost stereotypically handsome, to the point where I was nearly compelled to ask, 'So, exactly how many women give you their phone numbers spontaneously?'"
[We adjourn for brief interruption at the sound of sticks and leaves rustling in a way that sounds nothing like the wind or copulating feline antics.]
Sorry about that. I just had occasion to, not in so many words[1], say, "Hey, you kid, get off my lawn."
[1] I didn't actually say anything; I simply made eye contact, which let the trespasser know that 1. they'd been seen, and 2. they were not welcome to remain. I have since secured the gap in my fence that the young gentleman in question used for ingress/egress, as well as piled up a non-trivial amount of very loud dead foliage against the backside of it. I would have been interested to see what the fuck he thought he was going to do in my yard, since there's no other access point; the only things that aren't secured that he could have walked off with through that gap are a couple of shovels and the truck tire I work out with, unless he has an unhealthy fondness for weatherbeaten Styrofoam sheeting and used garden trellis.
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You. Are. Awesome.
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