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Would you live in the perfect house or apartment rent-free if you found out a brutal murder had taken place there and it was rumored to be haunted? Why or why not?

Sho.  I would live in that house.  I am, after all, a GODLESS ATHEIST.  That's the thing where you don't believe in ghosts n' shit, right?



It's funny how you can finally get your outside life in order, and yet on the inside it feels like a tornado has fucking gutted you.

All it takes is one person to do that to you.  The only condition is that you have to give a damn about them.  They have to be someone that you love, or else they don't have that kind of power.

It feels like none of that scraping and pushing, none of that hanging in there, even means anything now.  What's the point of succeeding when that person has given up on you?  I feel like I prevailed for nothing; being the last man standing doesn't mean shit.

Just.  Just fuck everything.

No, I'm not sorry for all this emotional bullshit that I'm spewing, but yes, it sucks that I felt the need to dump it all on you, reader.  I just literally have no one to talk to about this--especially now.  But you wanted something lulzy, right?  Here:


Writer's Block: How could you?

Would you ever take someone back after they cheated on you, and why? What could change your mind?

No.  Fuck that guy.



This week is going to be interesting.

Oh--and I have a tumblr now.  No idea what I'm doing here.  Follow me and I'll follow you back.



I just got back from a gaming convention, and I have an open letter I'd like to share with you cool dudes!  Ahem...

Dear [Homophobic GM],

Shut up about The Gays.  Shut up about transmen, and how ugly or scary they look to you.  I really don't want to hear about how hideous so-and-so looks in a dress, or how you just can't understand how someone could possibly feel uncomfortable in their own body.  Yeah, I don't know what that feels like either--I'm a straight female.  I don't claim to be the voice of everyone who's ever questioned their sexuality or their gender, but you know what?  Just because you don't empathize with someone's troubles, or agree with their opinions and convictions, doesn't mean that you should broadcast your discomfort and revulsion.  Do you even know what you sound like when you do that?!  Frankly, you should be ashamed.

It's gotten to the point that you won't even let people role play as other genders because they don't "do it right," because it disturbs you.  How the living fuck did you get to be the arbiter of how to correctly represent a gender, and how, for the love of god, can I get you fired? 

You might be wondering why I'm so upset about this.  Is it because I have an emotional investment in the issue?  Is it because of what happened to [mutual former friend] when he was outed?  Is it because I'm one of those silly health-obsessed "liberals" that you like to poke fun at?  I'd explain, but I don't think you'd really hear what I'm saying.*

You're my friend, or so I think.  I should be able to say these things to you.  It's difficult when we have less and less in common as time goes on.  You go ahead and think that you're just fine, and I'll continue to question everything that you hold to be true and self-evident--everything that I tried to believe.  I still love you, but let us never speak of the matter again.

Your pal,

*HINT: It's because homosexuals and the transgendered, like atheists, are looked down upon and feared by just about everyone who's been a part of my life.  That's what I get for growing up in a church, I guess.  It just pisses me off is all.  Why do people like her feel so disgusted by the transgendered?  Because they're different, and "different" scares them, even when they're pretending to be "different" themselves.

I think I need to find some new friends.


Post-Grad Life

It's a little scary, and it's only been one week.  First of all, I'm pretty much scared that I'll never find a real, honest-to-god, full-time job.  The economy still sucks from what I hear (been too busy reading about dead guys to pay attention to the living ones, as usual), and anyway, who's going to want to hire a Fiction Writing major???  Ugh--I still want to go back in time and kick my ass for going to a fucking art school!

Except not really.  I'd be the suckiest writer without Columbia, and no one can be blamed for not being able to see the future.  I knew I'd have a tougher time finding good work than your typical IT major or engineer, but guess what?  Even my stupid cousin--the one who went to Purdue and got an engineering degree--is living with Mommy and Daddy last I heard.  His younger brother?  Another follow-your-dreams art student like me.  He quit his shit-box phone kiosk job recently because he just couldn't take it.  'Sup cuz--I did something along those lines last year!  No, I have plenty of reasons to be ashamed of myself, but trying to follow my dreams should never be one of them!  Unless my dream was genocidal, but that's another story...

But yeah, it's tough when you look around, and you no longer have the self-assured attitude found in the religion that I left behind.  "God is in control" is what I was always taught to quell my fears, whether they were real or perceived.  Looking back, I'm not sure why God's plan was supposed to be a comforting thought, because by all accounts he is a shitty planner.  I'd rather be lost and confused and know that I'm lost and confused, instead of being so sure that everything is fine.  Fuck the illusion, bring on oblivion!  And other fresh-out-of-the-flock-isms.

Anyway, do any of you grown-ups out there have advice for me?  I was thinking of taking a few classes on web design at the community college--just a little something to put on my resume.  Or maybe a Cisco Networking certification?  I DON'T KNOW!!!  Any advice or plain old words--practical or otherwise--would be helpful.

EDIT I forgot to tell you that I have a shitty tumblr now!  Go visit The Beast Not Found in Verse when you have a minute. :D  I'll update it--I promise!



Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

In June I put gum in dezembered 's hair (-12 points). Last Saturday nymeria_snow and I donated clothes to the needy (11 points). Last Tuesday I pulled over and changed withloveonly 's flat tire (15 points). In May I gave change to a homeless guy (19 points). Last Sunday I turned chain_home_low in for eating carbs (3 points).

Overall, I've been nice (36 points). For Christmas I deserve an XBox 360!


Write your letter to Santa! Enter your LJ username:

  This is libel!  Libel and slander!!  I've done nothing but my absolute damndest to be an unlikeable asshole this year, and a sociopath to boot.  Does no one appreciate my hard work?  Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one trying to instill a little fear and mayhem around here.


Anyway, my undergrad studies are pretty much over for the rest of my life, and I get the vague impression that some of my family members are silently hoping that I'll stay out of school forever now and go "have a real life."  HA!  Boy oh boy, they've got another thing coming!  Anyway, if you're reading this, I hope your semester is over and that it didn't suck, and that your professors didn't screw you over in an ego-induced fit of insanity.

Man, I need to shower. :C

Writer's Block: You're my best friend

Who was your best childhood friend, and where are they now?

Her name was Jessica, and hell if I know.


Ugh. You Guys.

This isn't a dead account yet, don't you worry.  No sir, the well of unending self-loathing and whining has not run dry, nor has the gastronomical eccentricity.  I'm just struggling to produce something of worth for my last semester at art school, and am greatly afraid for my future.

Perhaps it's time to go for quantity instead of quality--I don't know.

Anyway, I'll try to put up another cooking journal.  The two dudes I actually talk to on here--heavymetaljaq  and heysawbones --you guys know you're awesome, and if you don't, then let me tell you that you are.  I love reading your journals; even when you're angry about something, reading what you write makes me feel a little more human, and less like a creepy recluse. 

The rest of you, the ones I don't talk to as much, I love you too.  You guys are pretty neato.  Even you, weird Russian spam-bot.

Oh lord, this sounds like a suicide note, doesn't it? Ha ha ha!  Anyway, I better get back to my fruitless endeavors.  I'll talk to you all when I'm done with the semester.  That'll be a couple weeks from now.  I hope you're all doing okay.  Drop me a line sometime! :)

Another Cooking Entry???

Yep.  I haven't done one of these in a while, and I really don't know what to say about my life/current events right now without sounding like a whiny douche.  So here, have a recipe.  (But it's not vegan-friendly--sorry.)


There you have it.  'Til next time, kids! :D


Oh. Man.

I said I wouldn't do this, that I was over with Pokemon. I was through wasting my money, and done feeling like Chris-chan every time I'd walk past all the FPS's and shit to pick up a brightly-colored game about collecting cute animals and engaging in Disneyed-up cockfights, but this lineup is too much to resist...

I regret nothing. Don't judge me!

Wait, what am I so worried about?  This is the internet, bitches are all playing Pokemon up here, even though they're adults...  Never mind, disregard the previous!  Aaaaaaaaaaanyway, I know a certain someone who will be unable to say no to those Yorkie Pokemon--maybe I can pull her down into all this child-sized depravity with me!  Hooray for friends!  \(゜ワ゜ )/ 

I can see that they really went all-out on the vendor-trash this time around.  They even have a fucking Zubat analogue (an ugly one at that), along side the usual rat and pigeon that we will all invariably come to hate (unless you love them ironically, as happened with Bidoof, but fuck you man).  Did they even bother making a Zubat type for Sinnoh?  I cannot remember for the life of me.  Whatever.

Either way, you win again, Nintendo.  Now to get some damn homework done...


What kind of craft would you design to travel through time and space? How would it work? What would it look like?

Ha, I already beat you to it!  The Ford Cockatrice has a special "collapse universe" button which renders time and space nonexistent, removing all those silly obstacles that stand in the way of you buying a cheeseburger twenty years ago.


A problem I'm running into with writing about a 17th-century man is that they were all raised to be sexist and racist, particularly if they're noblemen.

There is nothing "other" about my main character, at least in the beginning.  Obviously, his temporal displacement, his sudden dependence on others, and his burgeoning madness do eventually separate him from your average white, well-to-do male, but would this be enough to instill a sense of empathy and... uhhh, fairness in a man who's normally self-centered and, while well-meaning, pretty insensitive to others?  Would he even perceive his situation as making him less than what he once thought himself to be?  Of course, this character never thought much of himself in the first place, and his peers and betters thought very, very little of him.  He's somewhat enlightened compared to his contemporaries, and he likes to think that he's courteous to everyone (to their face, anyway), but in our world he would obviously have a lot of growing up to do, regardless of what he says!

"Some of my best friends are Protestants!"  he would say.  Okay, he wouldn't literally say that, but still... given how his own peers have humbled him from day one, he isn't the sort of person to actively state his superiority to this or that person.

Thing is, I don't really want this to become a central theme in my novel.  I want it to be there, and I want this to be a visible problem, because I'm going for realism (in a fantasy novel, ha ha ha).  I don't want him to have or to develop some artificial sense of equality or modern social mores that simply wouldn't develop in someone of his beliefs and upbringing, but neither do I want him to be a younger version of Archie Bunker in my readers' minds.  Racism is the one of the most heated topics nowadays, and it's on many people's minds, whether they want it to be or not.  A lot of people have very strong feelings on the matter, so if someone who was raised to be racist and sexist is presented to them, that will color their view not only of him (which isn't so important), but of the entire work (very important, as we shall see). 

When they see this character who doesn't trust Jews, and is surprised and maybe a little dismayed to see nonwhites and females on (somewhat) equal footing with white males, readers will expect him to receive comeuppance, or a big huge life-lesson on treating everyone equally, or whatever.  When this doesn't explicitly happen (which it usually doesn't, by the way, in real life), readers might be inclined to think that I'm not taking this seriously, or that I'm playing off his racism and sexism for cheap laughs, or, worst-case scenario, they think that I endorse this kind of backward thinking.

Not true, obviously.  But what am I going to do?!  This isn't Pocahontas--this isn't about painting with all the colors of the wind, it's a novel about sorcery and the corruption of the human soul!  Am I just over-thinking this, or is too much research about the 17th-century mindset going to come back and bite me in the ass?

I don't know, maybe I'm still getting it all wrong...

(also posted to DA, for all that tartlet goodness...)


Writer's Block: Help, I need somebody!

Do you think you would you risk your life to save a stranger? Would it make a difference if it were an elderly person or a child? What about a neighbor's dog or cat?

I was downtown with some friends of mine.  We were getting on the Red Line at Harrison.  There was a fight happening on the platform--one woman was viciously attacking the other.  I froze by the stairway as the woman landed one last punch on her victim's face, and watched as the attacker ran past me to the exit.  The other woman was on the ground, screaming for help, begging someone to stop her.

I didn't do a thing.  None of my friends said a word.

That was nearly four years ago.  I still feel a deep sense of shame and cowardice when I think about it.


The Breaking Point

I've reached it.  And guess what broke?  NOT ME!

Well maybe a little.  But who cares?  I came out of this ridiculous writer's block as the victor, and I haven't gnawed my own hands off, and fuck it all, I'm going to just write my stupid manuscript without a single thought as to how shitty it all comes out because you know what?  That's what first drafts are for!  HA!!

Of course, everyone on the planet knows this already.  As usual, I am late to the party, and dressed inappropriately.  Oh well!  Off to do some more fantastic writing--and to meet the August 30th deadline with all 53,000 words of my manuscript, and then some.

Yeah, I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but I've been doing this Summer Novelist's Club thing.  All the other kiddies were doing it, and I knew I was going to go through some serious academia-withdrawal in the time between semesters, so this SNC thing was a good opportunity for a) not slacking off all summer, and b) keeping a shut-in like me in touch with her beloved peers and professors.  It's done alright so far; not only have I stuck to the program best I could, but I even exchanged recipes with my old Fantasy Writing prof.  It's a delicious pie recipe, too, one that involves blackberries and sweet, sweet Chambord...

I'm going to just stop this entry now.  I'll be back to update you guys on my slow, awkward descent into madness.  Bye!

And just what the Hell is in this "dream tea," God damn...