violsva: Geoffrey Tennant, offering a skull (have a skull)
Went to library
Bought groceries
Researched alternate employment, sort of
Edited a lot of things

Last part of Arte Regendus is now over 12000 words and honestly almost done, yay. And i am having ideas and it's rather nice. Even if I'm also clearly still sick.

Yuletide!

Dec. 26th, 2013 02:56 pm
violsva: full bookshelf with ladder (books)
I got a Lady's Not For Burning fic and oh, it's wonderful. Accessory After the Fact. Thomas Mendip's attitude toward life is enough like mine at the moment that it was lovely to get an exploration of it partially changing.

I also wrote 9 Yuletide fics, which seems like a lot, but 8 of them are only 100 words long. Way too much fun, like I said. And they appear to be well-received, which is lovely.

There isn't much, other than that. It's been a very nice Christmas so far, but there's still Christmas with my dad and my sister and my grandparents and [personal profile] knumpify to go (I grew up with divorced parents. I'm used to multiple Christmases). My mom's internet hasn't been working properly since the ice storm, so I spent yesterday running down my tablet battery and my brother's data plan reading Yuletide fic while Toronto worked on making "White Christmas" an understatement. And then my brother made me watch what is allegedly one of the worst X-File episodes ever (evil trees!). Very nice.

(Much nicer: I get this week off work and I'm only in three days next week. Ack, I used to like work.)

And now I really do need to leave for Dad's.
violsva: Sidney Paget illustration of Holmes and Watson, seated, with the caption "Cut out the poetry, Watson" (Holmes)
So Sunday I got the day off, which I wasn't expecting, and then we had a power outage. The ice was very pretty and I have lots of candles. It's back on now.

My anxiety has been up to 11 since about Wednesday, but there's not really anything I can do about that. Having the next week off work will definitely help.

I have been having Way Too Much Fun with Yuletide Drabbles. It's great.
violsva: Sidney Paget illustration of Holmes and Watson, seated, with the caption "Cut out the poetry, Watson" (Holmes)
I like writing out of order. You can write Holmes and Watson sneaking around and then a paragraph of making out and then more sneaking around later on, and it feels like the work is getting longer all by itself, rather than always being at the end of it and trying to figure out what happens next. I know what happens next, it's the bit that leads to that part I've already written.

The last chapter of this thing is going to make up for its lateness in length, my god. Nearly 9000 words and it just keeps going. But I think it should be good.

Now sleeeeep, and tomorrow more goddamn packing and then figuring out ordercup and windows 8.

I had an anxiety attack at work this morning, but I took an hour hiding in my boss's office and then kept working, which I guess is something to be proud of.

I so miss having a cat. No space, and my landlord wouldn't like it, and the poor thing would be alone at least nine hours a day.* But. Cat.


*My brother-in-law: "That's why you get two cats!"
violsva: Sidney Paget illustration of Holmes and Watson, seated, with the caption "Cut out the poetry, Watson" (Holmes)
I am having an anxiety upswing because of a lot of things but mostly work, and I spent today happy but with way too much nervous energy. But I have an apartment and my Yuletide assignment as it turns out is an awesome excuse to write the fic I've wanted to write about these characters for more than a year now, and tomorrow there will be steampunk. And tonight there is shortbread, by the following process:


Realize you are hungry. Look in fridge and cupboards. Realize that possibly it's time to go grocery shopping for real, rather than at the Shoppers on the corner.

Poke around on food blogs.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Remember that oven cooks hot and lower that a little.

Get out flour, butter, sugar, cinnamon, and a clementine (because why not, and even though you don't have a reamer it should be manageable).

Measure out half a cup of butter. Drop rest of butter on floor. Blaspheme.

Leave butter alone for a bit to get to room temp.

Add a cup of flour and a quarter cup of sugar and some cinnamon. Break up butter and make piecrust (that is, mash everything with the fork until it's a bunch of little crumbs, with the butter mostly evenly distributed. Or until your arm hurts enough that you say 'screw it' and stop anyway).*

Using another fork and your fingers, inexpertly juice clementine into a saucer until you have about 2 tablespoons or 1/8 cup. Swear never to tell [personal profile] knumpify about this.**

Mush everything together with your fingers. Fingers are necessary here, because the heat helps melt and distribute the rest of the butter. Press into a ball.

Flour the counter. Place dough on the flour. Flatten.

Cut into weird triangular shapes because you don't have any cookie cutters. Arrange on greased baking sheet. Place in oven. Set timer for ten minutes.

Place dishes in sink. Consider dishes. Consider timer. Clean up remaining ingredients and the flour.

Consider dishes. Wash dishes. Rejoice in virtue and the smell of baking cookies.

Take cookies out of oven. Poke. Consider golden brownness (should be very little, just around the edges). Maybe put them back in for two minutes. Leave tray on top of stove for a couple minutes.

Remove cookies to plate. Remove tray and spatula to sink, because the first rule of the kitchen is that there are always more dishes.

Eat.

Having tried them: the orange and cinnamon are more of a suggestion, but they're very good. Hard to go wrong with shortbread.



*This is more formally called 'cutting cold butter into flour' and it is one of the more irritating tasks in baking. People who do it regularly have pastry cutters, but they're hard to clean.
**[personal profile] knumpify reads this blog.
violsva: full bookshelf with ladder (books)
First of all:

Title: Fled Is That Music
Author: Violsva
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Rating: T
Warnings/Enticements: Slash, Drugs, Breakups, Pretentious Classical References
Word Count: 6282
Summary: John Watson’s long, weary process of realization, when Holmes is lost to visions and waking dreams.

At AO3.


Secondly, this is being typed in my new apartment. It's lovely and very large (for a bachelor, anyway), and a five minute walk from the subway. I like it. I don't like the WiFi connection (it's in a basement), but we'll figure something out.

I am going camping with my girlfriend this week, and after that I'm switching to full time at work - well, I was already full time, but now that will be reflected in my contract, and things are generally going well. The anxiety didn't like the move, but that should fade.

Moving

Jul. 27th, 2013 05:54 pm
violsva: Merida from Brave, with the text "Solve all your problems by turning your mother into a bear" (Merida bear)
I have not actually been reading DW or LJ for about a month or two now, because I have a full time job with a three hour total commute and then suddenly I got a social life as well. I can write on the subway, but by the time I get home I mostly just fall over.

So I am moving closer to work next week! Which is great, and I will have my own apartment, without even roommates, and it will be wonderful.

Except that I spend my weekdays packing boxes and dealing with logistics. And now on my weekends I need to pack boxes and deal with logistics. gaaahhh

Basically, I feel like I will be very happy and enjoying myself in a month, but right now not so much. But I really want to be living not-here, and it should fix most of my major difficulties.

And then I might have time to think about things other than how exhausted I am!
violsva: Merida from Brave, with the text "Solve all your problems by turning your mother into a bear" (Merida bear)
You think your job has cured you of anxiety about telephones and then you try to call people up about apartments. Ack. Keyword there being 'try' - I never actually got around to dialing. I'll try overpreparing and then calling tomorrow.

Otherwise I am fine and it's a pretty good day, but I am both anxious and frustrated about being anxious. Which is not conducive to fic editing, although I've already got quite a bit of that done.
violsva: Mulan squinting at a bowl of food (morning mulan)
12-4: Insomnia

4-8:30: Fever dreams

8:30-9:30: Staggering around, feeding the cat

9:30: Calling in to work

9:30-11:30: Sleep

11:30: Woken up by boss, who wants me to check something. It takes a full minute before I realize he didn't get my voicemail and thinks I'm at work.

11:30-4: http://xkcd.com/1157/

4: Explaining basics of new desktop shipping program to boss over phone

4-present: Griping


There has been something resembling writing going on as well, at least. I hope I'm better tomorrow, I want to go to work and this is unpleasant. And Monday will be hideous if I don't ship things tomorrow.

It's snowing outside. In mid-April. At least an inch.

But I have a date on Tuesday, and it involves poetry, and I will be better then. Or I damn well plan to be.

My brain, at least, is doing pretty well recently apart from the cold symptoms. No emotional nonsense. Ugh, sick.

Work

Mar. 27th, 2013 11:14 pm
violsva: Mulan squinting at a bowl of food (morning mulan)
My God do I need a long weekend right about now.
violsva: Sidney Paget illustration of Holmes and Watson, seated, with the caption "Cut out the poetry, Watson" (Holmes)
Goddammit, why isn't this chapter over yet?


(Work is now full time, plus three hours per day on the TTC. I may need to see my psych again soon. I don't have free time when she's in the office. Yay.)

(Wanted to go out dancing tonight but there's enough snow around to make that awkward. Also, last time I got far too much male attention, which is not what I'm looking for in a gay bar.)
violsva: Merida from Brave, with the text "Solve all your problems by turning your mother into a bear" (Merida bear)
First of all, this clown is but hopefully will soon no longer be my city councillor. Let there be much rejoicing. Rob Ford's audit later this month!

Secondly, I desperately need to live somewhere that isn't an hour and a half from my job. Insert random profanity into the preceding sentence as you prefer. Work would be better if Canada Post was a finely tuned perfectly oiled machine.

Thirdly, on the other hand I got more then 300 words on the way to work this morning. So things could be worse. But now I have to type it up.
violsva: Team Rocket cheering (yay)
So I now work for these people. The misspelling of "discreet" is not my fault and I have pointed it out.

Basically I pack things and unpack things and swear at the Canada Post website. There's less climbing around on shelves than there was at my old warehouse job, but it's lots of fun and I like it.

I wasn't quite expecting to like it this much. But there's a set formula with frequent variations and physical work and so far exactly no interacting with customers, and it's both not difficult and not boring. And they're nice people.

(If you're wondering - yes, they are used for what you think they're used for, and no, there are no drug paraphernalia laws in Canada. It was fun when Mom found out what exactly they were selling, though.

...and no, I don't, generally. But what other people do for fun is none of my business.)

The only downside is that it's all the way across the city, but it's right at a subway station and starts late enough that I don't have to get up at a hideous hour. And it's minimum wage, but I have worked worse minimum wage jobs. I'm still in the exhausted all the time phase, but that'll pass.

Still don't think it's enough to move out on, at least not yet. But really, I have had no panic attacks and nothing close to one at work in three weeks, during a really stressful while. It's great.

Elementary

Sep. 27th, 2012 11:12 pm
violsva: full bookshelf with ladder (books)
I think I like it.

First meeting isn't all that great as a thing, but after they're working it does go well.

Not sure how I feel about Holmes, but Watson is fantastic.

...I don't think I really have anything to say other than OMG Watson cracks the case they watch baseball it rocks eeeeeee. Not enough time to reflect.

I don't know if I like their Holmes, though. Maybe.

I haven't deliberately watched a TV show when it was scheduled since Dollhouse premiered (Dad was interested). Huh.


First week of work is always exhausting. It seems to be going well but I don't want to jinx it by talking about it.

Seeing siiiiiiiiiiister tomorrow, yay!
violsva: full bookshelf with ladder (books)
Very odd emotionally right now, when writing is going wonderfully but on the other hand I've been laid off.

My head is stuck entirely in Sherlock Holmes canon. It's moderately worrying. I'm having trouble reading anything else. I'm enjoying it, it just feels very strange and obsessive. I think I may have felt like this when I was thirteen and burying myself in Harry Potter because it was better than my life, but I can't really remember how I felt then. I'm sure there's nothing actually wrong with this.

Also, people keep getting shot and it's horrible.

So. Happy things. Street Pianos. Moon Photography.

Recording whether I've written anything each day: very good idea. Provides clear proof I have done something every day. Also motivational.
violsva: full bookshelf with ladder (Default)
It is possible your humble narrator would have an easier time finding things if she were to finish unpacking the things that have been sitting around in boxes for a year now.

On the other hand, then they'd all be packed up again and put in the basement because there isn't room here. And at some point I will be moving. Within a year. Almost definitely.

That's what I thought at this time last year too...

ETA: Also, today in sentences not to say in front of your niece, "Huh, the Agent of Satan is still in the closet." Knumpify, do you know about the Agent of Satan?
violsva: full bookshelf with ladder (Default)
I am currently working three jobs, which oddly is good for my (non-blog) writing although it means I haven't been rock climbing or to pottery in a month. Not so good for the anxiety, though that may be a hormone issue. Ugh.

Yet I make time for music festivals. A good show makes me so damn happy. It's great. A really good show, I just stand there grinning.

Like, say, Amos the Transparent. I'd never heard of them until Wednesday night. They're great live. It was awesome. So much fun. And they were having fun too.

Gus and Scout were also neat though not quite my thing. All quiet and soft and heart-wrenching.

Someone else came on after Amos the Transparent, but it was late and they weren't very good.

The Black Belles would have been really good if the club hadn't been packed. Very pretty, I think. Good music, judging by what I heard over conversations. Oh, well, that's what YouTube is for.

Die Mannequin do really really great live shows. That's how you do it. Still too shouty, though.

Apparently Toronto audiences are notorious for not dancing. Come on, local music scene, you can do better than that! (I'm horribly self conscious if I want to dance and the only other people dancing are a few people at the front.)


... Also, there's a Francophone Festival at the Harbourfront starting tomorrow.

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