Ahhhhh…. I got the QC job. The boss was surprised that I was on pins an needles. “We knew for a couple of weeks,” he said. “We’re just waiting for HR to catch up.” And the apartment is a go. And the procedures are done. The chica in charge of them called me to thank […]

Story updates. I haven’t accomplished much on the story in the last two months, but the last couple of weeks have been interesting. I’m going through each character and working out more of the details, more of the plot on an individual basis. First, I go through the story and write down everything I run

Ironic. The same people who didn’t hire me for either a tech writing or a newsletter/communications position volunteered me to work on a departmental newsletter. “Can’t think of anybody else who could do it,” they said. Still waiting on the new QC job.

Abortion. This is an article who was unable, for a week, to get a D&E abortion (dialation and extraction). She was bleeding. The baby was nineteen weeks old. And dead. via ***Dave. I’m proud to have had my daughter in a country where abortion is legal. On those days when I hate being a parent,

Word of the Day. Antipodes: “People who live on the opposite side of the globe and, of course, whose feet are directly opposite to ours.” –Rev. John Boag’s Imperial Lexicon…of every word usually employed in science, literature, and art, c 1850 –From Jeffrey Kacirk, Forgotten English Daily Calendar 2004.

Spielberg. The coffee shop was frikken deserted on Sunday night. Deserted. Lots of other places for these to bobos to sit than six feet away from me. Girl: About twenty two, works at a pet store, long brown hair. Boy: Just turned thirty, still going to school, looks and sounds like a younger, taller version

Cookies. Ray’s sitting on my lap. One cookie says to the other cookie (both of which have a big, semi-circular bite of them): Cookie 1: What happened to your head? Cookie 2: That one eat me. Cookie 1: Spiders! Cookie 2: Aaugh!

Just let yourself fit in. This is one of those more introspective posts. I’ve been reading The French Lieutenant’s Woman. The setting is Victorian England. Anyway, there’s a scene where Sarah, the epononymous character, reveals that she slept with the French Lieutenant and why: She was a governess for two children whose mother was her

Oh Raaaaaaaaaandyyyyyyyyyy… Arch-swindler Moist Van Lipwig never believed his confidence crimes were hanging offenses — until he found himself with a noose tightly around his neck, dropping through a trapdoor, and falling into . . . a government job? By all rights, Moist should have met his maker. Instead, it’s Lord Vetinari, supreme ruler of

Dang it. As Lee left for work, I told him I was going to do some calling around about places to live. “Don’t sign anything without letting me see it first,” he said. Damn it. The first one I looked at is just what I want.