three (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
threeplusfire) wrote2013-12-07 11:10 am
threeplusfire) wrote2013-12-07 11:10 am
so many things, I can't think where to start
I need to finish my latest stack of library books so I can start reading the ones I received from the Yuletide swap. They both look amazing. Ecko Rising by Daniel Ware looks like the cyberpunk thriller I enjoy and Trumpet: A Novel looks like one of those peculiar portrait novels I love to find. Ahh Yuletide. You always bring me such joy.
I should also get cracking on that Yuletide story and just finish the thing. I think I know where I'm going with it. Sometimes I have to wait to dream about it.
A friend of mine sold a novel, because she's an amazing writer and far more dedicated to the process of putting that stuff out there than I have ever been. I'm ecstatic for her, and the tiniest bit jealous. I am completely aware that this bit of jealousy is only because at heart I'm lazy and slothful and terrified. I think though, that if I get to keep this job I have now I might actually write more and maybe I'll finish something worth showing to someone else.
Speaking of work, a friend commented that I seem happier at this job than I've ever been anywhere. It's true. It's part time manual labor with no responsibilities. It's like that moment in Office Space where he's talking about becoming a construction worker. There's a kind of freedom and peacefulness for me in this job. I open boxes. I carry boxes. I empty boxes of stuff and break the boxes down before I chuck them into a recycling dumpster. The other day my boss even encouraged me to smash something just for fun. The people are very nice, the hours are bearable, the location is close to home, it gets me up and moving. I don't worry about anything at all while I'm working because I'm busy. As a further bonus, my boss immediately tracked on the gender thing and makes a point of calling me by the correct name and pronoun. I really couldn't have asked for a better thing. I hope they want to keep me on after the holidays.
Someone made a snide comment about what a great use of my university degree this job is recently. The answer to that is "Fuck you." I am not defined by my job and I don't owe the universe anything just because I got a degree. If I want to work as a box smashing inventory guy, then I will.
Right now it is actually freezing outside. No snow, but brutally cold. So of course, a great time to shave my head. I have a bit of a cold and I'm trying to quit smoking. It is a weird time.
I fucking love December, because I love Christmas trees and cold and hot drinks and spices. I made fudge last night and despite a colossal cock up in the kitchen with my ingredients it came out okay. Got a new (totally free from work) dessert book and I'm trying out recipes.
My father is still dead and I don't know what to do about that.
I should also get cracking on that Yuletide story and just finish the thing. I think I know where I'm going with it. Sometimes I have to wait to dream about it.
A friend of mine sold a novel, because she's an amazing writer and far more dedicated to the process of putting that stuff out there than I have ever been. I'm ecstatic for her, and the tiniest bit jealous. I am completely aware that this bit of jealousy is only because at heart I'm lazy and slothful and terrified. I think though, that if I get to keep this job I have now I might actually write more and maybe I'll finish something worth showing to someone else.
Speaking of work, a friend commented that I seem happier at this job than I've ever been anywhere. It's true. It's part time manual labor with no responsibilities. It's like that moment in Office Space where he's talking about becoming a construction worker. There's a kind of freedom and peacefulness for me in this job. I open boxes. I carry boxes. I empty boxes of stuff and break the boxes down before I chuck them into a recycling dumpster. The other day my boss even encouraged me to smash something just for fun. The people are very nice, the hours are bearable, the location is close to home, it gets me up and moving. I don't worry about anything at all while I'm working because I'm busy. As a further bonus, my boss immediately tracked on the gender thing and makes a point of calling me by the correct name and pronoun. I really couldn't have asked for a better thing. I hope they want to keep me on after the holidays.
Someone made a snide comment about what a great use of my university degree this job is recently. The answer to that is "Fuck you." I am not defined by my job and I don't owe the universe anything just because I got a degree. If I want to work as a box smashing inventory guy, then I will.
Right now it is actually freezing outside. No snow, but brutally cold. So of course, a great time to shave my head. I have a bit of a cold and I'm trying to quit smoking. It is a weird time.
I fucking love December, because I love Christmas trees and cold and hot drinks and spices. I made fudge last night and despite a colossal cock up in the kitchen with my ingredients it came out okay. Got a new (totally free from work) dessert book and I'm trying out recipes.
My father is still dead and I don't know what to do about that.
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Making them isn't hard, at least not the cake and filling stacking parts, but if you want to dribble icing all over them, getting a nice coat definitely takes practice. I asked the teacher if she was really sure that what we were using was the consistency she wanted, and it was, but imho it produced way too thick an icing vs the proportion of cake. I like her idea for making a lot of them as gifts better... assemble the layers in a sheet tray or baking dish, then pour/spread icing as just the top layer. Sides won't be covered so they'll stale faster, but otoh you'll get to see the pretty layers and the balance of icing to cake is much better.
Oh, man. I am a FrostIron girl all the way, and I have lots of favorite stories. I would also love to bitch to someone about the Steve/Tony story that made me hate Steve, that pairing, and humanity in general, because OMG WTF was that author thinking? The only story I've ever refused to finish reading, and I read some terrible, half illiterate HP on the pit of voles back in the day.
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