Automaton
Every day at the assembly line, placing the head of the doll on the body. She likes it here, where you don’t have to remember anything. Not talking, so she can keep her thoughts to herself. She likes it. She does. She’s grateful for the money. Until she hears the manager talk about replacing unit 3B. 3B? That’s her.
TT: New Monitor
My old computer monitor died about a couple of weeks ago. It has always been a little iffy, but it went right in to “this screen will never show anything more that a gray flicker” mode and no amount of whacking would fix it. I had to get a new one.
1. My new monitor is 18.5″. The old one was 14″. I didn’t care much at the time I bought it, but I’m noticing the difference.
2. I’m the kind of person who keeps half a dozen windows open all the time. Finally my desk top is big enough to show most of them. Well, more of them anyway.
3. Movies are more fun.
4. But the computer doesn’t run any faster than it ever did. Don’t know why I keep thinking it should.
5. It was expensive.
6. As I was leaving Wal-Mart with it (yeah, I know, but they really did have the best price in town) the “greeter” made us stop and show the receipt. She oohed and aahed over how “cheap” it was. Uh… yeah.
7. I almost bought a whole new system instead through ebay. It was cheaper.
8. Except it turned out to not be new, but “refurbished.”
9. And I would have had to wait days for it to arrive.
10. And I couldn’t wait days. NaNo was about to start!
11. Turns out I think more clearly when I”m sitting at my desk than when I’m lounging with my laptop.
12. But I don’t write any faster.
13. How big is your screen?
I was going to do one with a two-headed giraffe, but it will have to wait until next week.
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By George! The King is Dead. Time to Party!
AUTHORS NOTE: I know I said this would be the last George blog, but I lied. My summing up will have to wait until next week because I haven’t dealt with His Majesties funeral or anything! My bad. 🙁
Said The Times of his Majesties passing:
“There never was an individual less regretted by his fellow creatures than the deceased King. What eye has wept for him? What heart has heaved one throb of unmercenary sorrow?…For the Leviathan of the haute ton, George IV, if ever he had a friend -a devoted friend from any rank of life- we protest that the name of him has never reached us.”
(more…)
How do you sleep?
I mean, what side do you sleep on?
I have a friend whose doctor told her not to sleep on her left side anymore. From now on she has to sleep on the right. I’ve been doing something like that for years now, along with sleeping on a rolled up towel for a pillow (chiropractor’s orders). All this time I thought I was just weird. Now I’m thinking it might be fairly common.
Do you sleep any particular way? Have you had to change the way you sleep for any particular reason? I’d really like to know.
113/365 Fall Foliage?
Around there this is year round foliage. Nothing says “Mountain West” to me faster than a pine-needle strewn path.
Find Gene’s Father’s Name
I went to my first ever live NaNo event this Sunday. Imagine a score of people sitting at a long table, all writing. That was it. No conversation, no joking, the only sound the clatter of keyboards, the scritch of pens on paper, and the rustle of snack wrappers. It was great!
In an hour and a half (I was late arriving) I managed to eek out as many words as I’d done all day the day before. They aren’t going to show up on that NaNo meter at the bottom of my sidebar, though, because it was all outline. Still, I count it a significant step in my writing efforts because now I have some clue as to where I’m going with this story. Don’t know why my attempt to outline before failed, but I’m really glad to have what I do now.
In the process I made a discovery. I don’t know the name of one of my characters.
I could swear I gave Gene’s father a first name. Of course his last name is Thomas, the same as Gene, but I can’t remember his first name, it isn’t in the spreadsheet where I try to keep track of that stuff, and I couldn’t find it when I went digging through the archives for it. Maybe I’m misremembering, and never posted anything in which he has a first name. And no, I don’t count “Dad” or “Gene’s Dad” or any other such title.
A lot of the episodes of Suzie’s House are written minutes before I post. There are (shudder) spelling errors all over the place. Yet, I have been quite proud of having picked up loose threads as I go. For instance, there’s a bit in there where Miranda has a bad encounter with the employees of video store. I picked up the thread on that several months later. There are a couple of mentions in the first three or four installments of Suzie’s House that I follow through on in Moving In. I try hard not to leave you hanging. But maybe I’m deluding myself.
I really, really don’t want to give the man a whole new name then some day have a reader going through my archives point out I got it wrong. So, I’ll make you a bet. I bet $100 that you can’t find a first name for Gene’s father in my Suzie’s House archives. Be the first to leave a comment about it on any post in which his first name appears and you win. The offer is good for at least two weeks. I’ll update here if either someone finds it, or it’s been way too long with no one even trying, and I withdraw the offer.
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Kielbasa Soup
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1/2 of kielbasa sausage
1 c red bean, pre-cooked
several small carrots
1/3 c sliced onion
1/4 c frozen corn kernels
1/2 c frozen okra
1/2 tsp salt
seasoning
A Visit to the Vet
Jack: Gin! Tonic! Come on, it’s time to go! Get your collars on, we’re going to see the vet.
Jack: What’s with you two? Don’t you want to go?
Jack: Oh, I get it. You think I meant the veterinarian. No, I mean my friend, the veteran. There he is now.
Today’s theme is Veteran or Military
Previously in Jack and Jill Bag Lady
Saturday photo scavenger hunt
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Suzie’s House 138: A Small Explosion
“Right.” Gene repeated to himself as the door closed on Mrs. Hammacker and Mr. Banks “Right. I’ll just… wander around like a ghost until you’re good and ready to talk to me. Yeeeeah.”
He went down the hall to Ben’s bedroom, feeling like raw hamburger. He was so messed up about how Mrs. Hammacker yelled at him, that he forgot about Ben and Lisa until he got there.
There they were, shoulder to shoulder, leaning over Ben’s desk. She laughed the way some girls do when they like a guy but are afraid to say so. Gene backed up fast, but not fast enough.
