Jonner has pink and blue and purple shirts and a pink and grey tie. He wants a bow tie too. Mudd has a purple shirt and a purple polo. Oli has amazing t shirts including a sugar skull Bettie Page and a colorful Mardi gras one. She also got a Kelly green polyester double knit pantsuit for Joker cosplay and I got David a pair of shoes since his loafers are shot.
I have apparently given birth to ugly triplets. I finished 3 books this summer.
One got a revise and resubmit letter...from the publishing house I own!
One got sent a Bad Literature Bingo card along with the suggestion that this turkey won the cover-all.
No word on the third.
Anyone want to have a gander and make suggestions for the plastic surgeon?
On a long drive we've been sorting ourself.
Zara- Tremere, Ravenclaw, Merizon
David-Salubre, Slytherin, Allurian halfblood
Mike, LaSombre, Hufflepuff, Anatralian
Hester-Ventrue, Hufflepuff, Cashalle/Allurian
Me- Assemite , Gryffendor, Mikaelian halfblood
Angel- Malkavian, currently in torpor but should come out the other side in better shape, Ravenclaw, Cashalle
Me doing pro author look
I hate when leg spasms wake me up.
Overheard: "it annoys them and the come faster." (Said of pushing the elevator button when it was already lit)
"Going down? Oh dammit."
Woman in starfleet uniform as she snuggled a belly dancer: "I like exploring strange new worlds"
Belly dancer: I like being explored."
Had some really excellent cheese in the con suite, visited with Edward and got oodles of hugs.
Busy day magically speaking.
Olivia talked me into going to the Looney Tunes rit. I was in a "not even getting out of my Jammies" mood.
But I got up, made tuna salad and brownies (one water, one earth) and we went.
She was ready to leave before the rit started. We stayed through it. While Duck Duck Goose was a brilliant way to pick the quarter callers and mad-lib quarters were fun, the rest of the rit left me cold.
Afterward, we left the food and headed home. I was frazzled. My energy didn't mix well.
I have theories on this.
So I came home. The menfolk had done the laundry (forgot the towels but got all the sheets!) so I made dinner and went to dry clothes.
There were about 4 episodes of Smallville in the mix, including one where Lex finds Clark on rte 8 in the middle of the night, but doesn't get him home until well after dawn.
I did some candle magic. We'd done up the herb mix a while back, and I melted down a couple of votive candles and mixed it in. Hope it works well.
Today, Chris had Linen Duty. He had to count sheets, pillows and pillowcases for the wash and after the wash. I think he had to fold them. And then he had to guard them.
I am pleased to report, he bravely held off an assault by the chaplain assistant.
"Join the army. Build Pillow Forts" was his text of the day.
I hear a call from the bathroom where my mother is showering. "I need some help in here." Mom is a leukemia patient, with arthritis and replaced knees. I am out of the chair in moments. Its only a minor crisis. "I took off my glasses and can't read which is shampoo and which is conditioner and they're both creamy." The best part: one was in a black bottle and one was in a white one.
Chris fell out of the bunk once (he was in the top bunk) . Seems Smith, in the lower bunk, had been platoon guide all week. Smith was a sleep-talker, and he was calling commands in his sleep. Chris was obeying them in his. And he fell out of bed on the about face.
When they make their bunks, they are to fold over exactly six inches of sheet. There were no rulers in the bay, so they improvised. One morning, Chris folded over WAY too much. The Sgt asked "Sparrow, what is this? You call this six inches?" "No rulers in the bay, sgt, so I used what came to hand, since it's an all male bay."
Chris was worried about snoring. My dad said, "son, there's an easy way to work on that. At lights out, lean over and kiss your snoring bunk mate right on the lips. You'll sleep fine because he won't fall asleep at all."
The winds were high in OK, and mom is frail. My dad made sure every time she got out that he was right there holding on to her. She suggested "You could tie rope around my ankle and fly me like a kite." Dad laughed. "Nope, I don't have anything to use for a tail to stabilize you."
The whole fam damily.
We're in Oklahoma. Yesterday was family day. There were soldiers whose families couldn't make it, so their buddies with family took them along. So I ended up with two extra kids, not an uncommon occurrence.
We went to lunch at Whataburger, visited an artillery museum and had dinner at Cracker Barrel. Watching the boys have a candy bar after 10 weeks was nearly voyueristic.
So pics of Chris:
Villa, Tucker and Sparrow.
That's not a cry you really want to wake up to.
For all the precautions about our pipes in the cold, it was today, in the upper 50s, when one broke. So, a call to the home warrantee company will have the plumber out tomorrow. And the city turned off the property's water for us so we could bail.
Get that done. Maybe get the kitchen appliances fixed and the duct work and the wiring and a drip pan for the A/C. We could have a real, working house again! Of course, we're going to have to rip out carpeting, but I can live with that.
I'm on dinner break at work. Won't be home until late.
I woke up sick after the cleaning yesterday. Not sure if cold or allergy. Wiped out and spent 5 hours driving a friend for her job all over east Memphis. Came home and died.
Got up about 7, got laundry going.
About 8 my six shelf bookshelf tipped over.
We boxed up the books and put them in Chris' room.
I did not have the energy to spare. Now at laundromat drying clothes. Going to go home, drink the end of the apple juice and make grape juice.
In the beginning, television was without form and void and darkness lay upon the face of the people. The Great Bird of the Galaxy spread forth his wings and said "let there there be Trek." And there was Trek and it was good. And for three seasons did the mighty men and women of old, Kirk and Spock, McCoy and Uhura, carry forth. Then the Network laid waste to the Trek and a great cry went up from the people. Out of the cry was born Fandom. And Fandom begat conventions. Conventions begat cosplay. Fandom begat Fanworks. Fanworks begat Fanfiction. And Fanfiction begat Fanzines.
And in the darkness of the 1970s, Fanfiction begat Slash, which spread strife among the Fen.
Cody is 21, fresh out of training. He's a fireball chucker, an explosion maker. Pyromancer.
Antoine is 35, old for a combat Mage. He's a shield and ward man, with pheremone control. Some electricity and fire.
Antoine isn't sure about taking on the new kid. He doesn't want to babysit a gay white boy who may or may not live out the year.
"So, what now?" Cody asked as he climbed off the bike.
"Now you go home and get some sleep. Gotta save the world tomorrow too."
"I mean us."
Antoine looked at him. "Ain't no us. I'm not your boyfriend. I'm your VP. That means I help you when you need it, like any other brother."
Cody shrugged and tried for a smile. It didn't work. "Whatever." He turned away but before he could get his helmet on, Antoine caught him by the hair. He gasped but kissed back when Antoine enjoyed him for a minute more.
"You only ride bitch for me, kid," Antoine whispered.
Cody just grinned and kissed him again.