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Lateshift: It's later in the future.

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Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

04:27 / 18.03.08

Hi, Dec.

I'm here. I wrote more future stuff and I really wish I could make money off of fiction right now, because the union stuff is depressing and I want to bang my head against the wall. Trying to coordinate picket line story times is an exercise in cat-herding.

And why do I never have any booze? Probably because I would drink it and be useless, I suppose.

Well, if nothing else, I'm gangbusters on the fiction right now.

04:45 / 18.03.08

I think you have to leave the union behind, Radiation. In terms of how your work's perceived.

05:16 / 18.03.08

Hello LaR and AG! I've only got a tiny bit of Wild Turkey left, but, really, that's all I need.

Good to read your writing's going well, at least.

I simply never want to see another sugar-shamrock-topped green frothy drink again, and I know they'll be back next year.

05:22 / 18.03.08

Trying to coordinate picket line story times is an exercise in cat-herding

This, as I'm sure you know, is a disastrous way of looking at the situation; you're the writer, you tell your characters what to do. If need be, you punish them; they're allowed a certain amount of freedom, but only so much.

Focus on what you want to say. Abandon Joyce/Henry M, abandon all influences, plot the the thing from beginning to middle and end, and, if nothing else, you won't bore the arse off whoever it is that has to, initially, read the thing. It's a trick I've yet to master, admittedly, but, if you can get away with it, it's the best way to approach shoving the beautiful ideas into a letterbox, expecting(ish) a response, somewhat later.

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

05:30 / 18.03.08

You know, I keep forgetting that it's St. Patrick's Day. Or was, whichever.

Yeah, I know it's time to make the big break for it. I just need to get through the next two weeks, and then the event we're planning will have concluded and I can focus more energy on job-hunting. I don't really want to job-hunt, but if I get a new job that's more stable, I won't feel so worn out all the time.

I shouldn't get worked up about the union stuff, and I'm actually being very good about compartmentalizing it as much as I can.

Partly I just feel depressive and under-confident right now, which doesn't exactly encourage me to fire resumes everywhere under the sun.

Which is just so dumb it's not even funny.

Wah, wah, wah! I should give myself a slap, I should.

Some Wild Turkey would be nice. Actually, to be completely ghetto about it, I crave a stupidly big bottle of Baby Duck to suckle while I write weird robot stories. I'm having fun with the weird robot stories.

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

05:32 / 18.03.08

This, as I'm sure you know, is a disastrous way of looking at the situation; you're the writer, you tell your characters what to do. If need be, you punish them; they're allowed a certain amount of freedom, but only so much.

Sadly, you know, that bit was referring to actual people interactions and crowd-piloting rather than anything fictional. Fiction is, like, shit, breezy.

05:42 / 18.03.08

Well, the fictions will stick around, and the people, or the mess with the people, will fade away in time one hopes.

I just find St. Pat's Day absurdly insulting, and I refuse to order anything anywhere during because of the stupid green-ness and shamrockification it will surely involve, which means I spent the day railing against the wind like an idiot and the evening drinking strong coffee, pretending to work, and losing a button off my shirt to an overenthused wearer of a "Kiss Me I'm Irish" button.

And I started the day with Behan and the Pogues, without realizing the holiday was upon us, so I despised myself a little bit, too.

Surely you'll land on your feet somewhere outside of the library world, LaR. With a full shirt's compliment of buttons and a big bottle of your favorite. Or, half the buttons and and an empty bottle, as preference may guide.

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

05:47 / 18.03.08

With an empty bottle for bar fights, and inappropriate touching for afters, darling.

But enough about me! What says the Republic of Love?

05:59 / 18.03.08

What says the Republic of Love?

[In my finest Ted Logan, one hand extended:] Welcome to the Hall of Presidents!

(If anyone asks later, I'll blame the drink.)

And on that note, I've just remembered I have leftover pancakes that can be nuked.

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

04:14 / 19.03.08

A HALF-FULL BOTTLE OF RED WINE!

02:27 / 20.03.08

Hello 'Lith!

I just came back from a teachers conference made endurable only because the rest of the room went on about how much they hate most of their classes, how disrespectful and stupid the kids are, and everytime it rolled back to me I was pretty much "My kids are smarter and better looking than you. And they could totally beat up your class in a cage match." Unjustified egotism is significant to my entire outlook on life.

And the only continent we're not having represented in Magazine X that I'm co-editing is Antarctica and that may not be true when publication time comes!

Who's about and what're you about?

Leigh Monster loses its cool

02:47 / 20.03.08

I'm about, although perhaps out of date.

02:57 / 20.03.08

Hey, Leigh!

How's life treating you?

I was afraid I'd get return to barbelith hopelessly out of touch and awkwardly oldfashioned, but it seems all I missed was the decline of talking cat pictures and lateshifts. Both, hopefully, temporary.

Leigh Monster loses its cool

03:19 / 20.03.08

Haha. Me too, I've not been around much lately. Life's pretty good. I'm sweating bullets trying to complete my creative writing thesis, in the form of a graphic novel script, in the next week or so, and I'm less than halfway there. But it's a good kind of stress. How about you?

03:47 / 20.03.08

I'm doing better than I would have expected, say, four months ago. Interest in my writing is picking up again, the rights on a script were renewed when I thought for sure they'd let it drop, and I'm teaching high school students again and rather enjoying it.

And pictures of me asleep are being e-mailed about the country at this very moment, which is unnerving and flattering. I should probably be offended or paranoid, but right now I'm just happy I'm not drooling or something.

I think it's traditional that a writing thesis not be completed on time, so I wouldn't stress too much. It's when you've completely junked four or more works over a semester that you should really begin to worry. Unless you're geared to get the hell out... in which case, work fast and good luck to you!

03:50 / 20.03.08

Hey there.

03:53 / 20.03.08

Hi, LN!

03:57 / 20.03.08

I'm all wigged out because a friend of mine told me a scary story he read in a book. Now I'm tired but terrified to go to bed.

Leigh Monster loses its cool

04:01 / 20.03.08

Hot milk with honey and cinnamon.

04:02 / 20.03.08

Surely sleepiness must overcome fear eventually, but in the meantime, y'know, have a cup of tea and think of kittens and chocolate. And lateshift with us, of course.

04:07 / 20.03.08

I can't think of kittens right now, but thanks anyway.

A cup of tea sounds nice though...

Leigh Monster loses its cool

04:18 / 20.03.08

Oh, hugs, LN.

I want to stay and shift but I must thesis. I'm very glad ya'll are still here though! Have a good night guys, get some rest.

04:18 / 20.03.08

Poor cat! I think I'll have a cup of tea, myself, after reading that.

04:19 / 20.03.08

Good Night, Leigh Monster!

04:23 / 20.03.08

Night, Leigh. Shift again, soon.

01:02 / 21.03.08

Realworld fleshy people are scaring the crap out of me again.

And have I harped on enough about how I missed the lateshifts, yet? Cause I did.

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

01:08 / 21.03.08

Why do they scare you?

01:23 / 21.03.08

I believe "You just don't understand men," is shaping up to be my least favorite phrase ever. And I have no defense for it, as it's a "No it's not" kind of phrase.

It's a phrase I got to hear a few times today, at whatever you call lunch-dinner (lunner?) with friends. So I pretend to enjoy my cashew chicken and not cast judgments on people who admit they knew they're furthering stupid, destructive situations, on the basis of their amazingly keen gender biases, and that it's better to have sex with someone you can't stand than listen to them whine or haunt your public life. (If I were a more eloquent human being, I could probably channel that into something useful to the Consent Thread.)

And then I'm somewhere between feeling guilty for judging folks reflexively, worried for people's general future, and creeped out by how broken the world looks from certain angles.

01:38 / 21.03.08

You ever notice, intevitably, all writers end up somewhere in their body of work, the equivalent of "Don't date writers; writers suck"?

01:45 / 21.03.08

Its ok, artists tend to say "dont date artists..they're scary"

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

01:54 / 21.03.08

Writers -- oh, totally. The sad thing is if we didn't walk around with that in our heads somewhere, we wouldn't be so difficult.

I dare you to respond to "You just don't understand men," with "Your gender biases are boring me." Especially if you can work in a shot of bourbon and a rapid exit stage left.

Kegs!

I'm in the middle of a job application that I'm going to finish tomorrow because it's *long*, and another piece of that future thing that is rapidly consuming all of my non-professional life thinking.

02:00 / 21.03.08

I was just about to post "Maybe I need to know more accountants, instead" and my friend, who is an accountant in her day gig, calls me and asks if I want to trade lives and socialization. Synchronicity strikes.

02:01 / 21.03.08

Synchronicity strikes....but you never see its picket lines.

Hallo, Paper Spaceboy

02:06 / 21.03.08

You should take your accountant out for drinks, I think, and commiserate. At least that way you'd both know what life-swapping what get you into.

02:12 / 21.03.08

So, I'm off for a bit, but shall return to shift again... later.

Hopefully someone else will be up, too.

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