Saturday, November 10, 2001

I need to write to Kel to tell her that I like Visio a lot. What makes me say this? Why, the MS Lexicon, of course! (Link via Wannabe Girl, again.)
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:06 AM |

My results from the Are You A SciFi Fan? quiz? 37. Which, according to them, means:

(21 to 50) No doubt about it, you bloody love space. You know the best way to disable a cyberman is by rubbing gold into his chestplate, you know the names of all the Ewoks, you know how to say "phasers to stun" in Romulan, but you can't remember where you live. You'll watch any old tosh as long as it's got robots in it, and you will end up married to a goth librarian with the Seal of Rassillon tattooed on her neck. We hope you'll be very happy together.

*Snerk* I like the bit about the librarian. And none of that is true, either. (Well, possibly the part about the librarian, but I don't know about that, yet.) The test is skewed to males, and, as usual, features questions for which -my- answer doesn't exist. Oh well.(Well, that and I somehow -missed- the giant '(male)' at the top of the page. *Shrug*)
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:31 AM |

And another thing! *Snerk* ...from SeeThru. Questions Ask Jeeves Can't Answer.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:38 AM |

every true story—that is to say, every love story—is a sad one. because if anything about life on earth rings true, it's unfulfilled yearning, unmet longing, dissatisfaction. the characters that initially seem so simple often turn out to be so tragic, and before long, you realize that there are no simple characters, and that all of them are tragic.

every true story—that is to say, every love story—is a happy one. because there's hope where there's need, and salvation where there's desperation. somehow, strength is perfected through weakness.

And this is a good portion of why a lot of what I write ends up the way it does. I found this on a site called Instant Loser (which doesn't appear to have been updated since last December), from Fallible, which I don't particularly care for. Not that it's bad, or poorly written, it's just not something I'm interested in.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:48 AM |

I know I read waaaay too much SciFi, but even semi-sentient software gives me the creeps.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:51 AM |

A good portion of stuff blogged tonight is just being parked here in anticipation of me getting Fiach back. *Puts hand firmly over mouth and stays away from any more whining*
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:56 AM |

Okay, Bitter Fictions is worth visiting for no more than the cool morphing links. (That is to say, I've been watching them instead of reading content. Heh.)

Yes, I am easily entertained. I'm tired and should go to bed.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 1:01 AM |

All right, I'm now off to bed.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 1:03 AM |

Random Blog Checking results:

Odd gothy doodads. (Found here)
Posted by: Shannon M.: 6:04 PM |

I'm wearing Dude and slick black nailpolish (which reminds me that I should A) redo my nails and B) scan 'em so everyone can enjoy 'em), which always makes me think of Nine. The character, not the pathetic attempt at giving myself a nickname (I've given up on the self-nicknaming part for the moment). Nine's a short, sawed-off*, quiet little geek of a guy. He just happens to have blue hair and a very cool black leather jacket. Well, that and more computing power than your average geek, but hey. Other than these odd little facts, I know nothing about him... I want to know more, though. I have a few ideas.

* yeah, I know -- a -short- guy. They can't all be 6'6 and 205, you know... *Snerk*
Posted by: Shannon M.: 6:36 PM |

Friday, November 09, 2001

Tupperware. In Dutch, I think.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:27 AM |

Wahoo! Made it to/through both my classes!

Proving once again that I am apparently more 'with it' (or something) than my NetworkIntro classmates, I sat in the back, wrote Kelvath/Avrath The End mushiness (Thrill as Kelvath...-makes breakfast!- Reel as Avrath...acts like a small sleepy child! *Sniggle*), and answered every question I was asked correctly. *Shrug* I have no idea what's going on there, but I don't care. I get writing done and I get a good grade, Or Something.

In Japanese, I actually spoke up and defended myself -- our quiz was strange, with a three-part oral portion and one part written portion. In the oral, we broke into groups of three and each of us had to answer one question from a list of ten. I ace the first one (baaru wa hako no shita ni arimasu), Cheng-san aces the second (tori wa ki no naka (or ue) ni imasu, and then Ki-san runs into trouble. I was the one that got the answer written down, so I just passed it to him. Unfortunately, he either couldn't read my handwriting, or his visual discrimination isn't that great. Either way, he reads the sentence and leaves out a vital part, which he can't seem to pick up. -I- take a stab at the sentence, and as I'm _trying_ to spit out this complex sentence (Yokiko-san wa Michida-san no ushiro imasu.), Kyong-san keeps yelling 'No! No!' and drowning me out. So I waved at him and asked if I could -please- finish. So I did, and Senshu-sensei's looking at me kind of funny. So I revise it, and say 'Chin-san no ushiro imasu?' We got fifty points for trying, but the -correct- was 'Chin-san no ushiro -ga- imasu'. I hate particles, sometimes.

But other than that, I had an okay day.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 10:20 PM |

It's worth the time it takes to download the opening image for -just- the opening image at this DiGiCharat site. And the characters are pretty cute, too.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 10:21 PM |

I can also -read- most of what's on the DiGiCharat site, too... Not understand, mind you, but read. I feel like a little kid, sounding things out...
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:44 PM |

I think what I like best about the character design is the colors and the lines.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:45 PM |

This is why -I- will be one of the old fogeys sitting in an assigned seat if I ever get the chance to see NIN. I'm too short to have any fun in a mosh pit. (Found at Wannabe Girl)
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:59 PM |

Thursday, November 08, 2001

Just a couple of things:

1) In a record-breaking spate of clumsiness, I broke my laptop. Technically, I tripped over the phone cord and it fell from the table onto a chair, just far enough to bugger up the power switch (or something). This was after I skipped class again, so it was basically injury on top of injury. I'm going to take it to the shop tomorrow.

2) I have more MooT. It's just on my laptop. Of course.

In happier news, I am going to introduce Mme. Jean to the wonder that is Trigun tomorrow, so that should be fun. And my mother is an amazing, -amazing- person.

G'night.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:31 AM |

Bwahaha! *Sniggle* I love Technomancy. And every time I get done with Networking class, I always have the same question: if the Windows platform is so damned -unpleasant- to work with, if it's such a stone bitch to keep secure and make easy-to-use, why the _HELL_ is it so damned _popular_?

----

I miss my iBook. Weird Tech Story:

I took my little Fiach to The Alaska Mac Store to get it checked out (I've not yet settled on a gender, though I keep getting the impression that Fiach is male). This guy, who is one of the marginally more helpful employees, comes over, listens to my tale, eyes the power adapter and says, "Looks like that's bad."

I think, 'no, actually, it was working just fine when I plugged it in this morning...' but I don't try to point this out to him. He plugs everything in, looks for the light, finds none. Presses the power key. Nada.

So then he goes and fetches a display adapter, which has had a presumably softer life than mine. Plug, plug, press... Nothing. Not a click, pop, whirr, hum, or even horrible grating noise. The battery is still out! We replace it and give it a shot. Again, bupkiss.

So then he takes the power adapter out and tries again. Mutters something about a reboot key sequence, but doesn't -try- it. Calls ShopBoy over.

ShopBoy looks it over, listens to the recounting of the tale, and then says, "Well, I can open it up, but it'll be a hundred and twenty bucks. And it's probably not worth it to fix it, providing I can." He also blithered about it costing me 120 plus whatever Apple would charge to fix it. The tone to me was 'why don't you just pitch it and buy a -new- one?', so I told them I'd think about it and left.

They made it sound -hopeless-. I have no idea what I expect from a Mac store, but every time I go in there, I don't get it. I was discussing this phenomenon with my mother, who said -she- always expected some kind of wild alternative music, people with dyed hair and facial piercings, and a -happy-, 'we love Macs and know you do too!' sort of atmosphere.

Instead, you get cool (as in aloof), distant salespeople that look really boringly normal, the occasional spate of odd music (if they've got iTunes open), and sort of a 'All we really want is your money, and we don't care what platform you use as long as you buy it from _US_' attitude. It's really difficult to describe.

So I went to CluelessUSA. The guy behind the counter wasn't cheerful, but he A) didn't treat me like scum because I had a Mac*, B) condescend because I'm female or C) act like helping me was a -huge- favor. He listened to my sorry tale, reassurred me that -yes-, they'd open it up, check everything there was to check, see what they could see, fix what they could, and call me in a couple of days. It cost more than at the Mac place, but I was so happy to have someone -willing- to take care of my machine instead of trying to sell me a new one that I said "Great! What information do you need?"

(* His boss, however, made a really _lame_ joke about baked apples. I was quite pleased with myself -- not only did I _not_ make a nasty crack about Wintel boxes, but I didn't even really react outwardly at all. I was annoyed, too, because he asked with a great amount of apparent interest if it was an Apple... I was hoping he was a fan. *Grump*)

So Fiach's in the shop, probably 'til the 15th. And I'm thinking that I may have to revise my opinion of CluelessUSA.

The -other- interesting thing about the Mac place? They -still- have their 'Now Accepting Resumes!' sign in the window. This tells me that I don't really want to work there, which means that it's a -Very- Good Thing that they never called me back about my application.

-----------

I don't know what I'm going to do if whatever happened turns out to be permanent and fatal. Well, I'll ask if they can retrieve some data from the hard drive for me -- all I want is my MooT stuff, 'cause I can get, or already have, the rest of it. And then I'll ask them if they buy notebooks for parts, and see about offsetting the labor fees with parts prices. If worst comes to worst, anyhow. I mean, it's probably just a switch, or a connection, or something. Something simple, and easy-to-fix.... Yeah. Just something simple, I hope.

----------

I should probably keep on trying to write more MooT, but I wanted to finish the scene I'd started -- I think it was Gal'teth and Kelvath having an argument -- but I can't remember where I stopped. I thought, of course, that I would be able to keep working on it after I went out and picked up after the ravens. That's how I tripped over the cord: I was getting layers on in preparation to go out and pick up trash that the ravens had scattered across the top of our driveway. I don;t really care if they get into the trash, scavenging for leftovers and eating the moldy remnants of stew and stuff (trust me, mold is the least of their worries. They're carrion-eaters, ravens are. But then, you knew that.). I just don't want them pulling everything apart and making a huge mess.

I know I'm going on about this, but look at it this way: it was an expensive (for me, at this point in time), almost stupidly expensive purchase, it was something I -can- live without, it was something -special-, and _I_ damaged it. It was on, when I felt the cord resist my foot (which I stupidly thought I'd lifted high enough, and it's not like I strung the phone cord at ankle-height, or at that height on purpose...), it was on when it hit the chair, and I left it alone while I went out to pick up the trash. Probably no more than two and a half minutes, if that.

So I worry. I worry that I just sunk a large amount of cash in something that I had for two short little weeks and will never be able to use again, and I wonder if maybe I should just give up trying to have anything relatively _new_, ever, so that if I -do- something to it it won't be such a big deal, and... Man, I just want it to be okay.

And yeah, maybe it -is- 'just a computer', but it's -mine-. And it's the first new computer I've had in five years. The OS is two versions newer than the one I'm currently using. The speed is fifty -times- that of the CPU in this machine. In three and a half to four years, hertz speeds reached -fifty- times the speed standard in '96. (Well, at least for Apple.)

And besides that? The 'net's just about the most fascinating thing I've got access to these days. I can talk back to the TV and the radio, but I don't really physically affect them (and yes, we could argue about the physicality of the 'net, but...I digress.). I can read books 'til the pages fall out (and I have!), but until the author writes a new one, I don't get any more. Granted, things published online only go up as fast as humans get them done, but it's a little faster than for a new novel. And I can pass the time until the next hardcopy novel by poking around online -- the mental version of reading the National Geographics at the dentist's office.

I can learn almost anything I care to look for, I can find information for other people, I can settle disputes and win bets, I can communicate with people that actually -like- me for who I am and what I can do. I can communicate with total strangers who don't care about who I am or what I do. I can start fights without worrying about bruises or bloody noses. I can get answers to my deepest dilemmas! I can start a new religion, I can get people to send me money, I can spend my own.

Access to the 'net is power. I like power. I particularly like it in this form, because I am responsible for no one but myself. Information is power -- or a weapon. I like to be armed, for the most part. And information is a lot easier to weild than a longbow.

I want my information and power to flow smoothly, and as instantaneously as possible. (And yes, Reesa, I know the web doesn't run in realtime... *Snicker* But heck, 'Q and AIM are almost as good as realtime... I'll stop, now.) This computer is simply getting to the point where the information is molasses, instead of water. Well, more like 30weight at about 32 degrees... Slower, anyhow.

And also? I just want to know that I haven't ruined something I was supposed to take care of. I'd been doing really well with it, you know? Hadn't dropped it, banged it into anything, spilled water on it... There was the soup, but it was a small drop, and most of it landed -on- the spacebar, _and_ I made sure to get it out from between the keys.

I know it's not like the parakeet I killed through neglect; it's not even -alive-. But it's mine, and it's important, and I've not been exactly Miss Perspective 2001 these days, so.

I guess I just needed to share that or something.

I need to go to bed.

Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:24 PM |

Fixed the Archive link and republished the archives. I'm going to fight with the link-link ('I want this one!') later.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:35 PM |

Wednesday, November 07, 2001

Thanks, Scrubby. *Grin* I like it, too, with the stars and everything. And the colors are easy on my eyes. Pixel Kiss! She doesn't have many templates, but the ones she does are pretty nice.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:48 AM |

Oh, and because you can change the colors of IE's buttons and things on a Mac, when I changed the color to a dark pink and looked at my blog, I had an accidentally patriotic look. *Snerk*
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:49 AM |

Hee! Shingo-mama wa omoshiroi desu.

I don't want to go to class.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:49 AM |

Tuesday, November 06, 2001

I bought myself American Gods about a month ago. I also bought a number of other books, which I have slowly been working my way through. (Plug: The Quotable Sandman! Niftynifty, if a little lacking. But hey, if they put everything _I_ liked into it, it'd basically be a reprint of The Kindly Ones. *Snerk*) Anyhow. I started reading AG a couple of nights ago, and I just now finished the interlude before Chapter Eight. Wow. _Wow_.

This is so totally redundant, but I'm saying it anyhow: The Man Can Write. _Wow_.
Of course, it could just be that I need sleep. Which is where I'm going, honest.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 1:18 AM |

Someone told me I'd love Spike (either that or it was just BtVS in general), and they were right. *Snerk* "Can't wait to tell my friends. -They- don't have a rock this big."
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:50 AM |

Dear Speedstick,

Those commercials are really -odd-. How much did you pay those guys? And how many takes were required before they could sniff their pits with a straight face?

Yours,

A Puzzled (and somewhat amused) Viewer
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:52 AM |

I would just like to say that in the whole 'be an adult' continuum of TV commercials, Cinnamon Toast Crunch trounces Progresso's Bland Noodle Soup -every- time. And can Progresso _GET_ any -more- condescending?

I'm stuck on the MooT rewrite. See the new stuff.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:07 PM |

I can't figure out the stupid paragraph breaks in my blog. What the hell is up with that? *Jabs things*
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:15 PM |

So how's this look?
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:57 PM |

Whoops, had a typo in my code. Now?
Posted by: Shannon M.: 1:02 PM |

Look, you great stupid cow of a crossing-guard, I fucking _stopped_, and when I started moving again, I was going -slow-. I don't give a damn about the stupid little hellspawn, and I must say that I don't care about you. All I wanted to do was get home, and you and your fucking hellspawn make that difficult. I don't like them, I don't like you, and I -really- fucking resent -you- of all people yelling at _me_. Fucking cow.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 4:23 PM |

Reisens: See my Speedstick note. What planet were -those- guys from?

Also, it's funny to see MacGraphics on what is ostensibly a Wintel box on the DirecTV DSL ad.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 5:39 PM |

Can Joyce be any more irrational? Blaming -Giles- for Buffy's decision to go haring off to LA was just _stupid_.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:30 PM |

In other news, I'm torn between loving and loathing Principal Snyder. On the one hand, he's a vicious little creep, but on the other, he's a vicious little creep. He's a -great- bad guy, though not one that I'd like to meet in real life.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:34 PM |

There is something fundamentally -wrong- with me, something broken. I am, apparently, the only one that knows this.

No one -else- reacts the way I do about the things that I do; no one -else- gets an amazingly perfect day utterly -ruined- by a crossing-guard... No one -else- overreacts about a fucking crossing-guard yelling at them in the first place. I have no idea what she wanted to talk to me about, but instead of rolling down my window, I freaked out and sped away. You read it here first: I sped through a fucking school zone. So what. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen kids in that school zone -near- the school this year. The rest of the time, they're walking -in- the -road- (I'll say that again: _IN_ THE _ROAD_) OUTSIDE OF THE SCHOOL ZONE.

I accelerated all the way up Huffman Hill, and may I just say that Huffman is a steep hill? It is. And I nearly missed my turn.

Also? I somehow misprogrammed my VCR, so that I ended up with Everybody Loves Raymond (no, they don't), Fraiser (I dislike you, too), and almost all of Buffy. What did I miss? Oh, nothing important. Just the whole fucking climax and denoumont. And so I of course completely overreacted, with much childishness. Because I am broken, and have something deeply, fundamentally wrong with me.

I'm gonna go cry now. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I last cried? About fifteen, twenty minutes -- No, more like thirty or forty. During the 'You've Got Me Under Your Spell' Willow-and-Tara number, anyhow. Before that, I was getting teary-eyed over something utterly stupid, not that I can remember what it was (I think it was a commercial of some sort). And yesterday, I was whimpering to myself because I didn't want to go to class.

Last Wednesday was lots of fun, too. Snot and spit and saliva and crying in front of my mother. That was nice. I so enjoy involving other people in my breakdowns. In other words, I, who basically -never- cry, has been making like a fountain of saline here, recently. And I don't like it. It's not fun. It's not pleasant. And it's -messy-.

And it's scary, being like this. This isn't who I used to be, you know. I used to be smart and funny and hopeful and good at stuff (simple stuff, like setting a timer to record a show) and cheerful and strong and there for people.

Well, I'm still here. And I guess I'm still funny. Well, yeah, I am, but then we all know I've never been much more than a big joke. My mother seems to think that one can flip switches in one's brain and be all fixed. I don't think it works like that. I never want to do anything, any more. Well, not much of anything. I have a month-long housesitting gig coming up, that should be fun. Not. I got rid of the Christmas-break job, though, which means that I get to come home and stay for a while before going off to sit for my grandparents (they're going to see Kel, Ken, and my stepcousins). I also have an appointment to see my doctor on the 13th, so maybe I can, as my mother says, get back to being my handsome, evil self.

Because this whole being-like-my-father thing really, REALLY _fucking_ -sucks-. A lot.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 10:54 PM |

Well, I heard my first Kelvath/Avrath song, but I can't remember what it was. Of course. I really should write these things down.

Somewhere That's Green is a Kelvath song, in the sense that Kelvath wants a safe place, too. He, of course, is a few hundred years from a washing machine, though.

I love the Little Shop Of Horrors soundtrack.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:33 PM |

Monday, November 05, 2001

Because I like it so, and because I figured this out all by myself, I present my new theme by Pixel Kiss. Yee!
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:10 AM |

Urgh. What the hell happened to my paragraph breaks?
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:12 AM |

I'll fight with it tomorrow, when I should be reading Chapter Three of my Networking book. And doing Katakana practice, and a number of other things that I shooooould have taken care of this weekend when I was busy flaking out. Or freaking out, depending on how you look at it.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 12:15 AM |

*Grin* *Blush* Aww! Thank you, Scrubby, that's sweet... And something that pretty much made my morning. Aww.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 8:34 AM |

Oh! Recently, there's been a car with custom plates in Mme. Jean's neighborhood. This wouldn't be remarkable but for the fact that the plate reads 'REESA'... It always gives me pause, before I remember that I would -know- if it was the Reesa I know. (Besides, I really doubt Reesa would have plates with her name on them.)
Posted by: Shannon M.: 8:48 AM |

Ergh... I should be doing laundry... But I think I'll try going back to sleep.

I can't decide if I'm going to go to class. I hate this.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 8:53 AM |

Warehouse 23 is addictive. It also makes me want to work up some sort of tabletop RP to use the things found in the boxes... Or play the game they go with. Whatever.

You open one of the 1002 boxes on this floor and find...
A cat slowly rotating in midair. There is a slice of buttered toast strapped to its back.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:35 AM |

Hm. This might be useful, in certain situations...

You open one of the 1002 boxes on this floor and find...
A wrench. It generates FAR too much torque.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:39 AM |

Boy Meets Boy - Monday, November 5, 2001 Like the Gay Odd Couple. Only Sexier.

Everyone that reads my page also reads BmB, I know. I'm just checking to see if BlogThis works from -this- computer.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:52 AM |

Wow. Now, if I could only figure out why the paragraph breaks display properly in -some- places and not in others.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:54 AM |

Yaaaay! More Revisionist Happy Friendly History from Disney! This time with anthropomorphic horses.

The saddest part of all is that it's not a -bad- premise.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:14 AM |

Bwahaha... "Do you know...The Muffin Man?"

"The...Muffin Man?"

"The Muffin Man."

"Yes, I know The Muffin Man...who lives in Drury lane."

I love Shrek.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:38 AM |

Oh hey, Sleepless is on! It's Nervous!Krycek... Aww!
Posted by: Shannon M.: 4:32 PM |

This is only a test.

Can I get true breaks using a combination of tags?

We'll just have to see.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 4:35 PM |

Freakishly enough, yes.

What a pain in the ass.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 4:35 PM |

Why are most policemen on TV portrayed as such _assholes_?
Posted by: Shannon M.: 5:12 PM |

The foregoing posts were brought to you by not having enough sleep.

Watashi wa tatemo nemui desu. *Whinewhine* I want to write, too, but I can't say that in Japanese, yet.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:27 PM |

ReplayTV 4000 features

Wow. You really think the TV networks aren't going to have a fit over the whole sharing shows thing? I mean, good God, you take out the commercials -and- you send it to the Brits? What kind of capitalists are you? *Snerk* ...it made sense in my head, trust me.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 9:29 PM |

Sunday, November 04, 2001

I. Have. A. Real. Desktop! Eeeeee! *Snerk* I actually have the Mac Appearance Manager, which means that I can have 800x600 wallpapers on my desktop, as opposed to having to crop and shrink everything down to 64x64 pixels.

So who is gracing my desktop? The illustrious, silly, wonderful, delightful Vash The Stampede.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 4:32 PM |

Okay, I give up. I've been thinking that I should ditch the whole Ludy-kidnap scene and then write up the whole 'Get me this book and I'll make it worth your while' scene for MooT, and ditching it permanently. It _does_ establish Maus' relationship with Silver, but then... I don't know. Maus is kind of important to poor Kelvath's Drunken Stupor scene, but... Aaaaaaaiagh!

I haven't been able to make decisions by myself, of late. I need an editor to tell me what to keep and what to lose... I suppose I can take the important elements (Grimoire, Kelvath And The Ritual, The War) and just rewrite around them? I did that with The Great Escape, kind of. Oh, I don't know. I'll think about it.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 4:41 PM |

Found a couple of sketchbooks today, not terribly old -- the beginning of HappyPear, Hubie, Alvie, Cid and Zed, Silver-ish and Kelvath-ish guys... And a few pictures of a cute boy wearing a shirt that says 'I'm a Mausketeer!'.

-I- want a Mausketeer shirt. No one besides Mme. Jean will get it, but hey. That's okay.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:01 PM |

I've also decided to just do a massive rewrite of MooT. It's now only 15 pages long and 9500 words, instead of 61 and 36,100+. You can see what I changed here.

I only mention the word count because I'm curious to see how many words it takes for me to tell a story. I checked on StS once, but I can't remember what the word count was. I think SpeedLight came in somewhere in the 80,000 word catagory, if not more... Other than those, I've not checked others, or I've forgotten what they were.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:06 PM |

Well, great. I just realized that the fact that Maus was present when Kelvath talked to Silver means that the whole vaguely-smutty cabin-cuddle scene is -completely- unecessary, even though it contains the promises that are referred to not but one scene later! Aaaaaaaigh, I _hate_ doing this to myself.

And my left hand smells like mice, which I hate. Both mice and the smell. Gick.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:18 PM |