New Blogging Fun!
It is that time again! Yup, you guessed it, I finally got around to adding the links of the new journals my friends have created over in the Additional Blogging Fun section. One of them, Super Heather, is a blog created by my good Florida friend, who fights stupid students and evil villans with style and panache.
I thought about adding David Hewlett's
blog to the list (if you don't know who he is, you are a poor, deprived soul), but since I don't actually know him, I figured I'd leave it off for now. Now if it was Paul McGillion.... But as far as I know he doesn't blog, so oh well.
Anyhoo, not much else is new. I had a wonderful birthday, and I thank everyone for their kind wishes! Looking forward to the three-day weekend coming up, although I must admit I really don't have plans. Maybe I'll actually get some cleaning done. Then again, maybe not. I also have several partial stories and story ideas I haven't had time to mess with, so perhaps I'll do that instead.
Oh! I did finally get my vacation pics uploaded, but since, unlike Dee, I don't have the super-spiffy paid kodak gallery account, I can't just link you to the page. However, leave me a comment with your email if I don't have it, and I'll send you an invite which will let you view them. Be warned, there are more than 600 pics in the album, as we combined the shots taken by everyone there. But there are some good ones in there, so all is well.
Oh my.
Ok, so Paul decided I needed to have a low-key kind of birthday, keep it under the table so to speak. This was his way of helping me along with that....
Note that in addition to what you see, there is bubble wrap under my chair and balloons pretty much cover the under side of my desk.
I couldn't help but laugh. I was taken completely by surprise and walked in this morning to find my cube a transformed place.
I think the entire company is finding an excuse to come walk by my desk. I am getting every variation of "Happy Birthday" and not a few people stopping to stare speechless before giggling and moving on.
Apparently I needed to be decorated too.
All in all, I must admit this totally made my day. Thanks Paul!
Cast your vote!
Ok, while falling asleep last night, a little snippet of the beginning of a story drifted through my head. I really have no idea what it is or where it is going, but I don't know whether I want to pursue it or not. So I am putting it to a vote. Read the little piece of text below, and let me know if you want to see more!
************
One eyebrow shot up, amusement and amazement warring for a few seconds on her face, before amusement won out. She tried to hold the laughter in, the first few giggles coming out as muffled snorts, before she gave in.
"Ok, so not funny." His look of complete exasperation, coupled with the fact that he was covered head to toe in a gooey, dripping mud, just made her laugh harder.
"It...so...is." She managed to gasp out. She was now leaning against the wall, doubled over from laughter stomach cramps. Finally managing to get control of herself, she straightened back up.
"Are you done now? Because if so, I could really use a little help here." He was standing in the doorway, just outside the house. The martyred look, along with the tone, served only to set her off again.
"Ok, ok," she couldn't stop giggling. "You are not coming in like that. Strip off your clothes, then head to the shower." She disappeared around a corner briefly, returning with a bucket for the soiled garments that were already starting to come off. He had his back turned to the street, so he didn't see the nosy neighbor come out the check the mail, and stop to stare and the rapidly de-robing male. She smothered another bought of giggles, knowing he probably wouldn't appreciate her total and complete amusement at the entire situation.
************
That is all there was. So, is it interesting enough to make you want to hear more? Or should I not bother?
A New Story
This character kind of popped into my head tonight and wouldn't go away, so I decided to give her a quick story. This is the first original character story I have done in a long time. Lately I have been writing fanfic, which is a lot of fun too. I have no plans to stop doing that, but I hope to write more original stuff as well. Eventually I will post this on fictionpress.com, but there is a waiting period before you can put anything up. So for now I will post it here. Let me know what you think!
TITLE: Lonely
AUTHOR: Girrlkitty
STATUS: Complete
RATING: G
CATEGORY: General fiction
SUMMARY: Why do we have to choose between success and love?
WARNINGS: None
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It has been a while since I wrote any original characters, although I have been puttering around with a few things lately. This character was yelling too loudly not to be heard, however. I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated, good or bad! Thanks to Yllek, who gave it a quick edit for me. Any errors are mine alone.
ARCHIVE: Do not archive without the author's express permission.
Caitlin wandered restlessly around her apartment, fingers trailing through the collected dust on the shelves and books as she passed by. Wryly looking at her fingertips, she figured it was probably time to do a good cleaning, but now was not the time.
She moved back and forth through the two rooms of the small space, one a living room/kitchen/dining room/office, the other her bedroom. Her cat, Mr. Shelborne, Shelby for short, finally got tired of the pacing and flopped down in the approximate middle, where he could keep an eye on her.
Caitlin moved to the couch, deciding to try some television. She flicked through 67 channels in rapid succession, nothing managing to capture her attention. Shutting it back off, she looked around the room.
“What the Hell is wrong with me tonight?” She said it out loud more to hear the sound of a voice, any voice, than from any real desire to talk to herself. She rose again, the walls seeming more like a prison than a haven at the moment.
She waited a heartbeat, not really expecting an answer, but pausing for one anyway. Feeling more than a bit silly, she stripped, reasoning that a good shower was just what she needed.
Turning the water as hot as she could stand it, Caitlin scrubbed at her skin, enjoying the contrast of smooth suds and rough poof. She stayed in until her skin was turning pink and wrinkled, deciding she would rather get out than turn down the heat. She pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a tee-shirt, loving how free she felt without a bra to hinder her movements.
The relaxation didn’t last long however. Before she knew it, she found herself wandering around again, touching things. She stopped to look at the photographs scattered around, of friends, of family, of good times.
She wasn’t depressed. At least, she didn’t think she was. Work was good, life was good. She knew she really had nothing to complain about. So why was she trailing around like a lost puppy dog?
As she skimmed her fingers across the spines of her books, she came to rest on one of her favorites, a gushy romance novel she would never admit to reading in mixed company.
Pulling it off the shelf, she looked at the cover art, an impossibly beautiful woman gazing longingly into the eyes of an equally impossibly handsome man.
That was really the catch, she sighed, putting it back where she had found it, plopping down on the bed to stare at the ceiling. This great life, and no one to share it with.
Growing up, she had always thought she would be married by now. She wanted the husband, the kids, the house with the proverbial picket fence. But she also wanted her career, her independence, her own place in the world. She had always thought it was possible to have both. Lately, she had begun to doubt it.
It was so unfair how men could be successful and have a family, but women, even in this day and age, still had to choose. Why should she have to choose between work she loved and love itself? She knew she was capable of doing both, why couldn’t the world see that?
Fighting back the tears and knowing she had to stop before she worked herself up, Caitlin reached up to turn off the light. She rolled over, letting the darkness hug her curves.
As she let sleep claim her, she thought back over the choices she had made, knowing that, if she could do it all over again, there wasn’t much she would change. She liked who she was, what she was. She had chosen this path, and walked it with no regrets.
She just wished there was someone beside her to point out the sights and share in the beauty of the journey.
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Down With That!
I have decided the word "that" is one of the most over-used words in the English language, at least the written form. Why do people feel the need to throw random thats into every piece they write? Even good writers make this mistake.
On average, whether I am editing a story for my magazine or betaing a piece of fic for a friend, I find myself deleting the word that over and over again. Most of the time, it is just an extra word, requiring no other work to make the sentence read-able. To me, this is the true test: if it makes sense without that, don't use it.
Not to say there aren't appropriate times and places for that. It is an important little word, as innocuous as it may seem, and it does help bridge certain ideas. That is it's purpose.
See, it works there. But to say I feel that I dislike that because that is an overused word... NO! That sentence only needs to say: I dislike that because it is an overused word. Much more succinct. Much easier to read.
If I had a quarter for every that I edit out of written materials, I would be a very rich woman. I would probably be buried in quarters and thats.
