dreaming of mercy street
Mar. 31st, 2005 10:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darklunaI bought a little speaker to attach to my MP3 player, and within hours, someone (*cough*Anya*cough*) had chewed through the line connecting the two.
Oooh, I was pissed. Mostly at myself for forgetting that I can't leave things like that sitting around if I don't want them destroyed. But now a better cable is in place, thick enough that it seems safe (they only love to chew the skinny ones, so phone lines and thick power cords are safe), though I hide it when not in use just in case.
This week I am addicted to Meadowlands by the Wrens. And Dope Wars, that stupid little DOS game where you go around buying and selling drugs. My mom, a woman who has never so much as smoked a cigarette, whose total mind-altering substance regimen is daily coffee and a sip of champagne on New Year's Eve, is the best damn Dope Wars player I have ever seen.
I've been in a bad mood lately, having a resurgence of the low self-esteem. This is directly attributable to two things: not working out, and not writing.
The next scene I need to write in the post-apocalyptic fairy tale is one where most of the interesting stuff is in what the characters aren't saying, and it's been giving me trouble for months. I tried to explain it out loud and nearly tied my tongue in knots. They each need or want something from the other, but it's a question or request related to something neither has a habit of talking about to strangers. AUUGH.
I crave an icon for this story, but as my drawing is for shit, oh well.
Oooh, I was pissed. Mostly at myself for forgetting that I can't leave things like that sitting around if I don't want them destroyed. But now a better cable is in place, thick enough that it seems safe (they only love to chew the skinny ones, so phone lines and thick power cords are safe), though I hide it when not in use just in case.
This week I am addicted to Meadowlands by the Wrens. And Dope Wars, that stupid little DOS game where you go around buying and selling drugs. My mom, a woman who has never so much as smoked a cigarette, whose total mind-altering substance regimen is daily coffee and a sip of champagne on New Year's Eve, is the best damn Dope Wars player I have ever seen.
I've been in a bad mood lately, having a resurgence of the low self-esteem. This is directly attributable to two things: not working out, and not writing.
The next scene I need to write in the post-apocalyptic fairy tale is one where most of the interesting stuff is in what the characters aren't saying, and it's been giving me trouble for months. I tried to explain it out loud and nearly tied my tongue in knots. They each need or want something from the other, but it's a question or request related to something neither has a habit of talking about to strangers. AUUGH.
I crave an icon for this story, but as my drawing is for shit, oh well.
