In lieu of editing, I’m going to post a blog entry. Cuz it’s more fun and I just worked all day. And I want to try something. I’m writing this entry in metapad. Check it out. It’s awesome. I love simple fast no-frills free software. YES!

Okay, so far I am calmer in here. It’s purple, by the way. I know, I’m too obsessed with that color. I getcha. I’ll stop now.

Did I actually have anything left to say? I forgot to post an excerpt from my novel. A longer one. I meant to do that, but then…. I forgot. And I realize now it was really spoilery. Maybe it’s better to just read it with no… okay “spoilers” is the only word I can think of. Damn, it’s hot in here.

The other day I was making muffins and I was having trouble with measuring or something and I found myself saying, “Not so funny now, is it, baking mix?” If my neighbors could hear me…. Well, they’d think I’m as crazy as they already think I am. Especially the girl who looks at me like I’m wearing dead ferrets all over my body when she sees me in the hall. Okay, one time I went out in my pajamas to get a package. Get over it! The other time she gave me a look like that I was wearing sunglasses inside and I probably looked like… Morticia wearing sunglasses inside. People always think I’m angry and scary when they see me. Then they find out I am nice and harmless and all is fine. But all I did was look at her and she said, “Oh. Sorry.” I think I just kept walking. I was in a hurry. This is why I never EVER wear black anymore. It freaks people out, and I look so pale and dark haired people expect me to be wearing black. So, none of that! My gothy picture sort of grew out of that. Now it’s the only picture of me that I like cuz I’m thin in it! Thinking of taking some new pics. Of me looking more how I look. Or something.

That was a long paragraph. I think I’m probably too relaxed because I’m on my own computer still. Not on the web. Zzzzz…… Excellent. This is becoming very diary-like. Ummm…. I lost 9 pounds! It’s probably bad luck to say that, yes? But I refuse to believe that. I will just quietly lose 9 more and then 9 more, and you don’t want to know how many more after that. But a lot. I want to be able to breathe again! But then the broken springs in my bed will start to bother me, cuz I won’t have all this natural padding anymore. Hey, the springs were broken when I got the hand-me-down bed. Get your mind out of the gutter. Not that it necessarily was in the gutter, I’m just preempting the thoughts. Speaking of beds. They were giving away the old hotel beds when I worked at the hotel, but I just couldn’t bring myself to take one. Dude, hotel beds. A gazillion people sleeping in one bed is bad enough, and I will leave it at that! Was that prudish and stupid? I mean, it’s not like I’ve never slept in a hotel bed. Jeesh….. Okay, enough with the sexual undertones paragraph.

I should stop talking about my book in here. I don’t know how long it will take me to nitpick it to perfection. Enough to be published. But, ummm… I can’t help it! Maybe I should post that spoilery excerpt. Then you can know if it’s the kind of book you’d be into or if you’d rather skip it. Now what kind of an attitude is that? I’m such a great salesperson. Sheesh. Okay, first of all:

fugue (fyoog): A psychological disturbance in which actions are not remembered after return to a normal state.

Crap, I just dumped a bunch of pens all over the floor. Anyway! Cool definition, no? Okay, now the excerpt. It’s full of those spoilers I warned you about, so if you don’t want to know too much about the book, stop reading now!

[beginning of Fugue scene]

She came to with a start. She almost fell over. She was standing at the big sink in a laundry room, possibly her own. Her hands were running something under the faucet, cold water made her hands feel icy. She looked down and jumped again. Blood.

She was washing blood out of a light blue shirt. She started to cry. Her hands kept washing the shirt, controlled by Kayla or Zane, or just momentum, she did not know.

“You killed again,” Rachel said angrily out loud.

There was no answer.

“Zane!” she yelled into the air.

‘We have to,’ Zane said quietly in her head. ‘Or they’ll kill us or lock us up.’

Rachel kept scrubbing the shirt furiously. As if she could really wash away the murder.

“Who was it this time?” Rachel asked finally, quietly.

‘A stranger,’ Zane said. Then she took over the body, “That’s all you’ll ever need to know.”

Rachel faded to black again.

[end of Fugue scene]

Well?! What do you think? Eeee! I mean, ‘cough’, questions? Comments? Yes, it does seem to be a book that showcases how warped I am. Or at least “welcome to my nightmares.” Geesh. I have a lot of murderous nightmares. Had one the other day. Actually too disgusting to talk about. Yup. Hate that.

Hey, I haven’t flipped out yet in here. I think it was the text box that was making me crazy. Wow. Internet feng shui is a real thing….. Bwahahahaa. I mean. You know. Simple is better. That’s what I mean. Even if I sound more like a crazy maniac on my own computer than elsewhere. Whatever.

I was gonna link to a song I’ve been liking on the radio lately. It’s a girly pop song. Okay, here it is: Link. I’d never seen that video before. She may be too pretty. Anyway. Yes, I know it’s soooo embarrassing that I like girly pop songs. I have whole mixed tapes called “Girl Music”. Lame! But but but…. it can’t be helped! I want to like deep meaningful independent music, but… if they coat a song with sugar and give it a nice catchy tune, apparently I will listen to it. Wow. I walked into work once and someone said, “What music were you blasting in your car?!” “Michelle Branch.” Did I hear a snicker?!!!! I don’t know. Let’s embarrass me more, what else am I into?

There, I picked up the pens from the floor now. Well, most of them. Some of them fell behind the scanner table. They’re dead to me now! Mostly because I can’t reach them. And they aren’t very good pens anyway. Cheap!

Now I feel bad for insulting girly pop songs. Sorry, girly pop songs! I couldn’t think of another thing to embarrass myself about. Briefly I was sure there was something. It’s just funny how not gothy that is. And yet I have a gothy photo. Well, not here anymore. Just on MySpace and Twitter and such. Why am I talking so long? It is waaaaay too comfy in this text box. I’m gonna copy and paste this into the bright world and see how I feel about it then. Let the spellchecker do its magic. Then release the blog entry into the wild, as it should be. “Borrnn freeee……!” Okay, lame!

I always worry I’m insulting someone somewhere. Now the makers of “Born Free.” Sheesh! Or insulting the people who wear gothy make-up. Which is lovely! Keep it up! I just don’t think it’s for me. Hmm. Which I knew, and have never worn it in the land of reality. Though I was a weird new waver chick with red hair and a tail and purple mascara. (Yes, purple again!) I also had teal mascara, and blue! God, that’s embarrassing! I knew there was something else! I have pictures. No I do not!!!! Hehe. And apparently, now that I’ve Googled, I was not so much into new wave music as a teen. I was into…. ummm…. ‘cough’… girly pop! I have to stop coughing in this entry. I’m going to get a sore throat. Geez!

Wow, this entry is only 8kb long. Or whatever. I don’t know if that’s huge or not. Just another text box to learn. Is that 8,000 characters? Bytes. Whatever. Quit geeking out! Oh, that was directed at me, not you.

And now here I am having a hard time letting go. Hmm. It’s nice in here. Quiet.

But I have to go. I have to eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, work, etc. Okay, I’m going. Let’s see if this entry makes it to the blog unscathed…. Later.

Out of pure boredom I discovered a person can eat popcorn like a frog cuz it sticks to your tongue, but you probably shouldn’t do that with a shared bowl of popcorn cuz that would be gross. Or impolite, whatever.

I just needed a blog entry title. Whatever!

I made the text box bigger. Woohoo! I realized I’m in the mood for a blog entry today cuz…. look at my Twitter feed. Somewhere to the right –>

I’ve been babbling like a maniac all day. I really only get to babble on the weekends. Not much time during the week. All the fun websites are blocked from my work computer! They are afraid we will use up all the bandwidth in the network downloading big files. Which we apparently all used to do. I used to use You Tube as a radio before I had one at work…. tee hee hee. Oops.

Okay. Man, I’m full of popcorn. Again. I re-read my last entry and it was more full of chaos than usual. Sooooo. I wanted to explain myself! About old movies. Ummm. What I meant was…. I realize that old movie dialogue is still all toned down or ramped up or simplified or stylized or chosen precisely. BUT what they thought was cool in dialogue in the past says a lot about that time period, you see? And also the common words and phrases that they took for granted and threw in there anyway. I can’t think of an example, but I love quirky old movie dialogue. Liiiike, if someone said, “Have you a quarter?” I don’t know!

Unrelated to the coolness of old movie dialogue and it’s quirky specific time period-ness, I found some cool dialogue in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie that whipped by too fast to remember. Putting the DVD back in! Okay, I found it. It’s much less awesome out of context, but when watching it, it’s pretty darn cool. “If scandal is to your taste, Miss Mackay, I shall give you a feast!” Well, that made me sit up and take notice. The dialogue is very writerly. Eee!

Dialogue is my favorite thing to write in a book. I hate describing things. But I love writing the dialogue. You know what this means, don’t you? I should be writing scripts! But Hollywood is too unpredictable. There’s no way my writing would go from the computer screen to the big (or small) screen intact. Too many influences along the way. I’d rather say it my way. Give it a short journey. From my computer screen to your computer screen. Less chance of it getting screwed up!

Why am I talking about writing? Cuz it’s an editing day. Oop, I forgot to save the day’s editing. I burn it to the same disc after every editing session. Seems to work. I have no floppy disc drive now. Well, the new machine has one. But it has sort of become my foot rest. Evil! Blasphemous! I just have nowhere else to put it right now. Is it weird that I’m gonna take the Lysol wipes to it to get the “foot germs” off it? I can never tell. I’m OCD, but when other people are grossed out by something I’m always surprised. “Oh, there are things that gross you out then?” Rude, I know! But but but… a quick rinsing in the sink is not a hand washing! Don’t you hate it when you hear the toilet flush and immediately someone comes out of the bathroom still tucking in their shirt? Grosssss! Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today. It’s the new text box. It makes me strangely confessional. Ooo, this is like a mini confessional. Intriguing.

Don’t know why that reminded me, but I saw Nathan Fillion in PG Porn. Sooo funny. Oh dear God.

Okay, this text box is freaking me out. It’s making my blog entries different! Stupider. It’s like that superstition of not being able to win at cards with an old deck. Or a new deck? Whatever. The other day my mother told me she had to buy a new deck of cards cuz she couldn’t win at solitaire anymore, but now she can again… WHAT???! She says, “You know. Cuz you can’t win with an old deck.” What???!

Argh. That’s so creepy. That my blog entries are turning out differently. It’s like I feng shui-ed my site and now the chi is different or something…..? Hate it! Hate change! Must rebel! Noooooo, I have to stay here. I will just have to learn the new weird energy of this box. You know what? It’s like how I can’t write song lyrics, but I can write poetry. ??? It’s because it’s like people are watching with the song lyrics. With the poetry, nobody’s gonna read that. So, I’m pretty much alone. Heh. Now it’s like people are watching because…. there are all these links all over this page to go visit whatever, and it saves my drafts every 5 seconds, and it’s pretty much like I’m not alone here. It’s creepy.

Okay, that was the craziest paragraph ever. Did I just tell the world that my blog is haunted??!!

That’s it, it’s time to go watch more How I Met Your Mother. Gah! Cuz I got them in the mail finally. My DVDs. I can’t even form a full sentence anymore. Dammit!

Okay, I guess that’s all I had to say today. Don’t know how long this will be. That’s one of the quirky “problems” with this text box. I’m gonna have to do a ritual smudging with sage in here. “You remember how we talked about saying things quietly to yourself first?” “Yes, but there isn’t always time…” -Friends. Heh. Dammit, enough with the spooky box! Adios, amigos!

You must think I am so off my fruit loops….. Damn. Later!

Weird. I type a title, and it immediately makes a permalink. Yikes. It keeps saving my drafts. Weirdness. Okay. Here I am in the new blog. I see no smilies! What’s that about? I’m childish, where are the smilies? Maybe there’s a button to click. I’ll ponder it later.

Testing, one, two.

One click on “enter” moves me down 2 lines. Not liking that. Man, I’m boring.

Excellent. I changed it to HTML, and now I can do what I want. Ha! Okay.

I just watched The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Wickedly weird. Awesome and bizarre. Saw the end of it more than a decade ago and just got around to renting it to see the rest of it. Not bad. It’s still messing with my head. Yeeks.

I love the dialogue in old movies. Even now if someone wrote a movie about the past it wouldn’t have dialogue as quirky as this in it. Because it wouldn’t be actually from the past. It would be stylized or simplified or something. Toned down or cleaned up or clarified. Neat. Sigh.

I didn’t get any sleep again. Yay me. Oh, well, less time to dream about murder. Just kidding. I don’t always dream about murder. Ooo, that reminds me. I had this awesome dream the other night. I had just gotten a job, with other people, and we were being lectured about it. It was a job in our chosen field, but it was the bottom of the totem pole, boring. This woman said to us that we could learn a lot here, even though it’s not where we want to stay, even though it’s just a beginner’s job, a stepping stone, she said to stay as long as we could and learn as much as we could and “leave in tears.” Woa. Now that sounds nasty and not fun, but I thought it was awesome. That sounds like something I would do. Hold onto something too long. Until I can’t stand it anymore. Whatever! But hopefully I learned from it, whatever it was. Cuz I’m hoping it’s over, and not just beginning. This phase in my dream. If dreams really are symbolic of reality. Hmm. I can’t be serious in this text box. It’s not whimsical enough. I’ll have to fix that.

God, it’s dark in here. It’s a stormy day. I’d say it’s time for lunch, but I just ate an entire bag of popcorn. Oops. Popcorn is not good with a movie from the 1960’s about the 1930’s where everyone has a Scottish brogue. Hmph. But I chewed quietly. It was all good.

Shit. It just occurred to me I will have no idea when I’ve written enough. I mean, I have to learn this scroll bar —> That’s my measurement. You can’t see it, I don’t know why I pointed at it. Lol.

I drove through a herd of 9 deer the other day. Lots of little ones too. Not through them, you understand. They were on the sides of the road. With cars slowing down to gawk at them, me included. Cute! I saw a herd of 7 a few days before that. They blend in so well it’s startling to realize they are there. “Oh!” Try… not… to hit…. deer….

Too dark. It’s 3:15. Come ON.

I have this purse with a cracked handle and whenever I hang it on my arm and start to walk it bites me with each step. Chomp, chomp… I thought that story would take longer. I should get a new purse maybe. I haven’t had it that long, but I guess it was cheap. $8. Let’s see if that becomes a smilie. If not, damn Wordpress all to hell!!!! –Sorry. I turned on a light, that should improve my mood. It’s the beginning of the season of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Woohoo.

The other day I walked into my mother’s house and she looked at me in horror and said, “What’s on your shirt?!!?” I stopped dead in my tracks (okay, not DEAD, play along) and said, “WHAT?” I looked at my shirt expecting to see a giant leech or a creature from Alien, the ones that attach themselves to people’s faces. I was all in a panic, seeing nothing and going, “What?!” She looked closer and said, “Oh, nevermind, that’s part of the design.”

DAMMIT.

I swear she does this to me on purpose. It was a lime green shirt with some lime green net stuff stuck to it. Just nevermind….

I threw out the herbal tincture I was making. It looked too frightening to me. I don’t know. I’m gonna try again with boiling vinegar and let it sit for only one day. No time to become frightening. Though I read that boiling vinegar steam will — I forget what, sear your eyebrows off? Something. Not really. It’s just…. well, I imagine it’s pretty darn caustic. Good enough!

I’m all out of chocolate body wash. Oh wait, I have two more bottles. Okay, nevermind. It’s not really chocolate scented. It’s something else, like brazilian nut. But it has that fake chocolate smell that reminds you of something trying to smell like chocolate, like scratch ‘n sniff stickers or…. a candle, I don’t know. But not the way chocolate actually smells. Just when you smell it you think, “Ahh, something that’s trying to smell like chocolate. Yummy!” Good enough. I say again.

There’s been a “wet paint” sign hanging near the front door of my building all week. I think they painted the door on Monday and then forgot the sign. So every time I go through the door now I have to test it first with a finger, see that it’s dry, then push it open. !!! Cuz I figure they could come back to do a second coat. And I don’t want to touch the door handle because that’s all, you know, germapalooza or something. (Sometimes I sneak up there with a Lysol wipe and wipe it down, shhhh!) I usually open the door with my BUTT. Why is that capitalized? But I figure easier to wash paint off my hand than my pants, eh? With my luck I’ll barge out the door today and they really will have put a second coat of paint on it. Bastards. Geesh, I’m mad already and it hasn’t even happened yet.

My imagination is too good. I got out of my car at the store and it was raining underneath the truck next to me. Only there. Losing fluids, mister? Then I came back out and noticed a wee little bitty boy shoe laying on the ground near the truck, and also near a grate. Over the…. gutter, sewer? Whatever. And I made up a whole story of kidnapping and giant sewer creatures snatching a little boy (minus his shoe) from a parking lot and him being dragged around alive by the kidnappers and/or sewer creature and “we have to get to him in time!” You see why I automatically think alien creature from outer space when someone says there’s something on my shirt instead of - I don’t know - thinking tiny Earth spider? I think too much!

You know what I noticed? A fake drug I thought I made up for Fugue is actually a fake drug from a Buffy episode. Yeeks. You really have to watch what gets into your subconscious when you’re writing something. I’ll change the name to something else. I Google all the words and names I make up to make sure they aren’t already made up. Or aren’t words already in another language or something. Or acronyms. Whatever.

I just realized there’s a button I can push for italics. We’ll see if that makes italics. That’s not the code I use!

Sigh. I need to change the heck out of this text box. Make it something I like to swim around in. Needs work. Hmph.

I guess I will go now. This may be a short entry. Or super huge. I can’t really tell. Oh well. Now I have to change many things all around it! Navigation links, webring codes, bah!

Okay, I’ll quit whining and go. Later.