October 9th, 2004



Yesterday, I spent three hours "writing" and wrote only 252 words, crawling through what might be page four of Daughter of Hounds. This book just isn't beginning. There's something I don't know, or many, many things I don't know, that are preventing me from moving forward. In a lot of ways, beginnings can be the worst part of writing. Beginnings are where we begin to eliminate possibilities. Every page I write, I eliminate that much possibility. Anyway, I'm so disgusted with this that I'm not touching it again until Monday. Maybe two days just trying to think about the book will help me figure something out. And then I can kill possibility with more efficiency.

The cough is much better. I think the frelling Benadryl actually helped.

My cat is suing me for putting nude pictures of her on the web. I think I may trade her in on a tarantula.

No, I didn't watch the debates. Why would I want to watch two people who hate each other yammering back and forth? I mean, didn't I get enough of that as a kid? I do not need to watch the debates to know which is the lesser of two evils. And that's all this is, the choosing of little e over Big E. That's the game. I'm too old to entertain fantasies of third-party big G (or even little g, which is the best Ralph Nader et. al. could ever muster). I have no doubt Kerry is a dispicable, greedy, coniving slug. He is, after all, a successful politician. But he's still a better choice than the Big E from Texas. Maybe it's not even a matter of little e and Big E; maybe it's Big E and Bigger E, or little e and littler e, or only various shades of indifference (which might be the Biggest E of all). Whatever. I didn't need to watch the frelling debates to know who I'll vote for. Or rather, I didn't need to watch the frelling debates to know who I'll be voting against. And politics bores me sideways, to boot.

After the brief, resounding disappointment of Star Wars: Battlefront (I know this is the first time I've mentioned it; shut up and bear with me), we picked up Sudeki last night. So far, it's proving quite delightful, despite requiring multitasking skills that I entirely lack. It's one of those games that can only be fully appreciated by someone born after, say, 1985. Someone who grew up playing videogames (and I don't mean the old-school arcade kind that I grew up playing). Preferably, someone Japanese with an IQ in excess of 170 (mine is a mere 149). Nonetheless, it's a fun game (which is more than I could ever say for Star Wars: Battlefront). Sexy anime kids, terrible dialogue, sappy jpop, colours that don't exist in nature, implied bestiality, and lots of ass-kicking. That's what I call fun. I played until three a.m.

Spooky's still hooked on Morrowind. I think she actually enjoys it. Anyway, blah, blah, blah. Same day, different dren. You know the routine. Later.
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    The Crúxshadows, "Winterborn"