Inexplicably Sad.

I don’t know why, but after I post a new chapter to a story, or even after posting a short story like I did before this post…

I feel kind of bad. 

Not in a moral or physical way, but sort of emotionally bereft? I dunno. 

I just spent ages and ages working on this thing, and there, I just posted it… 

Now what?

I just posted a new chapter for my story Too Tired To Wink, which I actually don’t feel like linking to, you can find it on if you feel the need, and for this story I decided that I would post a chapter only once the word count has reached 10k…. this way I have a set limit, and since the limit is so large, I get a couple of things out of it. 

1) I don’t feel like a shit person for making people wait so long for an update and gave them 3 pages of nothing

2) Though I do anyway, in 10k a lot of plot happens and I have to keep thinking about what will need to happen for this or that to happen, so I have a chance to put reasonable foreshadow in

3) I don’t go through any of that waffling of if something’s done or not. When I’m reaching or have surpassed 10k, I find a place to stop. It’s like reaching that point of night where you’re like “Well, this book doesn’t actually have chapters….” and you just figure out the best stop to hold off at. 

But though it’s good to finish a chapter–good to finish a story–there’s still some weird blankness after posting. 

I feel like having a break from writing, and I want to hear feedback, and… and I really don’t feel like doing much else. 

So, in the wake of T3W’s third chapter, I’m writing this. 

Just feeling a bit morose. Inexplicably sad. 


Dear Hotmail Outlook…

Dear Hotmail. You suck for changing everything to Outlook. 

It’s ugly and I hate it. 

If I had known that closing my e-mail and reopening it mere moments later to have it changed to Outlook, I would have kept it up forever. 

You suck. 

.. This is me being unhappy with changes as abrupt as this, like when the TARDIS turned into a sci-fi terminal from a mish-mash of organic everything. 

I dislike this more than I dislike the huge change from THIS to THIS

I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but for now it looks boring and ugly and I DIDN’T CHOOSE THIS!

Sincerely, me. (And probably others)

P.S. You suck for making it so that we can’t respond to your “By the way we’re changing everything neener-neener thhhhhbbbt” message. You’re smart because you’d be getting a bunch of complaints (I dare you to look up “How to change back from Outlook” ), but… You just suck. 


Video Vendredi– Think Creatively

So, a friend suggested this to me, and I watched it…

And then things went wrong.

I laughed, and smiled… and then the smile eventually went away.

Not a scary video, just a very strange one.

I thought it was for kids, and then… well.

Just watch it.

Bloody Mary: The weirdest massage ever

I’ve heard of a number of massages, and the weirder ones are usually the ones that sound the most painful.

The idea that people pay to have someone slap them around and thump them to get knots out of their muscles is weird to me, as is the idea of placing hot stones over your joints, but obviously it works, otherwise it wouldn’t be popular.

Acupuncture as a form of massage (or other relief, I don’t know what you would call it) makes me curious even as it makes me shiver.

As a side note, why is it, in cartoons, acupuncturists always seem to have poison needles as well as normal needles? And why must they place the two boxes side by side?

Moving on.

Through reading manga (Lexy, Mom, I’m taking a BREAK from studying, sheesh…) (a yaoi romance HERE if you’re curious, explicit just to warn you) I saw mention of a weird massage.

I thought that Bloody Mary was only a drink, but apparently not.

Someone somewhere decided that it was a good idea to make it into a massage as well. Or a wrap. It involves doing both as far as I understand

Yes, it has vodka involved.

And many tomatoes.

I’m not going to go too much into it, as I am still mostly baffled as to why someone would decide to make this into a massage (though, like acupuncture, I am fascinated and curious and kind of maybe want to try it)

You can read another blog HERE about more details. Apparently it makes your skin really smooth as well, and gets the blood pumping (due to vodka, and you don’t even drink it!)

I just thought it was weird.

I didn’t really think that people used so much food in such ways outside of that one episode from The Weekenders (cartoon I loved watching) where the ever-changing Pizza Place was a spa, and they had Cheese wraps (actually wrap them up) and pepperoni slices to place over their eyes.

Speaking of cheese, For those who have read about my complaints about my Roommates (here here and here), an update. They ate all of my cheese. It was a big block of it. They ate it all.

This is unacceptable.

I just want them to stop eating my stuff... Is that too much to ask for?

So yeah, weird massage/wrap sharing and profound sadness over cheese thieves.

My life.


Sleepy Ponderings 2… ANGER

The guy called again..

Last night… or rather this morning. For those confused, read this small blurb

Same, frigging number… what the hell???

AND… where the hell is he calling from?

I think he’s stupid as hell, but at the same time, I’m not going to give out his number… but where the hell has an area code of (250)???

AND… I was looking at the call log of my phone… looks like he tried calling about 5 days ago.

How many times can you call the same wrong number?

And why do you have to do it so early?

This morning he called me TWICE.

At TOTALLY different times.

ONCE at 2am…

ANOTHER time at 4am.


I am absolutely baffled.

I just looked up where area code (250) is…

British Columbia. 

British frigging Columbia

This makes no sense to me.

WHO is he trying to call? He called five days ago once, yesterday twice, this morning twice

And I have a Toronto area code.

Is he trying to call someone in Toronto?

And not realizing at all that he’s missing by about 5-6 hours away?

Since I’m in frigging Ottawa?

Toronto OR Ottawa, frigging long way away

This is just BAFFLING to me. Even if I knew specifically what city in BC he was in, the difference is still huge! And he called five times.

How can you cal the same wrong number so many times?

And at totally ridiculous times???

I don’t understand this…

My frustrations at being woken up at such ridiculous times knows no bounds, and my anger early this morning at my phone going off was immense and soul crushing.


This anger was translated from my frustrations last night, resolved as I finally went to bed, and dug up again as Placebo’s ‘Pure Morning’ (funny, now that I think on it) rang out and warring states of my mind groggily woke up.

One part says I should just hang up.

The other says no… pick it up.

It might be important.

For those who have read my other posts, you may guess I’ll be referring to Insanity and Sanity.

Well I have to mention now that IF I had listened to Sanity, I wouldn’t have answered the phone.

I wouldn’t have had that moment of “Oh shit, it’s the guy from yesterday” calm before the storm thought, before he said the EXACT SAME THING he said before. But at that early a time, any angry rants had to muddle through the thick screen of shouldn’t-I-be-asleep-right-now? fog. People have joked about fog before, talking about how it was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I remember a Scooby-doo episode where he cut out a fog cookie from the air and ate it.

This fog, at that time, was too thick for that. You would need an axe to even dent this fog. And the conversation was done too quickly for such actions to be taken my inner rant maker, my inner angry child.


“Oh, um, I think I have the wrong number”

“… Yes, you do. Don’t do it again.”

“Oh, uh–“


And so I hung up and spent a good couple of minutes being angry at myself for not yelling at him. Then the fog of tiredness came up and knocked me out with it’s solidness.

Two hours later, Pure Morning started twanging and then drumming me to wakefulness, and this time I listened to Sanity’s first bit of advice, and hung up immediately.

I now recognize the assholes number.

Of course, this being the second call that early in the morning, Sanity was now agreeing with Insanity, ignoring the niceties that you should observe when on the phone, and was urging me to pick up the phone and ask why, exactly, he was calling ANYONE at that time of the day, and then swear at him until HE was the one to hang up.

The next time he calls, IF he calls (hope he doesn’t for the most part), I hope I’m aware enough to ask who the hell he keeps trying to call.

Oh, and one other obvious question.