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The hands are much improved. The novel will still wait until Sunday, but I've been able to handle some light LJ/Facebook typing without pain, so I think the ice and ace wraps are done for now. Thankfully.

Not being able to write got me busy today. A new Pandora station based on my commercial pop playlist, some new icons for the LJ, links added to the sidebar, and I've started watching Law & Order: SVU from scratch. Ten seasons. Should be done by the end of summer. Pulpy crime stuff is nice to watch while writing. I learned that with Bones.

I shook off my emo from yesterday (which I now commemorate with a new emo icon) and don't want to know what all that was at all. Just tamp it back down again. I've got stuff to do.

I went googling myself to kill time and because it usually cheers me up. A little dangerous, because you never know when you'll find someone who isn't a fan, but I've never been hurt by anything written about my work (yet--you never know). Here's a guy being all derisive on "Happiness" and I'm fine with that. First of all, I wrote it when I was like eighteen and a quarter, so it's amazing that it's any good at all, and second, whatever: love and hate are completely comparable in my world. I came up slinging some Harry/Draco fic, so I'm comfortable with that. I like what I was doing in that story and in that paragraph, so what's the difference?

What I'm thinking is, I don't have to be all careful about other peoples' feelings, 'cause I get my fair share of snippy bullshit too. In fact that's usually how I make my friends, when someone says something bitchy near me, and our eyes meet across a sea of haterade, and I know that I've met a kindred soul. So why have I spent all day worrying about whether I'm too mean to strangers? That's not how this goes. I have too much freakin' time on these injured hands. Stupid tendinitis.

Also I found a good review, where the story is listed as one of the most polished in the collection. That helps too.

I just watched the first two seasons of Californication, and I don't know that that was a good idea, because it's kind of a scuzzy show and made me feel like a loser, which isn't great, because I'm already bummed at not being able to write, and I've been perpetrating some middle school evil from my bedroom. Usually when I have self esteem problems or my past embarrassments start plaguing me, I go sublimate that shit into some writing so I don't choke my LJ with self-pitying drama. Damn these wrists! A couple days away from fiction and I'm already starting to break.

I took down some shit from LJ that made me feel like a jerk and now I'm off to rest this hand again. The left one is pretty well healed, but the right one feels like it's getting re-injured at this very second. Why can't I stop it!

Refocus: happy thoughts. My sister wanted help coming up with a game handle, and I used her name (Erica) to come up with like the coolest handle ever: HystErica. She doesn't want it though. Too boss for her to handle I guess. /derp

I made this playlist a while ago when I was thinking about those booze ads. It's all great music that I only ever heard because the songs were played in commercials. I've forgotten the products, but I remember the songs. I feel like that's the best way to defeat the insidious power of advertising. Anyone else have commercial songs they like? I can hearz them too?

I was never very good at debate team. It's because when I argue my aim is to (1) be pithy, and (2) have the last word. That is the opposite of good debating. I know it.

The problem with LiveJournal is that it's my kind of debate all the time and no one around to stop me from putting both feet and a few pairs of shoes in my mouth. I forget that public means PUBLIC. To everyone. In the whole world. Including the very far away people I talk shit about. And I get a little vociferous thinking I'm only talking to my friends, myself, and my future fans. Now the question becomes: should I erase that shit and resolve to be less of a dick out loud, or should I own up to my locally brewed haterade and hope that context proves I'm not always evil?

This LJ allows me to construct the persona of someone a little more brash and nonchalant than myself. The point was to say what I think, put it someplace that doesn't recognize takes-backsies (the internet), and thereby force myself to stand by what I said. All of it, all the time. Teach me not to be a coward, courage of my convictions, etc. I may be making an ass of myself. Is it fair if I own up to that too?

If I think you suck, but I also recognize that I suck, does that mean we can be friends?

Okay, has seriously anyone tried to say that Merlin isn't gay (I'm talking to my friends--seriously?) because Jesus Christ yeah huh. Magic is:

- illegal
- something you are, not something you do
- misunderstood and feared
- a very personal revelation
- completely gay

Episode Ten, The Moment of Truth: gayest thing I've ever seen. "Omigod, Merlin, Arthur needs you just like you need him. He'll understand if you reveal yourself to him. You're two side of the same fabulous coin." Jeez.

My wrists are laid-up for a week: no novel. I shouldn't even be typing this, so if I'm gone a few days, know why. I'm not worried about the novel. Taking a week now it can still easily be done by the end of summer. Realistically it can wait as long as it has to, I'm not on a deadline. And this will give me time to think up new shit/really plan out the last three chapters. Mini vacation!

I was thinking about that Post Secret I linked to a couple posts ago. I used to think I'd never make it to college (this was before my mom died and I got a healthy dose of perspective) and I made a list of things I had to do before I dropped out of life. I figured the things would carry me past high school, and I was worried about "Omigod how am I going to do my own laundry let alone LIVE LIFE SCARY," but I would just have to survive scamming on my mom's care until I'd completed all the items. Then there would be nothing keeping me here, so if I didn't like it, I could go. Be advised: if my mom hadn't died we would have become a co-dependant nightmare and I wouldn't have made anything of myself. True story.

Anyway, I realized the other night that I've actually accomplished all the things on that list, except now I love my life, and I don't need a list keeping me here anymore. Some of the items I remember. Notice the lack of "see Paris and fall in love" or even "get laid" on this list. I had interesting priorities:

-see the end of Queer As Folk
-see the end of the Vampire Chronicles (I was 14, and they weren't worth living for)
-see the end of Harry Potter (just the books--I was a purist)
-publish a book of my own

I thought that last one would never happen. A little trick if you know anyone depressed or suicidal (or under the age of 17, not to be too overly redundant): you don't have to do that cheating shit where you add stuff to your bucket list with every accomplishment, just put down a bunch of crap that might never happen, but if they do happen, you'd stick around to enjoy them. Ha ha; tricked you into living!

I often promise to do things before I die (most of the time jokingly: "Lauren are you ever going to wash that dish?" "Yeah, before I die, I promise.") and yet I haven't really cared to finish anything specific for a while. I feel like I could die at any moment and be fine with all I'd done in life. Also, I haven't seriously thought about suicide since my mom killed herself, because like I said, that put stuff into perspective. Not that I wouldn't do it if I had nothing to live for, I just recognize how unserious most things are. It's the quickest way to talk myself out of anxiety: "Hmm, I really don't want to drive to the store because it stresses me out." And the voice in my head says, "Okay, you should just kill yourself then." And then I'm like, "That's a little much don't you think?" And the voice says "Oh I'm sorry, were you not the one complaining like the end of the world? If it's that horrible, just die." And then I'm like, "Fine, I'll get my keys." Be that drastic about everything, and you'll fucking just call the bank without being a just a baby about your awkward phone skills. Works for me.

I think I'd make a good suicide hotline couselor, don't you?

- This is totally tendinitis and it sucks. I've got my wrists on ice. This only happens when I write all day every day, like during summer and winter vacations. I brake for academics.

- Also, what is this, acid reflux? Something is smoldering at the base of my throat.

- Staying up today to reset my sleep schedule because I find I like being awake during the day. Who knew?

- Finished Bones, started Merlin, have a problem with Morgana: the show is going out of the way to say she's the King's ward, not his daughter, and that she Arthur definitely don't have the same father omgbbq they seriously don't, no freak outs. They have the same mother and enough of an incest taboo that you don't need to amp up all the ones we have. They're half siblings, they fuck, I'm fine with that. I wouldn't care if they were identical twins. I'm actually kind of into that. So calm down.

- And another thing about Merlin: MONDO GAY. My friends were right, and I'm glad I've got them on Gaywatch for me. I can't be everywhere at once.

...me too.

My arm/wrist tendons hate me. I've set up my computer differently and rested them for two days, but they still get angry at me. Hmm. Have to be careful about that. Any tips from other terminal typers?

Otherwise the writing is going okay. And I'm almost done with Bones, which will make the writing go faster. Making kissy faces at Stephen Fry and all the pseudo Ziggy Stardust stuff takes up a lot of time. And Sweets is a baby duck? Obobobo!

I also made accidental Hamburger Helper with a nacho cheese recipe that had too much salt, plus crumbled up hamburger, plus Ramen. Pretty tasty.

Also, Beaker Jr.'s speakers are still temperamental, and I suspect it has something to do with online video players, since that's the only time it acts up. Lame.

This movie officially rules way harder than I remember. Every SINGLE thing out of the skate rival's mouth was a double entendre, and I find that he is much more attractive to me now that I have a more sophisticated appreciation for people who (1) are evil and (2) aren't thirteen. I was easily able to write a secret plot where he uses sex as a weapon and skating to patch his masculinity. Completely hot; he was my favorite. However, that being said, I would still do every kid in this movie. They're fucking adorable.

Good plot too, not too outlandish, not too complicated, not complete lies. Good supporting cast, the family, the token chick, freakin' blue-eyed BJ who looks like my sociopathic character and who's name is BJ, which never got old. This is going to be an excellent Mystery GIFT when I get back to school. Be stoked.

Addendum: See what I mean?

Excerpted Skype conversation between jaz_alith and me, still talking Harry Potter after ten years of knowing each other/arguing about this crap. Check this logic:

[12:24:21 AM] Kirsten: mmm, harry and drace
[12:24:23 AM] Kirsten: *draco
[12:24:27 AM] Kirsten: they don't belong together
[12:24:43 AM] Lauren: yes they do
[12:24:53 AM] Lauren: who was right about dumbledore and grindelwald
[12:24:54 AM] Lauren: ?
[12:25:05 AM] Kirsten: you
[12:25:14 AM] Kirsten: omg, speaking of
[12:25:20 AM] Kirsten: we need her to write another book
[12:25:23 AM] Lauren: NO
[12:25:26 AM] Kirsten: I need more Harry Potter
[12:25:27 AM] Kirsten: yes
[12:25:32 AM] Lauren: it would such
[12:25:34 AM] Lauren: suck
[12:25:44 AM] Lauren: ever read sherlock holmes?
[12:25:46 AM] Kirsten: not if she wrote about the next generation
[12:25:58 AM] Lauren: he dies and then is resurrected and all that shit blew
[12:26:10 AM] Lauren: next generation is fanfiction bs, i don't need that
[12:26:25 AM] Kirsten: true, but I would love to learn more about little Albus Severus
[12:26:34 AM] Lauren: imagine it
[12:26:48 AM] Lauren: he and scorpius btw, totally happening
[12:27:06 AM] Kirsten: maybe
[12:27:20 AM] Lauren : i like little albus. he reminds me of Marley
[12:27:36 AM] Lauren : i hope he's in slytherin, that would be boss
[12:27:58 AM] Kirsten : I think he would be Gryffindor
[12:27:59 AM] Lauren: and the dynamic between him and his brother... makes me want to go back to writing fic
[12:28:08 AM] Lauren: no way, his initials are ASP
[12:28:21 AM] Kirsten: oh, I never noticed that
[12:28:29 AM] Lauren: he'll meet scorpius, and it'll go the opposite way of harry draco
[12:29:00 AM] Lauren: they'll meet, and he'll like scorpius, and his brother would be against him in slyth. so he'd want to do it to be brave and defiant
[12:29:08 AM] Lauren: and choice matters, just like with harry
[12:29:26 AM] Lauren: and then he and scorpius would be boyfriends by the time they're 14
[12:29:31 AM] Kirsten: an interesting interpretation of so little information given
[12:29:37 AM] Kirsten: but that is a definite possibility
[12:29:42 AM] Lauren: Fanfiction teaches you things
[12:29:51 AM] Lauren: like how to pull extrapolations out of your ass
[12:29:58 AM] Lauren: it's good for a lit degree too

Erik von Detton shows up as a bit dude in a lot of pulp crap TV shows (most recently I saw him in an episode of Bones), and every time I see him, all I do is remember the Disney Channel Original Movie Brink! which I thought was the shit (I was ten) and have wanted to see again for a thousand years, because I remember pre-pubescent gay. HOLY SHIT I FINALLY FOUND IT MYSTERY GIFT I'M SERIOUS.

Also I joined She Writes because she does, and I officially invite by other writerly LJ buddies to join (guys are welcome too).

I had a dream where two pregnancy paraphernalia stores open up in the same shopping center, featuring Lisa Lampanelli, Lisa Kudrow, Michael Ian Black, some Spice Girls again, and a friendly lesbian I know from school. Find me the dream dictionary that covers all that. Psychotic.

I had a great day for writing yesterday and finished that section and the one for today, completing Chapter Eleven. Now I have two days off to let the tendons in my arms heal. I need to learn to sit properly IMMEDIATELY since I'll be doing this typing thing forever.

I'm going to read and watch Bones all day.

- I start sleeping/walking around in booby shirts or without pants.

- I talk to my computer out loud.

- I watch porn with no headphones on and the bedroom door wide open.

- I cook things in the kitchen.

- I get some writing done during the day.

- I listen to folk and bluegrass music knowing I won't get a lecture (right now: Alison Krauss and Patty Griffin--gorgeous).

- I stay up until dawn without a hint of guilt.

- I hide a knife near my bed in case rapists and/or murders come down from the hills.

Being alone is a give-and-take sort of thing.

Ah yes: Florida plot + Stephen Fry = this is going to be a fun episode of Bones. The gross filming drunk girls guy looks like the perv who perved on my sister. Like a middle-aged sunburned baby. Ew.

Writing: progressing. I'm back on a normal college schedule and halfish way through my quota. But I also did extra work today. Because I was slacking all week. Because of Bones.

Onward awkward soldiers!

Jack's Mannequin: acapella. Oh my god, it's so fucking good. I like to write with emo music on, but this isn't helping because I have to stop and gape at it. Jesus, how pretty!

I'm building up back chapters and doing today's word quota. No TV until I'm done. Rules. I'm serious this time.

In Ellijay, GA the middle school, high school, and nursing home are lined up right next to each other on the same street. Progression of life, blah blah blah, right across the street is the baseball field and a government building with lots of flags outside, but all of them American. If I had read about this street in a book instead driven down it, I would have thrown up. I got a little queasy anyway. Little Town, America is a sad, schlocky place.

I'm on the second season of Bones and have started reading Dancer From the Dance. My dad is gone indefinitely to New England where we have kinfolk. Tomorrow I start writing the third and final part of my novel. It all sounds a lot busier than I look.

Dream: I had lunch with the Spice Girls and someone old inside a Mad Men warehouse but also my high school. I had a salad. That's how I knew it was a dream. Now I have "2 Become 1" stuck in my head.

My favorite author just enabled comments on LJ (this person is why I started a LiveJournal, also why I started writing for serious). Must. Not. Abuse.

I crapped out last night at 1,000 words, but only after I had a plan for the what to do with the next thousand and stern instructions to get today's section done regardless (which is only 1,000 words itself). There's a great fight in the next chapter that I want to write. May it motivate me.

I've started watching Bones at the fannish behest of two of my roommates, and because I've run out TV. After this will be Merlin, and then I'll just have to wait for new episodes like everyone else. Lame.

I was fucking off all day and not thinking about this section, and now I don't know what the hell I'm going to write about for 2,000 words. I've got a character, he's in a place, repeat for 2,000 words. I've spent all day pecking to get about 500 words, most of which doesn't count because the last section was short. All the interesting shit happens in Part Three, and I want to go there but I can't yet. Poo.

My wrists and forearms have been getting upset lately. All this typing. Damn you, novel! Write yourself, you lazy brat.