After a few semi-failed attempts at drawing a bit (failed because the little drawings looked terrible, successful because it cemented the idea that I still freaking love the malleability of pastels), and undoubtedly as a way to feel I accomplished something even though I'm ignoring the stack of dirty dishes and my generally messy apartment, I decided to finish typing my great-big-story-of-violence-and-awesomeness.

It's occurred to me that casually referring to it as "the rape story" proooooobably isn't the best idea. But it's also the thunderstorm story - so much so that I may snatch my title from T.S. Eliot ("What the Thunder Said", which is the final portion of "The Wasteland"). Only I'm worried it might be overkill.

And it occurs to me *now* that I really probably don't want to be giving away too much of my story...but I think there's going to be a good chunk of time between now and when I finally get this one online, you'll forget a bit won't you? Even as I'm typing, I'm finding things like discrepancy in a character's demeanor, and, uh, that's probably something that needs some hefty working-on. Also I'm not sure that I'm handling my repetitions of ideas properly. And I need to work on my scenes of violence, because right now it's like, someone's flung to the ground, then yanked roughly back up, then flung back down, then yanked back up.. rather ridiculously so. *giggles* So I'm fixing some as I type, but there's still things that'll need re-worded, and my bits where his state of mind is all emotional and irrational and distraught, I need to make sure make sense.

...not that that sentence even did. So you see my trouble.

But this sucker is like 12 handwritten (college-ruled) pages front and back. Which is a freaking behemoth of a story for me - and I'll only add to it in the editing stages.

Only I occasionally notice that I twisted something seriously out of whack in one wrist. Which is prooooobably not so good when you're doing this much typing.


My hair is in pigtails today (for the first time in probably ever) and I'm finding it endlessly entertaining. Tom looked quite confused when he came home for lunch, bwahaha. They're all short and twirly and bouncy.

Quite, in fact, like actual pig tails, now that I think of it. *collapses*


I'm still taking surveys quite frequently (it's good pocket money, and occasional cds and whatever - and I've currently got a test package of acne facewipe things from Neutrogena that I'm quite enjoying), and last night I ran into a rather odd one - asking my opinions on female empowerment, apparently, asking me what fictional female characters I found empowering and things...I kept drawing blanks, it was probably pretty sad. But one of the first things they asked was "How would you define empowerment?"

My answer: "My boyfriend, who's laying on the couch watching tv, just told me to go get him another slice of pizza. It's probably the opposite of that."

Tom lost it. I love it when I can make him laugh. (And, I figure, they always get all the same sorts of answers on these surveys - so I keep their job interesting whenever I can, being oddly honest when they're expecting canned answers.)


Alright enough procrastinating - back to typing, and, gaaahhhh, probably dishes soon. I really should have picked up some groceries today, but it's chilly out and I'm all spaced out (as I'm sure you've noticed by now), and I just really don't feel like going out. I hope I have enough rice left to make some dinner, we're finally at the bottom of another 10lb bag. XD