Haven’t had a drop of alcohol, but my wingstubs were bugging me, so I took a Clonazepam. Now I am loopy. When I try to walk, I stagger and stumble about with my balance all wonkified, and fosteronfilm informs me my speech is slurring. And there’s a certain mild euphoria going on. Wheeeee!
For something completely different: science is sometimes less than lofty. Check out the IgNobel awards. At last, recognition for the uninspired, pointless, and possibly profoundly underfunded scientific research studies. I’m especially amused by the Biology (“A Survey of Frog Odorous Secretions”) and Fluid Dynamics (“Pressures Produced When Penguins Pooh”) winners.
I’m waiting on pins and needles for a couple responses from editors, and as I did my little mailbox pilgrimages yesterday, I was thinking about a a great invention: a mailbox sensor that triggers a buzzer inside the house when a delivery happens. If I had one of those, I wouldn’t have to keep running back and forth between the window and the couch (if I’m lucky and have something outgoing) to see if the flag’s been dropped, or worse, making several fruitless trips to the mailbox and undoubtedly being perceived by my neighbors as the crazy mailbox lady*. This nifty device would ensure that I’d always know exactly when the mail carrier arrived.
That’s just sad, isn’t it? And I’d probably end up like one of Pavlov’s dog and start drooling every time the buzzer went off. Yes, my patience is fractured beyond the telling of it. That muscle don’t work so good.
Thanks to this post of tiellan‘s, I applied for a fantasy writing contract job. Had a phone interview for it yesterday (I cannot stress how very much I suck at phone interviews; written correspondence or face-to-face, it’s all good, on the phone, I fall apart) and I appear to have lined myself up a tentative contract gig. Details to be hammered out in the nearish future, but the plan is that I’ll be doing 6-8 weeks of essentially work-for-hire in Dec/Jan, writing 1-2K word chapters every week for The City of If–an interactive, online RPG gaming site. There’s potential for longer-term contract work if the initial stint goes well. I’m pretty jazzed.
Thanks to a French Critter, I was able to determine that my French reprint of “The Storyteller’s Wife” is either out, or about to come out in the October 2005, (#19) issue of Faeries. On an amusing note, I’m sharing a ToC with Darrell Schweitzer. The cover art:
* Most days I’m too lazy to put on sunscreen to go check the mail because I’m outside for all of half a minute. But exposing myself to the full-on noontime sunny day Georgia UV rays, even for half a minute, is a no-no, putting me at risk for a Lupus flare-up. To solve this conundrum of laziness, I often use a (bright yellow) parasol to shade me during my extremely brief mail outings. I, in my scruffy Resident Evil t-shirt, jammy pants, and parasol, undoubtedly present a curious sight to the neighbors.