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that when all security fails
Dec. 22nd, 2006 03:14 pmI've received two cards in the mail, one from Lydia and one from Pong.
<3s
Haha, I miss them loads (and my long lost Saiyuki books ;D). Yes Doctor Lydia, even your TFFR.
Oh hohoho, someone got a Good Progress award! And that someone is $200 richer. <3
( Colorgenics meme )
I'm having major writers block for my short story which is currently titled "All The Soarings of My Mind Begin in my Blood" (props to people who can figure out where that's from). It's an extremely experimental piece on two levels:
At the moment, I'm straddling with the introduction and the end. I have the middle all nicely fleshed out but there's no head or tail. Whoop dee doo. I'm trying to make it a sizeable story, not too long because that would ruin whatever effect (and I have no idea what effect) I'm trying to get; but not too short because then it'd just seem like a drabble. I'm trying to bring in a crucial character into the story without it being too cliched or too overdramatic. It's hard. I tend to be melodramatic and fall into "drama serials" mode too often.
I need to complete it, and one more poem I'm submitting (tentatively titled "We Are a Cat" from Soseki's I Am A Cat), by 26th latest so that it gets past all the hordes of Christmas mail to the organizers without delay. So I'm pressed for time, and pressed for real coffee. Then I need to e-mail JTan this weekend to ask about possible relief teaching tenures a.k.a basically offer my services for day-to-day relief teaching services that I desperately want. For both cash, and for experience. After that, I need to drown myself in economic policies and all that financial stuff so that I don't spout off rubbish when I start on my next competition essay.
It's not a viable way to make a living of course, but I'm doing this on a three pronged approach: I love writing, I need the exposure, and I obviously need the cash. The first two preceed the last (no this is not some weird Law of Robotics spinoff) and I'm dying to keep my mind out of a rut. Calendar-kiosking is seriously brain draining work. It numbs your brain and keeps you stupid.
Anyway, a few hours before I head off to work. Apparently I'm going to get a few visitations today! Hurrah! Hopefully I get abducted by aliens who will give me a lifetime supply of moolah for them probing my body with scientific instruments. Yes please!
Yes, you've got that right: real coffee.
My dad happily bought two 6-can packs of 'coffee' for me. Turns out they're coffee-flavoured milk. Not exactly what I called Starbucks caffeine-rich drinks but it has to do.
<3s
Haha, I miss them loads (and my long lost Saiyuki books ;D). Yes Doctor Lydia, even your TFFR.
Oh hohoho, someone got a Good Progress award! And that someone is $200 richer. <3
( Colorgenics meme )
I'm having major writers block for my short story which is currently titled "All The Soarings of My Mind Begin in my Blood" (props to people who can figure out where that's from). It's an extremely experimental piece on two levels:
i) Although I was originally a short-story person when I was younger, currently I mainly dabble in 'poetry' of sorts, hence making this my first major short-story.
ii) The themes, and writing style are highly experimental. I haven't tried to write like this before consciously, and trying to keep the story in the same narrative style is quite hard.
At the moment, I'm straddling with the introduction and the end. I have the middle all nicely fleshed out but there's no head or tail. Whoop dee doo. I'm trying to make it a sizeable story, not too long because that would ruin whatever effect (and I have no idea what effect) I'm trying to get; but not too short because then it'd just seem like a drabble. I'm trying to bring in a crucial character into the story without it being too cliched or too overdramatic. It's hard. I tend to be melodramatic and fall into "drama serials" mode too often.
I need to complete it, and one more poem I'm submitting (tentatively titled "We Are a Cat" from Soseki's I Am A Cat), by 26th latest so that it gets past all the hordes of Christmas mail to the organizers without delay. So I'm pressed for time, and pressed for real coffee. Then I need to e-mail JTan this weekend to ask about possible relief teaching tenures a.k.a basically offer my services for day-to-day relief teaching services that I desperately want. For both cash, and for experience. After that, I need to drown myself in economic policies and all that financial stuff so that I don't spout off rubbish when I start on my next competition essay.
It's not a viable way to make a living of course, but I'm doing this on a three pronged approach: I love writing, I need the exposure, and I obviously need the cash. The first two preceed the last (no this is not some weird Law of Robotics spinoff) and I'm dying to keep my mind out of a rut. Calendar-kiosking is seriously brain draining work. It numbs your brain and keeps you stupid.
Anyway, a few hours before I head off to work. Apparently I'm going to get a few visitations today! Hurrah! Hopefully I get abducted by aliens who will give me a lifetime supply of moolah for them probing my body with scientific instruments. Yes please!
Yes, you've got that right: real coffee.
My dad happily bought two 6-can packs of 'coffee' for me. Turns out they're coffee-flavoured milk. Not exactly what I called Starbucks caffeine-rich drinks but it has to do.
