I'm so confused!

The sun is shining. First I will go and pick up my new glasses(!!), THEN we'll start digging up the plants in the front yard!  THEN we will buy new ones (and mulch and such) and plant them! Please let this turn out well. Please let this turn out well. PLEASE, and so on.

...is just how BRUISED you feel after rocking a weighted hoop around your midriff for just a couple minutes. They don't sell padding for that? Come on! I want my muscles to feel sore, not my skin.

It's overcast and I'm grumpy. Also: Nightcrawler #80 on IGN's Top 100 Comic Book Heroes list? Beaten by GAMBIT and BEAST?? WTH?

I bought a hula hoop. At work, at first - one of the toy ones, for kids. I thought "Hey, $3 exercise equipment!", came home and discovered that a kid's hoop is useless for adult exercise. But, hooked on the idea, I got myself a grown-up, weighted one for $17 and hey, I can actually use this one! Here's to losing weight!

Today, at work, a lady asked me if we had lens cloths. I told her that last time we did, they were down in Electronics. She shook her head.
"NO," she spat. "They're for cleaning GLASSES".
"I know," I said, "but they're also for camera lenses and stuff. I bought some, myself!"
"No. Forget it. That's a stupid place to put them."
"Uhm. OK?"

To be perfectly fair, she was using a walker and might have felt miffed she had to walk all the way down to the end of the store? Still.
Btw, the lens cloths in question look like condoms in their square little wrappers. I always love pulling one out in public.

Other than that, I have been cranky. I dunno.

Tom! Mr.Hardy, sir. Your physique is starting to freak me out. Take care of yourself, please.

They actually list Asian eyes as "defects". Genius beauty, indeed. And I love how there's only one comment remarking on it, immediately followed by a protest. 

It is done. I have earned cheesecake.

Title: The Quiet House
Characters: Arthur, Eames, a few OCs.
Genre: Gen, Drama, Angst
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Word Count: 8504
Warnings: Death of a parent. Someone has a stroke. Also, some violence.
Summary: Arthur has a very good reason to be back in his hometown. He has a very good reason for inviting Eames there, too. Probably.
Author's Note: Post-Inception. A friendship fic, disguised as a background fic for Arthur.


( The Quiet House. )

New rule in this house: DO NOT DISCUSS MONEY ISSUES RIGHT BEFORE BEDTIME. I couldn't get to sleep until 6AM and then I woke up again after 4 hours. But that is why they invented coffee.


Been working on fic. Yeah. This playlist with relaxing music has kept me from going mental. I recommend it to anyone who feels like they're going to pieces. Incredible visuals, too.


Sweetest game premise ever? Tiger and Monster had a fight and you must bring them back together by removing the blocks in the correct order.<33


And, finally:

( Fluffy love. )

I've been following the BBC live updates of the Japan situation and I just can't process the disaster down there. The magnitude of it. I'm watching reporters walk around in the rubble and I wince when they come off as more enthralled than grave. And I wonder, is it a defense mechanism to not simply burst into tears and rock back and forth wailing in sympathy? Or do we just not understand because we can't understand unless it's happened to us?

I think I'll just stick to moisturizer, though.

Around 4:30AM, hubby and I looked outside and everything was white! He was practically jumping up and down in excitement, so we decided to take a walk to the store to buy tuna. It was magical - everything was quiet. The sky glowed. Tons of big, soft, fluffy flakes drifted down gently and settled in his beard and my hair and it wasn't very cold at all. It was perfect.

And today we got a check. Not the big one we'd been waiting for, but a smaller one that will come in handy while we wait.

Today at work, a lady walked up to me, leaned on her cart and said "Can I ask you something?"
I, naturally, said yes, and she went:
"My idea. Of customer service. Is that if the customer wants something... you give it to them."
She went on to explain that she had intended to buy a piece of furniture in our store. "I do not want to assemble it myself," she said firmly. She had talked to the furniture manager, who had kind of shrugged and said that maybe, if some of the guys had time (though at the moment we were speaking, the only floor workers left in the store was me and another girl, tasked with cleaning up the entire store, so I don't know if she just came in earlier in the day or if he meant that she should come back the next day...? She didn't specify), they could maybe put it together, but it wasn't likely and it wasn't policy.
She fixed her eyes on me. "What do you think?" she said. "Do you think that's good customer service?"
I hummed and hawed, of course, said I was really not in a position to comment and so on, as politely as possible. She rolled her eyes. "OK. Fine. Whatever. You know, that's the problem. No one has an opinion." She waved at me dismissively. "And you're young." Then she left. I didn't tell her I'm thirty. 

To the cashier, she launched a tirade about how she was raised in a high-moral family and been taught that the customer should get what he wants and if SHE ran a business, she would be putting together furniture all day long.

The piece of furniture in question was a $79 dresser that she apparently wanted just for her jeans.

In less irritating news, I found an online interactive documentary about Pine Point - a small Canadian mining town that was erased completely from the map after the mine closed. One of the ex-residents - a man who used to be extremely athletic, but now sits in a wheelchair because of MS - has built a memorial website about it, using only voice commands to his computer.
I was so taken by the idea of the place you grew up in just not being there anymore. The whole thing is just really engrossing and fascinating and well-done. Check it out!

Oh yeah, I also locked Busy in the closet today before I left for work. Thankfully, the hubby noticed his little scritchings and scratchings and saved him.

Silly me.

Linkage:

Russian Bento - I lack words.

Nora the Piano Cat - she's so adorably enthusiastic!

I watched Iron Man with hubby the other day. The best parts were all the times he (hubby) got this big grin on his face, pumped his fist and went "awww YEAHH", his eyes shining like a twelve-year old's.<3

( Some Iron Man spoilers )
I need to go to work.

Well! The cold was false alarm, but I cuddled up in my shell anyway, because there's just not much going on at the moment. Oh, except that I was called to take a test re: that place I applied for a job at and if I didn't flunk too bad, they'll call me up for an interview. I don't know if I'd look forward to working there - the place seems kind of stiff - but it would be more money, and it's always all about money.

My hubby will look over my fic. This freaks me out a little, because while it's gen and I've tried not to make it very schmoopy, it's still...fangirl material and he's a guy with a guy-ish point of view and while he's promised not to snicker even on the inside, some reactions just can't be helped. But I've reached a point where I CAN'T proceed with the fic until I have someone else's input, so it must happen.

I would have thought that, at this age, I would have been more secure and confident in myself, steady as a rock and completely comfortable with who I am and what I do. But I almost feel more insecure now than I was as a teenager. It's baffling.

"Hon, this is not a BOOK you're writing. You are going overboard. It's just a fic. It will not nudge the universe in any direction. It is not going to be perfect and there is no need for all this micromanaging. Just get it DONE and post it and move on with your life."

And then I'm like "But. I mean. Syntax! Logic! Spelling! Characterization! *wrings hands* "

I'm going to need a beta sometime soon. Uhm. Any spontaneous volunteers?
 

...those moments when you realize that the thing you've been writing, plotting and fussing over for ages is actually complete and utter shit?

I must immediately cease looking through the blog of Color me Katie and her adorable cat and start editing!