Hint: It's About a "Villain"

I need a new computer. Sooner would be better, as my current computer apparently does not want to be charged up anymore. I think I'm just going to take the hard drive out of the ole Dell so that I can keep my information somehow. I'm looking at the new Dell Inspiron 1525, and it seems like a decent deal. Also, it comes in cool new colors!

In other news, I'm still trying desperately to write something. I obliquely mentioned a while back that I'm kinda sorta trying to write a book. The idea seems strong right now, but for some reason the words aren't coming out onto the page properly anymore. I've outlined and thematacized and character sketched and all that fun stuff, but the actual story isn't coming out right. I think I'm overthinking things and being too perfectionist about it.

It's okay to make mistakes and suck. It's okay to make mistakes and suck.

I know that, brain! However, this is incredibly frustrating, because I've had this idea for the better part of a year now, and have developed it from a loose sketch of an idea into something which can possibly stand on its own merit. Of all things to possibly give me a creative bump, it was something in the movie D.E.B.S. I know! I sketched out my first ideas for the story on a train ride back from Peoria last Thanksgiving. Dr. Horrible is also similar theme-wise (which is maybe making me so afraid to try--damn you Joss Whedon). In fact, all this recent "Oh woe is me, I don't know what I want to do in life. OH, I know, I'll be a movie director and tell wonderful celluloid stories, yadda yadda yadda" stuff started because of the sudden, incredible desire to tell this one story. So, you know, best answer is to actually write a damn book.

I feel like I've been watching too much TV and getting into too big of a rut recently, as well. This blog isn't nearly as interesting as it should be for a 23 year old living in one of the biggest cities in the good ole US of A. My solution has been to read voraciously. So far, it's been reigniting the need to tell the story, but until recently, I really haven't had great inspiration.

The Sirens of Titan was really really great, and although Vonnegut is both quite deep and quirky as hell, his style isn't something that can inspire me in writing. It's amazing, but doesn't resonate with what I'm "writing." Twilight actually helped, in that it showed me how to not write a compelling book. I can learn bunches about proper characterization, plot, and development of a meaningful theme by looking at what Stephanie Meyer didn't do. Am I still being too mean to her book? Perhaps. Regardless of my personal anger towards it, the book is, after all, really only a poorly plotted bodice-ripper with no actual bodice ripping, and probably good for someone to read at a day on the beach. HOWEVER, if that thin read can inspire such a rabid (terrifying to even an unabashed Whedon fan) fanbase and make that much money, maybe my little idea can at least interest someone somewhere.

So now I'm reading 1984. YES! Not only is it changing my mood and making me more paranoid/ more obliged to express myself than ever before, but the themes of the book are keeping with slightly similar themes that my world will contain. Not to mention, it's a hell of a good read. Now if only my computer at home could work, so that I can actually start to get some ideas out, without the sheer paranoia that slacking off at work now creates.

Thank you, Winston Smith. Your defiant journaling has helped me to remember why I wanted to write in the first place. Maybe I can finally force myself to do it.

OMG NEW POST

I swear that I will never use "omg" again in my life. And if I do, someone please point it out, because I'm sure my look of horror will be quite amusing.

I haven't felt too talky recently, and I guess that's okay. And, yesterday, after my landlady finally informed me that my August rent check bounced (which I was expecting--also, just in time for September rent, which makes me oh-so-happy), I confirmed that yes, I will be renewing my lease. For the box. I guess I only have myself to blame, since I shut myself off during the crucial apartment finding weeks. I also really, really didn't want to actually move. I'm okay with it, but eh. Just eh. After I get the rent thing situated, I think I'm going to try to fix up the apartment to try to make it feel less dorm-like and more like a place that I can actually comfortably live in. Some organization would be nice as well, and would go a long way towards helping me feel like a real person.

In other news, Gus is turning into a dog. He now demands belly rubs. Frequently. Whenever I come home, grumbling from a long day's work, he gives me a plaintive meow and flops himself upside down on the ground. I don't really know how this started, but I really like it. He's getting to be a very sweet cat, and isn't nearly as neurotic as I thought he'd end up being. Nubs, meanwhile, is getting just plain weird, which I'm sure is my influence entirely. She now has a favorite creepy hobby: watching me brush my teeth. I swear, every morning and every evening, whenever I go to brush my teeth she tears across the apartment, jumps on the toilet, and stares at me. I'm not even exaggerating. I wonder what's so fascinating about my teeth. Maybe she's trying to tell me that I should schedule a dentist's appointment. Naw, it's probably just "Hey. You. Get me my shiny mouse from under the table." They're good people, those cats.

In other other news, WHY DON'T I OWN THIS T-SHIRT? I may have to go to the Threadless store this weekend or something. Oh, and to finish up the Buffy talk (which I'm now totally done with, by the way) I took a pretty involved Buffy personality test last week, and I'm totally Willow! A. Awesome, she's always been my favorite character, since I was, like, 12! B. I REALLY AM SO WILLOW. C. I guess this means all y'all better, uh, watch out? When I eventually snap, I'm going to SNAP. Maybe a vacation is in order.

In other other other news, I'm writing a book! Or, well, trying that is. More on this to follow, but I've got a pretty solid idea, and am now trying to get past the writer's block/horrible numbing fear of failure. Wish me luck!

The Universe is Against Me

OKAY SORRY PEOPLE--I DIDN'T KNOW THE DR HORRIBLE LINK DIDN'T WORK--IT IS FIXED NOW! GO CHECK IT OUT. NOW!

First--this is pure distilled reality tv show cliche awesomeness: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w536Alnon24.

Second--WHY IS MY CAT MESSING WITH MY HEAD? Don't let her fool you, with her little chirpy flights of fancy, and her desperate chase of the offensive shiny mice. SHE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT SHE'S DOING. She likes to play these cute little games, where she pretends she can't walk and pulls her leg up like that one time when she had the infection, and nearly gave me a heart attack. She's a good faker, that one. Pretending not to walk, and chuckling at my deepening panic. She deserved a freakin' Oscar for yowling loudly, when I touched her stump. I was planning on going in to the vet to get more antibiotics, because, you know what, Nubs, I CARE. I care enough to put aside my financial devastation to get you your damn costly meds. I would do that for you. You, however, clearly think this is a funny game, because what do I get when I wake up in the morning? You chasing Gus. You jumping on the coffee table. You running around like a spooked Clydesdale. Well, you know what Nubs, I'M GLAD YOU HAD THOSE LAUGHS. I really am. I even called the vet today to discover my vet is no longer with them, so tomorrow I'm going to get a call from a random vet at that clinic and have to explain that my cat was JUST KIDDING.

Apparently my computer was just kidding too. I'm finishing this entry on it. On Thursday evening, I came home and found my computer cord dead, with chew marks all along it. I couldn't tell if the chewing was the reason the charger was dead or not, so I checked all the connections as well as the wall plug. I changed the plug and everything, before deciding that the cord had lived its life. I got electrical tape the next day in a vain effort to try to mend it, but it didn't seem to work. I've since been trying to deal with the fact that I couldn't have a computer until the next time I get paid, and then I'd have to shell out $70 for another new power cord for a computer that's on its death bed. But, when I came back from work today, the little green chargy light was on! What? Was it sleeping? I don't...I can't...I NEED A MOMENT HERE.

Is my apartment some freakish Lazarus Pit, where living and NOT LIVING things can heal themselves? Am I some sort of prophet? Should I set up a side business where I can let cancer patients just mill around the apartment for a few days until they feel better? Well, I'm not feeding them, I can tell you that.

Or, the more likely excuse, someone's messing with me. I'm ready for your parry, reader, and I can say that I know I'm paranoid. Sometimes paranoia is justified--like when SOMEONE IS MESSING WITH YOU. They want to make me feel crazy so they can disarm me and learn my secrets. Like--well I HAVE SECRETS OKAY.

What?

Why are you looking at me like that?

The computer broke me, okay.

Help

Okay, so I have a question. How would y'all explain to your landlady that you broke your toilet seat? Seriously. Last night I was scooping kitty litter and was leaning on the toilet with my other hand. I guess I caught it just right, and the poor toilet seat was snapped off of its hinges. It's just sitting loose now on the bowl.

This kind of stuff only happens to me. I think I may just buy some superglue and try to fix it myself.