creative.energy.focus kills twentyone in horrific.blood.curdling.scream

I’ve been focusing. Depsite the threat of looming psychological problems resulting from forced creative writing, I am holding up fine and should be passing the 40k word mark soon — I have said I would do it before I go to bed tonight, but that’s 700 words away and the pillow is looking more inviting than the keyboard. For those in eager anticipation of reading a finished novel, I will now officially say I have a plot — a plot of quality, maybe not — but definitely a plot. Things make sense, and stuff happens with just cause. And that is good enough for me, especially at 10 o’clock on a thursday evening.

warm.spells have nothing to do with harry.potter

For those who have been living in cold weather lately, you’ll be drippingly jealous to know that we had a record high here yesterday (and today was not far behind.) Believe it or not — and this goes against all my principles of reporting the weather on this silly little blog.thing — it was 17 celcius here. T-shirt weather. NICE!

and.just.because.i.think.it’s.cool

I was getting off the bus today wondering what the heck was up with all the grafitti on the seats and the walls and the signs and the city.in.general, when I walked past a guy with a scrubber and some solvent — his t-shirt said something like “grafitti-b-gone” — and he was scrubbing some scrawl from a dirty brick wall. Say THAT ten times fast. I should have given him a pat on the back for his fine work, but in this city that could be misconstrued in SO many ways.