...Okay, not really but I made it and loved it so much I couldn't resist putting it up.

I can buy alcohol now. WOO!

I went to a liquor store yesterday and the guy who was checking IDs told me I was smiling too much. I whipped out the ID and went "IT'S MAH BIRTHDAY!"

And then he complimented my Invader Zim patch and we had a nice little discussion about Jhonen Vasquez. It was fun.

I had a margarita because my mom told me I should try one. Not sure I liked it.

Had sushi for dinner and a strawberry mojito.

Yesterday I did a photo prompt, using some characters from my NaNo. Went back and added to it later. Here's the updated version:

( NaNo Stuff )

I probably ought to post these :P Warning: Image Heavy!

( Dragon*Con )

So. It's almost November. You all know what that means, right?

...

No, actually, I wasn't going to say anything about the election. I'm talking about NaNoWriMo! I got a one-week jump on it last year, and wound up planning an entire novel in ONE WEEK. However, I feel that this year I ought to at least make the effort to start working on it a month or so in advance, so I know exactly what I'm doing when it gets here. There will be multitudes of chocolate-covered coffee beans, a myriad of cigarette packs, and a few of my days off when I will stay up all night working feverishly on my novel.

I even have a title. And a rough idea of what it'll be about. I just need characters, a world, and then I'm ready.

So. The working title of this fantastic novel is This Sea, or possibly Sea and Sky. It's also the title of a song by Voltaire. And it will be about the sea. A ship on the sea, as a matter of fact. There will no doubt be a plucky heroine who disguises herself as a boy (because that hasn't been done before, whut?) and to make things interesting, it's going to be a bit steampunk. There will be airships. There will be pirates on the sea and in the sky. There will be adventures with mythical beasts.

And it'll all take place on an alternate Earth. It will be amazing. For some reason, the name Isabelle keeps jumping forward in my mind, so possibly there will be a major character named Isabelle. There will be sirens, and kraken, and dolphins that really are the souls of dead sailors. There will be albatrosses around necks, seagulls wheeling in the sky, the rush of breakers just before the dawn, a sea that isn't blue but is green, black, smoky, volatile and violent, changing every day with every swing of the weather, a proper sea. There will be storms. There will be shipwrecks. There will be... oh... all sorts of stuff.

Just one more month and a few weeks. I can't wait.

Step 1: Put your iPod player on random.
Step 2: Post the first line from the first 32 50 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song. (\o/ boredom!)
Step 3: Let everyone guess what song and artist the lines come from.
Step 4: Bold the songs when someone guesses correctly.
Step 5: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is CHEATING!

Forgive me if it takes me a while to bold them :3

1. Coin operated goi, scary but it's true, he is not a Jew
( Whee! )

Have a new job. Firehouse Subs. Woo!

Decided that maybe I do want to be a paranormal investigator. A ghost hunter, at the very least. I want to join TAPS. Unfortunately, they're up in Rhode Island, and I'm down here in Alabama.

Any new news? Not so much. Dragon Con's coming up. Thought maybe about cosplaying Crowley in addition to Dib, but that's gonna be kinda weird with my Dibhair going on. Is it bad that I only just realized that? Ah well. Alex would make a killer Aziraphale, though. Just get some tartan and... make her grow out her mohawk? Okay, maybe not.

I have to be up early tomorrow. Working 10 to about 2. Not much, not very long, but it's cool. Training, woo!

Edit: I just got Salmon'd by a Trout. WE'RE BEING INVADED BY FISH.

When you write science fiction, the way you view the world begins to change.

I'm working on a story for Asimov's at the moment. It's.... become a little stuck. I think maybe I'll stop, take a breather, and work on one for Spacesuits and Sixguns. Maybe one for Analog.

But as I was saying. The world changes when you write sci-fi. You start questioning things you never really thought about before.

What if cars were sentient? What if the magnetic field failed? What if we really are alone? What if we're not? What if we're alone not in the sense of being the only planet with life, but the only planet with sapient life? What if we were wiped out? What if we could live on the moon? On Mars? Venus? Some planet in a solar system so far away that we had to build a space ark to get there?

And, most importantly, since I'm working on it for Asimov's, what if that guy who sits next to you in class really was an alien?

Paul. That's his name. This alien that I've created. Not his real name, but a name he's chosen for living on Earth. I still don't know what he's doing here.

But sci-fi, I've found, is more satisfactory than fantasy. It's life, facts, evidence. Dragons and unicorns are all very well, but how does a dragon fly? Its wings can't hold up its body. It's not aerodynamic. A spaceship doesn't have to be, once it gets into space. Not really. If it's build in space, with the right thrusters, it doesn't have to conform to Earth standards of aerodynamics. If it's not going planetside, all it needs are a few thrusters in the right place, and it can go enormous distances on just a little bit of fuel.

I think I've been bitten by the sci-fi bug. I'll keep you posted.

We took Bentley to Montevallo on Thursday to go see Drema and play in the park. BIG day.

So proud of my Bentley-butt! We were at the Eclipse, and there was a lady there with a really young toddler, just learning to walk, and after a little while she let him go say hi to Bentley, who immediately lowered his head and calmed down for the toddler to pet him. The little boy took Bentley's toy, and Bentley just waited patiently to get it back. The little boy pulled on Bentley's tongue, and his lips, and he just looked at me and Alex as if to say "Why is this kiddo pulling on my mouth?"

So many people complimented us on how well-behaved he was, and that really made me feel good as a dog owner. That says to me that I'm doing a good and responsible job working with Bentley. He's obedient (to a point, but he's seven months old, so we'll give him some leeway), he knows when to calm down and when it's play time, and I feel comfortable taking him off the leash in the park, because I know he won't go running after other dogs. Of course when the toddler was playing with him I kept an eye on both of them, because you never want to leave a small child unattended with a big dog, no matter how well-behaved the child or dog. And of course we kept an eye on him when he was meeting other dogs, because you never know how the other dog will react to your dog. But Bentley did extremely well.

We got a head halter for him because he's just too strong to be controlled by a collar or a harness. Alex's mom tried using a choke collar, but American Bulldogs were bred to ignore pain/discomfort, so that didn't work too well. Alex and I knew the choke collar wouldn't work, and as soon as we brought Bentley back home, we vowed not to use it. The head halter is amazing. It's got a strap that goes around his neck, just behind his ears, and a strap that goes around his muzzle. The leash hooks where the two straps meet. With the head halter on, Bentley can't pull ahead of us without turning himself around, because the halter controls his head.

Also. WE FOUND OUR JACKO AT THE PARK!!! She'd run away in February, and we figured we'd never see her again. When we moved in June, it was pretty certain that we wouldn't. Alex found her in the park. Called her name, and she jumped right into Alex's arms.

Parts two and three of yesterday's video post:

( Videos! )

They should be up and running shortly. YouTube's gotta process 'em first.

In three parts. The first part should be up right now, and the other two are on their way.

I apologize if the vid quality is crap; it's my webcam.
( Videos! )

I think the icon says it all.

But since it's apparently the fashion to post about this in our personal journals, to the confusement and befuddlement of our non-Econtrian friends...

Actually, that's not what I wanted to post about at all. I really wanted to let everyone know that my hair grows way too quickly, and I've really gotta shave the sides of it. I'M GETTING FUZZY.

I'm working on a story for Asimov's at the moment. About an alien. Go figure, right? I don't remember how many of you on my f-list are my NKU buddies, but this short story features a professor based lovingly on my old philosophy prof, Dr. Trundle.

Did you guys ever hear the story about how he made our class buy a book (that he had written) called "Is ET Here?" - now, keep in mind this is for philosophy - and we used about a chapter of this book. IN PHILOSOPHY. WE HAD TO TAKE TO NOTES ON UFOS AND ALIENS IN PHILOSOPHY.

Now, don't get me wrong. I firmly believe that something is out there, but I also know that if you admit that in polite company nobody's ever going to take you seriously ever again. Anyway, for all I know, Trundle was one of these aliens that's infiltrated human society. I wouldn't put it past him.

So. There. You all know my terrible secret now. I really do believe in aliens.

Pictures I promised, pictures you shall have.

( DIB D-D-DIB DIB DIB! )

Dudes. My Dib cosplay is this close to being complete. I've got the shirt. If I can grow my 'bangs' out, I've got the hair. Oh how I have the hair. I went to get a haircut, and settled on a mohawk. Dudes, I look like bishi fanart Dib. Seriously. Minus the hairscythe of DOOM. But yeah.

I went to the Salvation Army yesterday, got a blue shirt (hahaha it's sleeveless because I don't fancy wearing anything hot and uncomfortable under a black coat for hours on end) and I went to Wal-Mart for fabric paint and dye (I'm dyeing my lab coat black so I don't have to search for a trench coat. Who's smart? ME! Waaaay cheaper, and less time-consuming!) and black pants, because I'll be real honest with ya - I hate shopping for pants at a consignment store. Shirts? Shoes? No problem. But pants? Gah, they never fit! So I got black pants at Wal-Mart.

All that's left now is boots. BOOTS, and my cosplay is COMPLETE! I seriously considered getting rubber boots, but I'd rather have serious BOOT boots. Know what I mean?

So I'm trying to upload the picture I took of my shiny new shirt but it doesn't seem to working. Hmmm. I'll do it later.

Hello my lovlies. I fear I must apologize for my prolonged non-posty-ness. Yeah. That. I'm really just killing time right now until I get tags in my RPs. Pretty much.

I picked up a Dib. Why I'm playing both Dib and Zim? I'll never know. It's like a madhouse in the headspace now. I'm going to wind up killing them all.

I also kind of want to make an AU Dib where he's the invader and Zim is all perfectly normal Irken skool-kid who one day realizes OHMYGOD THERE'SANALIENINTHECLASS. Just because it would make OU Dib's head implode. It's the size of a hippo, that head!

In other world news, we went to see Wall-E at the drive-in. CUTEST MOVIE I HAVE EVAR SEEN EVAR. Robot romance? Hells yes. What's not to love? Really interesting concept, too, having the two main characters unable to speak beyond a few words. It's difficult to write a good story with no dialogue when your medium is film/comics. (Spy vs. Spy anyone? I'd pay to sit and watch an hour or so of the Spy Guys beating up on each other.)

Anyhow. No real news at the moment. Sorry. Um. Bentley's getting bigger? Really big. Uh. I'm definitely totally maybe going to cosplay Richard in addition to Dib at Dragon Con. RICHARD PLUSHIES ARE ON SALE NOW OH GOD I WANT TO SQUEEZE THE EVIL.

This is not a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a DRILL. THIS IS YOUR LIFE.

I'm on perpetual short-story mode, the synapses in my brain firing quicker than the the speed of literature. I gotta write something... SOMETHING. Anything. Short stories. That's what I'm good at writing. I can pound out a whole slew of them if I set my mind to it. That's right. I can do it.

Publish a collection of short stories. People like short stories. They're like... like tidbits of a novel, slices of the greater literary cake, edible in one sitting, lingering on the palate of the brain; they are short, they are concise, and they require a whole hell of a lot less time than a full-blown novel. I can do a novel. Oh yes, I think NaNoWriMo last year proved that. A novel can I do.

Yuss. BUT. I can only do a novel if I have a team of people who are also doing a novel, people who are struggling through the same thing that I am, people who know the critical need to reach a word count. I can't do it on my own. I need people to back me up, to charge through the morass of literary fatigue with me, to catch me when I stumble, people that I'll catch when they fall.

Short stories are just as intense, but the intensity is contained in one little burst, rather than drawn out and antagonizing over the course of a month. Of course, some people think it's crazy to write a novel in a month. I agree. It most certainly is. But it's also... fulfilling. But we're talking about short stories now, aren't we? Little bursts of literature, and they can be as long or as short as you need them to be. No worries about "is it too long? Is it too short? Do I need to add more here?" You begin, you continue, you end. When you get the end, that's when you stop. And you start at the beginning. The middle bit is there mostly to get from the beginning to the end.

I want to write somethng powerful. Something that makes you sit and stop, and think for a moment. Something different. Something raw, something real, realler even than real life, something that makes the world around you seem fiction, and fiction seem real. The Truth Is Out There, Stranger Than Fiction. Delicious. But it should be "The Fiction Is Out There". I want fiction stranger than truth, not truth stranger than fiction. I want the real world, held up to a mirror and tilted at a slight angle so everything is skewed. Bend it, break it, twist it, mold it, make it your own. Take the world and write it. Every little detail, every little thing.

Let the ink pour from the pen, not like a river of blood, or a river of anything. Let the ink pour from the pen like ink pouring from a pen.

( There's this door here )

*tries to stay awake* Got up at ten-thirty today so I could come to the library. Is currently one. Need sleep. Not used to getting up before twelve.

Still need job. Made eighty bucks last week, one-fifty the week before. Still need more money.

Did I mention that it's one? Probably won't be online tonight. Probably. Maybe I will. Um. Krystal's, maybe. Maybe take a few bucks and buy a drink and two burgers to use the internet. Maybe. Don't know. Depends.

Need one more journal for Johanna and Zim in Econtra. Crowley's covered. All three need threads. Crowley has one with Foaly but it needs moar comments, Zim has one with Jareth that needs moar comments, and Johanna with Dib that has no comments yet but that's okay because I'm falling asleep at the keyboard.

Yeah.

Need a cigarette.

*yawn*

Choose five series (no peeking before you choose them), list them, and then answer the questions behind the cut.

1. Invader Zim
2. House
3. NCIS
4. Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends
5. Fairly odd Parents

( DON'T PEEK! )