Writan

Typical annoying cunt today. Nothing big.

BIG HUGE GIGANORMOUS News that I can't tell you about yet....book related....

Oh you got published. Congrats. That's a difficult feat (he lied).

Cold front coming in. After the cortizone shot, my hip has been about 75% better...all that came crashing down today, lol. Slapped a lidoderm/lidocaine patch on there, so hopefully it will go numb soon. The things one wishes for...

I haven't read the rest of this but I'm already getting used to this type of statement. I imagine she's one of those people who always has some sort of injury (imagined or real) and always over dramatizes it.

Does anyone have experience with a preemie and would you know what this means:
" they closely monitor his degree of oxygen saturation and the possibility of internal hemorrhage in his ventricles" ?

I've heard tell the greatest computer scientists have put their huge nerd brains together and developed something called a search engine, but since Livejournal is apparently your only means to acquire information:
babies who are premature often have underdeveloped lungs, and so they have to monitor the child to make sure her lungs are working properly. The reason they'd be monitoring for a hemorrhage (bleeding) in the ventricle (of the bronchial airways) is because the weight of the child's chest can compress the lungs, which is why they aren't breathing properly, which is why oxygen saturation would be down.
I don't have a premature baby so I guess I'm not qualified to answer this question.

In other news: stopped new medication.

I fucking called it.

Seems one of the 1% FREAK category side effects is hypoaesthesia and facial hypoaesthesia.

... Did you mean hypoesthesia, doctor?

me I lose feeling in my face and arms/hands

Well technically hypoesthesia is the loss of tactile response (reduced feeling of touch) and not actual numbness, but all right you're the doctor.

That's my first medication rule: if it jacks with my mind and thought processes I'm not taking it.

That's funny because that's the exact opposite of my first rule of medication.

If I can't write I won't take it...just not worth it to me.

Yeah people are certainly never better at that when they're obliterated or crazy or anything.

Okay...tonight is writing night. Hoping to get 2 chapters done tonight, but we'll see how it goes.

Oh boy should be quality.

News on Symphony for the Forgotten, and thanks to everyone who has emailed asking about it, the publisher is waiting for the final proof and then it's out...Yay!

Looking this up.

From ancient goddesses and Philistines, Mary Queen of Scots and the French Revolution, to modern country back roads and different worlds….Symphony for the Forgotten, a new horror collection by Angeline Hawkes, takes you on a journey through time and places feared. Fifteen stories of torment and terror await you.

Sounds like bullsh-- I mean the next H.P. Lovecraft.

If the Mayans get proved wrong, hopefully the Republicans can run a strong candidate in 2012. If the Mayans are right, then I guess none of us need worry about politics anymore.

Not even going to repeat myself again. The Mayans didn't predict the apocalypse.
I would think a horror writer would be at least familiar with the difference between a change and the impending end of the world.
It's also worth noting the apocalypse isn't the same as Armageddon. Armageddon comes from this word: מגידו Tel Megiddo, which is a mountain.
There now you can't say you never learned anything from this.

Basically, conclusion is the warranty is running out and things are falling apart as predicted...from here on out, there will be more drugs, surgeries, and, oh, yeah, more drugs. I'm in agony right now...will have to try to do my chapter tomorrow. Scheduled writing tonight is not going to happen.

A good horror writer could probably do something with this but nope not you.

I'm worried my tomaters that we FINALLY are going to...

"Tomaters"? I'm sorry, did you just say "tomaters"?
Tomaters. I just can't get over that.
Did you just get back from the crick where you were doing your wash by any chance?

I dreamed that I was cleaning house and suddenly Cthulhu manifested from under the house.

I wish Cthulhu would eat you. That's what you need. An ancient, unnamed horror eating your mortal shell.

I rebuked Cthulhu in the name of god.

Even in your dreams you suck holy shit that won't work.

My feet are throbbing, my hands are throbbing, I've got 2 ribs on the left side that feel as though someone broke them and they're being turned around, sharp edges out...the back is off the pain scales this morning, and it hurts to move my neck...and the hip and right shoulder are pulsing so loud I can almost hear it...

I bet if I cataloged every small pain I had it would be a list near this long.
Shit anyone's would be. Maybe if you focused on something worthwhile (like becoming a good horror author like you clearly aren't) then maybe you'd feel better.

I'm convinced that people are convinced that Horror is a dirty word....when you break it down from a genre as a whole to subject matter like particular monsters or twilight zone-ish plots suddenly they DO like horror.

... You don't know what horror is at all, do you?
I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries here because I am contending with a published author (fuck me).

You see I'm a gardener. I nurture and grow lots of things. Some of them more amazing than others. God has blessed me with many talents.

Too bad writing wasn't one of them, oh ho.

I would have had half a dozen of them had God saw fit to allow that.

This is such bizarre logic coming from someone whose recent book is about Sumerian (or some shit) gods. What, did God tell you to do that one, too?

With a spinal fusion and steel rods, I can't push the car...so I tell the kids to get out w/their stuff and go sit under a tree off on the other side of the ditch...because now I'm shaking like a leaf [already feeling bad, the heat and no A/C added to the problem...then of course, I had a heat flash....my feet are bright freaking red...]

Well with that Negative Nancy attitude I guess you couldn't push a car. What did the Little Engine That Could say? "I think I can, I think I can!"
While I would continue with this fascinating tale of being stranded in the middle of civilization I have things I'd rather be doing.