Attack! of the Killer Weblog

There is a warm cat on my lap, and a cold front has moved in. I am remembering now what it is like not to live in a brick oven. It is pretty good.

We watched Black Sheep last night, a movie my darling thought I'd like because it has mutant zombie sheep from beyond the edge of the Earth! Also New Zealand. So everyone has hilarious accents. And the special effects were alarmingly good. I recommend, if you're up for a night of sheep ... zombie ... horror.

I think it will spawn a new genre really. Because zombie sheep are just too rich a subject for such a light treatment.

Posted by mb at 8:00 AM | Permalink

Just rang our house's doorbell for the first time. It was exactly as exciting as I thought it would be.

I've been driving all over the place today, running errands and taking in what sights there are to be had. You know, a world-famous river sparking back autumn sunshine, wide flatlands and their ripening crops, brilliant road construction, new homes being built into that deafeningly blue sky ...

Typical October day in the good ol' M-O.

In a nod to insanity, which I haven't felt for awhile so this seems like as good a chance as any, I'm committing myself to NaNoWriMo next month. It will either kill me or inspire me, and I haven't had that dichotomy in a good long while. Take that, common decency! You have a new enemy. Emeny. Nemeny. Mnemonic device.

Notice how I didn't go for the Johnny Mnemonic joke, there. Because while I like wordplay ... I do not like The Movie Which Killed Cyberpunk, Thank You SO MUCH William Gibson.

All over the map today? Me? You say that like it's unusual.

Posted by mb at 1:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Thus ends a Very Bad Week. It is good that we have Very Awesome Friends, Very Awesome Family, and enough stubbornness to fell a goat.

I have never been so tired. Gut-deep tired. The kind of tired that makes my flesh feel like sliding off my bones, because it's not terribly happy about having to defy all this gravity. And I am not so sure how I can get past this, because sleeping and eating? Not so much happening. Which only makes everything worse.

You see, this is why I don't write when I'm down. Because whiny-self-pity mode is only fun for me. And even that isn't the greatest.

Sorry to be so cryptic. But, can't really talk about it. Just my reactions. And I am mostly sad. I think that has a lot to do with my low blood sugar, though. Best to treat that with chocolate. Excuse me.

Posted by mb at 10:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I write to you, reader, from my house, on a street (avenue technically), in a town, which shows up on a couple maps if you squint and tilt your head to the left.

The last two weeks are a blur of crazy move-in stories, not-so-crazy stories, some fiction thing I'm writing, and more work than seems possible. But through it all has been a continuous daffy grin that not only inhabits my face, but my sweetie's face too, and that has made everything worth it. That, and getting out of that apartment, which was not in itself such a bad place, but began to signify stuckness. And the house? I dig it. We dig it. Home ownership sits well on us.

And now that I have the internets back, the last piece has fallen into place. Ah yeah.

Posted by mb at 7:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)