What 2012 looks like for me.

It doesn’t include the end of the world, let me tell you that.


If the apocalypse comes, I am not at home. I’ve read enough fiction to know that. Sheesh.

I should probably disclaim at this point: my plans are always nebulous. I’ve had enough curve balls thrown at me to (hopefully) not be too set on any plan I attempt to predict the future with. I am no prophet.

Anyways, my plan for the next year comes in three parts. I had originally planned to go back to school in January. I was gonna take 6 courses, it was gonna be awesome. And then, (curve ball ahoy) my funding (in the form of a long-shot bank loan) for next term did not appear. At that point I took a long hard look at my bank account and– I get to work for the next term!

As much as I am regretful about not being able to go back and study Celtic History and Logic and Greek/Roman History and Psychology and French and Global Short Fiction– all those courses should still be offered when I get back Next winter. And I am so looking forward to being able to look at my bank account and feel I’m snubbing bankruptcy. (Right now our flirting is about toescalate to tongue-kissing, to illustrate the state of my bank account.)

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Transit across the continent achieved!

The obligatory picture of the view from my hotel room.

Guess what? I’m in San Diego! Yes, the palm trees were a bit of a tip off, I’m sure.

I flew in two days early for Clarion to let me start to get over jet lag, which bit of planning I am profoundly grateful for. I got in at noon local time, which my body thought was 4:30, on two hours sleep having woken up at 2 am. I stayed up for another nine hours out of pure bloody-mindedness, but it’s not as though anything useful happened in those nine hours. When you find yourself too zonked to do a facebook quiz, you know you’re out of it.

This morning I got an email from the first week’s instructor, who was imparting quite a bit of information. The part I have worked past hyperventilating (but not past the stomach ache) about is that one of my stories is going to be workshopped on the very first day. The instructor (the lovely Nina Kiriki Hoffman) is highly encouraging us to write stories while we’re in San Diego, and to give us two days to panic something out she has arranged the first two days to be spent critiquing submission stories, and I’m on the block for day one, week one.

I’ve never workshopped or anything of the sort before, so I really don’t know what this will be like. (Other than painful.) I’m especially worried about my ego, to be honest, because I submitted those stories because they were the best I had and I couldn’t see how to make them better. Seeing these stories in particular torn to shreds is going to be special. But I’m also very excited about this, because I don’t have to worry for long about what they’re going to think of what I write. I can just dive in the deep end and hope I don’t belly flop.

And I won’t be telling you how the experience went for another two months. I actually won’t be blogging during the whole of Clarion for a variety of reasons. I will now lay them out in a list, because I like lists.

  • Blogging is a prime way to distract myself, particularly if I have to start searching for pictures to illustrate my posts. I am already very good at distracting myself and not exactly the most EXPERIENCED person going into this thing, so I want to roadblock this avenue to failure and despair early.
  • The likelihood of feedback on what I write from people outside of Clarion would just make me post some incredibly winy rants. They didn’t like my story! I don’t know how to use punctuation! Someone laughed at me! I spilled my coffee on my shoe! Oh, cry me a river, self. I haven’t even WRITTEN those posts yet, and I’m boring myself. 
    • And, y’know, whining all over the internet doesn’t do a whole lot towards making me seem more mature. 
  • As a going away present, the people at work gave me this really pretty diary and pen set. The pen clicks and the diary has a magnetic clasp. It’s just begging to be used!
  • Yay bullet points!
Right! So as I alluded to in that wonderful list, I won’t be blogging but I will be diarising. (I mean, duh. This must be preserved!) I also bought a fancy camera, so I’ll be using that. 😀 It makes lovely shutter noises! Ca-chunk Ca-chunk. #easilyamused
See you around!
Down below those clouds is St. John’s.

"It’s kinda a big deal."

And with seven hours (max) of sleep, we headed for Sin Jawns! The youngsters were all going to Camp Delight for eight days, and us adults were going along to drive, and- well, um, *waves hands vaguely* see people. You know, as adults do.

All the camp people crammed into the van of excitement and hysteria, and Daddy, Slonner and I were exiled to the car. *Looks at Van crammed full of excited children* *looks at VW full of space and a working radio* *compares*
Clearly, we had the short end of the stick. It was tragic, I tell you.

Daddy and I spent the 4.5 hour drive in listening to the radio, and talking art and marketing. As one does. Then we dropped off the children at Camp, where they took the absolute minimum amount of time getting settled in. THROW the luggage from the van. LUG AT HIGH SPEED to the cabins. HUG parents. Bye now! Trapezoid especially was very efficient. I was still helping small girls carry suitcases bigger than themselves when he had finished carrying three suitcases and a bag taller than him to his cabin. Then he vanished to do arcane boy things with his cabin. I didn’t ask questions.

Now, as previously mentioned in the last post, I’d bought some earrings the day before. That meant that when we actually got to town, I didn’t have my usual monies to spend on books or theatres. My normal Modus Operandi would have to be ADJUSTED. Therefore, while my industrious father went to take the ferry over to an old iron mine to take pictures of an indie turkish rock band, bringing my lovely mother and energetic small brother, I stayed in the hotel and chased a sunspot along the couch.

After this long and involved exercise, and after- incidentally- my family in town were barred from their ferry and had to wait for the next one, we had chinese food and entertained a newly married couple who were slightly younger than I. The entertainment mainly consisted of talk of schools and the music industry, and coffee and timbits. Which obviously is the best of all possible conversations. 😀

After we’d exsausted the coffee, I was brought out in state to help grocery pick, and be driven about town at night, and see the new apartment. The new apartment was, of course, lovely. We watched the Taking Of Pelham 123, which was significantly less lovely. Profanity can be used effectively in a story, but I really don’t think professional people use one word as the noun, verb, adjective and other modifiers in one sentence. And it’s all the same word? I mean, if I’ve met people who REALLY swear, they at least have two or three words they alternate between. This was just awkward and tiring. The only person who really pulled it off was John Travolta, who was quite believably insane. ^_^ But yeah, the story was so muddled it might have been good- but I really have no idea, I cared about a random sniper more than the MC, and the triumphant ending was- really not. SIGH. If you’re going to present a conflict, people, have the goodness to resolve it! If you’re dealing with layers of lies, either wink and nod when you leave, or TELL THE TRUTH, don’t just wander aimlessly into the sunset. *glares at storywriters* John Travolta was the best part.

In the morning I woke up. Which I put as a point of interest, seeing as I was up until 2:30+ the night before, and then up at 8, and I don’t function well on less than nine hours. YOU DO THE MATH. So then we, hmmm. *thinks* We went to costco, and McDonalds, where someone named James- I love you James, learn to be observant- neglected to get my salad dressings or tell me that he had to tell someone else about out for 15 minutes. Which when you’re standing by the counter of a fast food restaurant, is a LONG TIME. And then we went to Long and McQuade, where I stayed in the car and read, and then went home.  The trip back was spent looking at the views, talking Churchill, computers, income and jobs. As one also does. 

It’s 6:51. That’s AM. I’ve been up for over an hour. I also didn’t really sleep last night. So when I say “up,” I mean only that I’ve been continuously vertical, in a purposeful fashion. And my eyes have been open, though consciousness is debatable. My feelings on the matter can be summed up in one word.

Will the bus please hurry up and arrive so I can sleep while going home? Pretty, pretty please?

I write this as I download the Free Single Of The Week from itunes via Chapters/Starbucks. Yep. ^_^

I’m in Chapters, using free internet and considering buying some very definately not free coffee at starbucks. Slonner and I have had a good time roving about the mall. I bought some eight dollar canvas shoes at Wal-mart! I found that I’d only brought sandals. Which are lovely and all, but they aren’t really set up for long distance walking. Next we rove some more, and then off to Value Village! 😀

"I just spent 500 pound on an unauthorized expense." "And you think you still work here?"

PT’s home for the weekend! He’s grown a fetchingly red goatee, which was disconcerting to witness. I pinpointed the source of at least a little of my disconcertion when I realized that, from the angle at which I was staring at him, he looked a little like a faun. Despite my mind’s willingness to dive into Narnia or Classical Greece at any time, it has not yet progressed to presenting me with fictional beings at the dinner table. So that’s why I was staring, PT, sorry. It looks lovely, really it does. 😀

So there has been much celebration upon the advent of PT’s return for four days, and upon the morrow we perhaps shall venture unto T’gate, there to climb cliffs and take profuse pictures of our siblings participating in the aforementioned vertical activity. Moreover, I have not the slightest idea why I am talking in this manner, unless it is perhaps attributable to the Tylenol, Midol and Coffee I have been eating over the course of the past five hours.

I’ve discovered the effects pane in iphoto, which causes me much joy. And yes, that is a tree I was wearing in my hair yesterday. I was gardening, see.

"I just waved at those hitchhikers, didn’t I." "Yep, the little flirty wave, too."

Another blog post written on the highway!

  • Soundtrack is: Coldplay
  • Driver is: Fraulein
  • Drink is: Ice cubes left over from McDonald’s Root Beer
  • Destination is: St. John’s and the Home School Conference. 

Okay, now that you have all the vital stats, I suppose I may as well explain in labourious and tedious words.

We’re going to the Home School Conference!


Okay, yes, the language portion of my brain is sadly lacking at this date. But despite this tragic handicap, I persevere and blog, for you, my loyal reader. I’m so noble. *sniffs*

Up until yesterday I though that I was going to stay home, live on tea and noodles, and watch television this weekend. My work schedule meant that I would miss the convey out, you see. And then, someone clever, (not me, sad to say), looked at the calander and noticed that I was off in the early afternoon. “So,” Clever Person said to his or herself, “Snazel could leave on the latter half of the Convoy, if the latter half of the convoy delayed a couple hours. ” And we all saw that this was good, and it was so.

And no we’ve been on the road for a little over two hours, looking to be on the road for a further three hours. Yay. On the other hand, the road is sparkly, and the clouds are beautiful. And I will probably double the amount of my freckles by the time we get there. *sigh*

We’ve gone 168 km, go us!

Geo: “Are we there yet?”
Fraulein: “You should do something fun while you you wait!”
Snazel: “You can always take up slapping yourself for personal amusement!”
Fraulein: “Self abuse is not entertainment.”
Snazel: “I’m just pinking my cheeks the natural way.” *lofty*

Oh, and when we stopped for a bathroom break a lovely old lady asked if four of my younger siblings were my children. This selection of my siblings included Slonner, who is 12 and a half. *headdesk* I guess my work clothes make me look REALLY mature? On the other hand, I just slapped Fraulein while she was driving “to make sure her eyes didn’t close,” and accused her music of being a travesty. So perhaps Maturity is negotiable? Yep, that’s what I think.

In other news, Fraulein and I are meeting up with at least two other friends, perhaps more, and going to a movie tonight! It has been suggested that we watch a chick flick. My response, roughly, was “Yeah, sure! I know a great one called Star Trek! I’m just gonna go watch it, you can join me if you want. Tah!”

At work today my printer wasn’t working when I went to balance out, so I had to call tech support. (We restarted the computer. :D) While waiting for the computer to claw its way back into relevance, I long-dated one arm, and date-stamped the other. It seemed like a good idea at the time. That’s all I have to say on that subject. Annnddd, the air conditioning doesn’t seem to be working. How dreadfully jolly. I think I’m going to buy myself a milkshake at our next stop! Good plan, me!

Geo: “Oh! I see houses!”
Snazel: *monotone* “False hope. False hope.”