missmiah: (Housewife)
( May. 10th, 2015 01:59 am)
I've been cheating on the SS/HG fandom over the last few months.

I still love SS/HG, but I've had almost no interest in writing anything in years. I've got a couple thousand words on several stories, two that are have been wasting away on my computer for years, but nothing calls to me anymore.

In comparison, I started paying attention to the Big Bang Theory fandom two months ago and am already ten thousand words into an Amy/Sheldon fic that may never see the light of day.

I started watching BBC's Sherlock literally two weeks ago and I've got twelve thousand words of Sherlock/Molly fic, seven thousand of which are just plot outline/dialogue samples (another fic that may never see the light of day).

The above word counts were probably also influenced by a hypomania period where I was getting three hours of sleep max for close to two weeks, and literally writing with two word docs up on my screen at the same time, hopping back and forth as thoughts came to me.

So, you know, YAY for faulty brain chemistry. I guess.

(Still no porns though. Although the nerds did get to second base.)
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I did the treadmill stress test and echocardiogram thing for my heart yesterday. Although I only managed six minutes on the treadmill at a whopping max speed of 2.7 mph, I did not die so I consider that an over all win. I also got to see the live feed of the ultrasounds they did of my heart, which was kind of creepy cool.

The down side was they spent nearly an hour trying to get an IV in so they could inject me with some dye to make the heart images better and never managed to actually get the IV going. They brought in the "vein expert" and he stabbed me twice, the second time resulting in my legs flailing around like I was being electrocuted because OMG someone trying to put in an IV in the back of your hand without deadening it first HURTS LIKE A SON OF A FISH. But I did not move my arm and I only screamed a tiny bit and I did not curse anyone's parents for bringing their horrible spawn into the world to mutilate my arm, so... win again?

Anywho, they were able to do the ultrasounds without the dye, and they called me yesterday afternoon to tell me my heart looked normal so I didn't need to panic about that.

And I'm wearing a heart monitor for a month, which is already irritating the heck out of my skin where the electrodes are attached, because of course it is. And I discovered last night that wearing a sports bra to sleep is not terribly comfortable, but I can tuck the monitor sensor into the cleavage without worrying that it's going to unplug during the night. Unfortunatly, it appears that the cleavage also provides just enough insulation that the sensor doesn't adequately broadcast to the receiver on my nightstand if I'm facing away from it. So, you know, I'm going to count that one as a win for my ample bosom and call it good because I'm looking for the bright side of things right now.

In other news, the Captain was supposed to have today off but a few of his soldiers needed to report on base at five to do a thing they've put off until the last minute so he had to text them to remind them this afternoon. Then at five thirty he received a text from his boss saying some of his soldiers did not report so Captain needed to round them up and go to base himself to deal with that, which was annoying because it's a day off, but it's his job so you can't very well tell them no. However, he was so annoyed he decided to take the Demon Spawn and one of Demon Spawn's very loud electronic toys with him because if he had to suffer, everyone else was going to suffer by golly! So we're apparently using the child for revenge now. I'm surprisingly okay with it.

I've knit my first mitten, which I'm proud of. It's a convertible mitten so you can flip the top part backwards to expose the fingers for phone texting and whatnot. It has a thumb, even. But now I have to knit a second one and I'm a little concerned they won't match, that I'll end up adding or deleting a row somewhere or something.

I'm also hoping to get some writing done this year, but I said that last year and only managed maybe ten thousand words of fic, and now I'm playing WoW again so I doubt I'll even get that much done.
Also, because I forgot to mention it in the last post, I managed to tear/damage/bork my right rotator cuff some weeks ago, which was as unfun as you can imagine. I have no clue how I managed to mess it up, but the doctor confirmed it was borked and I'll be visiting a physical therapist at the end of the week who will probably be able to get my full range of motion back eventually, but there's a pretty good chance I'll never regain full strength in that arm without surgery and that's not going to happen anytime soon.

So.

OH, and then I fell down the stairs again after I hurt the arm, and rather stupidly reached out to try to stop the fall with the bad arm and yanked it backwards and that was a HUGE MISTAKE.

So, funtimes at the Miss Miah household.

In actually yay news, I've got nearly 11k words of fic done for a story that was supposed to be PWP. Ask me if there's been anything close to sexytimes in it yet? No, there hasn't, because it is apparently impossible for me to write PWP fics. Sadly, the 11k is not from the fic I have owed someone for about a bajillion years, that fic is only at about 3.5k, but at least Hermione and Severus have actually come face to face in that one now (as of the last three hundred words).

Time to feed the Demon Spawn. My life is so glamorous.
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Yesterday the Captain was three-fourths of the way through his work week (two days work, two nights work, three to four days off depending on if that last day is a week day or not in which case he gets most of the day off but still has to go in for PT at ass crack o' early in the morning and honestly it's all just very complicated). Anyway, it was the second day of night shift so he was pretty much asleep all morning and then left early in the afternoon for work. Also, normally the kid is pretty happy rolling around on the office floor, smacking things with his toys, shoving toys into his pie hole, trying to stealthly burrow under the futon to begin setting up his secret lair, all that stuff pre-walking midgets do.

So I figured with Captain not demanding any of my attention and the kiddo doing his eight month old thing, I would have time to sit down and write fic, which is something I've been wanting to do for AGES.

Yeah, that did not work.

I mean, I wrote maybe two paragraphs and double checked some research (pages and pages and pages of notes on Australia I shall probably never ever reference, but that's how I roll, yo) and I had one of those brilliant AH-HA moments when I suddenly figured out how to get the two big plot point/plot lines of the fic to merge without going "Ok, so we've got Plot Point One covered so... ok, info dump out of no where for the next part".

Which, by the way, I've seen some fics do and I just go "Seriously? You think resolving the main focus of your fic up to this point - ie, Snape and Herms are in lurve and/or getting their groove thang on - and you apparently don't want to stop getting reviews on the fic you've already got established so you just tack your ideas for a sequel on to the fic and hope we won't notice that suddenly the happy couple are now being stalked by this insane ex-Death Eater that has sworn to murderate them both but that we have never even heard of before in the entire first seventy chapters of your fic?" I mean, I'm sure insane stalker fic is awesome... but it should probably be it's own fic. A sequel. Hell, even call it Book Two of the Never Ending Grape/Snermione/whatever you call SS/HG hookin-up fic epic quadrilogy. I don't care what you call it, just stop writing fics that are 184 chapters long and are actually three different story lines all shoved together so that the day Herms (or Snape) gets out of the hospital/watches a nasty get sent to Azkaban/tells the other they're in love, they don't end up being abducted by mutant aardvarks forcing Snape to spend the next twenty chapters trying to get them back. Because no. Story resolution. Learn what it means.

And I've become utterly distracted, haven't I?

Anyway, so I did some research and wrote a little bit and the kid didn't want to drink his bottle but he was hungry and he may be teething, I can't tell, and the husband was all "I forgot to eat before work, can I have some money for food?" and the Demon Spawn wanted cuddles and more cuddles and then didn't want any cuddles and then changed his mind two minutes later and I can not type while holding a squirming eight month old.

So, while I have ideas for both of the new WIPS I've been trying to write (one of which is so seriously overdue that I actually feel ashamed and will not be posting any new fic or chapters to Walls until I have it finished and ready to give to the person it was promised to ages ago) and my mind is constantly giving me details and scenarios I can't actually get the time to sit and do it without everything else getting in the way.

In other totally related news - the entire house has been cleaned top to bottom, just in time for the dog to pee all over the dining room carpet (and we're out of the dog pee enzyme cleaner stuff) and one of the cats to barf on our bedroom floor. Also, there is pink hairdye all over the shower grout because of reasons.

PS - If I ever finish it, anyone want to proof read a fic set in Australia? There may be marsupials and/or Luna involved. But not a marsupial Luna because that would be weird. Or at least weirder than normal for Luna.
Yesterday the Captain was three-fourths of the way through his work week (two days work, two nights work, three to four days off depending on if that last day is a week day or not in which case he gets most of the day off but still has to go in for PT at ass crack o' early in the morning and honestly it's all just very complicated). Anyway, it was the second day of night shift so he was pretty much asleep all morning and then left early in the afternoon for work. Also, normally the kid is pretty happy rolling around on the office floor, smacking things with his toys, shoving toys into his pie hole, trying to stealthly burrow under the futon to begin setting up his secret lair, all that stuff pre-walking midgets do.

So I figured with Captain not demanding any of my attention and the kiddo doing his eight month old thing, I would have time to sit down and write fic, which is something I've been wanting to do for AGES.

Yeah, that did not work.

I mean, I wrote maybe two paragraphs and double checked some research (pages and pages and pages of notes on Australia I shall probably never ever reference, but that's how I roll, yo) and I had one of those brilliant AH-HA moments when I suddenly figured out how to get the two big plot point/plot lines of the fic to merge without going "Ok, so we've got Plot Point One covered so... ok, info dump out of no where for the next part".

Which, by the way, I've seen some fics do and I just go "Seriously? You think resolving the main focus of your fic up to this point - ie, Snape and Herms are in lurve and/or getting their groove thang on - and you apparently don't want to stop getting reviews on the fic you've already got established so you just tack your ideas for a sequel on to the fic and hope we won't notice that suddenly the happy couple are now being stalked by this insane ex-Death Eater that has sworn to murderate them both but that we have never even heard of before in the entire first seventy chapters of your fic?" I mean, I'm sure insane stalker fic is awesome... but it should probably be it's own fic. A sequel. Hell, even call it Book Two of the Never Ending Grape/Snermione/whatever you call SS/HG hookin-up fic epic quadrilogy. I don't care what you call it, just stop writing fics that are 184 chapters long and are actually three different story lines all shoved together so that the day Herms (or Snape) gets out of the hospital/watches a nasty get sent to Azkaban/tells the other they're in love, they don't end up being abducted by mutant aardvarks forcing Snape to spend the next twenty chapters trying to get them back. Because no. Story resolution. Learn what it means.

And I've become utterly distracted, haven't I?

Anyway, so I did some research and wrote a little bit and the kid didn't want to drink his bottle but he was hungry and he may be teething, I can't tell, and the husband was all "I forgot to eat before work, can I have some money for food?" and the Demon Spawn wanted cuddles and more cuddles and then didn't want any cuddles and then changed his mind two minutes later and I can not type while holding a squirming eight month old.

So, while I have ideas for both of the new WIPS I've been trying to write (one of which is so seriously overdue that I actually feel ashamed and will not be posting any new fic or chapters to Walls until I have it finished and ready to give to the person it was promised to ages ago) and my mind is constantly giving me details and scenarios I can't actually get the time to sit and do it without everything else getting in the way.

In other totally related news - the entire house has been cleaned top to bottom, just in time for the dog to pee all over the dining room carpet (and we're out of the dog pee enzyme cleaner stuff) and one of the cats to barf on our bedroom floor. Also, there is pink hairdye all over the shower grout because of reasons.

PS - If I ever finish it, anyone want to proof read a fic set in Australia? There may be marsupials and/or Luna involved. But not a marsupial Luna because that would be weird. Or at least weirder than normal for Luna.
I was doing a little housecleaning on my fic journal because of another (outside LJ) project that required links to where all my various bits of horrid fic were hiding, and I realized that I'd been sitting on finished, previously posted in exchanges, fully beta'd fic that I had never bothered to post in my own fic journal. Fic that was years old.

Heck, one of them had never been posted ANYWHERE but the exchange it was originally written for.

So, yeah.

That's why [livejournal.com profile] darnedchild suddenly has some new stuff in it, and not because I've actually finished writing anything new.

Although, I did open up a WIP and made a few notes on it last night, before the Demon Spawn decided he really did not want to be in bed, thanks, and could I come pick him up NOW. Thankfully, Captain is home for the next few days (he's got this horrid rotating shift schedule now, where he's on days for a few days, then nights for a few more, than a couple of days off except for when one of those days lands on a weekday in which case he technically has to go in anyway unless it's the second full moon in a month in which case he just has to dance like a monkey or something but gets to stay home and I don't even know anymore). Anyway, Captain is home, and in theory that means he can help with baby duty for a day or two and I can maybe look at some fic.

Maybe.
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missmiah: (Default)
( Jul. 26th, 2012 12:34 pm)
Am not dead even though I haven't posted in a month, apparently.

Just really been busy.

Have exchange fic that needs at least a good chunk of wordage finished so I can turn it in in... four or five days (yikes) so that I can prove that even though I am a giant slacker with far too much on my plate right now and I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I am at least a headless chicken who has proof that there is exchange fic being worked on in my 'puter and that my assignment will be completed by the deadline (please, please let me finish my assignment by the deadline).

I'm hoping the mods aren't expecting actual proofed fic parts at this mid-point check in cause I haven't even started talking to a beta yet because... well, slacker.

ALSO - I went home to KS for a few days and had baby showers! There were people there just to say hi to me and give me (technically the demon spawn, I guess, but right now he's still just a parasite so I'm pretty sure that counts as me again) presents. So many little outfits and towels and hats with ears. HATS WITH EARS!

Okay, enough with the girly squeeing, but it was super awesome to see people I haven't seen in years again. At the family shower there was a second cousin I have not seen since she was maybe five or six? She's graduated high school and having a baby a month after me now. So many years.

One shower was Harry Potter themed (because I have awesomely dorky friends), so there are a few pictures of me dressed up as a pregnant Slytherin student standing next to my dorky Captain in his Ravenclaw tie. If I remember, there may even be a pic or two posted on LJ later - probably more posted on Facebook where some of the people in the pictures can see them.

House is about to be turned upside down as we begin to shift my office/craft making furniture into Captain's office (we're going to share, yay /sarcasm) so that we can turn this room into the future nursery. Lots of furniture has to vacate Captain's office to make room for me first, which means some furniture has to move out of the living room to make room for Captain's furniture... I'm sure you can see where this is going. And I'm still going to be left with a random Futon that I can't decide if we should keep or try to sell (seriously $150 for the wood sided futon and a huge fluffy pad, is a good deal, I swear).

Plus, I need to write Thank You notes this weekend, send a care package to Captain's sister in which ever desert she's currently stationed, pack my office, finish knitting the chalice lace baby blanket, start knitting the next in a long line of hats/blankets, WRITE TWO HG/SS FICS (OMG NEED TO DO THIS NOW) and clean the house up before the parents come to visit in two weeks so they can help us move the big pieces of furniture and also so they are not sleeping in a slightly dog tinkly scented living room (I'm glaring at you Colonel Brandon, we found what you did in that corner and we do not approve).

OH, and finally, the dog got his yearly haircut and they shaved him down to the skin almost this time. He looks so sad. It's hilarious, honestly. I feel sorry for him and give him carrots and tell him how handsome he is in a bid to try to boost his self-esteem.
Exchange prompts went out today and that means someone, somewhere, has received the assignment to write or doodle something for me (woot for stuff!). Last exchange we were asked to leave a post on our LJs for the anonymous gifter types to find in case they wanted some clarification on what would make us barf to get, so... I'm just gonna leave a link to that post here, in case anyone needs/wants to see it.
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First things first - I signed up for the [livejournal.com profile] sshg_exchange at the last minute, because I am a sucker and I love me some Exchange gifts (mine, someone else's, whatever I don't care, post a gift, I enjoy). I shamelessly reused most of my prompts from last time because I am lazy, but the new one I spent all day (when I wasn't napping) coming up with amuses me greatly so yay for that. And one of the reused ones has actually sparked a plot bunny of my own, but that one can't be worked on until I finish the Exchange Bingo fic that I owe someone, so I'll have to wait for that.

Secondly, I ended up in the ER Saturday night for baby related issues. One of the perks - you know, other than ending up with a baby at the end, I guess - of pregnancy was the thought that I wouldn't have to deal with menstrual cramps for nine months. Turns out that's not one hundred percent accurate, apparently. See, there is this thing called round-ligament syndrome (or something similar, again, I'm lazy and I don't want to bother looking it up) and that feels almost exactly like... yep, you guessed it, menstrual cramps.

Except that no one really bothers to warn you about that ahead of time. Consider this your early warning potential baby makers on my flist, just a public service announcement from me to you.

Also, cramping in that area is an early warning sign for all sorts of things that are considered Bad during pregnancy, so if you know about the warning signs but aren't terribly aware of what round-ligament syndrome pain is going to feel like and you suddenly develop waves of menstrual cramps that go from mild to OMG SOMEONE HAS PUT MY GIRLY INNARDS IN A CUISINART and then back to mild on and off for three days, you might panic and end up at the ER.

Where the idiots live.

So, I spent three hours there only to end up with a diagnosis of - and I am seriously not making this up, I have the paperwork in front of me and everything - pelvic pain and intrauterine pregnancy. Yes, that's right, three hours after I showed up they discharged me with a diagnosis of "you hurt and also you are pregnant". No explanation for the cramping (which is STILL happening).

ALSO, they insisted I needed an IV (which I agreed was highly probable since even I could tell I was probably dehydrated) but the nurse who first came in to do it did not believe me when I told him I was a difficult stick and that he would probably need a small needle. It was all "Oh, no, Doc wants an IV so I need a bigger needle, I'm good at this, it will be fine." HAHAHA, no. So two attempts from him, including blowing out my one good arm vein, and then he called in the other nurse. She was sweet and nice and blew a vein in my hand, but at least she felt bad about it. She called in the current on call "expert", a very polite and understanding lady who kept trying to make me feel better because I was crying by the time she made attempts four and five (the side of my wrist and then back up to near the blown good vein), and told me how much she appreciated that I wasn't screaming or cursing or trying to hit her by that point (Apparently there are people even worse than me when it comes to IVs, who knew?) before she gave up. I bravely asked who was next, and then the Doc apparently gave the order that I really didn't need an IV, I just needed to drink some water.

While I appreciated the end of the poking torture, it seems to me that if I was dehydrated enough that no one could get an IV into my, admittedly difficult on a good day, veins, then perhaps I really did need the IV after all, but I gave up and started chugging water because I am not a medical professional. Honestly, at that point I just wanted a diagnosis and to be reassured that the baby was fine and that my cramping was not the beginning of a miscarriage. Captain stood by my side (or at my feet during some of the IV shenanigans) constantly in tactile contact to make me feel better during the worst of it, and kept reminding me that no matter what happened, if we lost the baby it was not my fault. Which I appreciated.

Also, there was barf bag hand puppet theater when we were in between nurses and doctors.

Anyway, after two and a bit hours, there was a pelvic exam where I was told I might have an infection - I didn't - and then an ultrasound given by a Doctor who couldn't even figure out how to plug the machine in for ten minutes. I am not kidding. Still, squirming baby and a heartbeat so that helped to reassure me. Then we were told to sit and wait for the tests to come back so we could get an antibiotic for the non-existent infection, and then thirty minutes later the discharge nurse popped in to tell me I was pregnant and send me home. I asked about the antibiotic, she confirmed there was no infection (HA, I knew it) and no one had an explanation about the cramping, but I was told to come back if there was bleeding and that was it.

Luckily, the ladies on my Facebook are not as clueless as the ER peeps and several of them recognized the pain as probably round-ligament syndrome. I can live with the annoying pain as long as I know that it's normal to a pregnancy and it's not going to kill the baby or me. Also, a bit of reassurance from the ER would have gone a long way, versus the whole "we don't know, but we don't think it's serious" crap I got.

So, moral of the story, my innards are stretching and OMG it's like my period all over again and I thought I was done with that for nine months and also the base ER is full of the stupids.
First things first - I signed up for the [community profile] sshg_exchange at the last minute, because I am a sucker and I love me some Exchange gifts (mine, someone else's, whatever I don't care, post a gift, I enjoy). I shamelessly reused most of my prompts from last time because I am lazy, but the new one I spent all day (when I wasn't napping) coming up with amuses me greatly so yay for that. And one of the reused ones has actually sparked a plot bunny of my own, but that one can't be worked on until I finish the Exchange Bingo fic that I owe someone, so I'll have to wait for that.

Secondly, I ended up in the ER Saturday night for baby related issues. One of the perks - you know, other than ending up with a baby at the end, I guess - of pregnancy was the thought that I wouldn't have to deal with menstrual cramps for nine months. Turns out that's not one hundred percent accurate, apparently. See, there is this thing called round-ligament syndrome (or something similar, again, I'm lazy and I don't want to bother looking it up) and that feels almost exactly like... yep, you guessed it, menstrual cramps.

Except that no one really bothers to warn you about that ahead of time. Consider this your early warning potential baby makers on my flist, just a public service announcement from me to you.

Also, cramping in that area is an early warning sign for all sorts of things that are considered Bad during pregnancy, so if you know about the warning signs but aren't terribly aware of what round-ligament syndrome pain is going to feel like and you suddenly develop waves of menstrual cramps that go from mild to OMG SOMEONE HAS PUT MY GIRLY INNARDS IN A CUISINART and then back to mild on and off for three days, you might panic and end up at the ER.

Where the idiots live.

So, I spent three hours there only to end up with a diagnosis of - and I am seriously not making this up, I have the paperwork in front of me and everything - pelvic pain and intrauterine pregnancy. Yes, that's right, three hours after I showed up they discharged me with a diagnosis of "you hurt and also you are pregnant". No explanation for the cramping (which is STILL happening).

ALSO, they insisted I needed an IV (which I agreed was highly probable since even I could tell I was probably dehydrated) but the nurse who first came in to do it did not believe me when I told him I was a difficult stick and that he would probably need a small needle. It was all "Oh, no, Doc wants an IV so I need a bigger needle, I'm good at this, it will be fine." HAHAHA, no. So two attempts from him, including blowing out my one good arm vein, and then he called in the other nurse. She was sweet and nice and blew a vein in my hand, but at least she felt bad about it. She called in the current on call "expert", a very polite and understanding lady who kept trying to make me feel better because I was crying by the time she made attempts four and five (the side of my wrist and then back up to near the blown good vein), and told me how much she appreciated that I wasn't screaming or cursing or trying to hit her by that point (Apparently there are people even worse than me when it comes to IVs, who knew?) before she gave up. I bravely asked who was next, and then the Doc apparently gave the order that I really didn't need an IV, I just needed to drink some water.

While I appreciated the end of the poking torture, it seems to me that if I was dehydrated enough that no one could get an IV into my, admittedly difficult on a good day, veins, then perhaps I really did need the IV after all, but I gave up and started chugging water because I am not a medical professional. Honestly, at that point I just wanted a diagnosis and to be reassured that the baby was fine and that my cramping was not the beginning of a miscarriage. Captain stood by my side (or at my feet during some of the IV shenanigans) constantly in tactile contact to make me feel better during the worst of it, and kept reminding me that no matter what happened, if we lost the baby it was not my fault. Which I appreciated.

Also, there was barf bag hand puppet theater when we were in between nurses and doctors.

Anyway, after two and a bit hours, there was a pelvic exam where I was told I might have an infection - I didn't - and then an ultrasound given by a Doctor who couldn't even figure out how to plug the machine in for ten minutes. I am not kidding. Still, squirming baby and a heartbeat so that helped to reassure me. Then we were told to sit and wait for the tests to come back so we could get an antibiotic for the non-existent infection, and then thirty minutes later the discharge nurse popped in to tell me I was pregnant and send me home. I asked about the antibiotic, she confirmed there was no infection (HA, I knew it) and no one had an explanation about the cramping, but I was told to come back if there was bleeding and that was it.

Luckily, the ladies on my Facebook are not as clueless as the ER peeps and several of them recognized the pain as probably round-ligament syndrome. I can live with the annoying pain as long as I know that it's normal to a pregnancy and it's not going to kill the baby or me. Also, a bit of reassurance from the ER would have gone a long way, versus the whole "we don't know, but we don't think it's serious" crap I got.

So, moral of the story, my innards are stretching and OMG it's like my period all over again and I thought I was done with that for nine months and also the base ER is full of the stupids.
Yesterday I did something that I swore that I would never, ever, ever in a million years do ... I brought a scale into the house.

It is no secret that I have food issues. I'm a comfort eater (I know, huge shocker, right?) and I know it, but I am also aware that if I start analyzing the food that goes into my mouth in more than a half-arsed "oh, yeah, diabetic so veggies good, carbs bad, protein ok, lets try to avoid having flat out sugar every single day" way then I will start obsessing about calories and carb conversions and then I'll get self conscious about eating in front of people and it will be a repeat of that year in college where I didn't eat a single meal in front of another person and ended up taking every single meal home in a to-go box when I went out with friends.

Yeah ... I freely admit I'm neurotic.

Anyway, I am fat and I know that and I don't particularly feel the need to know the exact amount of fat that I am in poundage thanks, the general gist is enough for me. I knew I was losing weight because my pants needed a belt and I couldn't wear my wedding ring to bed anymore because it kept falling off. Again, didn't need to know the exact weight loss, didn't care. Weight coming off equals good for health reasons and also for getting annoying doctor off my back so that was good enough for me.

However, it turns out that you're supposed to monitor your weight super close during a pregnancy (or so I've been lead to believe) and those weekly (and sometimes twice weekly) weigh-ins at the hospital have started to take their insidious toll upon my psyche and suddenly I'm keeping track of weight loss and gain in the tenths of a pound increments and that annoys the hell out of me because now I have to stare at everything on my plate and think "Is this too carby? Will I get enough vitamins for the kid? Am I getting enough calories? Should I eat this piece of whole wheat bread because bread is a carb and carbs are bad but also the baby needs whole wheaty things and screw it all I want a Swiss Cake Roll."

Do not even get me started on the fiasco that was my last discussion with my OB in which she added "if you think you're going to have a heavier or carb filled meal, just inject some more insulin" to the list of CAN THIS GET ANY MORE CONFUSING?

So, that's why there's an evil scale in my bathroom that I already hate and that seems to be insisting that I weight five pounds more than I did last week at the doctor's office (which was about four pounds more than a week and a half before that, but I keep telling myself that my thick soled heavy sandals are at least three pounds of that, damnit), which wouldn't be so bad if I could just see it as a number that means nothing on its own and is only to be used to gauge losses and gains. Except the scale lies to me and keeps changing its mind by a few pounds every time I step on it, so I have no idea if I'm going up or down or staying even, and I'm seriously considering tossing it in the trash after only a day.

In happier news, there are now Swiss Cake Rolls in the house.

In less happy news, my thighs are covered in red marks and bruises that are mostly faded to yellow thanks to my insulin shots. Also, the kid is still dead set on its campaign to cripple me and has upped the ante to include making it nearly impossible to sit through a two and a half hour movie and still be able to stand up after and setting my thigh muscles on fire randomly as I sleep.

I am pretty sure I'm going to give birth to some slightly milder version of Rosemary's baby.

Tenth wedding anniversary is coming up in a few short weeks, and then near the end of July I am planning to make my first plane trip since high school to head back to Kansas for a week to visit friends and family (if everything works out, still in the planning stages of that one). Also, I have a fic that is SUPER overdue, and I need to decide if I'm going to sign up for the [livejournal.com profile] sshg_exchange, which I really want to do but I'm also looking at the next few months of my life and wondering how much time I'll have to write between doctors visits and homicidal fetus attacks and insulin issues. I've got until the 21st (I think) to decide, so I've got a few days still before I have to commit one way or the other.
Yesterday I did something that I swore that I would never, ever, ever in a million years do ... I brought a scale into the house.

It is no secret that I have food issues. I'm a comfort eater (I know, huge shocker, right?) and I know it, but I am also aware that if I start analyzing the food that goes into my mouth in more than a half-arsed "oh, yeah, diabetic so veggies good, carbs bad, protein ok, lets try to avoid having flat out sugar every single day" way then I will start obsessing about calories and carb conversions and then I'll get self conscious about eating in front of people and it will be a repeat of that year in college where I didn't eat a single meal in front of another person and ended up taking every single meal home in a to-go box when I went out with friends.

Yeah ... I freely admit I'm neurotic.

Anyway, I am fat and I know that and I don't particularly feel the need to know the exact amount of fat that I am in poundage thanks, the general gist is enough for me. I knew I was losing weight because my pants needed a belt and I couldn't wear my wedding ring to bed anymore because it kept falling off. Again, didn't need to know the exact weight loss, didn't care. Weight coming off equals good for health reasons and also for getting annoying doctor off my back so that was good enough for me.

However, it turns out that you're supposed to monitor your weight super close during a pregnancy (or so I've been lead to believe) and those weekly (and sometimes twice weekly) weigh-ins at the hospital have started to take their insidious toll upon my psyche and suddenly I'm keeping track of weight loss and gain in the tenths of a pound increments and that annoys the hell out of me because now I have to stare at everything on my plate and think "Is this too carby? Will I get enough vitamins for the kid? Am I getting enough calories? Should I eat this piece of whole wheat bread because bread is a carb and carbs are bad but also the baby needs whole wheaty things and screw it all I want a Swiss Cake Roll."

Do not even get me started on the fiasco that was my last discussion with my OB in which she added "if you think you're going to have a heavier or carb filled meal, just inject some more insulin" to the list of CAN THIS GET ANY MORE CONFUSING?

So, that's why there's an evil scale in my bathroom that I already hate and that seems to be insisting that I weight five pounds more than I did last week at the doctor's office (which was about four pounds more than a week and a half before that, but I keep telling myself that my thick soled heavy sandals are at least three pounds of that, damnit), which wouldn't be so bad if I could just see it as a number that means nothing on its own and is only to be used to gauge losses and gains. Except the scale lies to me and keeps changing its mind by a few pounds every time I step on it, so I have no idea if I'm going up or down or staying even, and I'm seriously considering tossing it in the trash after only a day.

In happier news, there are now Swiss Cake Rolls in the house.

In less happy news, my thighs are covered in red marks and bruises that are mostly faded to yellow thanks to my insulin shots. Also, the kid is still dead set on its campaign to cripple me and has upped the ante to include making it nearly impossible to sit through a two and a half hour movie and still be able to stand up after and setting my thigh muscles on fire randomly as I sleep.

I am pretty sure I'm going to give birth to some slightly milder version of Rosemary's baby.

Tenth wedding anniversary is coming up in a few short weeks, and then near the end of July I am planning to make my first plane trip since high school to head back to Kansas for a week to visit friends and family (if everything works out, still in the planning stages of that one). Also, I have a fic that is SUPER overdue, and I need to decide if I'm going to sign up for the [community profile] sshg_exchange, which I really want to do but I'm also looking at the next few months of my life and wondering how much time I'll have to write between doctors visits and homicidal fetus attacks and insulin issues. I've got until the 21st (I think) to decide, so I've got a few days still before I have to commit one way or the other.
missmiah: (Housewife)
( Feb. 13th, 2012 06:20 pm)
I received my giant list of corrections for Part Two of Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose a day or two ago and finally got around to making them this afternoon (unpacking and cleaning is very time consuming). Then I had a tiny bit of a wait to hear back from the mod who was validating my fic because I had a couple of questions, and then Part Two posted not too long after that. The whole queue process for Part Two was roughly two weeksish, which is about half the time of Part One--but Part One was submitted during the post-holiday/post-Exchange rush, so I expected something like that.

Anyway, at some point this afternoon I submitted Part Two to Ashwinder, fully expecting to hear back from them in a few days to a week with their list of corrections.

I just checked the recently updated list to see if there was any updates for fics I'm reading and there was Part Two. Less than four hours and no corrections!

Yay?

If I get some time tomorrow, I will attempt to post both parts on [livejournal.com profile] darnedchild. OH, and I've got three spiffy story banners to show off later as well, prizes from the Exchange Bingo.
missmiah: (Housewife)
( Jan. 30th, 2012 09:50 am)
Rather than packing as soon as I got up this morning (which I really should have been doing), I finished making some corrections on Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose Part 1 so I can send it back to the Archive That Will Remain Nameless. Then I thought I'd get a head start on fixing up Part 2 by looking for the easily findable errors that I'd made in the first part.

You know, forgetting that first space before an ellipse (which I suck at) or that really wonky thing my first part had that involved my quotation marks appearing three different ways for some reason. I fixed all of those in Part 2--and double checked the other two fics sitting in my "Submit Eventually" pile. Then I decided to go through and try to double check my canon spellings because I tend to double check those things on the HP Lexicon or the Potter Wiki. The Lexi is riddled with errors and the Wiki seems to just copy and paste most of its info directly from the Lexi.

So, I did some digging around in the submission rules at Ashwinder and the Other Archive, only to discover that most of the Potter word resources listed have disappeared. And a good chunk of the ones that are left have not been updated to reflect the new canon. Ashwinder's list has nothing from book seven, for example.

I fully understand that compiling a word list--even from just one book--is a giant pain in the rear, and I for one do not have the time to devote to something like that (right now, although that is just the sort of thing I live for normally), so I can understand why it hasn't been done. But it does make things much more difficult.

I'm hoping looking things up will become much easier once Pottermore opens its store and the "official" e-books are released for purchase. I'm completely tech stupid regarding e-readers, but surely there is a search function on one of them? Of course, then you run into the issue where e-books are traditionally riddled with typos and errors--which I just do not understand. In this day and age, how difficult is it to just use the same file that someone has proofed for the printed book and copy it over for the e-book? It's not as if someone has to type each word in from a hardbound copy into a brand new file. And even if they did, hire a competent typist and stop being so cheap, e-publishers.

And now I've veered completely off topic.

Right, so ... up to date and archive accurate Potter word resource anyone?

Suggestions?

Help?

I just want a place where I don't have to look the same thing up four times just to verify that most of them have the same spelling. Which they don't. Apparently.

Still bitter.

ETA: Lariope pointed me in the direction of the potterwords LJ, so now I've got an updated resource to reference! WOOT!
Punctuation is weird.

I mean, I knew that before, obviously.

But Lariope has been trying to help me clean my fic up so I can submit it to the Archive That Shall Remain Nameless For the Moment, and she has been explaining all the changes (mostly punctuation) and why she's changing them.

And then I had to ask her to explain several of them again, because I was the crappiest English major on the planet and never really bothered to learn about things like comma splices and dangling partiwhatisits and when a comma is appropriate and when it should be a semicolon.

Last night she explained the differences between hyphens, em dashes and en dashes. I am just going to admit outright that I didn't even know an en dash was a thing. Seriously, I figured they were all sort of just hyphens, I swear. One of them was just bigger than the other, like an uber hyphen.

Apparently, this is not the case.

ALSO, did you know that there are no spaces between em dashes and the words before and after them?

I didn't.

That just completely blows my mind.

How can you even read things like that? With the words and the uber hyphen all smushed up together.

ALSO ALSO, did you know that an ellipse isn't supposed to be three periods in a row? It's supposed to be three evenly spaced periods . . . With spaces between them, according to the punctuation guide on the Nameless Archive that I was looking through in an effort to figure out how to make uber hyphens not look like two hyphens just hanging out together. How is that not awkward to look at?

Anyway, I've got to go back through the corrections I've already made to both parts of Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose, so that I can do the em dash smush (which sounds like a new dance craze that those young whippersnappers are always coming up with), but I think I'm going to just pretend I don't know about that rule in my every day typing of words sort of thing. Definitely not going to do it when I hand write things because I will never be able to read any of it.

My handwriting is made of pleh.

This post is brought to you by the letters E, R and M, and the number i.
Punctuation is weird.

I mean, I knew that before, obviously.

But Lariope has been trying to help me clean my fic up so I can submit it to the Archive That Shall Remain Nameless For the Moment, and she has been explaining all the changes (mostly punctuation) and why she's changing them.

And then I had to ask her to explain several of them again, because I was the crappiest English major on the planet and never really bothered to learn about things like comma splices and dangling partiwhatisits and when a comma is appropriate and when it should be a semicolon.

Last night she explained the differences between hyphens, em dashes and en dashes. I am just going to admit outright that I didn't even know an en dash was a thing. Seriously, I figured they were all sort of just hyphens, I swear. One of them was just bigger than the other, like an uber hyphen.

Apparently, this is not the case.

ALSO, did you know that there are no spaces between em dashes and the words before and after them?

I didn't.

That just completely blows my mind.

How can you even read things like that? With the words and the uber hyphen all smushed up together.

ALSO ALSO, did you know that an ellipse isn't supposed to be three periods in a row? It's supposed to be three evenly spaced periods . . . With spaces between them, according to the punctuation guide on the Nameless Archive that I was looking through in an effort to figure out how to make uber hyphens not look like two hyphens just hanging out together. How is that not awkward to look at?

Anyway, I've got to go back through the corrections I've already made to both parts of Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose, so that I can do the em dash smush (which sounds like a new dance craze that those young whippersnappers are always coming up with), but I think I'm going to just pretend I don't know about that rule in my every day typing of words sort of thing. Definitely not going to do it when I hand write things because I will never be able to read any of it.

My handwriting is made of pleh.

This post is brought to you by the letters E, R and M, and the number i.
missmiah: (Pen of DC)
( Jan. 4th, 2012 04:41 pm)
Gah, I hate that horrible nervous feeling I always get every time I submit something new to an archive.

Doesn't matter how many people look it over before hand, I'm always afraid it's going to be rejected without a chance to make corrections.

Blerg.

First part of Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose sent off. Wish me luck.
Tags:
missmiah: (Pen of DC)
( Jan. 4th, 2012 04:41 pm)
Gah, I hate that horrible nervous feeling I always get every time I submit something new to an archive.

Doesn't matter how many people look it over before hand, I'm always afraid it's going to be rejected without a chance to make corrections.

Blerg.

First part of Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose sent off. Wish me luck.
Tags:
Yesterday was a total wash in regards to productivity.

Seriously. I don't even remember what happened between my waking up and Captain coming home to pick me up for the drive to SC for my Crazy!Doc appointment other than my face hurt due to sinus congestion. I must have taken a shower at some point because my hair was wet and I was wearing Going Outside clothes. I had to put my morning pills in a baggy to take in the car, at four pm, because I hadn't remembered to do it when I got up.

Last night the Board Gamer group met up at the game store, and I managed to drag my hinny there in time, barely, and played a game of Carcassone and Dominion without making a fool of myself (I even won Carcassone some how), but then I came home and pretty much crashed.

Today has been much more productive, even though I slept late. I'm hoping this means that the cold is finally starting to go away.

So far today I've managed to remember to do all the daily things I'm supposed to do to maintain my health, hahaha. You know, pills and blood sugar readings and putting on the lotion so I don't get the hose again and eating lunch (which I forgot to do yesterday). I've even got one of those fat/calorie counting apps on my phone so I can make myself feel all sorts of shame for eating too much/not enough everyday. This, by the way, is one of the main reasons I hate dieting. Obsessing upon every single thing you put into your mouth is not a good thing, I do not care how overweight you or your doctors think you are. However, that's not the point of this post so I'm going to move on.

[livejournal.com profile] lariopefic has been kind enough to beta my 2011 [livejournal.com profile] sshg_exchange fic - Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose - and today I'm hoping to make those corrections and then attempt to send the first chapter to TPP to see if it will be accepted. This will be the first fic I've attempted to submit to TPP, so we'll see how that goes. Keep your fingers crossed for me. If things go well, I'll try to get some of my older stories posted to that archive as well.

We've made no progress on finding a new place to live, which is annoying the heck out of me. I know it's only been three days since we found out we'll need to move, but I want to have a solution NOW, because I'm horribly impatient.
Yesterday was a total wash in regards to productivity.

Seriously. I don't even remember what happened between my waking up and Captain coming home to pick me up for the drive to SC for my Crazy!Doc appointment other than my face hurt due to sinus congestion. I must have taken a shower at some point because my hair was wet and I was wearing Going Outside clothes. I had to put my morning pills in a baggy to take in the car, at four pm, because I hadn't remembered to do it when I got up.

Last night the Board Gamer group met up at the game store, and I managed to drag my hinny there in time, barely, and played a game of Carcassone and Dominion without making a fool of myself (I even won Carcassone some how), but then I came home and pretty much crashed.

Today has been much more productive, even though I slept late. I'm hoping this means that the cold is finally starting to go away.

So far today I've managed to remember to do all the daily things I'm supposed to do to maintain my health, hahaha. You know, pills and blood sugar readings and putting on the lotion so I don't get the hose again and eating lunch (which I forgot to do yesterday). I've even got one of those fat/calorie counting apps on my phone so I can make myself feel all sorts of shame for eating too much/not enough everyday. This, by the way, is one of the main reasons I hate dieting. Obsessing upon every single thing you put into your mouth is not a good thing, I do not care how overweight you or your doctors think you are. However, that's not the point of this post so I'm going to move on.

[profile] lariopefic has been kind enough to beta my 2011 [community profile] sshg_exchange fic - Neither the Laurel Nor the Rose - and today I'm hoping to make those corrections and then attempt to send the first chapter to TPP to see if it will be accepted. This will be the first fic I've attempted to submit to TPP, so we'll see how that goes. Keep your fingers crossed for me. If things go well, I'll try to get some of my older stories posted to that archive as well.

We've made no progress on finding a new place to live, which is annoying the heck out of me. I know it's only been three days since we found out we'll need to move, but I want to have a solution NOW, because I'm horribly impatient.
.

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