Google+ Followers

Friday, 15 February 2013

Slacking Off, Good Pain, Sweet Talk, Tidbits

I haven't been writing anywhere near as much as I should be. I call it slacking off, but in reality I'm usually pretty busy doing other things. I can't really stand to be otherwise. So, I've been slacking off on my writing...just not anything else. Sure I posted the erotica, and did in fact update it so that it actually fell under the heading of erotica (be sure to check that out here if you're into that sort of thing) rather than just the beginning of some lame story. (There will be more to that story in the near future, though. I'm getting into it rather nicely regarding plotline, and of course the sex.) My book is gathering dust these days, however.

I don't mind, really, since I occasionally need to pause in the middle of writing a big piece. It helps with editing when you no longer remember exactly what you wrote. It's less boring, you pick up on mistakes better, and you gain enough distance to know when something sounds stupid. It's hard to judge when you've just finished writing something and you think you're some sort of literary genius having given birth to the greatest thoughts of all time. A few weeks later you're wondering what the hell you were thinking, and what drugs might possibly have been involved.

I write this daily blog, and do at least one article every week, so I'm staying in practice. I don't think I'll get rusty in that sense, or get out of the habit of writing every day. The erotica keeps me tuned up on fictional stuff. It's just that I have to watch for an overload of sexiness when it comes to writing a book about a serial killer. The two really aren't supposed to go hand-in-hand exactly, unless of course you're a serial killer who's into that kind of thing. Also, the heroine is grieving the loss of her best friend (that's not a spoiler since it's part of the known plot), so I have to keep her from being too happy from all the sex she probably shouldn't be in the mood to be having in the first place.

I still have to finish chapter eight of the final draft, though, and it haunts me. I've got major research to do on a technical aspect, and I just might have to find an expert on that one if I can't figure out the logistics of it for myself. The problem is, the expert I would need probably wouldn't want me to have the answer, unless they were pissed off at their law enforcement employers for some reason. I suppose that's one way to gain useful information, isn't it? You let someone think their employers don't like them or have done something to them, and then you let them vent. Not a very honourable way of doing things, if you ask me. 'News' journalists do that, and it's one reason I never had the inclination to be an actual reporter. You have to be a jerk for reasons that aren't really your own.

Now for the good pain. Yes, there is such a thing. No, it's not a sex thing. Believe me, I understand. My mind would have jumped to the same gutter-brain thought processes. A friend tells me it's because I'm a horny Canadian. Interesting conclusion from someone whose country was founded by prudes, but we'll let that slide. There are plenty of horny Americans, as evidenced by the popularity of porn.

Oh, right. Good pain. Here I refer to muscle pain from working out. I've gone back to weight training, but I'm not getting the soreness I would have expected, and it's disappointing. I need bigger weights. Five pound dumbbells just aren't enough. I thought I'd be seriously out of shape, muscle-wise, but I guess I'm not. It looks like I'll be going to the nearest fitness supply place, which might actually be Wal-Mart. They carry the larger weights, thankfully. I prefer formed dumbbells, rather than adjustable ones (with the exception of the ones made by Bowflex - those are cool and very expensive, but I want them - one day). Dumbbells take up more space, perhaps, but I don't need to turn my workouts into a pain in the ass of changing weight plates.

I also have an aesthetic preference for steel/non-coated weights. The coated ones seem too girly to me, and make me feel like I'm playing with toys. God, I sound so much like a guy sometimes. Thankfully I'm not. I'm female in all the ways that count, even going so far as a serious interest in footwear - albeit mostly boots, but they're usually the really sexy ones. I'll even wear skirts and slinky dresses when the occasion warrants. Now I just need to find some.

Sweet talk is a whole 'nother issue. I won't tell you why that's on my mind, but suffice it to say that it is and I have some general things to say about it. Sweet talk, used for the purposes of talking someone into something, falls along the lines of hypnosis. You can't make someone do something they don't want to do. However, sweet talk is far more insidious in the way that it uses attraction, a fairly effective way of getting what you want. At least for a little while...

In my case it has something to do with a joke, so I take it as such. After all, there isn't a man alive who has actually encountered me in real life who would think sweet talk would be that effective on me - except for when it comes to the obvious reasons, perhaps. Ask any of my exes about my malleability, and they'll laugh and laugh and laugh... Seriously. You'd be lucky to get a coherent sentence out of them for the next fifteen minutes. I'm a tough nut in all senses of the phrase.

Hey, it doesn't matter how big a person is - everyone can be intimidating. I'm only 5'5", and despite being slightly big-boned I'm not a big gal, but as amusing as you or I might find the notion, I tend to scare the crap out of people. I don't have to yell or swear, either. Knowledge, an extensive vocabulary, firmness of opinion and attitude, self-confidence, persistence and the occasional willingness to talk down to someone who is pissing me off, all combine to make me a bit of a force of nature on occasion. Many people I know have asked me to resolve situations for them, including employers, because I'm damn good at it, and I don't put up with bullshit.

Admittedly, a strong sexual attraction certainly weakens the most die-hard ball-buster, and I'm no exception there, but it definitely takes a man who knows what they're doing. They have to be fully cognizant of the triggers, shall we say. Otherwise the effort falls flat and they get 'the look' from me. The look tells them in no uncertain terms that they have failed utterly to get what they wanted, and that now they look ridiculous for having tried such an obvious tactic. It's kind of like a 'puh-lease' with an attached eye-roll. Even if the tactic works, chances are pretty good that I know when it has been employed, but there's something seriously attractive about a guy that can challenge me and win. It's worth losing the battle sometimes.

Since I haven't updated anyone on 'the boys' (my ferrets) in a while, I will do so now. Not a lot has changed for Stimpy. His kidneys are still a bit enlarged, and he's still experiencing periodic bouts of illness in the form of nausea. Now that my daughter is working, though, and is expecting her first paycheque next week, we're planning to get the diagnostic tests done anyway, despite the vet's recommendation. The vet could be wrong, and if she is he may be suffering needlessly. He wants to live, so we need to give him a chance to do so if it's at all possible. The vet was trying to save me money, but Stimpy is more important to me than all the money in the world.

Pepper was supposed to go for his post-op check-up yesterday, after his neutering surgery from a couple of weeks ago. I had to rebook it, though. The time came to get on the bus and I didn't have tickets or change. I couldn't very well take him into the store to get some, and didn't have time to run to the store by myself, so the upshot is that he's going this afternoon instead.

Poor little bug also had ear mites that were discovered while he was knocked out - the standard check-up didn't reveal any as they were too far in. So, he was treated for that, and a treatment was sent home for Stimpy as well. I'll be getting the second dose of that today. Stimpy was in for a couple of check-ups, and the vet didn't see any then either - I saw her looking for them. I check their ears every once in a while myself. They just aren't that obvious sometimes, and neither of them exhibited any of the usual symptoms.

I've spent far more on vet bills lately than I have on food and utility bills combined. Probably about double or triple, actually. It'll be nice when everything is taken care of and we actually have a bit of money left over to replace some of the things we've lost recently. Not just the stuff that was in storage at my ex's place (and the house has since been put under power of sale - I couldn't reach him in order to go get it), but also because of catastrophic equipment failure. I swear, everything electronic we have (except for the brand new TV we bought to replace the one that died) is broken down, and it happened all at the same time. So much to replace.

I did manage to update my website quite a bit, both yesterday and this morning, so it's looking a bit better, and has better functionality, including the option to subscribe. Not everything I write for that site will be classified as erotica, mind you, so be warned you might encounter anything from quick crime stories to science fiction. I constantly have weird ideas, which I'm sure won't surprise anyone, but they don't always revolve around sex, which might actually be a huge shock to some. Hence the warning to expect other things from my website. I wouldn't want to be responsible for any heart failure episodes.