seanan_mcguire: (midnight)
Today is the last day of November, which means we're one month away from running out of 2009 entirely. I'm really not sure how I feel about this. I mean, on the one hand, it's nice to be past some of the more chaotic and horrible parts of the year. On the other hand, it feels a lot like I blinked and the year was over, which is never a particularly pleasant experience.

December is already slated to be a busy, busy month, with two events (one in San Francisco, one in Seattle), one trip out of state (again, Seattle), Alice's birthday, and a fairly hefty word count goal on Blackout. Just to add more hoot to my nanny, I'm also going to have a go at restarting my aerobic workouts, since I really miss Richard Simmons (he's the freaky little glittery monkey man of my heart, yo). On the plus side, endorphins make you happy, and happy authors just don't kill their editors.

I'll put up the voting for the best pics-with-pets entries into the A Local Habitation ARC contest later today. There were some really amazing entries, and I'm crazy-glad not to be choosing the winner by myself. I think my head might actually explode if I tried. (Not a pretty sight.) Voting will remain open through Sunday, December 6th, at which point I'll announce the winners and solicit mailing addresses. The usual "if I don't get an address in twenty-four hours, I will move on to the next possible winner" applies, so if you're an entrant, please be sure to either check back here or have someone check for you on Monday, December 7th.

2010 is starting to fill up fast—because there's a real surprise—and I think I may be approaching the official "no more conventions this year, so sorry" point. I now have three during the month of July (the most wonderful time of the year), and that strikes me as a sign that it may be time to take a nap instead. I'll post my full schedule here and on the website shortly.

Hope you all had a fantastic weekend, and that your cats were less clingy and shedtastic than mine.
seanan_mcguire: (knives)
So I keep meaning to say deep and meaningful things ("I got carnivorous plants for Valentine's Day!" "No, really -- one of my sundews is eating moths already, like a wee sticky Audrey II."), or at least report on the progress that I've been making on The Mourning Edition ("Epileptic miniature bulldogs are the pet everyone's going to be screaming for this season."), but all I really seem to manage is vague grumbling noises, accompanied by the distracted waving of hands. I am wiped out.

Why am I wiped out? Well, let's see. Today, I...

* Carted THREE BOXES OF TRASH out of my house, which entailed, of course, initially generating three boxes of trash. Admittedly, it was made easier by the presence of several water-damaged shipping boxes (one of which originally contained the aforementioned carnivorous plants), since I didn't have to scrounge to generate box-shaped piles of trash, but still.

* Went shopping with Kate, who managed to convince me -- through cunning application of the Weather Channel, which insists that it gets cold on the East Coast -- that I needed some wool trousers. So we went to the mall. For wool trousers. To wear in New York, in March. Well, I have wool trousers now. Also green corduroys, a very nice 'statement piece' blouse, two new bras, and a double-breasted kelly-green coat. Behold, for now I wear the human pants. I hate shopping so hard.

* Did my Richard Simmons workout tape for the first time in months and months. Look: I'm one of those people who starts every day with an energy bar that has somehow been turned up to two hundred percent of safe storage. If I don't walk a mile before breakfast, I get twitchy. For a long time, I was controlling my natural desire to fidget with DDR and Richard Simmons. Only it turns out that I have three severely herniated disks in my lower back, and they're not so hot on all that high-impact stuff. So anyway, after a lot of healing time, a lot of pills, an MRI, and some PT, I'm finally trying to get back into a certain amount of actual exercise. It makes me paradoxically less tired. Only not today, since today, my body is very confused, and hence yelling at me.

So on that seriously more-productive-than-it-looks note, I'm going to close this down and take myself to bed, to sleep the sleep of the good, the just, and the just plain tuckered. I'll be interesting again tomorrow, I promise.

January 2024

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