(no subject)
Jan. 16th, 2004 02:03 pmI'm in one of those grumpy, dissatisfied moods that has no apparent cause. There's nothing wrong, just nothing right. I'm wanting something intangible and nonspecific. And I suspect that most anything that offers won't measure up just because I'm feeling bitchy. I'll find all the things wrong with it and point them out to myself, and then I'll sulk.
I refer to this as a "rock kicking mood." It's the sort of thing where you kick at a pebble as you walk along and then kick at it again because you can't think of anything better to do and because you have to do something. It's not a game; that's a different type of rock kicking. This is a mechanism for relieving just a little bit of stress.
I don't go in much for physical rock kicking. Instead, I write rambling essays like this that may, perhaps, say things I didn't expect or intend. I role play. I play solitaire. I have passionate discussions about things that really don't matter. I bake cookies. But those are all distractions more than anything. They simply occupy me until the basic problem passes.
Right now, Delia's napping. Once she wakes, I'll be distracted again for a while.
In positive news, I'm an aunt again. My sister-in-law, the one in California (I think one or two people reading this know her), had a daughter last night. It required an emergency c-section, but the last I heard, everybody's doing well.
I refer to this as a "rock kicking mood." It's the sort of thing where you kick at a pebble as you walk along and then kick at it again because you can't think of anything better to do and because you have to do something. It's not a game; that's a different type of rock kicking. This is a mechanism for relieving just a little bit of stress.
I don't go in much for physical rock kicking. Instead, I write rambling essays like this that may, perhaps, say things I didn't expect or intend. I role play. I play solitaire. I have passionate discussions about things that really don't matter. I bake cookies. But those are all distractions more than anything. They simply occupy me until the basic problem passes.
Right now, Delia's napping. Once she wakes, I'll be distracted again for a while.
In positive news, I'm an aunt again. My sister-in-law, the one in California (I think one or two people reading this know her), had a daughter last night. It required an emergency c-section, but the last I heard, everybody's doing well.
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Date: 2004-01-16 11:39 am (UTC)Second, I know that feeling, although I haven't gotten it in a while. Changing... something usually helps me with that. Location. Room arrangement. Music.
Or just loading up Diablo and hackhackhacking. That last might be the most feasible thing for you to do until Delia wakes. Replace with appropriate game, of course.
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Date: 2004-01-16 12:22 pm (UTC)Changing something sounds like a good idea, though. After I'm out of the mood, I'll make a list of ideas for next time. Right now, I'll just poke holes in any notions I come up with and make myself grumpier.
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Date: 2004-01-16 12:01 pm (UTC)We need Nerf rocks to kick.
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Date: 2004-01-16 12:25 pm (UTC)Well, Delia's up now, and I have to work on being a good mama...
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Date: 2004-01-16 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 01:43 pm (UTC)Grads on the aunthood! I don't know mom or baby but 'grads to them too (Their first kid? Did you mention that? My poor smooth brain can't remember)
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Date: 2004-01-17 11:45 am (UTC)I think that part of my frustration is that I still haven't adapted to motherhood-- My bad mood coping strategies don't accommodate Delia very well, so I'm looking for new ones.
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Date: 2004-01-16 03:46 pm (UTC)And oh my god....incredible. This is some of the best non-con I've ever read, some of the best characterization of Yohji, and overall, just some of the best fiction. The psychological explorations blow me away - they are definitely what makes this story amazing. I'm only through part 4 so far, but I'm astounded at what a powerful story you've written.
These lines — "When the light came back and he could see again, think again, he began to cry quietly. Balinese wouldn't cry. He turned his head to one side, hoping to hide his tears from Nagi. I am not Balinese. — were so simple yet so potent that they brought tears to my eyes.
Kudos on such a great story, and I can't wait to read more.
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Date: 2004-01-17 12:42 pm (UTC)I hope you like the rest of what's posted so far. I think I'm past the halfway point. At least, I hope so.
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Date: 2004-01-17 06:31 am (UTC)And hope the mood settles.
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Date: 2004-01-17 11:08 am (UTC)*snarls at the world in general*
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Date: 2004-01-17 11:47 am (UTC)