Nanowrimo

Yes, bitches; I won. You can send congratulation money to me, I'll accept it. I'm not above charity. And yes; my dinner consisted of a grilled sandwich while my friends all have some social kind of network going on. Very sad. Very sad for me.

I'm gonna no now...you know, go and be sad somewhere else.

And by the way, I have just figured out one thing; I might be screwed up (I really am), but some people are more screwed up then me. And I'm not talking about Peaches here...

Camilla signing out.

Starry nights & lattes

Hey guys

Peaches here... Been thinking a little about this whole structure thing of writing. Nanowrimo is in full swing, causing random bursts of word-craze here and there, which I've gotta say is both inspiring and daunting. Makes you think of all those half/un-finished pieces taking up space on the hard-drive. Not to mention the paper trails under the desk...

I've been thinking about development techniques. The hardest part about coming to the ending, for me, is getting a proper grip on the whole story-line. I'm a little bit of a damaged perfectionist, I have to understand the meaning behind every word, every action, my characters take. I want to know their issues, their inhibitions, what drives and what breaks them. So I figured, why not analyse it. You have a story in your head, but you are not completely certain of how it is going to play out, or if your answers are the right ones, or complex enough to reflect this 'reality'.

So, with a latte (extra whip! Extra I tell you! if you can't get chocolate sprinkles on it...) at my side, and country music-meets Kanye something-or-other playing on the cafe` radio, I started doing a report. Remember English class in school, when you had to read all those ancient novels and figure out the deeper meaning and reflect on them? Well, turns out there might have been a point to it. Cause I've got less than two pages of notes, but I think I've cracked the arch of the story.

So tip of the day, take a step back from the actual agonizing process of trying to write all the pussle pieces together, and just consider the work as it lays in your head. As a reader, as the audience member, what speaks to you? What problems and solutions are reflected in the storyline? What paralells can be drawn? What questionmarks are answered, and why are some left behind?

Now, I've gotta go back to Lorelie (yes, my computer has a name, no mocking required), and fight out some more word wars with Camilla... She's beating me senseless in nanowrimo bthw, awesome awesome lady!

*throws chocolate *

/Peaches

Real

So, sleep deprived and with that odd pit-fall feeling in my stomach, the one you get when you are so far past exhausted it just gets riddiculous. Like, you know, falling asleep at the train station. In. You know. Major hectic cities.

...Aaanyways...

Just wanted to put this out there tonight, before the stroke of midnight turns us into another day of hope and misery.

Hope dangles on a string

Etched to these walls

it lingers amidst sin and pain and

love

.

far away your voice is an echo

of the past, the future a distant page untouched

.

Hope looks ahead

silver chains shattering like frozen rain

.

whatever comes beyond this moment will be

.

but hope dangles on a string

so thin it becomes us

thick enough to endure

.

Somedays you want nothing more than the clock to pause and halt the un pending changes that await us around the corner. Life strolls along, smiling at the good and the bad and inevitably we do to...

Didn't mean to get philosophical. Exhausted, drained, shattered, remember? Plus chocolate... I'll just, be over there *points * in the bed.

cheesecake

Peaches

Cookie!

Camilla again.

I just cheated my way through The Great Gatsby and have now finally gotten home, eaten two eggs and shall soon start on my second cookie.
When I left home his morning I have a blackout. Seriously.
It's like my body is telling me that I need sleep or something.

...seriously.

And the damn person in charge of the economics of the church where our painting group assemble every Tuesday is evil and insits on using big words which go right over my head. I don't dig that.

And Peaches, doll; If you get home without telling me so, of course my first thought is that something like that has happened. Do you not know me?

'Breaking news'

Peaches here mateys...

So I came home from work this evening, and found this little note from Camilla sitting in my inbox:

Girl dies in horrible boating accident
Peaches, or von Wuttenberger as she was called by her close ones,
were this evening found crushed by a boat in the middle of London.
Sources say she was still at work in the desolate area in the South of
England at 7pm this evening, but then her actions are unaccounted
for. How she got there is a mystery for the police. Her parents and
friends say she was a gentle, thought highly sexually frustrated girl.

I think that did all the work in the gym section, I mean five minutes of rolling on the floor laughing must count for some calories/muscle builders right?

Maybe it is just more of an inside thing. Maybe normal people just do not appreciate our insanity the same way we do. Or perhaps we’re just too far out of the circle of social normality to realize we’ve gone coko for coco puffs.

Speaking of which, most embarrassing moment of the last six months-award was just topped.
When your boss actually walks in and asks about those handcuffs... you know you’re in trouble. Especially if said fluffy hand cuffs are currently hidden under your desk, while their existence is slowly becoming a rather epic horror/comic story. I presume there will be more digs about them to come, but frankly I can only blush so much and am now done with it! Damn you Camilla, how I love your wacky ways!!!

Now, about that sexual frustration?

Peaches

P.S. I will still bring the key ( I presume they will be lent out at some point), and the bottle still holds until then... sorry love, it’s too good a story to pass up on. & what Cam said in the last post, if anyone wants to shed some light on... eh? the thoughts behind thinspiration?!!?

...I...I don't get it.

So I was researching (googling) pregnancy for my nanowrimo text. I mean, she just had sex, but I've got to be prepared. Needed to know how pregnant women looked in the early stages, like, during their first and second month. Then I read about some women not even realizing that they're pregnant until they're about to give birth and by that I recalled an episode from the Ricky Lake show which I saw...well it has got to be at least 10 years ago now. It was about teenage pregnancies and I know there was this girl who was really skinny and had managed to gain only 2½ kg during hers (if this is even possible).

Never mind...

Well, it ended with me googling 'anorectic' and I managed to find this:
http://nya.bloggis.se/holly/70429

WTF? Thinspiration?!

//Camilla
(Could someone maybe shine some light on this? Explain it so that I might be able to understand how these people think? Is that even possible?)

P nods head...and screams

So got back to work this morning... After a few days off after making long to-do lists for the guys. Piles were still there. Hair on head remains. Mostly because the day was survived by thoughts of keyboards (how sad is that?), hand cuffs in the mail, and that idea of Steven Spielberg being rejected from USC.

Because, really, that makes anybody feel just a little bit better.

And about the ignorance, yes Camilla. it. is. too. late.

On the other hand, think about how much fun it is to actually know these things, i.e. you can actually realize some fraction of all the reasons out there to panic and grow overly depressed, addicted to chocolate, and kill printers?

Oh and another thing... For info on how to... save... some of the printers in the world from assistant rage black outs, check out 'Hollywood assistant's handbook, 86 rulesfor aspiring power players' by Hillary Stamm and Peter Nowalk. It's hilarious, sarcastic, packed with great feel good and hysteric material, and lists... Because who can resist lists? It also confirms Tarantino's thoughts of 'Blockbuster is my university.' Amen darling, amen...

kisses and such

Peaches ;)

Thoughts from miss C

You know what? I'm starting to think that maybe ignorance IS bliss.

Just think about it; Not having to think about other people, not having anything to worry about and absolutely not thinking about ones own feelings.
Just living the life of just another stupid blonde.
Living each day in a routine and trying to fit in to society as a model citizen.

...ehm, I would probably crack after a couple of hours. There's just too much me going around here...

It's too late for me to try and acquire this ignorance. It...is...just...too...late...

Ey! And gooeyness

Okay, Peaches here...

And first of all let me clarify one... two... a couple of things. One, Camilla is an amazing friend. She tells you those little things you need to hear like "dude, get the f@ck out and get milk cause you need to get laid." And of course knows how to mind-game you into doing exactly that regardless of your excellent reasonings not to... because, really, think about this. Computer and ice cream for a night in vs. gooey eyed boy in the grocery store...

Yes. He has gooey eyes. I hate the damned gooey things. I hate the girly little thingy whispering in the... my... ehrm... head. It's annoying, and he's just a pretty little puppy thing and then I will visciously dump him and carry on being the "wound up bitch" (quote per 40yr old whom I did not allow to buy me Whiskey). I can add "with serious committment issues" to that. But nevermind.

I went. I saw. I made very snarky and fairly cool (i.e. he might not have noticed the riddiculous creeping blush and the way I stared at his lips) comments, got my milk, and left. See, goal achieved. Not, to throw some things back. 1. I am so not falling into the little compartment of girlieness which includes but is not limited to constant swooning, making 'awh' noises (I will stop it soon enough), or pouting while wearing too much make up in the hopes he'll unbotton his shirt for the world...

... mmm..

Oh, no right... No. Not happening. Just a tinsy bit of sexual frustration here, nothing more. Now, abt miss Camilla here... Bastard's been creative and productive and is coming close to going way way past the 50,000 word count mark this month. Remember those annoying ppl who got things done and could put 'The end' signs on things I yapped about earlier? *points * There, there's one of them... Love her though, and am counting the days til I can see her (and secretly steal her hard drive).

Is it wierd that I really want peaches now?

PS. US guys or citizens or anybody eligible to vote, get out and vote dammit! For any of the candidates, or Don Rosa, or even Paris... Just vote! It's democracy for you... :)

Peaches' sucks

Yes. Yes she does. And I'm totally playing the role of the best friend here, pushing her to go get that damn milk. Have you ever heard of such an observed thing such as Peaches, MY Peaches, being scared of such a small thing as a flirt in a food-store?

Obviously the boy (yes it's a boy) with the beautiful eyes has got it in for her. But she's talking about rushing things. Ah, sweetie, that's not the way things goes.

As I said to her over the phone not two minutes ago; Hun, you need to get laid.

Okay, maybe not physically, but rather mentally. Yeah, you need a mental fuck, whatever that might be.

Now I must apologise for my crude language, but a girl (yes I'm a girl) can only take so much.

Camilla out.