Archive for 'this is how I spend my time'



What Stace had to say on Monday, June 16th, 2014
Hiding

I’m hiding from the internet today.

See, last night all you lucky people in the US got to watch the GAME OF THRONES finale. Whereas the hubs and I–and everyone else in England–have to wait until 9 pm tonight. A WHOLE DAY LATER IT IS KILLING ME BLAAAH.

*******SPOILERS! SPOILERS UP TO THE PENULTIMATE EP OF SEASON 4!! HIGHLIGHT TO SEE SPOILERS!*******

What happens to Tyrion? Will Arya find Sansa? Does that psychopathic bastard Ramsey move his sadistic ass into the ruins of Winterfell to rebuild it and, I dunno, have a place where he can grin his evil grin while he drinks blood and tortures infants and conducts medical experiments that would shock Josef Mengele? What’s Stannis going to do? What about Sir Jorah–I love Sir Jorah and I’m so sad, even though really he did ruin everything and it’s his fault I don’t get to look at Khal Drogo anymore.

Some of the anticipation is gone now that Joffrey is dead and all; I mean, I was thrilled to see him die but it felt sort of anticlimactic. Mainly because I suspect most of us–or, okay, maybe just me–would only have been happy if the show had done a one-hour “Joffrey dies the hideous death he deserves” special, in which we saw clips of all of his worst acts–okay, it’d need to be, like, a four-hour miniseries event–and the people he’d wronged each got to come up, call him names, and slap him, and then stab him somewhere painful but non-deadly, like the Death of a Thousand You’re-A-Hideous-Shitbird Cuts, until finally Sansa and the ghost of Ned Stark finish him off by ass-fucking him with Ned’s sword Ice. And also, I’m disappointed that we found out so quickly who killed Joffrey, because Hubs and I were having a lot of fun imagining it like a game of GOT Clue: was it Sansa in the Observatory with the Poison Wine? Tyrion in the Tower of the Hand with the Valyrian Sword? Cersei in the Red Keep with the Crazy Malevolent Mother-Obsession? Margaery in the Garden with some sort of Magical Ingestible Torture Device? It was fun, but sadly, we now know Emma Peele did it, along with Littlefinger, who is just as sinister as the Red Death when the clock strikes twelve.

Feel free to comment on any of the above, but for the love of all that’s holy please don’t spoil me for the finale!! Because seriously, I will be very upset and will probably put you in a book suffering some sort of very undignified and stupid death. “We have a new case, Chess…there’s a woman who reported a ghost but then we found her dead. Apparently she was masturbating with a carrot and it broke, so she sent a mouse up there to eat it, and it died so she sat on the toilet to try to douche with bleach to clean it out but it hurt, so she stood up and tripped and drowned with her head in the bleach-filled toilet and a dead bleach-soaked mouse and a half-eaten carrot inside her ladybusiness there. Her name was _____ ____, and everyone hated her guts because she couldn’t keep her spoiling mouth shut. So I say we don’t need to investigate her ghost, because she got what she deserved for being stupid and horrible and spoiling GAME OF THRONES.”

Um…sorry, guys, that got sort of needlessly graphic and horrible, huh.

Anyway. I know there are spoilers out there, and so I must hide.

Not because I’m afraid of, say, being randomly attacked by a spoiler as I mind my own business walking down the internet street. No, I’m reasonably certain that most spoilers–not all, of course–mark themselves clearly as such, as they are respectable spoilers and do not wish to be mistaken for hints, previews, or mere theories. They’re proud to be spoilers and want the world to know it. Yes, there’s always that moron or dickhead who enjoys spoiling things for others, or dismisses complaints with, “It was on LAST NIGHT, man, if you haven’t seen it by now, that’s your fault,” but in general I’m not too afraid that I’ll be accosted by a spoiler while innocently researching the death penalty in Victorian England or reading humorous anecdotes on notalwaysright.com.

I just don’t trust myself. Right now I’m practically sweating, because I know there are spoilers out there and that I could find them. Easily. Five minutes from now I could know everything that happens; it’s the digital equivalent of knowing exactly where your parents hide the Christmas presents.

But you know, one year I found those presents, and realized that it really did ruin the run-up to the actual holiday and the holiday itself. It just wasn’t as much fun knowing exactly what was coming. Same with spoilers. (Plus, the hubs hates it when I know what’s coming and he doesn’t.) At least, not when I actually care what happens. I no longer particularly care what happens on MAD MEN, frex–watching Don Draper have a meltdown and turn into an insignificant sadsack, living in roach-infested filth and failing at everything he attempts, is not really what I signed up for when I got on board the MAD MEN train however many years ago (and don’t even get me started on splitting the final season in two, seriously. Because that story moves so fast it needs to give us time to breathe? uh-huh).

I watch MAD MEN to watch Don be clever and drink and get laid a lot while being impossibly smooth in nice suits. I don’t care if the point of the whole show is how men like that are secretly miserable or how that image is a miserable facade just like America in the early 60s or how the majority of men lead lives of quiet desperation in their gray flannel suits. That’s not a show I want to watch. I want Don to be awesome, and Roger to be awesome, and Peggy to not turn into a shrew right out of the pages of a 1950s True Confessions magazine (“I had it all, but I cried every night because without a husband it’s all meaningless, which is why I became a barfly and lost all my teeth and then had a hissybabyfit in the office because my secretary got flowers”), and Stan to be hilarious, and Joan to appear in every scene being cutting and gorgeous. (I can’t complain about what they did with Pete in the S7 episodes I watched, because he’s pretty much how he’s always been, only with louder pants.) That is why I watch.

To replace MAD MEN, we started watching HANNIBAL. I said on Twitter that if you’re not watching HANNIBAL, you are missing the fuck out, and that is entirely 100% true. More than that, even. It’s more true than even the craziest stereotypical football coach would feel comfortable expressing in a percentage (“That truth is giving 469%–oh, dammit, now I just sound like a moron, don’t I.”) so s/he would just go back to shouting “WIN! WIN! WIN!” (Remember, we’re discussing stereotypes here. Please do not get angry at me if you know and love a football coach, or are personally a football coach.) Seriously, you guys, HANNIBAL is SO GOOD. SO FUCKING GOOD. I thought it wouldn’t be good–it sounded sort of dumb and pointless to me–but I was wrong. It’s amazing. It’s so good that after the first couple of episodes I completely stopped noticing that Hugh Dancy’s earlobes are kind of hobbit-like.

But of course, it’s on summer hiatus. As GAME OF THRONES will be after tonight, and I honestly do not know what we’re going to do here–at least, what we’re going to do until JUSTIFIED’s fifth season comes out on DVD and we scrape together some money to buy it and have it shipped to us. But that’ll last us, like, a week and a half if we’re lucky. (Because JUSTIFIED? Also AWESOME, and you should watch it so we can all talk about it and trade little references like, “It was in your glass,” and dissolve into happy drooling sighs over Raylan and Boyd.

And we have some episodes of THE BLACKLIST still to watch, which is also a very good show and we like it a lot, although let’s be honest, compared to GAME OF THRONES it might as well be The Teletubbies. We have a couple of seasons of THE SOPRANOS that we never finished watching (I know, I know) and–shocking as I’m sure this will be–we have never actually seen THE WIRE, although we’ve both really wanted to.

So there will be things for me to watch on warm evenings as I sit on the couch and apply lotion to every exposed bit of skin I possess. (I realized last night that I do this every summer. It’s like I’m anointing myself for some sort of ritual, or I’m about to be placed on a very hot grill. You guys know I’m never far from a bottle of lotion anyway, because I’m constantly washing my hands, but in summer it gets sort of weirdly obsessive and at any given moment I’m contorting myself oddly on the couch rubbing coconut oil into my elbows, or something. I also put it in my hair. I’m like some sort of grooming machine.) I will somehow manage to be entertained throughout the summer, aside from the time I spend working, which will be plenty.

But what I’m watching won’t be new episodes of GAME OF THRONES, which is the saddest thing…well, the saddest thing I’ve said in this paragraph, because the stuff about the lotion is pretty pitiful, really.

What Stace had to say on Wednesday, April 6th, 2011
SULKATHON 2011

So…I’m not going to RT. I’m staying here. And sulking about it.

Staying home seemed like a good idea at the time, really. RT is expensive, and LA is far and I’d have to fly and I hate doing that. I hate it a lot.

But I also do love LA, and my friends are there, so now I’m feeling like a big blah, and I want to be having fun with my pals too.

So last night on Twitter I came up with something all we shut-ins can do. SULKATHON 2011, where we prove we can have our own damn fun all by our damn selves.

How to participate? It’s easy. Just use the Sulkathon hashtag (which has been shortened to #SK11, which I happen to think works out pretty cool). Then do something on Twitter or on your blog or whatever, and post the link with the tag (or do a chat with the tag if you like).

I have a few authors agreeing to play along; they’re doing chats and giveaways. I plan to give away some books myself, too. I know my lovely friend Yasmine Galenorn is doing a giveaway on Friday, I believe.

I’m putting together a schedule now. This is a really, really loose thing; I don’t have the time, honestly, to set up a really full schedule, and besides, we need lots of time for sulking and bitching about our dull shut-in status.

So. If you are an author who wants to play, leave me a comment and let me know what you’d like to do. If you’re a reader/blogger and want to do a post on your blog about something book/reader/whatever related, let me know. I’ll keep updating this post with info.

Here’s what I have so far:

Today, 4/6: Sulking until 8 pm. At 8 pm or so (schedules are loose at Sulkathon, because really, who cares? It’s all worthless anyway) we’ll do some chatting on Twitter, perhaps, about why being at home drinking by ourselves and writing in our jammies is so much better than having fun with other human beings. I may also give away a signed book or something.

That’ll go on for an hour or so, at least with me there. I’ll come back around 11 for another hour of chatting and drinking cheap beer before I get to work for the night. And who knows, maybe I’ll do another giveaway.

Tomorrow, 4/7: Some readers have indicated they’d like to give themselves manicures/pedicures. If you’re one of them, set up a time in comments, if you like, and I’ll amend the post to reflect it. The rest of us may continue to sulk, with some whining about being left out thrown in for flavor.

Once again we’ll converge on Twitter for the evening; L.A. Whitt/Lauren Gallagher has promised to do a giveaway, so we’ll see if she’s up for doing it then.

Remember, you don’t have to do a chat, and you don’t *have* to be on Twitter. If you want to do a blog post or something–preferably a sulky one, but we shut-in losers aren’t picky–and have it included, just let me know.

Yasmine’s giveaway is on Friday, I believe, and BronwynK has a giveaway happening at her blog on that day, too. I’ll update as I have more info. Friday night also seems like perhaps a good night for the corset party, in which we all put on corsets and post pictures of them.

I’d love to do some panel-type chats, as well. Perhaps on the downsides of being a writer? That could fit the theme. Any ideas are welcome. Again, leave them in comments and I’ll update here as I can, and don’t be afraid to use the #SK11 hashtag (it’s been pointed out that if you look at it fast, that looks like SKULL. Also very cool).

So come sulk with us, this week until Sunday. Do a blog post, do a giveaway, start a chat topic, whatever you like, and let me know it’s happening, and I’ll post it here.

Let’s at least try to have some fun, huh?

UPDATES:

Michele Lee has posted some funny images on her site in honor of Sulkathon.

Erotic romance fantasy author Mima is giving away some backlist books on Twitter; check this post for details.

…I know there are more but I can’t find them.

What Stace had to say on Tuesday, March 29th, 2011
Fingernail Tuesday

(I had a typo in the title so it said “Fingernail Ruesday.” Which would have been quite fitting for last week, huh?)

So this week’s polish experiment is a bit odd. Well, it’s not really an experiment, but…anyway. Whatever.

After finally getting last week’s icky yellow off my nails, I decided to go with the color I’d originally planned for last week, because it’s pretty:

Sally Hansen Insta-Dry in “Jade Jump.”

I actually have this polish on my toenails at the moment, too.

It’s a nice color. And I love the new brushes Sally H is using; they’re wider and flatter, with a slight curve at the end, which makes it so, so much easier to paint neatly. I was talking to my lovely friend Fae Sutherland about this on Twitter a few weeks ago, in that “How the hell did nobody invent that brush before this?” kind of way, because seriously, it’s genius.

But for some reason I had a rough time applying it on Sunday night. It was…goopy. The polish itself, I mean. It didn’t want to go on very smoothly.

It was fine when I did my toes with it two weeks or so ago, so I’m really unsure as to why I’d suddenly have an issue. Maybe because of the humidity or something, although that doesn’t actually make any sense either. It’s not an old polish; Jade Jump is a new color, and I bought the bottle maybe a month ago, so it’s not like I grabbed a bottle that had been sitting in the back of a rack for three years. But still it was gloopy and not very smooth. The first time I’ve ever had a problem like that with polish.

It turned out okay:

And I still really do like the color. I certainly like it better than last week’s yellowy vomit-looking crap. And I still love the SH polishes. But…yeah, something went wonky with this one.

Years ago I remember my mom reading something that said nail polish wouldn’t go gloppy if you stored them in the fridge. Personally I always found fridge-stored polishes to be already gloppy from the cold, so thought it was kind of silly to deliberately glop them up in hopes that they’d stay only partially gloppy for longer. But then I’ve never had one do that on me before.

Apparently you can add a little polish remover and shake it up well to de-goop polishes; anyone ever tried that?

Next week I want to try doing some kind of cool effect or something again. Maybe the newsprint nails someone sent me in a Twitter link, or the black french manicure? Something interesting.

Ideas welcome, both on that and on the sticky gummy nail polish.