Yesterday I had the day off. That made three days in a row.

Total for the three days, I wrote 37 words on my story. Hooray!

Not.

I spent most of my day off yesterday immersed in an OaT marathon. I started at the beginning and plowed my way through episode after episode. I learned two important things during the course of this marathon.

#1 The show is very slashy.

#2 I have no idea how I managed to pin down the characters enough to write them in the past. (I know, I keep saying this. But I'm amazed anew each time I go back to the source material and realize how inadequate it is.)

The more I watch, the more it's forced upon my attention that of all the things the people making the show cared about, the actual characters were what they cared least about.

The villains, the minor characters passing across the stage briefly, even some secondary "recurring" characters reveal interesting flashes of layered personalities. As the show goes on, the "main" characters become less and less interesting in terms of "development." They're...just something to hang some exposition and a plot resolution on.

Drives me bonkers.

I mean, I can write the story, in terms of writing down the this is what happens and then this happens next sense, but the people doing these things are just...no one in particular. They're not actually Victor and Mac.

I'm torn between just writing down the this is what happens stuff and going back to fix it all later and the lurking knowledge that never in my life have I "fixed" anything but a few typos after completing a first draft.

I even performed the Ultimate Rite of Desperation. I actually went back and read the previous (longer) OaT story I posted. I've never sunk to that level before. I mean, how dumb is it to go back to your own stuff in preference to the source material?

Didn't do much good, in any case. The story didn't suck as much as I'd feared, but I can tell that those two guys are Mac and Victor in a way the guys in my current story just aren't. I suspect this is what I get for having tried to force all of that "real writing" structure and content junk on myself.

A complete re-write is the only solution, but I'm trying to avoid thinking about that. It's a long time until next weekend, which is the next chance I'll have to do any writing.

So.

Another beautiful Colorado day sucked down into the black hole of the SEN. I didn't get any reading done. Didn't get anyone's blog/journal read. Didn't get much housecleaning done. Didn't go for a walk, make it to the grocery store, or get any of those boxes taken to the storage unit.

On the other hand, I feel cute today.

That's mostly because I went underwear shopping on Saturday and today I'm wearing cute new lingerie. Not that it's any of yer beezwax what I have on under my clothes, but still. I have new leopardskin-pattern lingerie and you don't. Nyah.

After a massive struggle between my mouth and my diet, I've managed to get back down to the weight I originally achieved two weeks ago. I really do need to stop rewarding myself for doing well on my diet with something besides food.

For instance, today I rewarded myself for a good weigh-in with Japanese food for lunch. Granted, we're talking mostly chicken and brown rice, but it's still not the 2 oz of grilled chicken and half a cup of vegetables I should be lunching on.

There are things those of you who live at or near sea level never have to think about. Pressure differentials, for instance. When you live in the Mile High City, you have to pay attention to pressure differentials. If you grab a little plastic packet of soy sauce to put on your Japanese take-out, it's vital to remember it was packed at a higher pressure. You open it with great care, lest the under-pressure contents wind up sprayed across your monitor instead of your rice.

That wasn't interesting, but it did help to pad out this entry.

(Later note: I didn't eat it all, though. A gal with brand-new leopardskin lingerie on is conscious of her butt.)

(Also, a gal stewing furiously over the iniquity of television writers and producers who introduce great concepts then waste them on crappy execution is aware of the knots in her stomach.)