blargle.

I started fighting this cold sometime Saturday morning. Now, at 1:10 Thursday morning, I think it's safe to officially declare that the cold has won.

Coughing so much it's keeping me up. Blown my nose so much it's started bleeding. Head throbbing worse than usual. No antihistamines in the house, Linda, and no Nyquil either--it may not help a cold, but it knocks me out, which I'd consider a win right about now.

A couple hours ago I told the Future of Comics (II) John Keane that I wished this irritating malady would either blossom into a full-blown sickness or go away, and this is what I get for it.

I wish someone would give me enough money so I could go to the New York Comic Con in February (ideally, but not necessarily, in exchange for something I wrote).

OK, it's a long shot, but who knows. It seems like I got my wish once today, why not see if I can get a streak going on something that doesn't involve me being miserable?

Oh wait--going to conventions does make me miserable.

Never mind.

A

The $11 House

I love this idea. Given the current number of entrants, I can't see the people putting it on getting the number of people they want to actually go through with the contest, but I'd love it if they did.

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Don't talk to ME about the evils of socialism II/Quotes of the day

The CEOs of the Big Three North American automakers take the lead in the race to be the first with their backs against the wall when the revolution comes.

Also, they need much, much, much better PR people:

'"Making a big to-do about this when issues vital to the jobs of millions of Americans are being discussed in Washington is diverting attention away from a critical debate that will determine the future health of the auto industry and the American economy." GM spokesman Tom Wilkinson, who clearly doesn't understand the role the public's perception of his douchebag CEO is going to play in that debate.

"That's it man, game over man, game over! What the fuck are we gonna do now?" Bill Paxton in ALIENS.

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Westboro Baptist Church Fundraising Effort for the Oregon Queer Community

While the ideal method for dealing with demonstrations by the idiots of the Westboro Baptist Church would involve baseball bats, I've got to admit this is a pretty cool way to turn their hatemongering back on them.

Via

rae_is

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I am a machine.

An aging machine that's going to break down soon, but a machine nonetheless. Cold medication might slow me down, but nothing short of finishing the job can stop me when I've got deadlines. I AM UNSTOPPABLE.

And now some Nyquil is in order, I think.

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When it rains...

While there's never a good time for having a cold, this is a really, ASTONISHINGLY #*%&ING BAD weekend for me to have a cold.

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What a morning/quotes of the day

"...the proposal itself just doesn't seem to be working. No matter the great new material Andrew has provided, and no matter how I've rearranged and experimented with cutting and restructuring... it's still too confusing and almost top-heavy." The New York Editor (I), explaining why she's passing on the YA novel (at least till I write a few more chapters.)

"The operative word is 'fantastic.'" Emmy-Winning Producer, giving me the operative word regarding a movie treatment I wrote. Revised outline this weekend (because "fantastic" doesn't preclude there being notes), then into the script. And then, somewhere in the future, step 3: Profit. Speaking of which...

"This time last year, I told myself if I didn't get someone offering me something in the way of a paycheque for writing by the end of the year I was going to give up on it altogether once and for all. However, I lie to myself ALL THE TIME." Me, feeling sorry for myself because New York Editor passed on my YA novel of which I've written only two chapters and a confusing, top-heavy outline.

"Well, I'm out guys. If this is what's cool now, I think I'm done. I no longer have any connection to this world. I'm gonna go home and kill myself." South Park's Eric Cartman, responding to the High School Musical phenomenon.