The Coolest Thing EVER

I've had a geekified sort of day today.

It started last night, actually, when I decided to play "let's fuck around with Yahoo Launchcast Radio". I have now built myself THE ULTIMATE radio station...unfortunately, it's under my real ID, so I am going to rebuild it as Gladys so I can share it with you. I have found ALL the music, every stitch of it, that's tied into my JP memories--obscure, insane, impossible shit which iTunes never even DREAMED of, and all our radio music as well.

My one complaint is that they have that "suggested" thing--just because I like A Perfect Circle, for example, it assumes that I will probably like Nickelback. When in fact, I would sooner remove important internal organs than listen to Nickelback. (It's a CR thing. His taste in old-school R&B was just impeccable, but when it came to rock, things got very peccable indeed.)

Then I started hunting through the Blogger help files and learned all sorts of new things...like how to make little individual bits of text be different colors, or how to make the first letter of each post be capital. Except I can't seem to make that one work--it'll make it a different color, but it won't resize. Whatev.

Some of you may have been here before:

elevenevele Today I learned how to blog a book, so here it is: my story, or as much of it as I've written down thus far. (Actually that's not true either--there's more, it's just on the upstairs computer, the one I haven't bothered to hook up to the network yet.) I have promised myself that I will have the whole thing written by October 30th of this year. And then I am going to have it published (under this name, not my real one) and that is that. Failure, in this case, is not an option. I am not made to work in an office--even an outrageously fucking cool one like the one I interviewed at yesterday. And I've always sorta known I didn't want to do tech support forever--it's like everything else I've done with my career so far, a compromise until I could do the things I really wanted. And a compromise of that order of magnitude was a lot easier to swallow when I was twenty-one than now, six weeks shy of thirty-five. A woman has her limits, after all.

When I was twelve I wanted to be a writer. When I was twenty-four I thought I was someday going to be a writer. By the time I'm thirty-six, I WILL be a writer. And hopefully, whatever comes next, it won't take me another twelve years to get off my ass about it.