Wednesday, October 9th2002 - Beware the Oatmeal Ahhh . . . Wednesdays are becoming lovely nights around here. Earning their nickname, they are, and it's just the thing to get you through the workweek. We've moved out of my Kirsten Dunst phase of Netflix DVDs and into the Drew Barrymore stretch. Both are attractive, decent actresses who happen to have made a bunch of bad movies, and that last bit is driving Tim nuts. We watched "Never Been Kissed" tonight and you should've heard him bitch and moan. Our neighbors probably thought I was torturing him. I can watch mindless movies fine when he's not around, but he really makes it hard to ignore the bad bits when he's watching them too. Not that you should think things aren't good with Tim. They're most excellent. He's very fun and goofy and generally makes me glad to be alive and with him. I've been going through the "Gods, I really have an awesome boyfriend" phase off and on lately. It's nice. Nicer, certainly, than the other phase where I feel like I'm so behind everyone else (this is mostly in the writing world) and I just want to be a cool kid, dammit. There have been a couple things lately that Tim's been invited to do that I haven't been, and I have to admit it stings a bit. Sigh. I try not to let these things bother me, but, dammit, I want to be published enough (and in enough good places) so that people naturally want to invite me to do readings and join their neo-pro groups, too. This revision for this magazine I very much want to be in is so close I can taste it, and I want it so, so badly. I have to say I don't agree with Mary Anne about it not mattering where you publish. People take you more seriously once you've got a pro market on your cover letter, dammit. Now, yeah, most of these pro markets aren't going to take the weirder stuff (which is a flaw in the market, IMO, not that much can be done about that), but it does earn that glimmer of respect in other's eyes. And, yes, my friends who have read my stories already know how I can write. Usually, that's enough for me, 'cause I have awesome, smart, talented friends and their opinion matters more to me, but right now I'm going through what we called in high school an Oatmeal phase (which was our neato word for insecure), and . . . . . . . and I'm whining and going on and using the word "phase" too much, aren't I? Ok. Yeah. Um, I'm stopping now, and I'm going to have something more to put in that writing log for next time, ok? Yes, good. Glad we had this little chat. Chat some more

Exercise Log: Spinning class on Monday. I love spinning. I wanted to scream and jump up and down and yell "I did it!" once it was over. Man. Spinning totally kicks my ass; my clothes were sopping wet with sweat after an hour of it. Awesome. Writing log: Er . . . have an interesting, half-formed story idea that I have notes on . . . Current Publications: The Children of the Moon in Strange Horizons. In the Shade of You nominated in the long poem category for the Rhysling and will be reprinted in the 2002 Rhysling Anthology! "How to Suck" reprinted in From Porn to Poetry: Clean Sheets Celebrates the Erotic Mind I've been reading: Currently Reading: Carpe Jugulum by Terry Pratchett

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