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Kiwi Crocus
17 November 2011 @ 03:37 am
I am at 27,500 words.

For the first time in all of this month, I am caught up on NaNoWriMo. After the halfway mark!

Well, technically speaking I'm not since it's now the 17th, but it's really the evening of the 16th for me and if I want my time to be subjective it will be, damnit (Janet), because I'm a writer!

Plus, I need to write less than 1,000 to remain caught up 'tomorrow'. But hopefully I will write more and be ahead of schedule, so I can *shockalarmhorror* work on tidying my room *gasp*. November makes it quite the state.

Also, my favourite musician is playing a houseconcert in the town I practically live in and I RSVPed. So I get to meet her in an "intimate setting", which will be cool. Even though I have to cook something for the potluck *another gasp*. It's stardusty and small-world-y in an almost sad way, though, in that it's hosted by a family from my congregation; the mother of the family died in January and my mother went over there to help her husband (who now runs the houseconcert series alone) clear out her stuff. I think I'll get my mother to come along so she can experience the house in a happier atmosphere again.
 
 
Kiwi Crocus
17 November 2011 @ 02:34 pm
One reason to maybe not stay up until five in the morning:

You may wake up at one in the afternoon.

You may wake up to your romantic interest's phone call.

You may wake up and say what you think is, "Hello, may I ask who's calling please?" but is actually, "Lo my ass who cal ling pluz?"

(The phrase, even correctly spoken, may be a silly thing to say because most phones, these days, tell the recipient who is calling before it is even answered. But you just woke up and there are unicorns in your brain, so who knows what the ringy-thing on your desk really does?)

You may have to admit, on the phone, that you were writing until late and so slept until late, but it was eight hours of sleep and that's all you need. And that you are making your bed. And oh, by the way, how are you?

You may have to say, when your conversational dance partner announces that she is off to scrounge for lunch, that you are off to do the same--but for breakfast.

And then, finally, you may head straight to this strange land called Livejournal to type up a post (like, a fence post? oh, nevermind) and ultimately decide that it was all worth it to hear her ask, "Is this Kiwi?" and giggle herself senseless. ("I guess it's a wake-up call!")

Hello. My name is Kiwi Kiwanicus Crocus Street the Short, and this is my life.

(Awkward giraffe is awkward.)
 
 
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