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Oh, BTW, I’ve done a couple of drafts

I remembered why I came here today. I’ve got a couple of sections completed as far as what might be called ‘first draft’ status.

The Soldier’s Story draft v1

How a Lover is Made draft v1

These make up the back stories of two of our Shabtis. The Soldier is Dave Jensson. The Lover is Gihon Plaisir.

The breaks in the text show where, for now at least, I want to drop the separate sections into the main story arc. I’m sure it all made sense when I first had the idea for this. I can see myself organising narrative by post-it-note before long. You know, for that satisfying sense of doing something when really all you are doing is making a mess and getting inky fingers.

I’m still struggling with Misha. Ah, the innocent boy has no idea what is in store for him. I do know what’s ahead but unfortunately I seem to have hit a wall as big as the border to Fortress Europe.

While I struggle with Mykhail Arkhangelskeyev’s journey from angel to emotional wreck Lia Jordan is getting closer to finding out what she is as the sprawl of the Gene Bomb arc is now about 64,000 words and she still doesn’t have a clue why her father took one of her ovaries.

Oh come on, I had to have a bad guy.


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Do I really need a 3D TV?

Obviously the answer is no. No one really needs a 3D TV (and associated new 3D blu-ray player, reorganising the living room, recabling the surround sound etc etc).

Obviously I have bought one (and all the associated other stuff above).

I now have a perfectly reasonable 37″ HD TV and blu-ray player gathering dust in a room waiting for the glorious day when our loft conversion is eventually finished. As everything is in working order there was no need at all to go out and spend/waste money on such an expensive and unnecessary item.

What does this show us?

It shows that I live in a house that is already too big as I have enough rooms that I don’t use to be able to ‘lose’ a TV, stand and blu-ray player without tripping over them.

It shows that we have still not finished the eternal loft conversion. Actually, I moved something yesterday so I could paint a door and I found that the newspaper I was using to rest my paint pot on was from 2006. One day, I promise, the house will be finished. You’ll be able to tell when it happens when all the Mayan end of the world prophecies start to kick in.

It shows that I have a husband who really doesn’t like the idea of saying “no”, he just trusts me that the credit cards are not going to implode.

It also shows – and this is the serious bit – my self esteem issues and my odd relationship with money.

Low self esteem? Surely not?

Hey, I sit here typing to myself and feel unable to ask people to give up their time to listen to me. You betcha I have self esteem issues.
But as you’re already here …

Shopping is a function of comfort, like eating and drinking. When I feel ok I don’t need to spend, I also drink less and can even be trusted with butter in the house. I’m old enough to know that no amount of wine, or chocolate or Anchor (binge butter of choice) that goes into my mouth will make me happy beyond the moment of consumption. Shopping, at least, has the advantage of being low fat, low calorie and sugar free.

I go into a shop, I make it clear I want to buy a high value item. For however brief a period I have someone’s attention. For the time it takes to check the goods, pay for them, argue about the extended warranty and decline whatever else they try to sell me I am vaguely important and my opinion matters. (Obviously I know it’s not ‘me’ that’s important but the credit card I invariably use to pay for things but this my fantasy so I’m going with it.)

I take shit all day at work. I know, it’s my job. I have hopeless managers and no structure and little respect from other teams whose aim often seems to be to screw things up for me and the users I look after.

I have an illness that often means I can’t do things when I want to do and I don’t trust that my body will always be able to do what I want it to do. My memory is often shot, I’m tired and I ache most of the time.

But I go into a shop and we all pretend that I actually have control and that I matter and (ready for this) I don’t have to invest anything emotionally in pleasing the shop assistant.

So. I know I didn’t need to go out and spend £700+ on something that is little more than a new gadget, but in the build up to doing so it felt imperative that I did.

In conclusion

I do have to say though, Tintin in 3D is just about one of the most magical things I have ever seen.