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SRS
I had a rather vivid dream of being sexually harassed at work, calling out the abuse loudly, and no one believing me. Even as my harasser sat five feet away from me, grabbing his crotch and making sexually explicit comments.

Of course, this has never happened at Blizzard, and the source of the dream is not my current employer, it's the SFWA Kerfuffle of the Month. SFWA! It sounds like a venereal disease when you say it out loud!

When I told my husband about my dream, he snorted and said, "Of course they didn't believe you. If someone ever did that to you, you'd kick their ass." And while I greatly appreciate my husband's admiration for my ass-kicking qualities, the fact is that I'm not sure I would. Like MRK notes, I have been trained toward a "ha ha" and "shrug it off" reaction to anything denigrating of my gender in my various industries. I've embraced the Liz Lemon/Tina Fey attitude of "Over! Under! Through!", and I don't know if it's right, but it's worked for me. It's the way my generation operates.

I want to emphasize again that nothing this horribly overt happens where I work now, but it did at a prior workplace, and I wish now that I'd been less of a wuss about it.

(But really, what can you do when your boss is negging on you because he thinks it's funny? He also liked to remind me that I should be grateful to have a job under his employ. There's a reason I don't work there anymore.)

Anyway: things are getting better, I believe that, and one of the way things do get better is that the assholes blithe enough to make this sort of galactically stupid observation stop getting work. When they have problems -- their game needs funding, they get laid off, they need someone to stop them from posting inane comments on popular SF/F BBSes -- no one is there to help them, and they dwindle and fade away. Alternately, they stop getting put in positions of authority where their backasswards opinions matter. Because women like me and men like Scalzi get promoted or voted in and we say hey guess what, that shit doesn't fly here. We raise our daughters to not put up with this line of happy bullshit, and our sons to not accept that they need to be unmitigated jerkwads to be "a man".

It's a slow process. But it works. And in the meantime, I'll keep pondering the over/under/through paradigm and whether it's worth keeping.

7 down, 20 to go

Circa 1771
I'm not setting my usual goal of 130 lbs.  In 20 years, I've never hit it.  The more reasonable goal of 150 is my new watermark, and if I get lower than that, I'll be happy, but not surprised if it doesn't happen.

The jogs continue.  The food restrictions slide about one meal a week, and it's usually sugar I give in to.  Sunday night it was pizza because I was tired and stressed and trashy pizza sounded sooo good.  But most of the time I'm good.

Today I'm down 7 pounds, and jogging about 10-15 minutes (not consecutive) out of 30.  Monday tried to sabotage me when my phone died (bad battery after 3 months; Apple replaced it, no questions asked) AND I got overbooked on meetings.  I made the effort, though, and got in 20 minutes on the treadmill.  Not ideal -- I really like getting outside and getting some fresh air -- but also better than nothing.

Next week I start taking the train again, and that's when commitment runs the risk of hitting the fan, I fear.  In order to make it to work early enough to get a jog in on my lunch hour, I'll probably need to get up at 5 AM or so.  Ugh.  I may need to consider doing weights + jog in a 30-40 minute window instead.  Dunno.  Would like to complete the 5k training before I go there.

And it'll probably be yet another brick in the wall that is weaning Zoe. We still have our evening nursings, but if I go into work at 6 AM she's still asleep.  She'll be 10 months in a week, and I know this would come someday anyway, but who knew I'd miss it so much?  I honestly didn't understand moms who mourned the passing of nursing time.  I get it now, though.  (And have said so multiple times elsewhere, so I'll stop saying so here.)

This morning I picked her up and blew a raspberry, and she blew one back.  Though she's been mirroring, this is the first time I've consistently had her do it back at me.  She also laughed every time Mike blew on her food this morning.  Cute, cute, cute. ♥

Migraines and End of Week One

Circa 1771
Week one down.  Things I want: pasta, wine, sugar in general.

Two migraines in 7 days.  I don't think it's the diet, or the jogging, but one never knows.  For all I know the diet is mitigating some of the effects; I had a hell of a migraine back in October/November, and I was eating whatever I wanted then.  More likely it's the sleep (or lack thereof) and stress.

Oh, and just as a TMI FYI: I haven't had a period since March of 2012.  Behold the magic of pregnancy-miscarriage-pregnancy-delivery-nursing.  (And if there was ever an argument in favor of extended breastfeeding, a period-free month is certainly it.)

Either way, doctor's visit scheduled. I need a GP anyway because of my thyroid, and the family in general needs someone to go to, so...off I go.

And on that note, there's a steak in the sous vide waiting for me to go rescue it.  When you're on a no sugar, grains, legumes, dairy, alcohol, or crappy industrial ingredients diet, eating out becomes immensely tedious because of the tendency for restaurants to rely on butter, weird additives, and sugar to make things taste good. Literally the only place I could go last time was the seafood restaurant (which had an amazing steamed seafood salad with an olive oil and vinegar dressing) and a little French bistro that gamely cooked all my food in olive oil.  Or at least they told me they did.  I DON'T WANT THE TRUTH IF THEY DIDN'T.

Off I go.

Eating and Chewing the Fat

Circa 1771
Day two into Chris Kresser's version of a Paleo reset (think Whole 30), and figured out my breakfast smoothie is hovering around 600 calories.  Right on.

Threw together a tom ka gai-style soup for lunch (coconut milk, bone broth, chopped cooked chicken, fresh ginger and coriander, fish sauce, lime juice, keffir leaf, and a dab of green curry paste) and will have the cafe fry me up a burger (sans bun) for dinner.

I'm eating fairly high fat right now, with protein and carbs hovering in the low-to-medium range.  Not consciously trying to do this; just following the suggested meals and going with that.  Feeling calm and well fed.  In fact, my tears taste like bacon!

Walked three miles yesterday.  My ankles are reminding me that I haven't done that in a while, you bitch.

Weighed in for the first time. I'm at 172 lb, which is about how much I weighed when I moved to California. The goal is to get me back to 150 so I can, y'know, get pregnant again and gain it all back.  :P  But seriously, I want to at least subtract the baby weight before I go and make another human being.  I have the motivation (the healthier I am, the easier the pregnancy will be, plus the healthier I am, the easier it is to get through life in general) and I just need to stick to it. I've cautioned my family that I'm not to be dissuaded by pizza parties or "just a taste" pleas, and we've all gone through this often enough that hopefully they will heed my dire warnings.

So yeah. I love the first few days of a new routine.  Everything feels like it's firing on all cylinders.  I wish I could figure out how to maintain that momentum. Or maybe I should just observe what disrupts it.

I have a story due in June, but meanwhile I'm kicking around cans in my head for a longer form something.  Talking about an idea is death to me, so I'll leave it at that. Daughterbot is acquiring more and more autonomy, which makes the prospect of writing something more and more likely. Now that the move is over and I feel like I'm getting the hang of the rhythm of home-work-home, the writing is returning. Who knows how having a second child will disrupt this, but I don't have to worry about that until 2015/2016. (No, I'm not pregnant.)

My sister in law passed away last week.  She'd been diagnosed with ALS shortly before/after the birth of my niece, and to say this story is one big heartbreak is putting it lightly.  There are some unintentional parallels to her and my brother's story in my Lelia/Wil stuff, and it was unnerving and weird to notice on a re-read.  The stories in this case were written before the reality unfolded.  I think sometimes my brain must pick up on a whole lot I don't notice, and regurgitate it into fiction.  The other option is that I'm the worst psychic ever, but that's clearly bullshit...OR IS IT?

No, it totally is.

Anyway, going to write on lunch since this is a downtime day. And probably post my braindumps here more often. Ta.  

Regarding the Latest SFWA Controversy

Circa 1771
Oh, [AUTHOR NAME] at the heart of a sexism controversy?

I am shocked.

Shocked I say.

Done: NaNoWriMo 2012

Circa 1771
And by "done" I mean I hit 50k words, but I have another 25k to go before I know where the story is ending up.

Observations:
  • Not having an outline definitely slowed me down.  With an outline, I can write about 3000 words on a work night.  WIthout an outline, I am constantly making decisions and feeling out the character, which led to about 1600 words and then I felt like being done.  Weekends I would catch up -- I could easily write about 3000 on an uninterrupted non-work day.  But I could write 5000 when I had an outline.  
  • Catch-up days had to be broken into two: a morning session and an evening session.  Usually I'd stop when I hit a major decision point, but the break didn't really help me figure out where to go next.  I'd almost always come back wondering where this was going.
  • When in doubt, throw weasels down the character's pants. And by weasels, I mean zombies.
  • No, really.
  • Lots of people asked, so here're my thoughts on Scrivener after an extended 30-day relationship with it: I still love it.  It's barebones, it's kind on the eyes, and it keeps things organized.  I don't know that I'd recommend it to anyone who is used to Word's bells and whistles.  I grew up on very old, very non-fussy word processors though, and Scrivener is like that, but with a few extra tweaks that make it worth it to me.
  • In point of fact, you CAN write a novel when 5 months pregnant, though it might change your main character's relationship to her mother.  Could I have done this with a child outside Chez Uterus?  Well, I guess I'm going to find that out someday, aren't I?

Good exercise, am going to finish the novel in December, will post when that happens.  Ta.

bond and writing

SRS
A bit conflicted on the new Bond movie. Undeniably, on many technical levels, a good movie. But was it a good Bond movie? I don't know. Also, some weird sexism running through the storyline that was just...off. I know, I know, IT'S A BOND MOVIE, DUH, and I get that Bond is supposed to be charming and manly and rarrr (men want to be him! women want to do him!), but I feel like this was a step back somehow.

I shan't say more, lest I spoil it, but if you do see it compare the shower scene in this movie to the one in Casino Royale and tell me there isn't something just inherently wrong and creepy about the whole thing.  Or maybe my sensitive side is showing.

And on that note, I failed to catch up on my word count, but hope to restore it over the week. The other half is off in another part of the state for two days mid-week, so I'm looking to spend that time without him writing.  What else am I going to do?

on writing

Circa 1771
A long distance family emergency interrupted my writing last night, and the election disrupted it Tuesday.  Try as I might to ignore the results, I ultimately kept refreshing pages.  Botheration.

Will hopefully catch up tomorrow.  We shall see.  I have a 3000 word deficit, so if I write around 5000, I should be fine.

It's been an interesting experiment and I am enjoying coming home to write something or using every drop of my 30 minute lunch break to write.  Even if it's utter crap.  

just sayin'

WoW - Rowan
I am glad that profanity during public announcements at large team get-togethers is not a firing offense here, because otherwise I would have been fired around three times today.

In other news, I love my company.
Circa 1771
Writers, please stop referring to any combat (martial arts, duels, what have you) as "dancing".  

Combat is unpredictable, unrehearsed, and inexplicably influenced by everything from experience, to weaponry, to landscape, to a chance breeze or a flash of armor.  I don't care how well matched your opponents are, or how good they are, or what ninja brotherhood trained them.  If your fight is "like a dance", then it's BORING.  Because clearly the opponents are so evenly matched they're just going through the motions and not actually into the vital struggle for their lives/honor/glory.  

There is one time when it is acceptable to describe a martial act as "like a dance": when someone is practicing sword forms, taigi, kata, or the like.  These are essentially choreography.  But the moment you throw in someone else -- even if they know the exact same "choregraphy" -- that all goes to hell.  And even in the case of something that requires a partner like taigi, no one is ever the same as the next.  Steps get misplaced.  Timing gets nailed or missed.  Hands slip.  Armor flashes.

In summary: describing any fight as a "dancing" is lazy writing.  It makes me want to hunt you down and DANCE WITH YOU.

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