- Most of what I've written in the past 18 months is absolute SHITE. I apparently forgot how to end a poem.
- My website needs to be completely redone (and, yes, part of me is considering WordPress to do it, after swearing up and down that I wouldn't).
- If I do it all myself, it will cost me $120 in materials to produce my own EP, burn it, label it, encase it, and distribute it. God only knows what kind of time commitment we're talking about here. One poem at a time.
- If I tuck my hair up into Doc's straw cowboy hat, I can run out into a downpour, twice, to cover the right thing with the rubber mat so it doesn't get damaged, without my hair getting wet and curly.
- Bagira is terrified of thunder, it makes him run in circles.
- The webcam issues I was having last night weren't entirely my fault, or maybe they were. I put in a helpdesk ticket with Warped, we'll see what they come up with. I tried three programs, none could upload a cam image to the server. I don't know if I'm using the wrong information in all three, or what. I'm sure it's something simple.
- For my birthday tomorrow, I got my period today, thanks a bunch, Mother Nature. I won't forget this. I'd better get cake.
- I think I'm going to take most of the content off of my main website and put it under password protection as rewards for my Patreon patrons. Including the webcam, which I intend to start arting on at set times.
Okay, I still have not set up a page for CR. The hardest part is done. Reading an entire folder of really bad poetry written by me for the pleasure and judgment of other people. Most of it written for contests for that stupid poetry site I was so into. Most of the contests I won, or at least placed. So, someone liked it. I sure as hell don't. I did find a couple of gems, though, so it wasn't a total loss. I'll harvest a few older ones that haven't had any play yet and include them in the list for CR. Nothing goes to waste, anymore. Everything gets used! Except the shite. That gets hidden away on a thumb drive to be found after my death and never proven to have been authored by me. That's how bad it is.
Rain and wind and thunder like mortar fire. A proper storm. We deserved it. It's been so long. I got everyone in, except Felix, who showed up as the storm was ending (its 1st phase?), soaking wet and hungry, huddled by the sliding glass door. He's now full of belly and sleeping in the cabinet in the kitchen. We thought we'd have to give up one cabinet to him and one to Simon and one to Vader, but Felix was the only cabinet hold-out. The other two decided on other places to sleep. Felix opened and emptied out a box of sandwich bags, then spread them around to make a comfy bed for himself. we just kind of let it go. It keeps him from peeing on things.
The hours of Windows updates didn't seem to change anything. I have to shut a couple of things off or they eat up my resources. But nothing else has changed. So there's three wasted hours. I'm glad I worked through it, instead of just sitting and letting it go.
Simon is rolling around on my drop cloth. Each of the cats has come over and sat down on the blank canvas board. I don't know why. Chewy licked one of the water color paints, and now his tongue is black. He didn't seem to like the taste. Major tried to eat one of the paint brushes, so I chased him around the house with it. Last night as I was working, I had my headphones on and the cord is 10' long and Major was laying under the couch, right below me and he started gathering the cord up. I yanked it out of his paws and yelled, NO. If he eats these, I'm going to be really bent.
Okay, that's enough of a break. Back to poetry gathering, so C has some reading. Too many balls in my court. Lobbed one to Warped, now to lob another one back to CR, which will free me up to handle the Patreon ball. I can do this. I can stay focused.
I have had maybe a gram of weed in the past 48 hours. That used to be enough to put me in a completely psychotic state, but I'm no where near that right now. I'm totally zeroed in on what I need to do, and how I need to do it.
Alon-sy!