pippychick

Oh, my… Tormund and Clegane are going to fight! Like, actually, really fight!

Wow… *types faster*

Oh, sod it.. I am back! Kind of… as work permits.

No, I haven’t written anything, but I miss being able to post status updates, which technically should count.

Warning: personal politics

So… this week. The only thing sadder than Trump still being President of the USA, is Tony Blair, war criminal, telling a group of people with cameras pointed at him that if only the British people rise up against Brexit, the government will have to listen to them.

That’s a little optimistic of him. Why, I seem to remember… it must be nearly fifteen years back, when a million people “rose up” to say: “Please don’t kill innocent Iraqi children, Mr. Blair!” And at the exact same time as we gathered in Hyde Park, Tony Blair was explaining to parliament why he would be completely ignoring us.

He also talked a bit about ‘direction of travel’ with regard to Brexit. Direction of travel, aided in part by him, is why we are in this mess. In some ways, direction of travel, aided in part by democratic presidencies, is why we are all in this mess. Direction of travel can be directly illustrated by the ever-widening gap between the rich and the poor, that these generations (from mine onwards) are less well off than their parents, the rise in street homelessness, the breakdown in social care, charging for doctors’ appointments, the americans who had their homes repossessed and could not possibly be bailed out for a few thousand (or even a few hundred), while the bankers who caused the misery got billions… and billions. I could go on… and on.

Back to Blair, it’s almost as if he paid someone to find as many ironies as possible for him to add into his speech, though we shouldn’t expect anything less from a man who was somehow – inexplicably – made middle east peace envoy despite causing unimaginable terror and suffering there. This is on par with making Trump a leader on women’s issues, or electing him a spokesperson for an alliance against police violence towards minorities.

Yes, I do believe Trump and Brexit are part of the same phenomenon. I’ve got to. I’m no fan of Brexit, I voted remain, but as I listen to Blair and I watch the insincere wringing of his hands, I almost hope it happens. Just to spite him. Just because it will force people to either wake up or drift further into the nightmare we’re all heading towards. I’m in the bottom third (and probably in the bottom third of that). I’ve got nothing to lose except everything, and if things stay the way they are – if the direction of travel continues – I’ll lose everything anyway.    Right there. That’s exactly the sentiment that got Trump elected. It’s the sentiment that will see us leave the EU. I hope it’s not the sentiment that puts us (as I predicted a few months ago) on the wrong side of the next war in Europe.

People of Britain and the US, please, do wake up. You can be anti-establishment without being anti-humanity. It’s not hard at all. It’s as easy as putting yourself in someone else’s place and deciding you’ll stand with them. We’ve evolved for this.

Quite apart from all that, I don’t think the establishment mind Trump or Brexit at all, for all that people wish it. It kind of leads me to think they’re happy to use those things, as if the people have chosen their own diversion in a brand new game of misdirection, which leads to just one question…

What the hell are they trying to make off with this time?

Ok, I think I need to hibernate for a bit. Maybe a couple of weeks. I don't know. People are worried about me.

I just want to sleep. Let me be and be nothing. I am nothing at all it seems. Not even a dream.

What have I done?

Well, I stopped someone from toying with me before they got it into their head that they could… so that’s something. I said I was worth more than that. I think, if I give myself a bit of time, I’ll believe it again. But as of right now… I feel pretty worthless.

Let me sleep it off.

Then, perhaps, I’ll finally start updating my work again. Brienne wouldn’t have stood for that shit either. *nods* I’m right. But I need sleep just now. Lots of it.

Ok… I am editing the next chapter. I’m a little late, I know.

Now let’s hope I don’t read through this and think: Oh, no. *gulps*

Here goes...

Over Christmas (as we do every year), we watched the entirety of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ while engaging in our own particular hobbies. Mostly, the quiet ones, like sewing, although every now and again it does precipitate one to cry out in a most alarmed fashion upon discovering an earlier miscount of stitches.

Be that as it may, I came upon a sudden startling conclusion whilst watching this year, which has to do with my dislike of our modern-day “celebrity culture”- and it is this:

Almost everyone on the entire planet has turned into Mr. Collins!

It’s true. Think about it for one moment. Remember the ugliness of his infatuation, and how well he considers himself for enjoying the “condescension” and “patronage” of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. You could easily replace that woman’s name with any featured in the celebrity section of our news outlets today and lose little meaning. And, just as in ‘Pride and Prejudice’ Lady Catherine has little claim to our (or Lizzie’s) adulation, our admiration or even our respect, except for that which society bestows upon her.

In light of the above, it is possible that we can draw a straight comparison here between Lady Catherine and any of the Kardashians, or Kanye West, or Donald Trump. As for Mr. Collins… I respectfully and humbly suggest that if you’re in the habit of grovelling to people with no claim to your consideration besides their excessive wealth and status – please stop. The rest of us are Lizzie. We are not Charlotte Lucas. It’s unseemly.

My apologies. I haven’t been writing anything. And now I have a piano lesson. And actually, I think I might be Lydia. Oh, well.

Right… I’m about to do something to the two male pov characters in my story that most men would call downright cruel. I’ve got them this far. To steal a phrase, only one thing could possibly win me greater glory: to stop them.

Women do feel this too, and in the morning Brienne’ll be so pissed off, she’ll likely decapitate a wooden training dummy or something in sheer frustration. Let’s hope there’s one around, or Podrick really will be in trouble in that chapter…

I am very, very evil. Especially with regards to the end of this, and my thoughts on the (potential!) eventual fate of these characters. Doesn’t bear thinking about. Unless you happen to be me. *looks well shifty… mutters about history… repeating… incest… Targaryen… insanity… fire… ice… *coughs*… craster… et cetera...*

If you didn’t shiver just then, you’re probably quite, quite lucky… 

So today is/was my brother’s birthday, and I’m sitting here staring into space when I should be getting ready to escape the house for Scarborough. You can draw as many lines as you want, but this stuff always leaks out from all of them, no matter how diminished you become. *sighs* I still miss you.

…

Ok. This has helped… I think. *goes to look at the washing machine*

So yesterday I knitted a bobble hat for the dog. You can’t tell, but she’s really impressed.

So, having managed to somehow wangle the day off work, I have spent most of it rewriting and redrafting an original story based on an idea by JayDee. There’s a little bit left to go, but I think I’m going to leave that to tomorrow since it concerns the ending, and I want to pitch it just right. I have no idea if this is any good at all, but I’ve decided to just wallow in the feeling and use it should I ever need to describe performance anxiety. I mean, who knows? One day, I might finally have gotten Elrond off with so many people that he really can’t… you know… face it.

That’s a lie. If that ever happened, he could always face it…

There’s no sex in this story. I’m going to need to write some after this. I’ve got several smut-filled unfinished tales to choose from. Maybe I’ll pick on Brienne & Co. Or Rikki. Mmm… Iason.

Okay, I am sleeping!

So, this morning it seems we pay the television license fee so that the BBC can invite dickheads on to Breakfast to justify shooting lions and elephants. No! F**k off!

Not the best start to the day. Gits.

*goes back to writing porn or whatever the hell this is*

WARNING: Personal politics ahead...

So the petition against Trump making a state visit now has over 1.5m signatures. For context, the UK has a population of about 52m people who are over the age of fourteen.

This evening, I was off out protesting in Sheffield. For such short notice there were a lot of people, so many we closed the main road in front of the town all. At one point I was out on the edges, when a woman asked me what it was about, since she had just finished work. I told her; so she joined in.

Of all the slogans I heard chanted tonight, “Trump – better out than in!” is probably my favourite. Followed closely by the “Theresa the appeaser!” mentions from the speakers.

Also memorable is the moment when a girl stood up in front of the microphone and declared: “I am a muslim woman! And an activist!” to rapturous applause.

I’ve got to admit, I have (especially in my younger years) participated in many anti-racist and anti-fascist protests, marches and rallies, but this is the first where I felt protest and civic duty really merged together into one.

WARNING: Politics and bad language… but I was provoked (on the bad language). I make no excuse for my politics.

Hahaha...

The Speaker of the House of Commons in the UK (John Bercow), has said this about the possibility of Trump talking to MPs:

“We value our relationship with the United States. If a state visit takes place, that is way beyond and above the pay grade of The Speaker. However, as far as this place is concerned, I feel very strongly that our opposition to racism and to sexism, and our support for equality before the law and an independent judiciary are hugely important considerations in the House of Commons.”

So basically he’s said: hey, let’s not.

Unlike the BBC, I don’t think I need to include the idiot comments (who shall remain unnamed), being as he is a complete and utter **** who used £4000 of public money to keep his fucking stables warm… FFS. But he’s not happy… bizzare! He’s like one of those minority members of UKIP, who you just think… what the hell are you doing there? Get out you imbecile! But then for some people greed trumps everything (so to speak) – even victimisation of your own ethnicity, since he was born in Iraq and so has been unable to enter the US for the best part of a week. What a moron!

Well it seems like all the stress and extended working hours do take a toll after all, and the upshot of it all is that now I'm really not very well. And I still have lots of hours to work this week.

I may be MIA for an extended period of time.

I'm afraid to say I haven't been writing anything either – not a sausage – so updates to my stories are on indefinite hold for now. Sorry about that.

Now, while I can, I am going back to bed.

Well, despite being quite ill, I seem to have managed to complete another chapter. And it didn’t look like it was ever going to happen this one, so… bonus, I guess.

I don’t know. I guess I’ll just do the read through.

Maybe I’ll have a little lie down first… *groans* Perhaps with a couple of paracetamol.

Well, I am really struggling with this chapter. It’s mostly written, but… I had a specific format in mind, and I’ve kept to it, but it feels off, like I’ve inadvertently ruined the pacing. That’s odd, because I wanted to write this format to have a clear break between the prior slow burn/consummation vs the lead in to the war, which would require a change in pacing.

*scratches head*

As I check the word count, it seems like if I finish off the chapter as I planned, I might still have some room to play with it. I wonder if there’s some little aspect I can add that will make it work better. Hmm… *thinks*

Some of this chapter is written from the limited pov of the Lord of Light, and I’m hesitant to use that pov to do anything to regulate pacing, mood or atmostphere. It seems too transparent and heavy handed to do that. Probably because if I do that, it’d lead to a feeling of discontent in the reader. I’m not giving much away. If I use the pov like that, you’d expect to see more of the pov character’s motivations. Yet the other pov characters (the three of them) are dreaming, so I can’t use them. Beric is awake, but he’s being haunted. He’s also not a pov character.

I suppose I’ll feed the dogs while I think. This is a quandary. If I can’t fix it, I’m going to have to chuck it and think of something else altogether. But this felt right when I started it. Grrr!

Well, I have finished the chapter, and it’s still off. I’ve read the entire work, and it’s still off. I’ve tinkered with some things about it, and it’s still off.

There’s nothing else for it.

I have to throw it all away and go back to the drawing board *sighs*

So disappointed in myself right now, because there’s so many things coming up that are partly written, and things coming up that I can’t wait to write. I don’t know why this is being difficult at all.

I just can’t figure it out.

Well, I think I’ve nearly done it. Almost seven thousand words. It needs finishing off so that it’ll lead into the next chapter, and it needs several read throughs, but… I’m actually kind of happy with it in the main, I think. And despite the word count, there’s no way I can split this up. I’ve been kind of cruel with cliffhangers, sure, but I think splitting this would rightly get me some bad karma, lol.

Either this is the hottest thing I’ve written for a good, long while, or… *gulps* I’m completely mistaken, and I’ll get a healthy dose of reality when I post it. Please, please, please, let it be the first one.

Okay, I guess I’ll begin those read throughs now. *takes a deep breath*

Well, I’m back, and I may even be writing again. I’m not going to say what’s been happening, because that would just bore you all – and me. Suffice to say I suspected it before, but now I know that Hell is dually purposed as a carpet shop. You’ll finally realise how many rugs you’re standing on when cackling demons start pulling them from under your feet.

Something is off with the universe lately, but perhaps it’s settling itself. Except, there’s Brexit to look forward to. Of all the things I hate, I hate that I’ve become one of those insane people who keep shelves full of bottled water… just in case. All we need is a second referendum, then the people of this country will vote ‘No Deal’ like lambs to the slaughter.

Ah, well.

For as long as it’s possible, I may as well potter about in my own AU’s.

Well, it’s got to be said. I don’t write het that often, but honestly I’m really enjoying myself here.

Well, there is plenty of drama at my house tonight. We have just had to throw my aunt out after a litany of bad behaviour. Including getting dolled up and sodding off for a drink in the pub when my mother was rushed into hospital with a gallstone attack, leaving me to go in the back of the ambulance. She’s spent the last few weeks completely ignoring us, especially my mother, sneaking in and out without so much as a word. Now she’s gone.

Tried to talk to her first, but (once we’d insisted on her putting her bloody phone down), it’s like she just can’t admit how bad she’s been. Her response to going out during the ambulance thing? “I only went for one pint.” Well, fuck me. I can ony feel the utmost pity for her children. Seriously.

All we have done is help her.

The absolute best came as she went out the door, when she told my mother she’d driven my dad and my brother to suicide, and her second husband too. My mother has been widowed twice.

I think good riddance to her.

For perspective, this is the behaviour of a forty-seven year old woman.

In other news, I am nearly 2000 words in to the next chapter.

Well…

This morning I turned on the TV and threw up in my mouth a bit.

I haven’t done that since the day Diana died. And for many of the same reasons.

Well… it’s been a strange few days, that’s for sure!

Here are some examples of “alternative facts” for reference:

Despite photographic evidence, in terms of visible crowds, less is more.

A unicorn just flew past my window with a can of Red Bull in its mouth. It had a sign around its neck saying it was a Pegasus.

Being sent abusive comments means you are guilty of harassment.

The world is actually flat.

There is no such thing as marmite.

I do not have work in the morning.

I am not going to bed.

I am not saying goodnight.

What a horrible day!

However, I seem to have managed to write most of a comedic chapter, somehow, in the middle of it all. Just a bit more to go, if I can concentrate.

What is 2021 like?

Have the carrots attacked yet?

Wow… I was just sitting here, writing, thinking up interesting ways for Clegane to kill some people who had pissed him off, and then Tormund…

He happened to someone.

*whistles*

To be fair, he is kind of angry – well, furious –  but… bloodyhell… even Clegane is just standing there, in awe.