melb100

I feel the urge to know what has become of Daphne. BTW Daphne reminds me of Some like it hot. And how am I to do without knowing what happened at Turandot lodge? We must meet and talk things over, I believe.

aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggguuuuuuuuu! This is the sound of excitement and fear!
Daphne is unfolding at my feet. She’s set up the meeting with G, and Oh! My heart is aching at the very idea! If only I can get that ache onto the paper!
One more day, maybe two, and Daphne will be finished, bar re-edits, which will be plentiful. I already know most of the places I’m going to edit, which I assume is quite good. Finished, I say! Did you hear me? Fini!!

After, there’s Iris, who hopefully shouldn’t take long – not if I keep going with my two hours a day – , and after that the hardest bit of all, which is going to require me to actually settle down and do some scientific research (via google, of all things, since there are no English libraries where I live, and we all know what a “whizz” I am at google).

But the story as it is will have been written. I can’t believe it! Hence absurd sentence length and inappropriate frequency of exclamation marks! I can see the end! I can actually damn well see the end!

Dave, Jen, all the other writers on my list, just sit down and write! Words come! Exclamation marks flow! Write! Write! Write!

I have just eaten a squid cookie. It was about as delicious as it sounds. Mmmm. Buttery squidness.

I have…..tatatatatatata…..just finished writing Daphne and X. Arhahahahaha! {Cackles wildly}

I can’t believe I’ve written it! It felt so strange, putting into words what I’ve seen in my head for two years now.

It’s wierd because I keep rereading it to try and get a feel for the idea, but I simply can’t put myself in the position of reading it and not knowing what is coming. I tell you, it’s either genius or complete and irredeemable crap. But it’s written!!

So, on with what happens next.

Er, what happens next? Any ideas?

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! {Squeels of elation reverberate around Japanese mountains.}

As you were.

I must admit I was reasonably surpised when I logged in to find, there at number 28 on my list of goals (but surely I only had 27?), “become anorexic”. It has since disappeared.

it’s not really a story about me, but they don’t offer much in the way of title choices, do they? Probably to keep tangents like this at bay.
Anyway, one more cheer on the atheism goal, or two on the amazon goal, and the shopping basket goal will FINALLY, after three (four? five?) long months, FINALLY cease to be my number one cheered goal.
I’ve refrained from deleting thus far in the hope that the people of 43 things will see sense and outcheer it with something else, and now we’re so close, so close I can almost tatse it! Or, more likely, that’s just this evening’s garlic coming back up.

Cheer atheism! Cheer Amazon! Don’t cheer shopping baskets!

It is 10.03 am and I have finished all my work. Even the work that involves pretending I have actual work has been exhausted. Six hours of shameless novel writing awaits. Only a little over three weeks now until I have to finish the thing or, erm, not face any consequences at all. So, let’s see if we can’t finish the central part of the novel, the brilliant idea which struck me down one afternoon over two years ago, wherein Daphne meets X. If I could just get that bit out of the way, I would be free to confront the fact that I don’t really know which way she’ll go after meeting X. To the kettle, and then the laptop.

How’s your going Dan?

I’m a fairly intelligent person. Well, obviously you all knew that already. Welcome, by the way, my further two new subscribers. What on earth is going on? I haven’t been this popular since I accidentally pushed the class bully down the stairs and everybody thought I did it on purpose as a way of making a courageous stand on behalf of her victims. Of course, I milked that little incident for all it was worth. Why? because I’m intelligent, that’s why. God these postings are just masterpieces of finely crafted narrative.

Being intelligent, I like to think I’m able to read. Sadly, life in Japan has put a few bullets through that particular theory. But hey, it’s okay, because I can still read English (and, if I’m feeling nostalgic, formal semantics), and who needs to read Japanese anyway? It’s not as if they ever write about anything other than the upcoming elections and different kinds of rice, usually on the same pamphlet might I add.

So, I am intelligent. I can read. Such are the now well-established facts. Which is why, and now we come to the crux of the entry, one thing you probably didn’t know about me is that every time, every single time that I log into 43 people, I catch, out of the corner of my eye, a suggestion that I make a list of my cow workers. And every single time, I think to myself, but that’s absurd, I don’t know any cows, and if I did they almost certainly wouldn’t be working, unless you call being slaughtered work, which it isn’t really, because how can you work when you’re dead,a nd- no, wait, maybe they mean people who work with cows. But what an odd idea for a list. What makes them think I know any of those? Who comes up with these list suggestions, and who on earth approves them? The world cow workers’ union? Paris Hilton? Jesus Christ, what am I doing on a site that advocated sitting around making lists of people who work with cows?

And then I remember that I also had this exact same thought process a matter of days (sometimes hours, I confess) earlier and that it didn’t do my sultry intellectual status any favours then either.

Every single time.

Do you think I can sue?

I just drank rancid milk by mistake. Didn’t notice until I got halfway down and there were actual solids. Nice.