Books, bugs, and mysteries

Life moves apace, dear readers, and as per usual it's never simple. Exciting, yes, fun, sometimes, interesting, always, but never, ever simple. For starters, I'm literally drowning in books, both for pleasure and work. I've recieved a great many volumes from various publishers for my reviewing pleasure, which is fine, except for the small problem of these being rather large books. Combined with the huge amount of reading I do for my classes every single night the task of getting through any of them is more than a little daunting. I swear I will get to it, though. I just will have to take a bit longer than average, as after a certain point when I'm reading my brain goes into shutdown mode and refuses further input. *Deep, melodramatic sigh*


The bug life has also been making a nuisance of itself. The hallway of the Undercity - a collective pet name for the basement level in which my friends and I make our abode - is consistently infested with all manner of creepy crawlers. Assasin bugs, daddy-long-legs, centipedes (naturally), mosquitoes, and a host of unnamed monstrosities - all of which apparently have been using anabolic steroids because they are HUGE - regularly make us scream, run, and put our books to practical use as ideal bug killers. I chalk it up to the weather, as the dropping, autumnal temperatures tend to drive insects in doors, thus causing all manner of issues.

Also, the clanking pipes have finally come to a halt. That has not, however, brought an end to the late night noise. This time the sounds come in the form of a person, one who routinely returns to/leaves the building early in the morning, and opts to use the back door which is set to trigger an alarm if it's opened after 12 AM or before 6 AM. Said alarm has the power of a jackhammer and goes off till the door has been closed, usually by which point I'm disentangling my fingers from the ceiling plaster and trying to not have a heart attack. Who this person is remains a mystery, though I am busily compiling and correlating the incidence of the door's opening and hope to be able to bring this to a halt in the near future. Because either they cut it out or I feed them to my shoggoth. Their choice.

I'm more hothouse orchid than hardy highland rose.

I love to 'get away from it all' as much as the next person. How the next person and I do so, however, tend to be very different things. In my mind if one is going to take a vacation it should be to a splendidly comfortable place that requires one to merely arrive and enjoy oneself. One should not have to clean, cook, run from bugs, or anything else that is even the tiniest bit taxing. Luxurious? Yes. Decadent? Absolutely. Hence why if I had my way I would vacation very rarely, but when I did I would be doing it in the grandest style I could reasonably afford. I am a fan of the spa, the five star hotel, the best restaurants and plays, and, as you, my dear populace may have realized from my list of things I'd rather not be doing, the vacation I am currently on is not exactly my preferred method of relaxation.

It is true I've had a fairly good time thus far, though there have been considerable hangups. The largest of these has been the fact that I was recently eaten alive by chiggers, and the bites tend to get more aggravated when I'm sweating or stressed which makes me itch like mad and want to peel my own skin off. The other prime issue is that the isolated nature of the house my family is occupying means that we're all in contact a great deal, and at least two members of the family - myself and my mother specifically - are not huge people persons (or, more accurately, my mother isn't a huge people person while I am not exactly adept at social interractions with others and will often simply retreat to my boudoir when I feel cornered). This means that toes get trod on, fangs to get bared, and tempers can flare. Finally, there is a general feeling that one should be doing something all the time, and, as stated above, in my mind a vacation should be a time in which one is obligated to do absolutely nothing. Why on earth would one go way the hell out of one's way to continue the same tired routine one carries on at home?

Now, however, I do have to say, that, in said vacation's defense, it is far from bad, and, in some ways, the paragraph preceding this one was more an excuse to vent than anything else. On the plus side I've visited some of my favorite shops, gotten alot of writing done (a new review will grace us in the near future), and caught up on alot of things I've been let slide (like reading the third book of the Dark Tower series and updating the inventory I keep that records all the minerals and rocks I've collected over the years). So it's all a matter of balance, and I can at least thank my lucky stars that I'm in an actual house and not a camper, or, god forbid, a tent. I have running water and toilets that don't require the user to kick them to make sure bats don't fly out (yes, I have experienced that). The food has been lovely, and the company, when we put our rayguns down and stop trying to recreate the Mexican standoff from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, has been most pleasant.
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............................The bugs still suck.

Photoshoots, cars, and insect life

I love photography, whether I'm the one taking the pictures or the subject being documented. Thus it is that one of the things I'd like to use to improve this blog is the inclusion of various fashion focused photoshoots to benefit my many viewers. It's a concept that's been rattling around in the back of my head for quite awhile now, and at this point I've begun plotting how I might work it out. Whether it will really take flight, however, isn't really in my hands. I need photographers, models of both genders, and a makeup specialist among others, all of whom will have to be willing to work with only the promise of publicity as payment. I could, admittedly, begin doing these shoots with just myself and one other person, but inevitably others will be needed. I do, however, have some connections I can plumb and favors to phone in, so perhaps this will work. You never do know.


In other news, I have a car. A beautiful red automobile that I have named (since I name all my electronics/machines) the USS Enterprise (A trekkie? Whatever made you think that?). It is absolutely spectacular, comfy, and badass, and comes with some pretty advanced technology, including a communication system I named Uhura (A life? Who needs one of those?).

Finally, a word about bugs. I am not a person who generally freaks out where insects or other invertebrates are concerned. Indeed, I've often found the various creepy crawlies that make other people scream to be fascinating or even cute. The one bug I cannot stand, however, is the house centipede, and, of course, because it is the one thing I cannot stand, it's the one nasty I encounter the most often. Honestly, if you want to freak me out, all you have to do is show me a picture of one of those ugly fuckers. And it does have to be a house centipede, mind you. Amazon centipedes (the huge things with the gigantic mandibles) are not something that particularly freaks me out. But the wiggly, hairy, bath tub invading monstrosity known as scutigera coleoptrata will make me scream and run like nothing else on this earth. And I've had to kill two in the last two weeks. If this keeps up I may just lose my mind.