Once again, I bring you a mixed bag of a blog post. And, believe it or not, I’ll actually talk about writing for part of it. Writing, not not writing.
Heck, I’ll start out talking about writing, why not? Although, now that I think about it, I really should save that for my India Harper post on Friday, but…I’d probably forget what I wanted to say anyway. Not that I can’t blog ahead. I just hate the delay. Read me now. Or something like that.
Right, writing. Grey and I finally landed upon an idea for a new story not tied into our previously established ‘verses. She wants us to branch out and do new characters and stuff, which is always a good idea. But it’s difficult to put aside the toys you love and know so well. Ah, well.
On the solo front, I’m still poking ahead on Landa’s second book. I’ve also decided to go ahead and rework my detective and designer story that’s been languishing into a first person M/M/F to hopefully pair with The Tender Trap if all goes well. We’ll see. And for some odd reason, not only did the character want first person, he wanted first person present tense…which is driving me a bit batty. So what little forward progress I made will have to halt as I rework things into past tense. First person is divergent enough for me. Though not so divergent as it seems to have become the norm in my solo stuff with recent writings. Weird.
What else? Saturday was my birthday, number twenty-nine. Something I’m okay with, but also kind of shocked by. How the heck did that happen? I bought a condo, have been living on my own and supporting myself for five years, and have been legally able to purchase alcohol for eight years. Yet I still feel like a poser, as if someone’s going to come along and revoke my adult status. Maybe that’s why I still have those nightmares about having to make up high school classes.
Nevertheless, I did actually venture out and treat myself to a fab little dinner at St. Stephen’s Green, this brilliant little pub-ish restaurant on 17th and Green here in Philly. If you’re ever in the city, it’s well worth checking out. The standard fare is delicious, but the dinner specials are well worth coming back for. Always something different and always good. Had a pan-seared ribeye in a peppercorn sauce that was beyond delicious. Even ate the asparagus. Probably should have had something a bit more festive than the Yeungling to go with it, but it was good.
And to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I did my taxes. Turbo Tax is my friend. Really, if you have any doubts about doing your own taxes, don’t. Yeah, you have to pay a bit and I’m sure I could do the real forms on my own, but it’s nice to be walked through it. And less expensive than an accountant, even though I would be smart to maybe look into one to at least get the whole 1099-MISC stuff for writing and editing squared away. But in any event, I came out ahead. Way ahead, thanks to the condo purchase. Federally, at least. Once again, the State needed money from me…due to the writing and editing. Not much, but annoying. The only downside is that due to the whole home purchase thingie, I have to snail mail the return. Could be worse, right? And while I’m doing my best not to count on the return, after I pay off George and Gracie, I’m replacing the water heater stat. And maybe the fridge. Cross your fingers.
Actually, there’s a second downside to the taxes…nightmares. While going through the whole rigmarole of the home purchasing fun, I don’t think I had a single nightmare or anxiety dream. If I did, they were mild and forgettable. Not so last night. Last night, I seem to have purchased a $3 million shithole out in California that sort of had some promise but I sure as hell couldn’t afford to help find it, let alone buy the place. While it had an ocean view and a ton of rooms, the place had connecting doors to other residences with creepy men wandering through and a homeless guy who “lived” in my new place. I think I may have had connections to an Eliot Spencer type guy, who I think might have been a co-worker, that I was counting on to help make this all go away. The one good thing to come out of this was that I realized just how much I love my little home.
Now if only spring would hurry up and get here. Hate being cold. Maybe that’s why I was dreaming of California. Hrm…
