Non-Post

No blog today, because I am sick with a virus a DEADLY AND HEART-RENDING DISEASE THAT WILL DESTROY US ALL.

Maybe I'll post one later, if I feel up to it.

MOURN FOR ME AND MY BARKING COUGH.

Upside: I sound a bit like Rorschach. Win?
- LV

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Real Life Is Irritating

So, I finally put aside a whole day just to write [ignoring my sinus headache, which has reached Biblical proportions], and instead I have spent a huge chunk of the day on the phone with my mother, and online searching for cheap flights and cheap hotels.

I'm not complaining [much]. It's just extremely stressful to have to make travel plans without conferring with my traveling companion [she's already in Europe, 7 hours ahead and her phone isn't working]. Plus my mom keeps screaming at me for being indecisive, which is a valid critique of my personality, but not helping the situation.

So I'm going to just book the flights, and if there's any issue on her part, we can change them. Right? Right. That is how I've decided to look at it.

Writing chapter five on the computer, because I got inspired and didn't feel like grabbing my notebook and looking for a pen. Poor Thanatos just got his ass kicked by Death. He may be my favorite character, because he's unabashedly an opportunist and a weasel. It's good to be comfortable with yourself.

Also have a short story idea I've been mulling over for a few weeks. I have a bunch of lines, and I know how it ends [roughly], but I haven't written anything down yet. It involves an old typewriter, New York in the winter, and other worlds. It's creepy and psychological and supernatural, or it will be once I've written it.

TROUBLESOME TRANSITIONS [AKA, in my mind, MURDERS & MONSTERS] is very talky. I haven't decided if this is a problem yet. But so far the scenes all involve people standing around talking, or researching and talking. So I added a bit of violence to chapter 5. I'm on page 70, making this the longest story I have ever written [not counting some truly awful screenplays I wrote in high school that were thinly veiled ripoffs of Quentin Tarantino films].

My sinus headache is worse. And I just chugged a whole coffee before I realized that 'nonfat' implies 'milk,' because I am stressed out and not very bright sometimes.

Does anyone else thing that K.D. LANG and CLAY AIKEN look like the same person?

FOOD NETWORK is a bad choice of entertainment when you're very hungry, and have no food to look forward to besides cold cans of soup and overpriced crappy coffee.

OK, off to book tickets, make plans, and hopefully get some damn writing done.

Happy Birthday ALAN RICKMAN!
- LV

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Bleargh

My book-writing has stalled. At least for the moment. I've been trying to work up the motivation all day, but the internet is easily distracting.

Also I have a sinus headache, and want a nap.

Strange E-Mails from Kay, who's already in Europe. I get nervous too easily. The smallest things make me twitchy and panic-stricken. Also, immense amounts of caffeine don't hep.

I've been downloading music ever since I got home. Last.FM is the most addictive thing I've found online in weeks.

Remember when commercials just showed you a product, and told you why you should buy it? It's very unsettling to watch a commercial and have no idea what it's selling until the very end: Two skimpily-clad women fight giant worms in the desert while a funny guy tells jokes about his mother - buy Coke!

Goodburger makes a damn fine burger. Eat there.
- LV

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Anxiety Is Eating My Brain

I wrote the first chapter of my book. It's only two pages. Does that make it a prologue? I might connect it to the second chapter. I like really short chapters. I have no idea why.

I wrote it in my notebook first, longhand. I call it a skeleton of the story. The outline is done, as is preliminary research on all the gods I reference. I really wanted to use demons, but I kind of liked the idea of there being a sort of business setup in the gods universe. So we're going with that.

I may have added too many characters. I was also really excited to discover my mental picture of one of the characters perfectly corresponded with the historical description. It was an encouraging coincidence.

One character is named after two authors I like. That might change. I also think the ending might be too abrupt, or at least the Big Finale. But a lot happens, and there's a lot of drama and humor and intrigue and all that good shit. At least there will be when I write it.

One problem is that I don't have a bead on my main character. I don't know her yet. I like her, but I don't really get her. And I feel like she really isn't proactive in her own story, which I dislike quite a bit. But maybe she doesn't have to be, you know? My story isn't about getting what you want, or happy endings. It's about dealing with what you get, and how you remain who you are despite what may happen to you. That nobody can take away who you are. Which is a bit deep for what seems to be a fairly funny book, but I'm hoping it will hold out.

I don't want to say what it's about yet. Suffice it to say, the main character is named Violet, Death is a major character, and quite a few people die. That's all you're gonna get for now. Unless you ask really nicely, add me on Technorati (click the link on the side), or otherwise make me feel special. I know you're all DESPERATE to find out what's cooking in my twisted little mind.

I have to go to the doctor. I haven't been in a while, and I think I might actually have something wrong with me. Maybe something serious. And now I've freaked myself out, and am too nervous to sleep. Because I'm stupid.

But that's all for now. Must sleep, and not worry, because I have my interview tomorrow (yay?). But I'll probably worry a lot, and not get any sleep, and be cranky and shitty all day.

The book is getting written. That is a Good Thing.
- LV

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I'm Falling Behind In The Race Of Life!

What the fuck? I was innocently checking out technorati.com, and my humble blog has fallen! Tremendously! I went from 2,515,283 to fucking 2,910,025! How could I have allowed the quality of my work to fall so far?! Come on, guys, I know people are reading this - the counter at the bottom doesn't lie. It DOESN'T, man! So go to this website: My Technorati Website and favorite me, or add me, or do something to increase my frankly pathetic numbers. Otherwise I'll find disgusting things on th internet and horrify you into a coma.

In other news, I was sick yesterday and vomited. The good news is that I got to miss work, and spent the day lying in the fetal position watching BLACKADDER and THE THIN MAN and reading LIFE WITH JEEVES. Incidentally, the last episode of BLACKADDER was so sad that I nearly cried. I couldn't, of course, because my friend Kay was over doing homework, and she didn't need me weeping in the corner while she tried to write a paper. So I restrained myself.

I'm going to see MADAMA BUTTERFLY with my parents tonight. I'm pretty excited - I've never been to the opera. It will be a nice contrast to the usual cultural dregs I immerse myself in.

I am getting a bit desperate to find a new job. Anything that isn't in retail.

And as for my 'book' (right now it's a collection of rants, much like this), I'm not sure how far from my real life I should go. Should Christopher Eccleston show up suddenly and be my love interest? Should I grow a foot (in height, not an extra appendage)? Should I solve crime? Right now it's pretty much real life. But real life is boring and depressing and kind of sucks. So I'm not sure. The dieting aspect has to be true, otherwise what's the fucking point? But everything else could, theoretically, come straight from the twisted hallways of my mind. Thoughts?

I need to finish getting ready for the opera. I suspect my V FOR VENDETTA T-Shirt would be frowned upon. Philistines.
- LV

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When You Really Think About It, Snot & Phlegm Are The Grossest Substances On The Planet

It is physically impossible to quit smoke and caffeine on the same day, especially when you don't want to and hadn't ever intended to do such a hideous, evil thing.

I have a migraine, and I'm still exhausted, so I'm going to plan my evening. And you're all going to listen and fucking pretend that the activities of a stranger matter to you.

But first: I overslept this morning, took a shower, and splurged on a cab (it's less than ten bucks to get to work, and since I can't have Starbucks, I'm probably saving on that end). On the way to work, I noticed a lot of people frantically waving for cabs. Thought that was funny. Got to work, and was informed that the New York City subway system had apparently committed suicide. It turns out I was the only person there. Until 10:30 AM. Sometimes I amaze even me. I celebrated by listening to my House, M.D. playlist on my iPod and playing around on LibraryThing.

When I get home, I am going to watch one of the following movies:
* Disturbia
* Perfume

I am going to finish The Guardians, then read one of the hundreds of books I still need to get through. Today, bookwise, I bought:
* Who's Afraid Of Virgina Woolf?
* Spook Country
* Song Of Susannah
* The Omnivore's Dilemma
* Disgrace
* Shadow of the Wind
All for $17.39.

I was PLANNING on going after work to the Strand and buying Forever Odd and/or (fuck it, and) The Eyre Affair, but now that seems wrong. I need an intervention for books.

My head just started throbbing. Begone with your words. AND GIVE ME A FUCKING CIGARETTE DIPPED IN COFFEE GROUNDS. I'LL SMOKE IT ALL, DAMN IT.
- LV

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ElleVee's Awesome Hospital Adventure!

You are all so fucking lucky. I try out dangerous pills so YOU don't have to. Then you can laugha at me, secure in the knowledge that you are too smart to do anything that stupid.

I tried some diet pills, called The Burn, which should have been warning enough. I felt fine for two days. Last night - Lost. My. Shit.

My heart was racing, pounding in my chest. I was having trouble breathing. My stomach was cramping. I was so wired I couldn't even read, let alone sleep.

I took the pills in the early afternoon. At 6:00 AM, I was still in pain, and getting really scared. I called my parents, told them I was going to the ER.

TV lied to me. No, I didn't expect to see Dr. House, or Dr. Cox, or even those assholes from Grey's Anatomy. But anyone who ever entered this hospital never wanted to be a doctor. The nurse was pretty short with me, since she was convinced I was a moron. I spent about an hour repeating my name, date of birth, and complaint, and also being moved to specific locations throughout the ER.

Eventually I got my own room, and a robe. They gave me an EKG, and I got to have the fun experience of being topless in front of a total stranger. The man in the room next to me had a serious injury, and kept farting loudly. I don't believe the two were related. Someone fell out of their bed.

As I stated before, I did not expect Dr. House, and I did not get Dr. House, which is probably good because it confirms that I am an idiot, not a lunatic, and also because I was so humiliated by my own flaming douchery that if House HAD shown up, I would have rather committed hari kari than admit what I had done.

I've given it a lot of thought, and decided that my doctor was definitely a Wilson.

I was/am OK. The pills were made up of enormous quantitites of two types of caffeine. I already have an anxiety problem, and ingest ridiculous amounts of coffee and soda. He told me to go home, rest, and avoid caffeine or stress.

At this point I'd like to add that I'm at work.

My Dad drove in from Jersey to make sure I was OK. So he got to witness the Great Vomit Tour Of Downtown.

I was sick outside a car garage.
I was sick in my apartment.
I've been sick at the office - twice.

You name it, I'll stain it.

I still have my bracelet from the hospital, as proof I am not, in fact, hallucinating.

I've been falling asleep at my desk, fighting waves of nauseau I cannot describe. I've spent most of the day hunched low in my seat, clutching my belly and trying to find something to stare at that would not make me pass out.

Good News: Except for the ocassional flutter, my heart is back to 'normal,' and I can breathe with relative ease.

Bad News: My stomach is rebelling against the system, lobbying heavily for its independence. Which frankly it can fucking take, as far as I'm concerned; I'm really sick of sick. And excruciating stomach pains. And hospitals.

So, dearest readers, here is what Elle has learned for all of you today:
* Don't take diet pills. Be fat and happy, or work out and shut your fucking mouth.
* Stress is bad. Lots of stress is very bad, and makes your heart flutter in the non-romantic way.
* Hospitals are not cool in any way, shape, or form, and I am totally justified in hating all of the non-fictional hospitals in the known universe.
* Caffeine is a powerful, wonderful thing that has royally skull-fucked me, and which I no longer like. Until tomorrow.
* The internet is not a reliable source of medical information. Asking one of the guides from ChaCha will probably not increase your chances of survival.
* Getting sick outside a car garage is not serious enough to warrant missing work.
* I do generally the same amount of work whether or not I'm in excruciating, soul-stomping, mind-humping agony.
* I can make it from my desk to the toilets in under a minute.

What would you do without me?
Your fearless pioneer and explorer,
- LV

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This Post Is Brought To You By Elle's Germs, Cough Syrup, & David Fincher

Downside: I am sick. Genuinely sick, not 'I kind of feel shitty so I'll milk it until everyone despises me for being so damn whiny.' I am truly sick. And not mentally either (OK, that may not be entirely true, but for the sake of this we're ignoring any issues going on INSIDE my head).

Everything hurts. Even my teeth. My snot is making me heavy. I have chills, and I may be slightly delerious due to masive amounts of cough syrup.

I'm even too dizzy to read. I need to take a break between writing each line.

Upside: New York City is the best place in the world to be sick. I have soup, juice, medicine, and tissues on the way. I have many DVDs to watch.

AND I dragged my TV into my bedroom so I can watch it without interacting with the Great Blonde Menace. Funny story: I took the TV into my room while she was sleeping (since it's MY TV, bought with my hard-earned video store money all those years ago), and my roommate freaked and thought it was stolen. She then wanted me to let her take it out so she could watch TV in the common area, despite the fact that she has a TV in her room AND a mini DVD player.

So today: Zodiac (Dear FUCK Robert Downey, Jr. is GORGEOUS. And a JOURNALIST! AND HE SMOKES! WE COULD SMOKE AT WORK AND WRITE AT THE SAME TIME! CAPS LOCKS!), Hot Fuzz, and HOUSE, M.D.: Season Two. Don't tell my roommate about the last one; she'll hijack the DVDs again, and weak as I am I WILL find a way to kill her.

I watched season one of HOUSE all day yesterday after they sent me home. It was glorious. Oh, and I am now officially broke. Like, not even ironically broke. Just very, very broke.

Either later today or tomorrow, I intend on discussing the amazingness of Dr. House, and why we are meant to be. And you will all tolerate this, because I am sick, and you will be bad people if you ignore my rantings. BAD.

In the meantime, I have a date with Robert Downey, Jr. and a serial killer. And sleep. And cough syrup. Lots of cough syrup.

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Mexican Chain Restaurants Are Bad For Everybody And Destroying The Fabric Of Our Lives (Cotton)

OK, we are all going to protest Chipotle. I went on chipotlefan.com to see how many calories my food was - 782. Now that is a LOT of fucking calories. Like, an obscene number. Then I had a lemon slice from Starbucks with 500 calories, and I feel sick.

I don't normally do calorie-counting, but COME ON! That is DISGUSTING. OK, I accept responsibility for the lemon slice. I knew it wasn't going to be good for me (but five HUNDRED?! What the FUCK?), but I ordered chicken tacos, no chips, no guac, nada. All right, I DID get sour cream. But not NEARLY enough to warrant so many calories. I could DIE from this!

Add in my breakfast, and Elle is sitting (sickly) at 1,662 calories for the day. OK, problem shall be dealt with. I don't think I can eat anything else today, because my stomach is very very cross with the sudden influx of nasty food, and I took my medicine, so I can minimize the damage. But SERIOUSLY. It takes a lot to make me this annoyed. And this has done it. I feel like spewing.

It wasn't even good food. How depressing is that? And now I'm royally broke, when I said I wouldn't eat out anymore. Whatever. No dinner, because I feel like dying, and all will be well.

But seriously. Protest Chipotle. Or demand they display their nutrition info. When I asked, they laughed. In retrospect, that should have tipped me off.

Odd Thomas was a surprisingly wonderful book. Next is A Thousand Splendid Suns.

I'm going to stop writing - I feel really sick.

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