The blogging paper I was so nervous about came easier than I thought it would. It's done. It's turned in, and all a week early.

I feel...very productive.

So Productive in fact, that I'm going to go to George Webb's to visit Frost and have some breakfast.

Winner.

Today, Frost and I smoked in the non-smoking section of a family restaurant. This, my friends, is progress in these dark and dizzy times.

I've seriously got nothing to say here. Frost's problem seems to be that she lacks the motivation to update and that's fine, because I'm totally feeling her pain here. I guess my big problem is that I know that next to nobody reads this journal (aside from the people who were already following my other blog...LJ...whatever) and to be honest, I would've moved this shit to my other blog like Adrian did months ago, but that one stays friends only and I'm trying this whole thing where I want to be open to as many people as possible.

Which is sad, but you know I feel like those of us on LJ are getting shafted by our classmates on blogger just because they seem to view LJ as a place where the kiddies play and are emo. The extra annoying part is that I don't know how to dissuade anyone of that notion. It's completely frustrating and I wish I could just make it stop or make them realize just how much EASIER things are on LJ. Maybe I should be writing my paper about this instead because the knitting thing is looking to be difficult as it is. I mean, how am I going to manage 5-7 pages about a topic I'm caring less and less about as the days go by.

In other news, I don't want to go to my fiction workshop today, but I have to and it's making me emo. Joy of joys. At least I'll have fun times with Frost after classes. Winnar.

Knit blogging
Important for knitters because it brings the community together
How it’s done this.
- Knitting Olympics
- Knitters Without Borders
- The Great Knitting Meetup
Downsides of knit blogging
- Elitist social circle
- Hard to get into
- Not particularly useful in the “real world”
- Easy to make fun of
- Have to actually knit something
Upsides of knit blogging
- generally a fairly tight knit (har har) community
- easy to get help when you need it (if you know where to look)
- helps knitters sell their wares
- Knit Blogger Bingo at Rhinebeck
- Pimps out online knitting e-zines
o MagKnits
o Knitty
o The Anti-Craft
- Really freaking hungry
- No. Srsly.
- Terrace?

Look up stuff on the above stuffs. Find specific blog entries. Seriously.

I, unfortunately, don't have a subject line for today. I actually just spent the past couple of minutes trying to think up something appropriate to say and failed miserably.

There's a hip hop dance team thing going on in Spaights Plaza, which sucks because I had hoped to do my blogging outside since it's so supremely gorgeous out. I tried. I really did, but the music was too loud and the people standing around doing nothing when they ought to be dancing or providing some sort of entertainment (because I'm assuming that's what they were there for) was too frustrating not to be distracting. So instead I'm chillaxing at the table waiting for Frost to get out of art class so that we can chillax at her house and watch, probably, Final Fantasy: Advent Children or some Kids in the Hall. One of the two or maybe neither and we'll raid her dvd shelf for something completely different like Domino or Revenge of the Sith.

School's been going okay. I'm done being worried about the spiritual writing class because I've just stopped caring. Why bother if I'm going to fail anyway? It's just emotionally taxing and spiritual things don't impact me as heavilly as they do other people. Which is to say that to date, nothing's really touched me on a spiritual level and maybe that makes me less of a person, but it's the truth. All those years of Sunday School and going to church as a kid were a complete waste. It was just daycare with Jesus. So I'm going to fail so I've just given up and put my energy into my other classes. I suppose it's all that I can do really.

I'm still terrified of this blogging paper. I have no idea how I'm going to fill five pages, much less seven with talk about knitting. The survey, while it was a good idea, turned out to be completely ineffective in teaching me anything I didn't know already. It's frustrating and I'm sort of feeling like that kid who was taught how to swim by being flung into the deep end. Not that I've never written a successful paper before, it's just not on a topic so vague with so few resources. I'll find something, I'm sure. I'm just...worried.

Speaking of blogging, I feel bad about not going to class on Monday, but I'm not sure if I've got killer allergies or if I'm just sick, and if I'm just sick, I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be able to stand being sick. It's frustrating and I just want to be done blowing my nose and wiping at my eyes. Fairly certain it's allergies, but who knows? Not I sir.

Anyway, I'm going to have some lunch and see what I can find on tv links that's interesting.

Cheers guys.

And that's all I'm going to say about the weather because everyone else on my f-list has already elaborated on it. Seriously though, guys. It's insane out there. It's like...freakin Marcel Corlioni out there...or whatever that guy's name was. Frost, do you remember? Meh...whatevs.

Really tired of school. Like I'm totally ready for it to be over and done with, but it's not ending any time soon and that's the huge problem. Five more weeks. UGH.

I've got my second story written for 415 though, and so far 'tis all right. I'm like 13 days ahead of the game on that one so I've got time to revise and edit what I need to. Yes, it's about faire, no it doesn't suck Thank You Very Much. Actually, yeah, it kind of does suck, but I was trying something new for me and that's really what matters.

I...had something to say and then completely forgot what it was.

Oh! Right.
Totes nervous about this paper for blogging. I mean I know what I'm writing about but so much of it depends on other people that it scares me. Hopefully I'm over reacting and everything'll go fine, but well who is to know? Imma go update the group blog now. Laters Gators.

So, as many of you know, I've decided to write my final paper for blogging class on the impact that blogging has had on the knitting community. The problem with that is that there isn't a lot of concrete data out there, so I've decided to create a survey to see what sort of experiences (both positive and negative) people have had with blogging.

Comments are screened so that you can feel free to elaborate as much as you like. Nobody will see the results but myself.

Anonymous commenting is also enabled for this post for those of you without LJ or who simply wish to remain anonymous.

Thank you very much for all your help or at least taking the time to read this.

Knit Blogging Survey

1 Your Gender:
2 Your Age:
3 How long have you been knitting?:
4 How long have you been blogging about knitting?:
5 How long have you been reading knitting blogs?:
6 What are some of your favourites?:
7 Were you in the knitting community before knit blogs took off? If so, what sort of differences have you noticed between then and now? If not, did the amount of knit blogs out there help to lure you to knitting in general?:
8 What is the best thing you like about knit blogging?:
9 What is the thing you dislike the most about knit blogging?:
10 Is there anything you would change about the society revolving around knit blogging?:
11 Have you participated in any internet organized Knit Alongs? If so, what has been your experience with those?:
12 Have you participated in any internet organized Secret Pal events? If so, what has been your experience with those?:
13 Any additional comments:

I just had the weirdest dream in which I was on the Titanic and it was sinking, but there was also a great ninja battle taking place. I know Dr. S was all 'keep your dreams out of your blogs, nobody cares' or something like that, but seriously this was too bizzare not to share.

I mean...there were ninja traps and smoke bombs and everything. This might be because I went to go see the new TMNT with frostcicle, but somehow I doubt it because I don't think that explians why it was on the freaking Titanic.

In other news, Frost, Jeremy, and I played kickball yesterday and some labrador retriever ran off with our kickball. We got it back, but it was still kind of hilarious when it happened. It's weird to be blogging in the library. I almost feel like I should turn off the computer and do some work, but that doesn't make much sense.

In other other news, I think I'm going to be writing a paper on why LJ pwns all other blogging services. Persuasive Essays FTW. Poll to come in pirate_duck soon. Right now I have a story to work on and a phone post tutorial to write. Joy of Joys.

So, we had a presentation in Fantasy in Lit today and it went horribly. It would've been worse if John hadn't been there to bail us out. Next presentation's in a week. Luckilly, it's a book I know like the back of my hand and is supah easy. I'm just annoyed that we mucked this one up.

I don't really have much to say here, I just wanted to use the subject line, because...well sometimes Phil comes out with some real gems.

I'm doing a paper on LJ for blogging class. Should prove to be interesting at the very least. Probably putting up a poll in my other journal just to keep up with stuffs and place and whatnot.

And that's about all I have to say about that.

Those of you who know me well outside of the interwebs, know that I have a father who is...not quite all there. He's done quite a few not so sane things in his day, the most recent of which I referenced in my last update¹. One of these questionable things happened over a decade ago when he decided to buy a building that at one point in time had been a restaurant. Now, however, it just sits there and depreciates from the fire damage that happened before he bought it. Peter, unsurprisingly enough, has mentioned more than once that he'd like to go in and take pictures on the rare occasions that he ends up on my side of town. I wish I could say that it's worth urban x-ing, but it's really just mouldy and unpleasant. In fact, it's the symbol, essentially, for most of my dislike for the man. But! I'm not here to rant about him, thank god.

At 1:30 this morning. I had a nightmare involving Daleks (a type of evil alien from Doctor Who that really just succeeds at being adorable and not frightening at all) at my back door just waiting for me to come out so that they could "EXTERMINATE" me. All fine and dandy since I'm a big fan of the Daleks anyway. The frightening thing happened was that I woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. And all I could think was "oh shit, something's going down", because...well shit doesn't happen like that at that hour of the morning and it's not a big deal. So what did I do? I did what any sane person would. I burrowed further under the covers and waited until the noise went away while my mom went upstairs to look out the window and spy on whoever it was that dared come to the house at that hour. Half an hour later she came back downstairs and I decided that it was safe enough to go back to sleep.

Sleep, however, was very much not the inky sanctuary that it should've been. Instead of Daleks, I dreamed of some guy going up and down the alley way smashing the shit out of whatever car was parked outside, including mine². This now kept me awake from 2:30 am onward, interrupting the odd bits and pieces of sleep I could catch with more images of the same. Smashed cars and broken glass everywhere. Disturbingly enough, it was the first time I'd actually felt something like sympathy for my neighbours. Usually, they're just annoying, and I'm quickly becoming that old guy who yells at kids to get off his lawn³.

Time passed, as it is oft wont to do, and after a while, 5:00 rolled around and the doorbell started ringing again. Well, this time, Mom actually answered it. Turns out that Peter's comment a few days ago after our adventure to Central Library about the sign still being up was a bit of foreshadowing as, apparently, there was an armed robbery (or so I hear) and the perpetrator skidded on some black ice⁴, lost control of his vehicle, and crashed into the sign that read the name of the restaurant in large red letters. Right now the area's all cordoned off as a police crime scene, and it's really rather annoying, but I just had to say that I'm sincerely glad that it wasn't either of my cars that were injured in the process. And now, it's 5:30. I'm going to go back to bed, and probably post this when I get up again at 7.


Edit 8:30 am - Not quite what I was told at first is true. New facts emerge!
1. Not an armed roberrry. Alcohol may, in fact, have been involved. Either way, I'm not surprised.
2. Not only the sign is down (sort of), but the car took out almost all of the pillars on the porchfront of the building.
3. Rental car is totalled, prolly.
4. Driver had no liscence.
5. Dad is currently with the building inspector making sure the roof isn't going to fall down without that support. He is v. not thrilled with all of this. Can't say that I am either.

Edit the second - 3:11 pm And apparently the guy died as well. Lovely.

Edit the third - 8:04 am 3/12 -
Two news stories from The Journal Sentinel and The Milwaukee Channel...
and a facebook group for the dead guy found completely by accident while I read my mini feed. The spot where the car hit is now covered in teddy bears, flowers, and graffiti morning the guy's loss. I'm fine with that, really I am, but do some people really have to resort to vandalism when I know I'm just going to be made to paint over it anyway?

¹ For the record, I have no idea why he's pushes so hard for me to get a job and then flies off the handle and shouts bloody murder when that actually happens. It's frustrating, and I'd really rather have a job and move out (officially) than not.

² This would be another one of my dad's genius schemes to lure me into an excited state at the thought of actually being able to drive somewhere without getting a ride from my mom, by purchasing a car and putting it in my name and then neglecting to give me the keys so that now the cars sit there and don't work because they haven't been used in so long. I've had my liscence for almost five years now, and three cars that I should technically be able to drive whenever I feel like it, but and this is what gets me, apparently because I don't have a job to pay for the gas and the insurance, I'm not allowed to drive, but, as mentioned earlier, I'm also not allowed to get a job. You can see how this might make me feel a little trapped.

³ Though there was once incident where I was coming back to school, and cutting through my own back yard to have two clearly under educated girls go "What the fuck you doin' on our property?" as they trampled straight through my irises. I was Not Pleased, as you can imagine. My only response was "I live here. Please get the hell out of my flowers." Perhaps I should've threatened to call the police on them for trespassing or something, but it really didn't seem worth it. A fight nearly insued, but was avoided by the three snaps and an eyeroll I received from the two young ladies in question. To this day, thanks to the overabundance of snow lately, I still see footprints leading from their house across the street all the way through our yard and across both my flower beds. You'd think that if you were going to insist on cutting through somone's yard that you'd at least take the easy route that isn't marred by trees, but apparently the sidewalk is just too much effort.

⁴ Unrelatedly, I had a rather spectacular spill on some black ice at frostcicle's place last night. You all should've seen it. It was...impressive.

Today KP came up to me and  gave me a random back rub. It was nice.

But seriously, it's been fairly uneventful. I feel like I should have more than just that to update about. It's still snowing outside, big fat flakes that are probably lake effect which means that I won't have to shovel them later since I live way on the other side of town. It feels like the days are floating by as slowly as the snow outside, but alternately whizzing past just as quickly as...well something. My analogies clearly fail today.

I'm really looking forward to getting the semester done and over with. I've got two jobs waiting for me (one at the renaissance faire and another at George Webb's)  that I can't wait to get back to. I don't really know about Webb's though. I mean I really want the job. There's no question there. I love the people and the atmosphere even when it's crap, but there's the matter of what happens after the summer. I don't think I'm going to want to quit. It's just...you know having that source of income is far too good for me to want to say no to. I still think that a lot of my problems would be solved if there were a way for me to just buckle down and work. I wouldn't have this ongoing RP addiction because I wouldn't have the time for it. I mean, I just do it now because I'm bored and have nothing else to really motivate me. I'd be able to afford things, which would be...you know...nice. In fact, the only real downside would be that I'd probably smoke a lot more than I do, but that's something I can live with, you know? Well, no not really because eventually it will kill me, but that's not exactly the point.

The point is that I really dislike my dad for this whole ordeal with having a job and everything else, and this was just on my mind as they're demolishing the old coast guard building by the lake (duh, where else would it be?) and as much as I want to contribute to the 1.3 million they need to keep it and fix it up, I can't even afford lunch and that is le sad.

So, for once I not only remembered to bring my camera, but actually took pictures.
Hurrah!

Hellooooo Chicago. Fresh off the bus and this is what we saw on the way to the museum...that we never actually made it to.
Why don't we have architecture like this in Milwaukee?



Quite possibly one of the best pictures I've ever taken. The trains run everywhere downtown. It's hard to walk two blocks without looking up and seeing tracks over head, and the lines and angles of the platforms are just gorgeous.



A seedy dark alley complete with Child-Molester van.



Pigeons!



Awesome graffiti found on our misadventure to nowhere near Sak's 5th Avenue. Mmmm Brian Molko.



Wallpapered ceilings at Roosevelt University.



That just so happen to have the same design as the badly carpeted floor.



And speaking of Bad Carpeting. The inside of the bus as we wait to leave the cold and dreary city.

I shouldn't be really all that surprised that this blog turned as personal as it did. I should've known that I wouldn't be able to keep up with the drabbles long enough to make it the whole semester. Ah well. Can't say I mind it really either.

Tomorrow, frostcicle and I are going to Chicago with the art department. I'm looking forward to it...sort of. It should be a fun trip, but you know with the weather the way it's been, I'm not really thrilled about going. At least not as thrilled as I had been before. I get the feeling we're going to spend a lot of it inside just hangin out wherevers. It'll be good to finally meet up with hikaru though.

Last night was mad hairdying fun, and there will be pictures later, because while I have my camera with me, I don't have my cable to connect it to the computer and it just sort of seems kind of pointless. I'm really quite tired at the moment which is sad as I know I got more than enough sleep. It's just...weird and annoying. I'm sure many of you know exactly what I'm talking about with this.

Expect a Voice Post tomorrow sometime live from Chicago. I know we've not gotten that far in the semester yet to get to talking about audio blogging, but I can't really resist the opportunity when it presents itself. It seems to me that the only time I can bring myself to throw up a voice post is when I'm out for a cigarette (which it's way too cold for these days so I suppose I should be glad for it), and well...when there's alcohol involved, but only because those usually end up being hilarious later. There was actually a great post that happened on New Year's, but it ended up getting not posted because of some error LJ had. Le sad, right?

Anyway, that's about all I've got in me at the moment. Off to do more homeworks!

I have finished my paper, but in finishing my paper, I've neglected to do my slightly more important home work for the other class I have today. Oh woe is me. Well, no not really. This was just a paper that I have to make off several copies for the class I have on Thursday and so in order to get free copies, must have it done by well today. It's complicated.

The assignment is as follows: What holy grail? What phantom limb? Often in our writing, in our life, or through the reflection within our writing on our own life, we experience a sense of something that is missing, something that is perhaps unnameable that we pursue. We may audition many substitutes on our quest to fulfill that longing or fill that empty 'god' space: people, professions, and activities of all sorts, posessions, places, even constructed personaes. We all find ' the way', 'the path', 'direction', 'meaning', etc in our own way. Sometimes we may find that the journey itself becomes the antidote to the great aloneness. Can you name the great hunger? What you have lost or never known that creates an absence in your life? How do you fill the void? Where or in what do you find happiness, contentment, fulfillment, spiritual well-being? Use these comments and questions as a prompt, write a piece that either renders an account of search or quest that explores a kind of longing or absence. This can be a work of any genre including fiction and need not reflect your personal experience. (Group two bring enough copies for the whole class. 20 people)

I swear, I don't know why I registered for this course anymore. I really don't.

For the handful of you that I don't spend time with on a regular basis, my social life revolves around a certain table in terrace in the Union. Not a certain table per se, but a certain set of tables by a pillar that are almost always pushed together unless the Union workers have decided that it would be a good time to separate them. Generally, they leave them alone though, because it's become apparent over the past year and a half that we're just going to push them back anyway. It's sort of peaceful here at the moment with the terrace nearly empty and no interlopers at the table. As much as I'd like company, I'm enjoying this peace and quiet for a change. Maybe it's just because I have a computer in front of me or because the rest of the terrace is just as quiet, but there you have it. I first came to the Table a year and a half ago through a girl by the name of Stephanie (lady_utena on LJ). There I met Adam and Ben and soon after Peter, Adrian, Jeremy and the rest of the lot. It was a strange sort of acceptance. The kind where I didn't have to prove myself as much as I thought I would, but rather was just welcomed with open arms into this pre-established family of sorts. I never thought I'd end up hanging out with people who were graduates of Wisconsin Lutheran High School. It's sort of funny now that I think about it, a baptized Lutheran but practicing agnostic hanging out with people who, presumably, religion is an important part of life to. I'm not the most moral person in the world, so sometimes when I actually sit back and think about it, it kind of intimidates me, because I know that I do things (from time to time) that my friends wouldn't approve of. But, you know, it does wonders to just have them there. I'm grateful for each and every one of them even when we do get into little scrappy arguments about petty stuff.
I don't say it enough, either, and I think that's what spawned this update. It's gotten to the point where my family life has gotten so rough and tumble lately that the people I view more as family than the ones I live with are sitting here with me four days out of the week. Sometimes that scares me, ya know. I'm too used to isolating myself that I wonder if I've actually forgotten what it is to be with other people. Just like as much as I would like company here right now, it's peaceful by myself. It's a delicate balance, at least for me it is.
None of these are really stories lately, just rambling, but it's something isn't it?
There are a lot of things I try to do for my friends, but by far the hardest has been quitting smoking. It's not working. As hard as I try, all I can think about is when I can fanagle away to get a cancer stick without getting caught by Peter or Adrian or anyone at the Table. I won't be the first to admit that I'm addicted, because I am. It's not like I go through a pack a day or anything, but more like I just need one to calm down and face the world. This week...has been so hard because I've only had one since yesterday and I'm not sure how to manage it. Part of it is because I haven't got the money for such a habit right now, and won't until Friday, but it would help if I had a little bit of nicotine in my system too, ya know? Well, no, maybe you don't know, but well trust me on it. Feeling this way sort of makes me feel like I've failed my friends in the promise I made them that I'd try. Yeah, I've tried, but I've tried and failed because all I want is a stupid cigarette.
It could be worse, I suppose. It could be any number of harder drugs and I could be living on the street or pawning everything I own. But it's not worse, and it's hard to imagine the reality of 'worse' when you're living in such a state of intense desire that you can hardly focus on anything else. It's like when you're a kid and you don't finish your supper and your parents tell you that there are starving children in Asia that would love to have your leftovers. It could be worse, but unless you see or are that starving kid, it doesn't quite process. So, yeah, it's not coke or heroin or anything like that. It's just a cigarette, but still the pull is there and I don't know how much longer I can resist it.
Any tips out there? At all?

I have writer's block. Now, I've had a lot of suggestions for remedies about this and they're all great in their own ways, but it's like curing hiccups. None of them seem to work. You can down a spoonful of sugar and still end up twitching in your seat trying not to disturb people with the incessent almost burping noise.

You can tell me to write all you want and I'll still end up sitting here staring at an open box with a prompt in front of me going "...now what?" Everything is ready, ya know, and suddenly bam, whatever you write just turns out like crap. Crap! >.< It's le annoying, because as much as I want to do these assignments, I don't want to put crap out there. Which is, I suppose, also really quite subjective when you come down to it, but that sentence made no sense in comparison to the rest of the writing. So maybe I'm just rambling in order to help get this stupid writer's block out. It is, in fact, what Dr. S told me to do, but I'm not sure if it's helping. Writing about writer's block. How utterly paradoxical is that? Is that even a word? Ah well. It is now.

frostcicle and I went and saw Hannibal Rising the other day, and this is actually relevant because not a few minutes ago, Dr. S was talking about how he wrote his dissertation on cannibalism. Worst movie, ever. Go see it. No, seriously. It's hilarious in its craptacular-ness. Hi-larious. The whole theatre was laughing when we probably ought to have been creeped out. Sadly. We were not. Well, in some parts we were, Frost and I, but most of it was just...funny. Not what you want from something that is supposed to explain what the heck is up with Lecter in Silence of the Lambs.

In that same vein, we watched The Departed on Saturday...I think. Yeah, Saturday. And it was one of those movies when I had no idea where the lead, in this case Mssr. DiCaprio, learned how to act or when they actually became say...a man and not just someone with "boyish good looks", but boy did I appreciate it. I think I may have to go see The Aviator and Gangs of New York (he was in that, wasn't he? I know I have IMDB right at my fingertips, but you know...effort and I don't want to ruin the train of update I've got going right now) just for well...perhaps more hot? It's sad that that's pretty much all my movie going experiences revolve around, which pretty face is in them this time. I admit, Gaspard Ulliel was the sole reason I wasted a gift card on Hannibal, but DiCaprio won't be the reason I drop $30 on this film because it was, in short, amazingly amazing.

Also, Pan's Labyrinth pwns all.

The end.

Title: The Weather Effects My Knee
Prompt: I remember... (again)
Genre/POV: Fiction/First
Rating: PG13 for implied sexual relationships
Word Count: 520

I remember when I used to go out to the bar at night. When we used to have drinks and talk. You had your whiskey on the rocks, and I took my rum and coke the same way. That late at night, it was almost always just us left there. I remember the conversations, the sound of your voice when you had some new important tidbit of information from me. Most of all, I remember your laugh, your smile.

Those are the images that stay with me.

I remember you coming over with pie. Pie of all things when you knew I hated it. But you were worried. We both were worried. I was just too scared to admit it. I remember that you ate the pie, all of it. I don't even know what flavor it was, but it sat in my fridge for a week and every day you came and had a piece and helped me clean up from my mistakes.

I remember when you announced that you were getting married. I tried to be happy for you, hoped that you were too happy on your own to notice my fake smile. I felt like I was losing my best friend. I wish you would've punched me in the jaw then too just so I would've stopped being stupid.

I remember when your daughter was born. I remember you calling me, before you even called your parents, to boast. "She's beautiful," you said. "Of course," I replied. "She's yours."

I remember the night you died. I had just talked to you on the phone, just heard your voice and was getting there as fast as possible. I remember getting the news. I remember hearing that you were dead. Found shot in the chest on the street and the last phone number he'd dialed was to my office. I remember going to the bar that night. I remember needing a drink, needing to meet you there. I could only stand outside the door and stare.

I don't remember her name. I don't remember her face or her body type or the way she smelled. I don't even remember the sex. I do remember the name on my lips when I came, and the extra tip I gave her, because I wasn't about to subject some innocent young thing to my grief.

What I remember most is the funeral. I remember the look your wife gave me while she and your daughter were leaving. Hatred. Jealousy. I remember standing at your headstone and knowing that I really had lost my best friend. That you were gone forever. I wanted to dig you up as much as your little girl did. I wanted to scream and cry and dig up all the old research that you'd made me burn in the first place. I wanted to cave to temptation and risk losing everything, not for some people killed in a war I had no choice but to fight but..because...I wanted you back.

Now I drink at home, alone in front of your picture.
With a glass of Whiskey on the Rocks waiting for you to come back to it.

Title: Twelve
Prompt: Last Tuesday
Genre/POV: fiction - first
Rating: PG
Word Count: 130

Last Tuesday never happened. Did you know that? The world skipped straight from Monday to Wednesday. It was kind of weird, you know, but nobody seemed to notice. They just kept on going with their week as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
There were rumors of an alien attack, but nobody said anything.
The guy on the news remarked that the week seemed to be going awfully quickly, but then he just shrugged it off and threw it out to the meteorologist to tell us what was going to happen this Tuesday.
I wonder what happened.
Did we just hiccup and away went Tuesday?
I hope that doesn't happen again.
That could be painful.
Well, I suppose there's nothing we can do about it, but look out for Wednesday.

Today is Wednesday, isn't it?

Title: Somewhere a clock is ticking
Prompt: Hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Years.
Genre/POV: Fiction. 3^rd
Fandom: Torchwood. Post-Diane Owen. For empathicfrost even though it wasn't requested. ;)
Rating: PG-7
Word Count: 814
Warnings: Put under a cut for Spoilers for Torchwood episodes 1.10 and 1.13

( Somewhere, a clock is ticking... )