Spent most of my first class hour this morning working myself into an anxiety snit over the whole job thing. I should know better than to look at Monster.com without chemical assistance. Nothing makes you feel smaller than seeing employers looking for stuff you don't know how to do. Then I got the bright idea to look under "entry level technical writer" and that helped a great deal. Of course NASA doesn't advertise on Monster. There's a government job website that they use. I calm myself by remembering we do have a job placement and career center here on campus. They will know what to do. I can do this. My biggest problem is that I get so scared of things that I don't even try. I have to remember that.

Well, I went to the NWGAA Star Party on Saturday night. Quite interesting, and a nice bunch of people. I finally got to look through a telescope. Several, actually. I saw Saturn - still an elongated pale dot even in the largest of the scopes, but after a few moments of looking I could see the gaps between the rings and the planet. I had quite a bit of time looking at the Moon, and what a beautiful sight -- a sliver, but boy could you see all those craters sharp as a knife. Looked at the Pleiades, and M42. All that space. Such magnificent emptiness. Now I want a telescope even more desperately. I still want to see Jupiter. And Mars. It's hard to remember I have to save as much money as I can. I can't use my income tax refund to get a telescope. A telescope is not going to get me out of this turkey town. Only money, a good resume and a portfolio full of my best writing is going to do that. When I'm settled again and making 50K a year, then I can blow a bucket of clams on such things.

And to think -- nothing between my eyes and all that I was looking at but billions of miles of space and a few lenses and mirrors. Remembering the Eye of the Beholder in Aquaria.

Still no word from Interzone. "Public Assistance" has been out something like 120 days now.

Still haven't sent "Shepherds" out again. I must at least send it to Asimov's. I'm off Friday, for some unknowable reason. So I'll do it then.


Did a little short thing for Stargate, sent it in to Area 52. Still working on the longer story for my friend who runs gendergibe.org, based (loosely) on that Loreena McKinnett song based on the "Highwayman" poem. I'm expecting the screams of frustration when I turn that one in to Area 52. The protagonist is a young Lieutenant who has a crush on Jack, based on the "Bess" character in the poem. Jack is the "Highwayman" of the poem. Jaffa for the Redcoats. And a hand grenade for the musket. Like I said, loosely based. So loose it rattles. But I hope it will work.

I seem to have this penchant for writing around Jack & Daniel and never actually write about them. This last little short thing starred General Hammond. Go figure. But who am I to deny a plot bunny.


Today is Valentine's. I shall be handing out candy tonight. The cute guy who inexplicably sat and talked to me while I was eating that barbeque sammich? He's kept doing stuff like that. He's still a cute guy. I'm still freaking, on the inside of course. You'd be amazed, the amount of screaming chimpanzees and Chinese fire drills what go on in my head. Further details as events warrant.

Excitable egrets eggregiously exiting, excepting elite extraneous elephants.