Elizabeth Culmer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edenfalling) wrote2004-04-15 08:46 pm
edenfalling) wrote2004-04-15 08:46 pm
Entry tags:
general stuff
Went shopping today, to the mall. I was going to walk down to the Commons, but as my not-quite-sixty-yet jacket (otherwise known as my raincoat) has a gaping hole under the right arm, I put that off for tomorrow. I can get to the mall via bus, which does not require me to wear a weather-suitable jacket.
I had to go to the mall soon anyway, as I was nearly out of pads. I've been using them in lieu of tampons since I've been on the pill, which is in many ways a pain, as they tend to smell more. There are times I really hate being female.
Anyway, I also managed to get two nice shirts, a pack of new underwear -- which Target finally had in my size, my prefered style, and decent colors -- and two bras. I hate feminine shopping. It's embarrassing, and bras are mostly ugly as sin, horrendously frilly and itchy, really skanky, or all three at once. Or they're padded. I loathe padded bras. I have become resigned to the necessity of underwires, but I draw the line at padded support. Blecch.
Took a stab at starting chapter 7 of Secrets this afternoon, and it went decently. It's kind of hard to slip back into the mindset of an eleven year old Ginny Weasley, though, after spending quite a few months writing about adults. On the other hand, I get to put forward various theories about the wizarding world via Tom, whom I both love and loathe as a character, mostly because he's so easy to write. Which is nice, since I don't have to worry about him all the time, but is kind of disturbing since he's, well, the kind of person who can cold-bloodedly kill a girl and have no regrets whatsoever. I don't like being able to think like him.
On the other hand, perhaps it's not so surprising that his mind is an easy read. He's very direct, once you get past the screwy justifications and such: he has a goal, and he goes after it. No scruples involved.
Then again, he's all layers upon layers, particularly since he's playing a good guy at the moment, while subtly leading Ginny away from any means of support...
Oh, bother it all. When I've hit the point of sympathizing with Tom for having to put up with Ginny, I know it's time to stop writing for a bit. Because this is Ginny's story, not his! I have a different snippet to work on when I'm channeling almost-sympathetic!Tom. (That one is showing distinct signs of developing into Tom/Harry slash of all things, but it won't be anywhere near ready for public viewing for ages.)
I had to go to the mall soon anyway, as I was nearly out of pads. I've been using them in lieu of tampons since I've been on the pill, which is in many ways a pain, as they tend to smell more. There are times I really hate being female.
Anyway, I also managed to get two nice shirts, a pack of new underwear -- which Target finally had in my size, my prefered style, and decent colors -- and two bras. I hate feminine shopping. It's embarrassing, and bras are mostly ugly as sin, horrendously frilly and itchy, really skanky, or all three at once. Or they're padded. I loathe padded bras. I have become resigned to the necessity of underwires, but I draw the line at padded support. Blecch.
Took a stab at starting chapter 7 of Secrets this afternoon, and it went decently. It's kind of hard to slip back into the mindset of an eleven year old Ginny Weasley, though, after spending quite a few months writing about adults. On the other hand, I get to put forward various theories about the wizarding world via Tom, whom I both love and loathe as a character, mostly because he's so easy to write. Which is nice, since I don't have to worry about him all the time, but is kind of disturbing since he's, well, the kind of person who can cold-bloodedly kill a girl and have no regrets whatsoever. I don't like being able to think like him.
On the other hand, perhaps it's not so surprising that his mind is an easy read. He's very direct, once you get past the screwy justifications and such: he has a goal, and he goes after it. No scruples involved.
Then again, he's all layers upon layers, particularly since he's playing a good guy at the moment, while subtly leading Ginny away from any means of support...
Oh, bother it all. When I've hit the point of sympathizing with Tom for having to put up with Ginny, I know it's time to stop writing for a bit. Because this is Ginny's story, not his! I have a different snippet to work on when I'm channeling almost-sympathetic!Tom. (That one is showing distinct signs of developing into Tom/Harry slash of all things, but it won't be anywhere near ready for public viewing for ages.)