sgafic: how to let go

I would like to thank Texas mold and my new allergy medication for a really strange night of almost sleep, almost awake, and a dim crossover hallucination of Star Wars by way of Stargate Atlantis. In a way that I will never discuss except to say, no. Ronon is not the equivalent of a wookie. I mean, he *could be*? But not like that. Dear God, not like that.

But. Moving on.

I write *different* in zohowriter. It's all--*waves hands*--different.

So trying something--er, else--with Strangerverse. John POV, set after What You Can't Leave Behind, fairly short--I don't know. To me, it feels different, but I can't quite quantify how. Like I'm a half-inch off my normal writing self.

Right. Crazy talk. I'm cool with that. See? So not freaking out that half of it was written in Verdana ten point font and the rest with the *memory* of which parts were written in Verdana ten point font. God. No words.

Anyway, Strangerverse #7, all earlier parts up on my site now here or under the tag here.

( how to let go )

sudoku

...

Oh. So that's what sudoku is.

Sometimes, there's a real danger that if enough of my flist took up crack, I'd probably do it too.

Just a question. Are you supposed to suddenly believe your life has no meaning if you can't beat the hard one in under seven minutes? I'm just saying, being on the verge of tears when it hits seven oh one is a little disconcerting.

This is brought to you from hell. I'm going to go--*points*--try again. I might cry.