Friday Fribbles

My ancestry is pretty much a European hodge-podge of genetic stuff.  The family tree has branches from Italy, Scotland, Ukraine, England, and Slovakia.  But thanks to Maggie's recent trip, she's discovered that there is also a branch from Hungary.  The seriously cranky branch, specifically, and where my pout undoubtedly hails from.  See the proof she brought me...



It's only slightly disturbing.  Of course, I love her dress and I'm keen on the idea of having family ties to the artist, Munkacsy Mihaly.  I'm also keen on the idea that one day soon I'll meet The Doctor and have an adventure (carrying buckets?) in 19th century Hungary.

And in other Friday news, we've got two full stories up on Tangled Fiction for December and I can't decide which I like better.  Check out BETHLEHEM for some post-apocalypic holiday spirit and I ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU for something of a serious creepfest!  

I am different today than I was before

I've had long hair since I was born.* It hasn't always been touch my waist long, but always long enough to pull into a ponytail and more often than not, long enough to get caught in car doors and pick up stray animals. But about two weeks ago, I decided to try something different.

The need for change sort of sprang out of nowhere. I was walking along one day, perfectly content with the long locks, when inspiration attacked and the decision to cut was made. And just like that, I was done with the long hair.

Yesterday, it was as almost as long as it's even been with high school being the only time it ever got close to my hips. It was this long:

And then it was shorter and brighter...

I expected there to be more emotion involved with the snipping of 10 - 12 inches, but there wasn't. It was gone and I was chatting merrily along. My stylist set the first chunk of hair right in my lap and I just kept talking until Tessa stopped me with, "Do you realize what is happening right now?!"

It was a clear sign that it was high time for a change. And boy, oh, boy it is one....


Ta-da!

*Suspension of disbelief required here.

BUST*

*Some deadlines were harmed in the making of this post.

I had to release my self-imposed deadline to the winds sometime around Sunday. As I stood hip deep in my wip, I realized that in the process of making the whole thing better, I was making specific parts worse. That's when the hacksaw came out and words were flying into the recycle bin like there was no tomorrow. 

I don't have a final count for all that I cut, but it was easily more than 5k. So, I have something to show for all of those lattes, but it's not what I was hoping to have. But that's the way it goes.

BUT! On the topic of deadlines I *did* manage to meet, I have two finished products to present.

One - The November edition of the cello VLog, in which I discuss the relationship between the cello and Greek Myth (sort of).

&

Two - My first solo short story on Tangled Fiction. I'm thinking there should be a clever name for our solo stories like Not So Tangled Fiction or Loosely Tangled Fiction.  Okay, okay, in any case, it's up and here's a preview.

PROPHET

This is my curse: I will tell you your future, but you won’t believe me.

***

My apartment was tiny, which was why the trainer’s sharp knock sounded like a volcano erupting through my front door.

He was short and round and gruff, and he made no attempts at polite introductions. “You’re that prophet chick, yeah?” His voice was no surprise, shattered and coarse.