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On one hand, having a cookie auto delete extension is great, because it keeps my computer's temporary memory clean with almost no effort, on the other hand, it has a nasty habit of deleting my logins for stuff like Dreamwidth every time I close my browser. I swear I've tried fooling with the setting to white list this site, but I haven't quite figured it out yet.
Chapter twelve of where you belong has its third page a little over halfway done in the roller of my typewriter, and I plan to finish the rest of it before I go to bed tonight.
I keep forgetting how much fun typewriters are, even bad ones like my Chinese-knockoff of a Royal. The haptic feedback is great, and there's a certain satisfaction in seeing my paper getting slowly eaten by the roller as I type. Because you're physically smacking keys into it, the letters on your sheet end up a bit embossed, you can run your hand over them to feel your work.
While I know what I want this chapter to be, the way I want the next chapter to go is something I'm still very uncertain on. I have, optimistically, decided to just continue writing, and hope my future self will figure it out for me.
I want to do more doodling with ink - the kind of nothing serious drawing I dropped and only recently picked up again, but as it is, I only seem to have just enough oomph between work shifts to do one or two things before I tucker out, which unfortunately means I need to pick and choose among my hobbies.
It was another dim and rainy day, very seasonal, and pleasantly moody. I'm sure I'll get sick of it once the leaves fall and it really gets cold - I'm one of those people who's easily chilled, so even mild winters tend to be hard on me - but for now, it's still quite nice.
Chapter twelve of where you belong has its third page a little over halfway done in the roller of my typewriter, and I plan to finish the rest of it before I go to bed tonight.
I keep forgetting how much fun typewriters are, even bad ones like my Chinese-knockoff of a Royal. The haptic feedback is great, and there's a certain satisfaction in seeing my paper getting slowly eaten by the roller as I type. Because you're physically smacking keys into it, the letters on your sheet end up a bit embossed, you can run your hand over them to feel your work.
While I know what I want this chapter to be, the way I want the next chapter to go is something I'm still very uncertain on. I have, optimistically, decided to just continue writing, and hope my future self will figure it out for me.
I want to do more doodling with ink - the kind of nothing serious drawing I dropped and only recently picked up again, but as it is, I only seem to have just enough oomph between work shifts to do one or two things before I tucker out, which unfortunately means I need to pick and choose among my hobbies.
It was another dim and rainy day, very seasonal, and pleasantly moody. I'm sure I'll get sick of it once the leaves fall and it really gets cold - I'm one of those people who's easily chilled, so even mild winters tend to be hard on me - but for now, it's still quite nice.
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