well, it's nanowrimo...

...and pretty much everything I feel is important about it, I'm talking about on Twitter, Facebook, and Unstressed Syllables (search for nanowrimo to find my articles). But, to update in briefest fashion: I'm having a blast, I'm ahead of schedule, my demon zombies are being just as hideous as they should be, my main character is being perfectly snarky, and my first villain is on-scene and in fine fettle.

I'll be blogging NaNoWriMo periodically throughout the month, so keep tuning in -- but check FB, Twitter, and UnSyl for everything current. In the meantime, I leave you with the following quotes I noted at the NaNoWriMo 2010 Kickoff Party:

"It’s funny, because I think I’m eating cheese, but I’m really drinking coffee."
--Becca

"I don’t consider myself a squeamish housewife."
--Aaron

"That won’t make your readers want to stab you in the face."
--Sean

"I’m actually a bard. They don’t have a level for me yet."
--JT

"There are penises in this book."
--Jessie

drug-induced mumblings

I need to blog more.

The truth of that statement shines with appalling clarity.

Which sounds like a line from a poem containing bad philosophy.

It might have originated with the Benadryl I took about an hour ago because I'm having some kind of bizarre allergy attack that manifests itself in tiny, stinging blisters all over my face. This has happened several times already this year, and it's driving me insane. At first, I thought it was an allergy to blueberries--but I haven't had those in six months. I have yet to identify a common denominator in these blistering (hahaha) attacks. In the meantime, I'm eating Benadryl for the first time in about eleven years.

So far, it's served only to make me slightly loopy. The itching and stinging and blistering continue.

In other news, NaNoWriMo approacheth apace. It's 7 weeks and 1 day away, and I am already crazy excited. I'll be working on the third book in what I'm calling my "demons trilogy." The first two novels are Colors of Deception and Shadows After Midnight, each written from the point-of-view of a different character. For this third novel, I already know who the POV character will be, and I've already written the first scene in my head. I want sooooooooo badly just to type it all out already...but if I do, it won't count toward the requisite 50k. And I want it to count.

I also want it to be November 1st ***NOW***.

*sigh*

To continue the stream of Benadrylled consciousness:

Aaron wants me to paint the cover art for his fantasy novel.

Bryan wants me to paint a mashup of Firefly and Star Wars.

I painted the first of three self-portraits not for public consumption.

Over the last few months, I've written some incredibly bad poetry and one really good poem.

Over the last 8 months, I have completely changed what I once wbelieved about publishing and copyright.

Over the last 9 months, I have changed much of what I once believed about "church" and "worship," and it has been incredibly liberating.

I almost typed "liverating" instead, which would have been unfortunate, because I loathe liver.

I like my own liver, though. It serves me well. But I love -- I really love -- my pancreas.

I'm glad Weird Al wrote a song about his pancreas instead of his prostate, because that would just be awkward.

I just decided that Bendaryl is my friend. You hear that, Benadryl people? I totally endorse your product. You read it here first!

I have a lot of really cramazing friends and family. They all restore my faith in the inherent worth of humanity, and the mere fact of their existence bolsters my faith in God.

I have become a Tweeter.

I talk to people in movies as though they could hear me.

There are a lot of really kooky people on the Internet; I like to think I'm not one of them

I think the Benadryl is winning. More later.

once again: searching for courtney

Yesterday's hype about searching for one's own name in an online dictionary (a practice now known as "urbaning," if you must know) made me get curious to Google my name again. (If you wanna read my other "Courtney" posts, do a search at the top of this page.) For your chuckling pleasure:

1. Courtney is a common given name, derived from an English surname.

2. Courtney is a rock musician and actress. I think we all saw that one coming.

3. Courtney is an award-winning author. YEAH BABY.

4. Courtney custom cycles. She'll cycle however you want, if you pay in her chocolate!

5. Courtney: drop-dead gorgeous. Oh, we are SO into humility these days. ;oD

6. Courtney is the prime example of why you should never do drugs, kids. Take heed, ye foolish, ye hapless and misguided!

7. Courtney: All Rights Reserved. Stop your infringing, and I mean it!

8. Courtney: I'm not a girl. Um. Except when I am.

9. Courtney, just entering the professional arena, is treated as a supercilious young starlet. And she has to look up words to define herself, too.

10. Courtney's house is a non-profit organization. That's for strawberry-torting sure. ;o)

because it made me giggle

...and I can see me cooing to squash, too. ;o)

_____________

"It's going to be cold and windy tonight," Anne said that afternoon as we stood in the kitchen and contemplated dinner.

"It's cold and windy right now," I said.

"Yes. That's how I know it's going to be cold and windy tonight. It feels like fall, so I want to make something hearty for dinner."

"Something Autumnal?" I said.

"Um..."

"Something that screams HARVEST!" I said, punctuating the word with jazz hands.

"Sure. Whatever. Let's make some soup with that squash you bought yesterday."

I picked the squash up off the counter and cradled it in my arms like it was a baby. "Do you want to be soup? Do you want to be soup?! I bet you'd be a delicious soup! Yes you would! Yes you would! Yummy, yummy soup!"

Anne and I have been together for 14 years, married for just a few weeks shy of 10 of those years, and it wasn't until that moment that I learned just how much she doesn't like it when people use baby talk with squash. (So just keep in mind, kids: even when you're old like we are, and you've been together for something in the neighborhood of 5000 days, there are still exciting new things to discover about each other.)

--Wil Wheaton


FYI, Mr. Wheaton's blog contains language of the unwashed, unrinsed variety. You have been forewarned.

courtney in 2010

I Googled the above in order to find out what my life will be in the year 2010--at least, according to the Internet. Here are ten results that best translated into predictions (minus all Courtney Love references, kthx):

Courtney in 2010

1. Courtney at the Pittsburgh Combine.
Sha-boom.

2. Courtney in Congress.
Scary!

3. Courtney won't run for governor.
Of course not. I'll be in Congress. Duh.

4. Courtney is excited to start working with you!
Hopefully, you is a literary agent. ;o)

5. Courtney advances to the state competition, set in January.
Eh?

6. Courtney is going to do awesome things!
You betcha!

7. Courtney would like to pack up her car and drive your way and sing in your town.
I'm game. Absolutely. Let's book it!

8. Courtney's future will probably include more school and hopefully some traveling and writing as well.
Odds bodkins, you better believe it!

9. Courtney is touring Australia from January 8th to February 15th!
THIS IS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER.

10. Courtney is not gonna talk as much.
Oh. Bummer.

Wait.

That's cuz I'ma be writin', fool!


2010 is gonna be an exciting year. CRAMAZING!!! ;oD

crazy english redux

Originally blogged April 9, 2006; decided to unearth it for entertainment purposes.

No languages were harmed in the making of this blopgost. CAVEAT EMPTOR: The use of adverbs abounded.

The following bits of great literature came into being on the Oklahoma Christian University "Singing Campaign" of June 2001. Several of us were playing a language game in which each player contributes a part of a sentence without knowing what the other players are contributing. As in:

Player A contributes a subject ("The handcuffs"),
Player B contributes a verb ("gargled"),
Player C contributes an object ("pimentos"),
and Player D contributes an adverb ("symbiotically").

Players may add other adverbs, adverbial phrases, adjectives, and so forth, as long as the structure of the sentence remains intact. Here are some sentences that came together in strange ways on that starlit night so long ago:

A blunt elephant awakens delicately.

4,000,362 slimy heifers bebop coke repeatedly.

The juicy squirrels rang manure radically.

Some magical Martians snorted river cautiously.

Your mama’s shrunken sludge dances vomit lovingly.

The Saran-wrapped amoeba strangled fever blisters.

Its unwilling dough wore pimples authoritatively.

Mike’s infected Thumbelina impaled puppies slowly.

My swollen blue suede shoes defecated coconuts.

April’s peanut butter jar beheld toxic waste creepingly.

With blackest moss, the other Deutschmark stabbed Romanoffs with ease.

Thy radical snot gulped hamsters alluringly.

Rupert’s clairvoyant slug plucked tongues boldly.

Satan’s slutty cheese cake slurped turtles on the highest rooftops.

Surprisingly enough, our milky busts curtsied pustules right on task.

Tomorrow, flamboyant lace will flatulate kabobs happily.

Russia’s flat hairballs created toilet tingling.

The parole violators’ amazed horny toad blew rafters with great linguistic skill.

On the poop deck, our objective booty crushed dried linguini like a goose in heat.

Eight crunchy handkerchiefs serenade egg drop soup like redneck Olympics.

With the absolute possibility, spoonlike cowboys cut snot rockets while smelling like a stinky tube sock.

Unbeknownst to us, many underground headless horsemen slammed bellybutton lint so well, it would’ve made you cry.

Like sands in the hour glass, strikingly handsome mold slaughtered jazz hands while dancing like a 5-year-old on purple crack.

--April Wooldridge Everhart, Courtney Cantrell, Matt Barger, Mike Antwine, and others, June 2001.

mafias gnawn thru...

...or: fun with anagrams.

Today, I wrote a poem for which I required anagrams, so I spent several hours playing around with this online anagram generator. From said generator, I derived a grey jot--I mean, great joy. I thought you all might receive a similar jaunty of moo amount of joy, so here are a few of the anagrams I came across today. Feel free to interpret at will!

thyroidal woof
holy woo, adrift
wily foot hoard
Hen with eatables!
I linger on mops, yet.
some wise fatheads
fatheads meowing
antisera de-fog
magenta shrews
tame hogness
tea theism (I think I am becoming a believer.)
A seventh moo howled!
I linger on my pesto.
Seesaw thongs mow. (Oh dear.)

Thus ends the fungi wash mantra. Tune in next week for another rousing round of A Ham Fig Nun Warts!

Sincerely Yours,

None Any Cuter ;o)

ghosts of blopgosts past

Whilst happily imbibing my coffee this morning, I herumgestöbert (there has got to be a good English word for that!) in my blog and found the following gems for your potential perusing pleasure:


Monday, November 21, 2005

When I should be writing, I'm procrastinating and finding fun things on other people's blogs, like this fun thing I found on Patricia's blog:

___________________________

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic

Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few.
But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky.

Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski
___________________________

Of those three movies, I've only seen "Office Space," and though it's funny, it's not one of my favorites. I guess my life is a cult classic with all the profanity bleeped out of it.

Actually, that's pretty accurate. ;o)


Tuesday, December 27, 2005

....At the end of October, Ed, Clint, April, and I were driving to Dresden (this was back B.C.S.--Before Car Selling), and we started talking about what a movie of our lives would be like.

First, we decided that nobody would go see it. Then, we decided it would be a blockbuster. (Anybody remember what title we decided on?) And finally, talk turned to which actors would portray us. We came up with the following:

Clint: Jack Black
April: Courteney Cox
Ed: Adam Sandler
Me: Drew Berrymore

What do you think???

oh, and by the way...

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE.

Need I say more? ;oD

my first ever post about a professional sport

Ed and I went to tonight's Thunder game. This was only the second time I've ever been to a professional basketball game, and I have to say that the first game a few months ago was more enjoyable than the second. Tonight, the refs stopped the game so often, it was as though somebody had a big remote control somewhere and kept hitting "pause." :oP But Jennifer, Andy, and Joel were there, so we made up in silly fun-ness for what the game lacked in continuous excitement. ;o) And I really enjoyed the extreme dunking guys during halftime!

On the way back our cars after the game, Jennifer and I spotted something funny-odd. In the sidewalk were two rectangular metal plates, about the size of a regular sheet of paper. Embossed on both plates was the following:

NO TRESPASSING

ECLIPSE BLOW-OFF

Quoi? How could anybody trespass beneath the sidewalk? The plates weren't really large enough to allow access to any adult human with a pelvis and collar bones. And "eclipse blow-off"? I'm assuming it's not a "Twilight" reference. ;o) Do the plates blow off the sidewalk if there's an eclipse? Are we supposed to blow off the eclipse if one happens?

I'm having visions of little metal plates all over the city, exploding into the air at the first sign of the moon's edging over into the sun's territory.

This world is not short on oddities.

interesting music

If this were a Facebook status update, it would read as follows:

Courtney thinks you should check out the links below to listen to the musical artistry of one Zoe Keating. She does this really cool thing with a cello and playbacks of her own various riffs. I don't have a clue how to describe it clearly; you'll just have to go listen and watch...

...here and here and also here.

oooh, a p.s. before bedtime

This year's Christmas presents, just for fun:

* "The Children of Hurin" by J.R.R. Tolkien (posthumously published)
* Mama's gray sweater, which is over 40 years old and which I've wanted since I was a kid
* earrings
* knit cap
* calendar of Chemnitzer pics
* comforter set, new pillows, sheets--our bed looks so pretty now!
* jar of Grandma's hot pepper jelly
* gift card to Kohl's
* yearly Christmas tree ornament (my parents have given me one every year of my life)

* and a well-needed reminder that most of the world didn't get any Christmas presents.

I am thankful for God's blessings.

Anybody like to share presents or thankfulnesses?

courtney needs...

I Googled "Courtney needs," left out the lists other Courtneys throughout the world have posted on their blogs, and came up with:

1. Courtney needs a little help.
2. Courtney needs to lay off the plastic.
3. Courtney needs a new camera.
4. Courtney needs some love. (Awwwww....)
5. Courtney needs a parent. (No surprise there... ;o)
6. Courtney needs to be cleaned up.
7. Courtney needs something more.
8. Courtney needs to gain a perspective. (Which one?)
9. Courtney needs to get treatment. (Oooh, news flash!)
10. Courtney needs a bit more help. (Ha! Bookends!)

And, since I know Ed won't do this, and I find it amusing, here's his list (with his permission!):

1. Ed needs a Hummer. (That's a matter of opinion!)
2. Ed needs a miracle.
3. Ed needs to know about it.
4. Ed needs an IT Policy Task Force. (Don't we all?!)
5. Ed needs attention. (Oooooh, pick me, pick me! ;o)
6. Ed needs a break. (I second the motion.)
7. Ed needs support.
8. Ed needs disclosure. (Eh?)
9. Ed needs more good years.
10. Ed needs your help.

Apparently, Ed and I are in need of assistance. Any volunteers? ;oD

I've been NaNoing. Long story short, November is National Novel Writing Month, during which writers commit to writing a 50,000 word novel from Nov. 1st-30th. All of my writing energy has been going into my NaNo, which is why my blog has suffered. However, I decided to stick something fun in here tonight before I call it a day.

In order to check my current word count at nanowrimo.org, I encrypted my novel before sending it through their online validator. (Microsoft Word tells me my word count is at 37203, but NaNoWriMo's validator claims I'm only at 36968. Oh well, eleven more days to add some extra padding on top of getting to 50k.) For fun, here's an excerpt from the encrypted text. Enjoy:

...Kallardra spollargglarpsop. “Seyke you would kpollaw, Mbuzzss BUZZ Seyve BUZZn Glde Seyt Departmallart Busbuzzness Bubuzzldbuzzng. BUZZs buzzt gglarpso late gglarps add cluises?”

“’Course pollat, dist, buzzt’s glde fbuzzrst week of schois. What, you’re gofarna take up sbuzzngbuzzng, just seyke gldat?”

“Your mom’s a dist. Aild gldat’s what vobuzzce teechers are for. Gglarps teech sbuzzngbuzzng.”

“Your face,” Klufarnbuzzfer ailswerglarp.

“Chbuzzldrallar, chbuzzldrallar,” BUZZ murmurglarp, fbuzzghtbuzzng...

ahh, memories

Shortly after getting up this morning, I thought of this, and it made me laugh.

i heart linguistics

Today, I read a terrific thing in Craig Storti's "The Art of Coming Home". Apparently, in Kenya, there is a curse that goes something like this:

--Your mother was a chicken, so you had to suckle a cow.

I am quite gratified that in this topsy-turvy world, the universality of your-momma jokes remains comforting and constant.

It also reminds me of a German saying that doesn't translate so well but still retains great amusement value:

--I've already seen horses throw up in front of the pharmacy.

I see your blank stare, and I raise you one sampling of flabbergasted befuddlement. ;o)

pamcake puns--not for the faint of heart

Conversation during last weekend's Infamous Saturday Pamcake Breakfast at Sullivans', The Oklahoma Files:

Courtney: The older I get, the sicker I get anytime I go on amusement park rides. I used to love them, but now I can't handle them anymore.
Jennifer: That's because your vestibular system changes as you get older.
Courtney: My what?
Jennifer: Your vestibular system.
Courtney: I have a vestibular system?
Joel: Do you feel self-conscious now?
Courtney: Yeah, I do...I don't know if I want people looking at my vestibule.
Jennifer: Not vestibule, vestibular.
Pam: Is that Ferris's brother?

;oD

The International Friendship Song...

...courtesy of The Animaniacs and Professor Otto von Schnitzelpusskrankengescheitmeier

It's a wundervoll day in ze neighborhood, ja?
Now, let's do ze International Friendship Song, ja?

Ja!

Ist das nicht ein piece of chalk?
Ja das ist ein piece of chalk.
Ist das nicht ein key and lock?
Ja das ist ein key and lock.
Piece of chalk, key and lock
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

Are we having fun yet?

Ist das nicht ein cuckoo clock?
Ja das ist ein cuckoo clock.
Does it nicht go tick tick tock?
Ja it does go tick tick tock.
Cuckoo clock, tick tick tock
Piece of chalk, key and lock
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

You see, it's a very easy song. Would you like to try?
Oh, gee, professor, that'd be great! What should I sing about?
Anything that you want. The secret is to just have fun, okay?
Okay!

Ist das nicht ein piece of bread?
Ja das ist ein piece of bread.
Does it fit in Wakko's head?
Ja it fits in Wakko's head.
Piece of bread, Wakko's head
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

Here, let me try!

Is he not a cute man this?
Ja he is a cute man this.
Is this not a great big kiss? Mmmwah!
Ja das ist ein great big kiss.
Cute man this, great big kiss
Piece of bread, Wakko's head
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

Here, I've got one!

Ist das nicht Otto von Schnitzelpusskrankengescheitmeier?
Ja das ist Otto von Schnitzelpusskrankengescheitmeier.
Ist das nicht ein incredibly long name to have to try and say?
Ja das ist ein incredibly long name to have to try and say.
Cute man this, Great big kiss
Piece of bread, Wakko's head
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

Hey, you kids is pretty good!

We're just gettin' warmed up!

Ist das nicht ein Otto's gut?
Ja dis ist ein Otto's gut.
Ist das nicht ein Otto's butt?
Ja das ist ein Otto's butt.
Otto's gut, Otto's butt
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

Okay, I think you got the idea....

Ist das nicht ein pair of pants?
Ja das ist ein pair of pants.
Ist das underwear from France?
Ja dat's underwear from France.
Pair of pants, shorts from France
Otto's gut, Otto's butt
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

Ist das nicht ein hairy chest?
Ja das ist ein hairy chest.
Ist this man no longer dressed?
Ja this man's no longer dressed.
Hairy chest, he's not dressed
Pair of pants, shorts from France
Otto's gut, Otto's butt
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Oh, du schöne
Schnitzelbank!

froogality

FYI, I updated my Froogle Wish List, should you discover, deep within your soul, the burning desire to brighten my corner by spending money on li'l ol' me.

*grin*

ima hogg

Today's featured article on Wikipedia is about a woman named Ima Hogg. I find this highly amusing, because I've heard anecdotes about her for, like, ever, but I never believed she really existed.

So now, having perused the article, I sit amusedly corrected.

Enjoy!