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Rebelling machines

Dear Laptop,

what are you doing?? Clicking randomly everywhere by yourself and thus making it impossible for me to use the internet or writing anything is NOT funny. You might buy unwillingly expensive things or something like that... What, on the other hand, could be a brilliant plan and an excuse for... No. No no no.

Anyway, there's so much to do right now, business letters, bills, emails, a meme and kink drabbles! And maybe some people out there are missing my comments. ;)

So, please PLEASE prevent me from getting insane and get your act together once more (like you did several times before now during the last weeks).

Yours Choc

Posted via Vita for iPhone.

Wisdom of the Day

Since January, I've planned to update my journal regularly. Always, when I had no time or was too tired, I had the best ideas for entries and fics. Then, I had the time, but rejected all ideas - designed icons and written stuff were found to be 'not good enough'.

I gave it up for some weeks.
At the beginning of May we went on holiday and I planned to post finally after being back. But...same as always.

But I decided, now, each doubt is just wasted time . And trying to be 'perfect' - an old instilled (and sometimes annoying) habit of mine. Often useful, but occasionally just...blocking.


Last Friday, I went to hospital for an infusion therapy, once again. And well, I don't care about the few 'leisure time', being tired/sick/whatever, and about one-hand-typing and the darn doubts. I feel like writing.

And thus, I'll finish my long-planned next entry with an awful but so-true platitude:
'Don't let doubts and negative thoughts be your drive - cause life's too short to waste even a moment.'


So long, I have a date now with a delicious hospital dinner. *g*

My icons and me...

A week ago I started iconing - finally Photoshop and me became friends. ;)
And this is the outcome...




All constructive criticism welcome :)

Little Ficlet: Too bad...

Title: Too bad...
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Five/OFC, mention of her dog Ari
Summary: In a tent on NC. She loves to drive Five mad as frakking for rational cards requires punishment.


In the morning, when he dressed up, she still sat in bed covered with just the sheet and watched him.

„...this is where humanity ended up, frakking bad cloth-tasted cylons for food.“ she murmured with a sigh.

Good morning, Humanity...

„Don‘t like it?“ Five held up his tie he was knotting up carefully, salmon and tiny grey-green dots-patterned.

„No, wouldn‘t say it that way...“ she stretched out „..the color just reminds me of...“ she failed in holding back a mischievous grin.

He scanned her face.  Be rather carefull...

„Weeks ago Ari found some spoiled sea food scraps behind a market stall...“

„Are you telling me it looks like spoiled sea food?“ ...it would be so easy...

„No. But back home he became seriously sick and puked the whole night...“

„...I think I understand.“ Killing glance. ...my hand, your neck...

„However, it matches the teal blazer very well...“


She got up gracefully, the sheet slid down her well-defined curves leaving back her bare body.

Why can‘t you be able to resurrect...
                   

                           ~~~


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