I see dead phones

So. Ow, still.

Also, our home phone service is dead, again. This has happened about a dozen times in the past couple of months. No dial tone on either phone. Just... dead. We've got the Comcast package of cable, internet and phone, but only the phone is constantly dying. Since last night, I've spoken separately with three articulate, intelligent representatives who all believe that the main problem is shitty wiring in the house, which may be why the phones just keep dying randomly, and that's the reason they can't work with the modem over the phone. And they're booked until next Monday or Friday, which means that either Adam will need to figure out the wiring himself, or we'll have to wait a week before a service rep can come to the house. Because Adam won't be home until Monday and it may be too late for a service call then.
Thank gods for cell phones, you know?
I see absolutely no point in getting angry with Comcast. The representatives I spoke to were polite, kind, gentle, understanding, and concerned. It's not their fault that the service people are so booked. They admitted they couldn't do anything without my having full access the actual modem hookup. I admitted that I couldn't physically reach the modem, because my husband has it hanging from a wall behind a file cabinet. I can barely reach the main power cord, let alone look at the back of the modem. Even if I were to take the modem down and put it on top of the cabinet, I still am not tall enough to actually look at it. The second rep I spoke to, a sweet, lively man with a Southern accent, suggested that upon my husband's return home, we consider relocating the modem to someplace I can actually reach. *pokes Adam*

In conclusion: If you need to call me, call my cell phone. If you call my house you'll just get voicemail (I can access my home phone's voicemail from my cell).

Yes, I'm Talking Politics. Shut Up.

I never thought I'd be defending a politician I can't stand, but this bears repeating.
Ya know that "book list" that Sarah Palin supposedly wants banned? It's making the rounds online and enraging people, but, see, here's the funny thing: It's not real. (See numbers 40 to 43) It's a fake list. Most of those books were published after her time in office when she would have called for the ban.
Yes, I know, it all looks real, and it angers a lot of you. It would piss me off too, if it was true. A lot of what Palin stands for pisses me off, but I see no reason to believe everything that people say about her. Okay? Okay.
Let me repeat that, in case someone wants to yell at me: I. Don't. Like. Palin's. Politics. But I am not going to go crying over something as ridiculous as many of the rumors on that website. No, I don't think said website is the most awesome, wonderful thing ever. But it's better than a lot of the stuff I've been seeing, which is starting to feel like a bunch of urban legends.
Guys, I love you all. But please please please check your facts. Not everything you read and hear about politicians and authority figures is true. This goes for Palin, Biden, McCain, Obama, Lrr From The Planet Omicron Persei 8, Morbo, The Doctor, The Master, the Goa'uld, the Tok'ra, the Ori, Dr. Phlox, and the Vulcans.
I just want to be informed. This is me being informed. So, if you want to debate and argue, go ahead, but I'd rather look at the whole story and decide if I should hate Palin based on rumors or on truth.
And those of you who know me also know that I really hate talking about politics. And I am neither conservative nor liberal. So for me to post an entry like this is serious, for me, personally. Got it?
Okay, then.
This is me shutting up now.

EDIT: Also? I won't be responding to comments that want to start arguments. If you give me links and such, I'll read them and form my own opinion. And see, there's a funny word: Opinion. Everyone has one. But make sure that your opinion is not the only truth out there, 'kay? I know what I personally think. You don't have to tell me.
Seriously, I love you, but I'm gonna step out of any shouting matches.

Yes, grammar bitching. Shush.

Something else that bears repeating.
http://www.linguaguide.com/articles/36/1/Whats-right-The-most-common-grammatic-mistakes-in-English-Pronouns/Page1.html

On a random television interview, some middle-aged actress said, "He went with my friend and I." And I almost cried. Because, see, Grammar, Ur Doin' It Wrong.

People are so worried about how to properly apply "me" and "I" in various possessive contexts that they're constantly misplacing them anyway. What annoys me is that people who knew the correct contexts years ago no longer know them today, because the mistakes are so commonplace.

I'm also seeing the very upsetting loss of plurals when it comes to words ending in Y. The suffix "-ies" seems to be dying slowly. Now, we have the "apostrophe S" invasion. Berries become berry's. Stories become story's. Skies become sky's. You get the point. Oh, I beg that you get the point.
Pretty soon, the Apostrophe Esses will have slaughtered all the Suffix Eees and set up camp over the graves. We should campaign to, I dunno, save the Suffix Eees or something. But I'm lazy. I'm almost ready to say, "Fuck it all, the future of grammar and vocabulary is changing anyway. I mean, they're publishing adult fiction novels in which characters say and think acronyms like OMG and WTF and BFF. At least we old grammar whores can gather in secret meetings in dark underground bunkers and read passages from the sacred texts of the Chicago Manual of Style and The Elements of Style and the Oxford Dictionary. By LED-powered candlelight."

Yeah, I'm being a bitch. *middle finger*

Don't mind me. Lots of things are irritating the fuck out of me today. I'm still aggravated about my dead phone service, after all, and it's all just snowballing.

But, hey, weekend.

Shiny Writerbrain Is Shiny

Aww. My writerbrain exploded again.

I got stuck in Chapter 18 again, and then at lunch I was reading Justine Musk's Lord Of Bones and thinking about a particular plot point in my own novel, and then an idea struck my writerbrain and the writerbrain exploded and began gibbering, flailing, and flooding the rest of my brain with Lots of Words and Fantastic Concepts and New Ways To Screw With The Characters and Hey Let's Do This It'll Be Fun.
I'm gathering up the pieces and will put them back together when I get home. Then I'll give my writerbrain a soothing mug of rooibos tea and a kitten, and get to writing.

I have all weekend.

This should be good.

Oooh, the pieces are sparkly...

Whisper

Oh.
That's what it is.

See... for a few days after a seizure, I become paranoid. I become paranoid and irritable and moody and terrified of everything. I hide it well; sometimes even I can't figure out there's anything wrong. But then it hits again, and, well...
I'm all alone, with the cats, watching the Stargate Atlantis episode Whispers (which I swear must have been directly inspired by those Silent Hill games), waiting for Jason to come home and Megan to come over, and Adam isn't answering his phone, all I get is voicemail, and I really just need to hear his voice.
And holy hell those Wraith hybrid zombie creatures are scary, gah. Seriously, don't watch this episode at night.

*pokes kitten*
*kitten mewls*
Aww, kitten.

Update: Adam is on AIM. Good.