Black Nail Polish

I really should have a tag for nail polish, since so many of my posts lately seem to be brought on by waiting for it to dry. Today it's black. I remember when black nail polish was completely badass, something only skids (Skids were what happened twenty years after Punks, ten years before Goths, fifteen before Emo kids) wore. Now, it's more Hmm, that's not as sparkly as your other nail polish. Anyway, I like it.

I've been at work for a little over an hour, just kind of hanging out, working on yet another story idea. I really ought to finish the millions of stories I've started, and I likely will finish at least a few before this one goes anywhere - I'm mostly just trying to get down everything that's in my brain, then it will stay in my lovely notebook until, one day when I'm going through said notebook, I go, "hmm. That was going to be a story."

I need to get containers and pack up all of my stuff that's at my parents' house, and it's just occuring to me now that one whole container will probably have to be devoted to my notebooks. I have a ridiculous number, upwards of fifty, and I don't see myself wanting to part with any of them - plus, most of them are full of story ideas and the very beginnings of some of my stories (which reminds me, I need to find the pic that sparked Aigaion Girl), and I don't want to lose those. Ugh. I'm such a packrat sometimes.

I'm sort of zoning out mid-blog, so maybe I'll cut this short. I may come back to it later, though; I still have another hand to paint.