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Guys. GUYS. I keep saying whole sentences that surely have never been said before. This is my life.

For instance - this morning? My husband wakes up and asks me what I'm doing out of bed at dark o'clock.

My answer: "Eating oatmeal and reading X-Men porn".


IDEK, Y'ALL. Whose life is really like this? It's almost too awesome. And I'm seriously developing an XMFC UST kink that I worry may devour my fanlife.



The Hypothetical AU Meme: Take any one of the fandoms you know I am familiar with, and give me a type of AU (space opera AU, pirate AU, superhero AU, Ancient Rome, etc). I will then explain what story from your chosen fandom I would write for your chosen type of AU. (NOTE: I am familiar with a hell of a lot more fandoms than I write in, so don't feel like you have to stick with BtVS/AtS).

Prompt, prompt, prompt, and I'll be back to spin hypotheticals!
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Because I love a snarky meme, I've made a few "Texts from Sunnydale" - Enjoy!

Texts from Sunnydale )
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So, you guys remember how I posted really late last night? And I talked about how I had all these ideas for stories and art and also a graduate school admission essay? I mentioned Ashes and an post-return after the fall ficlet (for the table I took FOREVER AGO OMG) and some art for [livejournal.com profile] fantas_magoria and [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr.

Yeah.

I didn't get to any of that.




I did Tudor crossover icons instead... )

I swear, I'll get back to work and stop goofing off any second now!

SO!

May. 12th, 2010 12:48 am
sevendeadlyfun: (Default)
Do you ever have one of those nights where you can't sleep and you have a million different things you could (and should) be using this "free" insomniac time on but you just can't because while you're not tired enough to sleep, you're too damn tired to actually do anything?

Yeah, I'm there.

I cannot recommend enough The Ask by Sam Lipsyte. I'm reading it to my husband because I am determined to bring back reading aloud as a leisure time activity. I have fond memories of my favorite stories as a child being full of people reading aloud: Ma Ingalls, the Marches, various characters in Dickens and Austen. Plus I like reading out loud. I get to be all dramatic and the center of attention.

Anyways, the novel is based on the premise: How will Generation X have a midlife crisis when they've completely refused to grow up? For an incredibly funny (and ohmygod on target) summary of both the both and the question, read A.O Scott's review in the NY Times. As he puts it I see you rolling your eyes. That’s right, you: the one in the fake-vintage rock ’n’ roll T-shirt and thick-framed glasses reading this on an iPhone at the sidelines of your daughter’s soccer game. But you know exactly what I’m talking about, pal. (And by the way: stop trying to be a hip alterna-sports dad. Just cheer, for God’s sake.) TRUER WORDS, MY FRIENDS. TRUER WORDS. Also, when I read that, I was on my iPod Touch so there was a whole guilty blush alterna-sports Mom moment that I'd like to gloss over thankyouverymuch.


But trust me - it is exactly the sort of sardonic the world is fucked and I feel fine bitter is the new black story you'd expect. It's Daria gone south for grown-ups. It's...oh, just read it.

Still plugging valiantly away on the next chapter of Ashes. I'm a whole, WOW, four sentences in. It's like I don't even know what I'm doing. And I don't, so I remain spot on there.

Got a kernel of an idea for my first [livejournal.com profile] 50ficlets idea from [livejournal.com profile] anxiety_junkie. I could be writing that, but it sounds like work. However, as a preview, it's an Angel thinking about Ghostie!Wes post-return from the Fall. Yeah, that's almost the whole story right there, innit? Also I have several art ideas for [livejournal.com profile] fantas_magoria and [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr but those also come suspiciously close to effort.

Well, back to sitting around doing not much and waiting to become exhausted.
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So, remember how last year I was all OMG I AM REMIXING AN EPICLY EPIC EPIC AND HOW AM I GOING TO CONDENSE A BAJILLION WORDS INTO A WORKABLE STORY OF LESS THAN THAT? Yeah, I don't have that problem this year. See? I learn from my mistakes.

AND GO ON TO MAKE TOTALLY NEW AND ORIGINAL ONES. The only story I could find that appealed to me because I'm a picky bitch...is between 300 and 400 words. From that, I have to make a story of NOT LESS than 1000 words. Yeah. New and interesting times. Remind me of this part next year, yes? Not more than eleventy hundred words and not less than, oh, say, 500. Promise?

A procrastinatory poem, written while at the library today )
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A few things before I head off to work:

1.) FIC IS COMING. [livejournal.com profile] anxiety_junkie has turned her lovely hands (and even lovelier mind, which when I say it out loud is a bit eww) to my sad little Faith kink thing, so I'll do the final tidying tonight and post it, thus finally getting out of my head and managing not to drop out of kink bingo entirely.

2.) Almost finished with The Tudors. Even though I did skip most of S2...what?? I have a huge embarrassment squick and Anne Boleyn was working herself up to the ULTIMATE public humilation: execution. I couldn't watch. But the upcoming Anne of Cleves bit is almost killing me even more. Plus the inevitable downfall of Cromwell...It's almost too much to handle for me. We'll see.

3.) Speaking of, I just had the most bizarre Tudors crossover idea EVER. Henry the VII and Anne of Green Gables. I got a quick mental flash of Jonathon Creepy-Eyes and Megan Fallowes as a couple and it all snowballed from there. It's a SICKNESS - don't judge.


Off to work now, tralala. At there's cappucino over there.
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I swear, I keep meaning to post. It's like a whole writing avoidance disease with me. If only I could get someone else to do all the actual work of typing and posting and possibly living my life for me. That would make all of this so much easier.

I'm half-heartedly tooling around with a Faith masturbation kink fic, and it is very half-hearted. I started it March 13th and I'm only 283 words into it. So much for bringing it back.

Mostly I'm waiting for something awesome to wander into my head. I have a ton of WiPs but none I'm panting to write. So, for now, they stay slightly unfinished. I haven't had a single ficlet idea for the challenge. Well, one vague slightly lame one focused on Spike's thoughts on Connor and Angel set during Issue #29, but I couldn't get more than three sentences into that one before throwing up my hands. It'll come or it won't. In the meantime, I'm doggedly pushing through The Tudors in an effort not to be creeped out by Jonathon Henry Creeperton the Eighth.

I don't even understand why I'm watching it. Except for the train wreck value, it's the worst show I've ever seen (AND I WATCH TORCHWOOD, YA'LL). The history is fucked, the acting is somewhere between soap opera and Sham!Wow bad, and seriously? I'm terrified of the actor who plays the King. He has serial killer eyes. He's probably an adorable kitten cuddler and this may make him the world's greatest actor, but mostly it a giant disturb-a-thon THAT I CAN'T STOP WATCHING OMG.

Also, I got a volunteer position at the local FFSC (Fleet and Family Support Center) where I do such monumentally rewarding and fulfilling things as shred documents and answer phones. It's a start. Plus I'm applying to grad school and I need some killer references (I already have killer grades). So hopefully in about FOUR YEARS I'll be a licensed Social Worker.

Also also, I signed up for this year's Remix Redux. Mostly because I had so much fun panicking last year and I can't bear to give that kind of frantic insanity up. Plus, I think my remix was probably one of the best stories I've ever written ever and I'm hoping to hit that again. Of course, this could all blow up in my face, leading to my tragic internet death. But, no pressure, right [livejournal.com profile] anxiety_junkie?

Questions? Comments? Picspams of sexy Buffyverse folk? Bring it!
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1. I sign up to do 50 (FIVE ZERO OMG) Angel: AtF ficlets and what happens? I get tons of Torchwood and BtVS plots. Life is cruel. Also kind of hilarious.

2. While I'm not entirely sure I like Naples, I love the oranges here. Oh the oranges! I cannot actually rhapsodize about them enough because they are SO. DAMN. GOOD. Words are actually insufficient to explain how good they are or how much I love them.

3: Contrariwise (and how bizarrely awesome is it that my spellcheck recognizes that as a word but does not recognize the word spellcheck?), I am a little scared of the meat here.

It is delicious and let's be for real about that. Naples is full of little farms, all of them producing the freshest, most delectable produce and meat I've ever had EVER even in $200 a plate restaurants. Heck, I even see little patches of olive and orange trees roped off on roundabouts and we get sheep herders moving their flock across highways. This is the place for farm fresh awesomeness.

BUT...I bought a ginormous chicken to roast and ya'll? It came with the feets. Now this might be normal for my Euro flisties but I? Am American and our animals don't look like animals by the time they get to our supermarkets. So the feet thing threw me off my game. A bit. The rabbits? Whole other bit of sad scary. They had eyes. They were staring at me, all skinned and dead but WITH EYES. I'm a wussy American totally out of touch with the circle of life. THAT'S COOL BY ME. No eyes.

4: So, I'm working on some stuff for the [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr prompt this week and I ran across some Walt Whitman in my searchings for inspiration and this - THIS- is how you know I got my kink back. Because because because? I read "I sing the body electric", one of my favoritest Whitman poems ever, and I got inspired to do Spike/Drusilla turn-of-the century electrostim porn. YES. WHEN I SAY I WILL BRING IT BACK, BABY IT WILL BE BROUGHTEN.

4.25: This is A Minor List. We don't have the funding for Five Things. Only Four plus a shirty addendum noting that is only halfway through January and our post's accident board shows 45 car accidents. I AM NEVER GETTING OUT OF HERE ALIVE. SEND HELP. OR OWEN/IANTO HATESEX FIC SET DURING JACK'S ABSENCE.
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BEST ITALY DAY (so far)! Finally drove off of post by myself. Managed to make my way down to Gricignano (2 mins away) and back without: hitting anyone/anything, being hit, causing traffic disturbance and/or offending everyone within a ten-mile radius. I consider that both productive and awesome.

Srsly, tho. I was hella nervous because local traffic is...bracing. Requiring of one's full attention and steady nerves, neither of which I am known for. BUT, I DID IT. OH YES. And got a cappa- cappu- coffee at the local cafe. Well, the local cafe that I really really like because it looks so much like an idealized coffee shop from a Judy Garland movie. Bought some good bread (pane: pahn-neigh) and mozzarella and olives (verde) and hot chocolate mix (cioccolata calda).

Stopped by the personal property office and arranged for our last shipment of household goods to be delivered. Note: this may turn out to be a bad thing if more stuff ends up being destroyed by the awful American shipping company. Also had an interview with the Victim Advocate's office and I start training in January!! It's only volunteer for now, but the head of the program is being promoted soon and I'm hoping that my volunteering might lead to a paid position. And if not, it's still totes worth it because the experience will help me in grad school. So win/win there.

It's almost morning times back in the eastern parts of what [livejournal.com profile] jaded_jamie calls Mericaland (LOVE YOU JAMIE!). So how's your morning going?

Also--I finally got photoshop installed on the laptop and I've got a few posts for [livejournal.com profile] still_grrr's Remember November prompt. YAY!
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I have an inordinate fondness for cover songs. The Joker done by Fatboy Slim, The Way You Look Tonight as interpreted by Maroon 5, Mahna Mahna by way of Cake...It's a sickness. Concrete Blonde's version of Everybody Knows came up on my shuffle and I got inspired to Youtube that old Christian Slater favorite Pump Up the Volume. Being a teen-ager in the ninties. Oh God. I'd almost forgotten how bizarre we all were (are?). Still, it got me a free shot of a topless Christian Slater and that's never a bad thing. Gotta admit, I do almost feel pervy considering I'm way older than Pump Up the Volume Christian Slater's movie age.

Having a hard time relating to the angsty OMGTHEWORLDness of PUtV, though. I remember watching it the first time and it was all intense and relatable. Now it's all bad plot and ridiculous overreactions (are there mommies and daddies out there who still get all worked by their teens listening to mildly dirty music and indie stream of consciousness verbal blogs [which is really all Hard Harry's underground station was when you get down to it]? I can't imagine being all OH NOES FREE EXPRESSION THINK OF THE CHILDREN about a goddamn radio station). I think I'm old. I'm not feeling it. Especially not the love scenes. At this point, if I were to have to date again, I would definitely want to see some proof of potency by the first date.

Also watching The Tudors. WHY? I KNOW THE ENDING AND THE ACTING IS DISTURBING. AND BY DISTURBING I MEAN JONATHON RHYS MEYERS IS ENTIRELY TOO GOOD AT PORTRAYING A SLIGHTLY PSYCHOTIC SELF-CENTERED MISOGYNIST KING. HOLD ME [livejournal.com profile] anxiety_junkie, HOLD ME. I CAN'T LOOK AWAY FROM THE BREASTS AND CREEPY OVEREMOTING.


Only two more weeks until we're on the move. I cannot stress how much I do not enjoy moving.

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