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This is painful. I have 50 words to go and this is like pulling teeth, y'all.

Random y'all aside: I saw a sign yesterday - lovely fresco done by a local Italian company - that said "Ciao Y'all". My husband would not let me buy it. He clearly sucks. That sign was AWESOME OMG.

This is Spike and Dru. Comics Spike and Dru. How is this hard for me? I actually think I know why - both this fic and the comics posit that at some point Spike ends up being totally over Dru and I just can't brain that.

In my head canon, Spike and Dru are always a part of each other - sometimes together, sometimes not, but indissolubly bound. I write Angel the same way: unable to be with them, but unable to stop loving them. It's very much in the model of the family experience of addicts and abusers - people you love do bad things and become people you cannot live with, but you don't stop loving them.

So this "I've let so many things go" bit messes me around like whoa. Which may explain why I am still 50 EFFING WORDS SHORT OF THE GOAL.

Random Link: I do not know HOW they managed it, but this Little Pony looks EXACTLY like Captain Jack Harkness. ADORABLE.
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Despite rumors to the contrary, I haven't actually abandoned sunny Naples for a coldwater flat in London. I've only thought about it.

Plus I have yet to really determine if the coldwater thing is a metaphor or not. And also, why are bathrooms extra in London hotels? I've been making plans for a mini-holiday in London and all the hotels charge extra for a bathroom. I need an explanations.

Still working on Spanky's remix. It's hard. She's so darn awesome I'm intimidated and it's killing my creativity. So I'm working on a D/s Adelle/Topher pegging/masturbation fic to clear my head. And that is a helluva lotta slashes up in there.

In other news, my Handsome Husband is in Afghanistan with NATO for the next six months. He told me he got to say hi to General Petraeus in the hall the other day. I'm suddenly not at all worried about his safety, yanno?

The Monster is OMG sick. He's had an ear infection for the past month, he's on two types of antibiotics plus codeine for the pain. Yeah. We'll be addressing that next week. There may be sarcasm and threats involved.

Oh, and I got into grad school! I'm going for my MSW (Master's of Social Work) at the University of New England. Totally online, even. I luff the internet.

I was a bit nervous about the whole grad school thing. I had to write a personal statement and I was really concerned. I mean - if I didn't get in, it would basically be because they rejected my entire life. My whole life wouldn't have made the cut. How...mortifying. But apparently my life made the grade and I start back to school August 30.
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I am dizzy and sneezy and several other Disney dwarves of ill-repute and little reputation. Also, I am not going back to work until June. Apparently I need to participate in some form of "retraining" or whatever and that's not scheduled until June 2. I would be aggravated except I was already planning on cutting back my hours to something less like a job and more like a hobby. Also I applied for a paying job, so hopefully I'll get that and it won't be an issue.

It's just part-time but it'll bring in some much needed PAID experience in the "human services" field. And if I get in to grad school, the part-time parts means I'll theoretically have enough time left over to intern somewhere. Not sure where, given that this is Naples and social work internships are not exactly thick on the ground, but somewhere. It's almost touching, isn't it, this pitiful faith I have that stuff will just work out.

Also also, my fingers are refusing to fing. I have re-typed a good half of this post already because I keep hitting the wrong keys. THIS COULD BE THE END, CAMPERS! SEND DELICIOUS TEAS AND ANNE BOLEYN BIOGRAPHIES.

Wait, I already have those. I also have a bizarre desire to write Tudors fic, which I'm hoping will go away if I ignore it for long enough. I had an "Anne's last letter to Elizabeth which she receives from her mother's confessor after her own coronation" idea and "Lady Rochford's ghost on the eve of her execution" fic idea. Plus a few more art ideas.

I may write the Lady Rochford one, if only because it's so damn angsty and exactly right for my idiom. But I refuse to do the Anne letter one because I'm not sure I could do it justice and also it would suck away any remaining will I have to write my damn admissions essay.

I am not currently writing my admissions essay. I have a page done and a fic to write for [ profile] anxiety_junkie which I have not forgotten about. Only slightly delayed in order that I might be unable to type coherently.

So, does anyone else have fanfic urges they're ignoring? I cannot be the only one.


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 [ profile] 50ficlets idea from [ 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 [ profile] fantas_magoria and [ 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, the remix is done and posted. Except for maybe a bit of post-beta fiddling I did which was only the inserting a few words to make a sentence flow better and I should know better but I don't and UGH! I can't handle this kind of pressure, okay? Also I can't wait for next year. This one didn't give me enough good angsting time (despite what [ profile] anxiety_junkie will tell you, I hardly angsted AT ALL. Three emails is barely any angst in my book. So there.)

I'm back to grinding away at all my regular fic. I have the next chapter of Ashes open and I'm scribbling away. And by scribbling away, I mean, of course, that I occasionally will type out a sentence fragment or two, both of which I will rewrite two days from now and then erase in a week after having left the thing up on my desktop that long hoping something will come to me. So probably another month for that, unless I get struck by lightening naked James Marsters inspiration.

The Monster is recovering sort of nicely from his tonsillectomy. Still croaky and sore, but no major issues so far. His mother is not recovering so nicely. I am stuck at home inside while he recovers and IT IS KILLING ME, YA'LL. My perspective is so skewed by less than a week as a shut-in I was seriously contemplating buying a pair of snakeskin platforms. With 5 inch heels. SEND HELP (and some hot River/Doctor/Amy porn).

I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of my latest few comics issues so I can see what everyone finds so objectionable. It's nice to see some stirrings on the comics side of the fandom (even if they are mostly negative). Now where's all the comics fic hanging out? I can't ever find any, apart from some very tentative Buffy/Satsu. I feel like I'm the only writer doing comics fic (which I know is patently untrue but it sounds appropriately dramatic).

Update me, flisties? Everyone ready for....ya know, that big upcoming thing? SIGH. It's the solitude. It's unhinging me.


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August 2011

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