Miscellany

[raven]

I've started writing my ficathon fic, finally. It was supposed to be a plotty, dramatic historical story. Unfortunately, so far all that's happened is Rose, the Doctor and Captain Jack sitting around getting stoned.

I hate my brain.

I also hate whatever it is that makes me feel hungry, a mere hour-and-a-half after I shamelessly ate my way through a bag of chippy chips. I will ignore it. I will be strong.

Yeah. There's also flapjacks. Someone's been shopping.

Anyway, moving on from food. I spent this afternoon with lilka (and, peripherally, Michael) giggling. As is tradition, we chatted for literally hours without realising where the time went. We exchanged notes on The Doctor Dances (my review was long, complex and squeeful, hers was "Eeeeee! Eeeee! Eeeee!") and I told her about Colleen's reaction to the idea of Four/Nine fic. The thing is, I mention something, Colleen shrieks, I write it and she reads it anyway. However, Jane is interested in the idea. Since this now brings my prospective audience up to two, I should probably get on and finish the fic.

While we were chatting, Michael kept wandering in and talking about electric turtles and crabs on sticks. I wanted to quote him in and out of context, but the fact remains I have no idea what he was talking about, so. It's his birthday, which is why Jane is up from Warwick at all - it was nice to see them both again. I did talk a little this afternoon about leaving school, and could feel I was considering it more deeply than I have before; in other words, it's beginning to sink in. Because I didn't cry on the last day, Sarah told me that it will suddenly hit me maybe some time in August, and I'll have to have my crying fit all by myself.

She may be right. She is about most things.

So, once we'd squeed incoherently about last night, I told her about the messages I keep getting from the trio at the Children of the Gods convention (see, I remembered what it was called!) This morning's was my favourite:

"Argh. Just outed self and Clare in public via Anubis and microphone. ARGH!"

I started to text back, then paused and dialled. Colleen picked up. "Hello!"

"What?" I asked.

"I just outed myself to the entire convention and it's all your fault!"

Apparently, they were at a talk given by the actor who plays Anubis (have no idea who what his name is), and somehow or other the topic came round to internet dating. Colleen sort-of kind-of put her hand up, and he bounced across with a microphone. "Explain!"

And she did. At length, while Clare was attempting to bury herself in the carpet, and finished off by asking "...why am I still talking?"

I can imagine this with horrifying clarity, but I still wish desperately that I was with them tonight. Yes, I know I am in spirit, I just wish for tangibility (which is so a word, I just made it up).

"Remind me again why this is my fault?" I asked.

"You were the friend who I met on the internet!"

Yes, I was. Almost four years ago, I met Colleen on the internet. I introduced Clare to her three years ago, and the rest is more recent history. Jane thought all of this was as funny as I did. We finished off with some Discworld and Red Dwarf squee before I finally departed.

One more thought - while I'd love to see The Doctor Dances again, I don't have the free space to download it; I would love it, however, if someone could upload just the bit where.... well, the Doctor dances. Heh.

And back to ficathon fic! And food. It's ridiculous to be so hungry at one in the morning.

[The reaction of chlorine gas with water is an example of a disproportionation reaction, as the neutral molecule has an oxidation state of 0, rising to +1 in HCl and falling to -1 in HOCl.]

Comments

[that_mireille]

Your ficathon piece sounds much better than mine. *sighs*

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

*g* Oh, no. They're getting stoned. Whatever you've written, even if it's "sdkjfhsrthuerg", is better...

[technomensch.livejournal.com]

If they're stoned, it does open up the possibilities of operating the TARDIS incorrectly (perhaps the Doctor tells Rose to handle the wrong knob/lever/button; and she in turns uses something completely the opposite, or so-forth), and them ending up on some god-awful planet at a time when god-knows what happens. The whole story is them screwing up time and everything around them because they ARE stoned.

In fact, here's a GREAT IDEA, based on Father's Day. Unfortunately, I'm not that familiar with old Doctor Who episodes, but what if the TARDIS lands in the middle of an event that takes place in an old episode, bringing the Doctor face-to-face with one of his older versions, say Tom Baker during Genesis of the Daleks at the exact moment Baker is comtemplating destroying the Daleks, Eccelson shows up and goes "Oh, bloody hell, and just blows them up, or maybe have him in the middle of that god-awful '96 movie. The whole story could be him coming face-to-face with himself and then screwing up the entire continuity of the series.

I don't write fan fiction. Got great ideas, though.

Please note that anyone who writes this story, this is Copyrighted 5/29/2005 @ 10:12PM EST by ME and I get credit, as well as links to my journal.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

*blinks* I will bear all of this in mind. I would like to add, though, that my request does not call for recreational drug-use in any way, shape or form, and yet it's happening anyway.

[that_mireille]

My request does not call for mocking of Leonardo DiCaprio, and yet, I think it's going to happen. ;)

[technomensch.livejournal.com]

It is happens, use it. Take advantage of it. Sometimes the best ideas come from accidents.

[taraljc.livejournal.com]

I can empathise. I've dropped the plotty bits from mine entirely when they simply just refused to gel after 4 tries, and am now going for a quiet, introspective little day at the beach. I figure, if I can't manage good plot, then I should aim for good characterisation.

I bet the Doctor with the munchies is hysterical, tho.

[that_mireille]

Does that mean I can turn in 1000 words of "sdkjfhsrthuerg"?

And now I want to name a race of aliens "Sdkjfshrthuerg." ;) Not that I'm writing aliens, 'cause I'm not, at least not for this ficathon. This is an improvement, because I wanted to name a race of aliens after a smushed-up pairing name (in another fandom, obviously) that makes my flesh crawl.

I Should Be Stopped.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Does that mean I can turn in 1000 words of "sdkjfhsrthuerg"?

No. *giggles* I mean, you could try, but I wouldn't be answerable for the consequences.

And now I want to name a race of aliens "Sdkjfshrthuerg." ;)

Now this I am all for. This is, after all, the show that has given us the planet Raxacoricofallapatrius. :)

smushed-up pairing name (in another fandom, obviously) that makes my flesh crawl.

Ooh, do tell. I'm intrigued.

I Should Be Stopped.

Well, I'm not doing it. I'm enjoying this throughly. ;)

[that_mireille]

I figured that wouldn't work. (How about 600 words of it? I have 400 words of something that could generously be called fic. *g*)

And now I want to name a race of aliens "Sdkjfshrthuerg." ;)

Now this I am all for.

This is tempting, when next I need aliens. Of course, I won't remember the right combination of letters, but I can just hammer the typewriter keys. *g*

Doctor: "The Sdkjfshrthuerg--"

Rose: "The sod what?"

"Sdkjfshrthuerg."

"You're making that up."


Ooh, do tell. I'm intrigued.

It's not that intriguing. *g* I just hate smushed-up pairing names, and this one grated on me particularly (and then I realized this morning that it's because it reminded me of the Gelth, or however you spell it, from "The Unquiet Dead.").