philosophy supernatural nude

This was a great big teal deer about how I am cranky and hate talking to people and fighting the good fight against your own brain all the damn time gets really old really fast and my mother accidentally cleaned the bathroom with my towel and now I am one all-over psychosomatic itch. But I deleted it.

Instead. I am not Nixon. But tomorrow I am going to China.^[1] In the meantime, remixredux09 has opened, and I will just pause to drop a rec for my remixer's story, Missing Hawk (the Anger Turned Sideways Remix), (M*A*S*H, gen). It's an elegant, taut little gem of a story, does well-articulated understatement without a whisper of melodrama. Much better than the original, and much more fun.

I need to go to bed, I think, before my crankiness becomes sentient. Back in a week, and I'm sure I will return a better person to be around.

---

[1] Actually, not for visa and currency purposes. I'm going to (the Special Administrative Region of) Hong Kong.

Not really feeling so well, right now. The next batch of recs here; starting with Chekov/Sulu, jacinthsong asked for it and regular fic-provision was part of our divorce settlement.

Hello, Brother, I Love You by emiime.
Chekov/Sulu. A nice, nuanced, beginning-of-a-romance, with very sensible and pleasing appearances by Kirk, Uhura and McCoy.

How To Get Your Man by misfit_fandoms.
Chekov/Sulu - in PADD form. Sweet, and delightful. Very very image-heavy, though, so if you're on dial-up you may want to make some tea while it loads.

Advance and Retreat by masterofmidgets.
Chekov/Sulu - Sulu teaches Chekov to fence. It's unexpectedly romantic. The whole fic is, really; nice voices for both of them, and a good cameo by McCoy.

And others:

oh two hundred by mekosuchinae.
Spock/Uhura, but not really - it's about Uhura, what makes her who she is, and it's a tightly-focused character study against a backdrop of a beautifully-realised world.

It's the Ears, by thistlerose
Joanna <3 Spock, yaaay! I am absolutely loving all the fic writers who are seamlessly writing Joanna into the reboot universe, and this is no exception - of course Joanna loves Spock. Adorable.

The Enterprise Laundry Room by chaletian.
Because it must have one, and I'm pleased someone thought to think about it!

earth is like the midwest of federation planets by builtofsorrow
In which Winona Kirk is not blandly evil, but a real person. Beautiful sense of place.

TwitterEnterprise by misfit_fandoms.
In a time of crisis, the Enterprise's main servers go down, leaving Twitter as their only means of communication. (Hey, it's gotta happen sometimes.) Really very funny, but again image-heavy - more tea, dial-up people.

Whore by igrockspock.
Gaila hates the word 'whore.' Luckily, so does someone else. Yes. Yes, this.

from the Greek "xenos", which means "stranger" but also "guest" by pogrebin.
Nyota Uhura is seventeen years old and her hero is Amanda Grayson. A little Spock/Uhura, but again that's not the point - the point is Uhura, and her passions. This is a lovely story.

3 things montgomery scott missed while stationed at delta vega by mekosuchinae.
Via jacinthsong, this made me very happy.

Also. I've been trawling the kink meme, and not actually finding a whole lot - the real treasures on it have mostly been reposted elsewhere as "real" fic, and it does tend to a lot of PWP (what, PWP on a kink meme? I astonish you, I'm sure) but I did find the odd snippet.

Routine Medical Care, anon.
Kirk, McCoy. Being trans in the future. I love the hope and humour in this.

The Five Things Jim Kirk Had To Tell Joanna McCoy, anon.
Apparently I love all things Joanna regardless of quality, but this has quality - it's a sweet, ultimately very sad succession, and it rings true to me.

Then, not exactly the graffiti in the Enterprise toilets, but Spock's shipwide announcements pertaining to the same. Really, really hysterical, I loved it. (anon)

another answer to the Joanna prompt, also anon, just plain awesome. "Joanna," Jim says solemnly, as he wipes his streaming eyes, "You might not realize it now, but you've got the best father in the quadrant. Remember that."

five times an Enterprise crew member met their genderswapped selves, anon.
I liked this very, very much. It manages to be a character study for each, as well as crackfic.

And because I do an awful lot of meme-trawling so you don't have to, I'm going to finish with something different and link all my favourites off the fanart meme (all sfw):

-something like the Castro, myrafur, for someone who wanted Kirk/McCoy in San Francisco - hot, dreamy, smoky, hot again;

-Our heroes are turned into babies - it's so cute we might all die (by glockgal, whose art is amazing in general);

-A nice Sulu/Chekov, by turntap2;

-A wedding - sort of, by cathybites, and it's totally fucking hilarious (the octopus people! yes);

-Data trolls the twenty-first century internet, oh, yes, by sidhefaer;

-So, Spock as a child had a pet sehlat, right? Which is kind of like a tiger. Right. It's by iambickilometer, and it's adorable;

-And, finally, girl!Spock and the Vulcan High Council, by liviapenn - this is my desktop background. Just... go and look at it.

That's it, I think. where_no_woman is running a new drabble challenge, Where No Woman Has Drabbled Before, but it's only just getting started. (I have just one contribution - Joanna McCoy, roots and wings, because it really does seem to be the Joanna Show at the moment, but like I said it's only just getting started.)

I need coffee.

Last night I drank a lot of Pimms and wine, and luminometrice and triptogenetica were wonderful hosts, and when we turned up with a duck the size of Jupiter they cooked it, and it was eaten with pancakes and hoi-sin sauce, and it was a lovely lovely evening, and Shim and I stumbled drunkenly home at one in the morning singing "Barrett's Privateers". ("We were let down", he noted, "by the fact I only know half the verses and you don't know any of them at all.")

Today I have mostly been too depressed to do anything. C'est la vie. However. There is a point to this post, before I GO FOR A WALK OMG, because IT IS HEALTHY OMG. I have five Dreamwidth invite codes. If you would like one, please comment and thou shalt receive.

Oh, also, have two more lgbtfest recs:

Something Old, Something New, by such_heights, Merlin.
Arthur, Merlin and Gwen figure things out. There is politicking and hangover cures. It's sweet and kind of awesome.

That Sort of Thing, by hathy_col, Discworld.
This is FABULOUS. Vimes attempts to Explain Things to Carrot. Carrot stays resolutely unexplained. I love this a lot.

Dreamwidth invites. Speak now.

I do wish Feministing wouldn't talk the way it does about, well, stuff. Skin-whitening products are Bad and Wrong, I quite agree, yes indeed. But... you know. There's a reason for them. Colourism, I've seen it called, but it's a kind of internalised racism or just plain old self-hatred that makes people like me think our skin ought to be whiter, and, you know what? It's my business, mine and my people's business, what we do about that, and I can't help but think it's terribly presumptuous for someone who's never been a part of a culture where this is an endemic feature to jump in and start spouting about the Bad and Wrong.

(And, just for the record? If there was some magic cream that would let me pass for white? I'd take it in an instant, and I'd pay more than $70 for it, too.)

In other news, lgbtfest is open for prompt-claiming, and I am having to resist very hard and not claiming... well, lots. I especially love the Harry Potter ones, becuse they twist off two identifiable nexuses (not a word I have used in the plural before): the thought that the magical world is much more socially conservative than ours, and the equally convincing thought that, well, they have magic. Rather than come out as trans, you might go to a back street for a potion as soon as you were sure it's what you wanted. I want someone to write that, actually. I'd also love someone to write about Voldemort's persecution of queer people and how that intersected with issues of birth, and oh, queer issues in the Potterverse generally.

In other other news, a brief vid rec (unlike me, I know): How Much Is That Geisha In The Window, a really gorgeous, savage indictment of the invisible Asians in Firefly. I don't entirely agree with the thesis, but the vid is stunning and very smart.

In other other other news, Small Cat just woke up and looked at me in a disapproving fashion. Back to equity and trusts. One day I will understand the law. Today is not that day.

Yuletide recs! I've been reading slowly through them all, and probably there will be more after this...

I'll Find You In The Morning Sun, Angels in America.
All previous Yuletide stories seem to have focused on Harper, for some reason. This is something I've wanted to read for years, I think - subtle, and funny, and nuanced. And I really like what's been done with Hannah, here, something there are only whispers of in the last scenes of the play.

Sharing The Kishi Sky, Babysitters Club.
The title is great. The story is very sweet.

An Evening With Mycroft, Sherlock Holmes
One Americanism almost threw me out of this story, but I'm glad it didn't quite, because this is gentle and lovely and rollicks along nicely towards the punchline.

Breathe, Shawshank Redemption
Via nos4a2no9, this is beautiful and subtle.

What Makes An Angel, Malory Towers
Apparently I have a weakness for this sort of thing - at any rate, I kind of gravitate to the Enid Blyton fandoms. But this, this is great, and not at all saccharine, which I think it could easily have been.

Hyper by Nature, LOLcats.
Dude. Just... yeah.

Five Times Geoffrey Really Should Have Admitted That Darren is a Fucking Genius, Slings & Arrows.
Yes. Yes, Darren is a fucking genius, and this is just brilliantly silly and glorious. The line "iambic platypus drunk" is something that's going to stick in my head for a while.

Little Miss Curious, Little Miss Sunshine.
500 words, and I'm not going to spoil it, it's great.

Five Kindnesses Charles Emerson Winchester III Performed (But Would Never Acknowledge), M*A*S*H.
This keeps its distance from its subject, and paints a picture of him with a very light touch.

That Shall Achieve The Sword, Merlin.
This is just excellent, and my favourite of anything so far, I think. It's not how the show wil do it, probably, and I don't know if the show even will do it, but if it does, I can't help but hope it will be like this. It's a mixture of boys and their small concerns and the familiar easy way they talk, with the gorgeous epic style drawn from Malory, that fits with sacrifice and magic and all the other things that make it a good story. I like it all very much.

Four Kisses, Merlin.
Another wonderful piece, this one: it manages to weave together the show and the wider elements of the legend very well.

And, finally! For me, personally, I got two:

True to Your Heart, Mulan
In which Shang is inept, and Mulan is gracious. It's very sweet and fitting.

An Arrow At Dawn, Mulan.
A brief snippet that packs a punch, this one. I liked it a lot.

My favourite thing anyone has said in the last few days: "I'm in Ur Mesopotamia... and that's it."

Other things of note:

-I am in a miserable mood and thus am finding it hilarious to think up things that are younger than John McCain. So far we have come up with AIDS, Sputnik, Communist China, the Grand Canyon, nuclear power, legal sodomy, Chuck Norris and Wicca.^[1] John McCain is also only three times younger than Mormonism and a couple of years younger than Nazi Germany.

(No, I don't know why this is so ridiculously funny. It just is. I am crazy. Hurrah.)

-a rec, which I am passing along from musesfool as one of the few things that has made me happy over the last few days: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes: the Spring 2006 Edition, by xylodemon, with its remix, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes: the Ministry Disapproved Edition (the Liability Remix), by sullensiren. Complete with sparkly text and penis jokes. I love them both.

-shoebox_project has updated, to much joy from all. I haven't read it yet; I'm tempted to wait until after Finals and read the entire thing again, because... yes. Certain parts of it have the same effect on me as "a million a thousand three four" does - at any rate, there was certainly a window in my life where I could be reduced to hysterical choking laughter by "funnification is not a word Moony oh how the mighty have fallen", entirely sans context. (And, for no particular reason, "Maturity is our middle name. Our collective middle name. Sirius and Remus Maturity Black-Lupin.")

(My favourite part, though, is the one in the icon. Just saying.)

-Another rec, while I remember. Like Any Other Night, by rose71. This one's a delight, done for lgbtfest and unjustly overlooked, I think.

(Why am I reading so much HP fic? It's the start of the summer. It's what you do. You lie on the grass and procrastinate rather than revise for your GCSEs A-levels Prelims (it's good to know I have matured with the passage of time) Those Things We Do Not Speak Of and construct Marauder-era epics in your head, complete with fictional examiners' reports for Hogwarts NEWTs.)

-There have been a spate of people asking lately, so, apropos of nothing, yes, someone writing fanfiction under the name "Raven" is usually me, and definitely is me on the Teaspoon and on FA.

-All the people whom I have offered giant comedy pina coladas to recently^[2] - this holds. Giant comedy pina coladas all round. It's that sort of a week.

Back to work, yes. Dear second-years - do not do as we have done. Read now, while you still can.

---

[1] one of these things is a lie.
[2] Let us pretend I can use grammar, shall we? Or indeed know anything at all about anything?

Pottering about on teh interwebs, as I do when I ought to be working, I have noticed I have an unexpected number of new LJ friends. Um... hi! Nice to meet you! Just so's you know and aren't here under false pretences, or something: this is my geek space, where I tend to write about life, fandom, combinations thereof, er, interesting clouds, books, philosophical lightbulb jokes and whatever else pops into my head. Fandom-wise, I've been around a good long while. I try and stay out of trouble, it doesn't always work. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Which is not to say I'm not a geek in real life, because, alas, I am. I'm a final-year undergraduate, I'm a lifelong insomniac, I'm an NRI, I live in Oxford, I say "omg!" a lot, I'm pretty much terminally uncool. Make yourselves comfortable. There's pie.

Um. Things of interest that I have noticed recently:

A Cambridge ghost story, from mrkgnao.

isiscolo wants to know how fannish people use LJ. I had to admit to being surprised by this one; I think I assume, with everyone else, that every fannish person uses it like I do. Which is obviously not true at all.

abyssinia4077 (whose name I wish I could spell!) on why fannish meet-ups are ftw, which I mention because I then asked the very reasonable question of whether they are transitive. I mean, as in, Fangirl A meets Fangirl B, and they have a great time and neither of them is an axe-murderer, and then Fangirl B meets Fangirl C, and they also have a great time and neither of them is an axe-murderer - you get the picture. How long does the chain have to be before it stops holding?

In some ways this is a sensible enquiry - it is the principle on which communities such as theladiesloos work, for one thing, and also, I get the sense that fandom makes me feel, rightly or wrongly, much safer about the whole meeting-people-on-the-internet thing. I've met a lot of fans, often in places very distant from home - likethesun2 and the_acrobat in Chicago; musesfool in New York; heidi8 in Miami - and nearer than that, hathy_col and I have been friends for years, the first thing I did in Oxford was meet ou3fs collectively for ice-cream, and well, my sample is running to about fifty people and I am yet to meet people I don't like, let alone people who want to kill me with an axe. My friends page is quiet at the moment because a lot of people are getting ready for/on their way to bitchinparty, and I'd love to do something like that someday - without at any point really thinking about the axe-murderer issue. Like I said, I may be right or wrong on this issue.

In other ways, this is not a sensible enquiry at all. When we're talking about people I've known and loved for years, it does seem to stop being relevant.

And, finally, jacinthsong tries to make a reasonable post about gender/race issues in Firefly, I proceed to make terrible puns. Basically, everyone wins.

Um. What else? Um, the lunatunes theme for this week is, and I quote: "Mannnnnn, that song is so epic!" I heartily approve of this. Have five six songs that are epic:

Sigur Ros - Hoppipolla
Snow Patrol - Make This Last Forever
Indigo Girls - Ghost
Something Corporate - Konstantine
Goo Goo Dolls - Black Balloon
Stars - The Night Starts Here

Um. Okay, now I should go and do some actual work, because that would be good, yes. I meant to buy this yesterday, and forgot, and now it's sold out. Fail, Threadless, fail. Except not, it's actually me who fails in this instance. Anyway. Work, doing thereof!

Edited to add: OTW is open for formal support and membership. Hurrah, is what I say to this.

I have my window open a crack. I can hear the sea.

.....aaaah. Okay. Sane now. Really.

Maybe not quite. But I am back in the frozen north (er - actually, it's a couple of degrees warmer than Oxford), and feeling rather better about life. The Aeneid was wonderful - more thoughts on it when said thoughts are something beyond "omgyay!" - and the week ended very very well indeed. And now, amazingly, I am home. I didn't particularly think about what I was doing this vac, mostly because my life ended with the Aeneid, and now I'm here and really rather quite surprised about it.

But. Pleasantly surprised. At nine o'clock this morning I got a text from my mother, to the effect of, am in Dubai, see you later. I am an awful person and had entirely forgotten she was there, mostly due to the pernicious effect of the Aeneid cast party the night before. It was drunken. That is a big surprise to everyone, I know. But it was also joyous and filled with happy people, and I had not eaten in days, and drinking was clearly the best idea ever. (I tried. I really, really did. I ate a sandwich and everything. In the afternoon, I was packing up my room with the windows open with chiasmata knitting and making soothing noises in the windowseat, and was being gradually consumed by maudlin. Because Balliol are not made of win, they want me to clear out all my crap. I, therefore, was putting away books, thinking, oh, won't have time to read much next term, I may as well take it home for good. Oh, god. Leaving Oxford. Please to not be getting me started on this always-cheerful topic.)

But, yes, yes, cast party. I participated in some glorious cocktailing, and now have adopted two more OULES children as well as Maria. And spent the rest of the evening curled up on the Couch of Lesbian Doom, so called because through a bit of syllogistic trickery, everyone on it was - here's the clever part - by definition a lesbian (osymandias and shimgray objected to this slightly, on grounds of being male, but they were both quite clearly wrong) and I was rather extravagantly rude to a gatecrashing sleazy boy drifting through the party (although not quite as rude as chiasmata, who was heard to wish quite cheerfully that his penis would fall off), and after that, sinking slowly into sleepy contentment. Ahhhh.

Yes, nine o'clock this morning, my mother was in Dubai, and by six, we were both in Manchester Airport, she sleepy and endearingly irrational and me sleepy and wearing the Cat Ears of Troy. (Because, er, everything that was involved in the Aeneid in any capacity has become the "X! Of! Troy!", said just like that, with pauses for dramatic piano music. My life has become constituted and defined by the norms and mores of a student bastardisation of Virgil, why do you ask?) She's been gone a month, and I've been away for three, and it was nice to wander back tonight and dazedly talk about nothing much. She informs me that I've lost weight. To which my answer is, um, I haven't eaten in days, this is hardly surprising. (Is it some sort of grand only-daughter cliche that this should be our very first topic of conversation? Sigh.)

And now I'm home, and feeling sane enough to sit still and write for the first time in a while, and it's funny, but I'd forgotten what absolute silence sounds like. Above the aforementioned sound of the waves - which are particularly clear tonight; it's rough, and the trees are mostly still - there's no sound at all. It's immensely soothing. (I mean, no wonder I get crazy living in central Oxford. I lived here for eight years before that.) And now I can write again, and am eating a little more, and I might even be able to do some work for, er, Finals. These are all good things. (Which is not to say I am not missing Oxford ridiculously. I am, and with almost comical immediacy.) Things I have wanted to post for a while, and not done so through being crazy busy:

-remixredux08! Hurrah, hurrah! I love Remix, and this is, frighteningly enough, my fifth year doing it. (And almost not; I signed up literally minutes before sign-ups closed.) I'm pretty excited about this year's - my author is intimidatingly awesome, in the good way, and writes about places and people and I really want to revisit. One thing I like is that I tend to have more fun with the writing each successive year - last year's effort was "Ways of Not Speaking (the Poetry in Motion Remix)",which I don't think I ever reposted - and that bodes well for this time around. We shall see.

-lgbtfest, run by penknife and my dear mireille719. I love this idea; it addresses something that's always bugged me, namely, the relatively small amount of fic out there that addresses, alongside slash, notions of queerness and gender and sexuality in fandom's fandoms. For once, my timing is fabulous - prompts have just now opened for claiming - and they really are pretty cool. (I came up with exactly one. I fail. Other people emphatically do not, the list makes very intriuging reading.) I'm not sure if I'm going to sign up yet; I really ought not to do more than one ficathon at one time, but I do want to take the opportunity to finish my Teddy-Lupin-is-amazingly-genderqueer story, which is currently festering at 2000 mostly disconnected words.

-(Also, a 9000-word-story, Star Trek, supposed to be for likethesun2's birthday, except not, because see above re: me failing, is festering as well, and that's annoying me because it was going so well. Again, we shall see, now I can sit still and, you know, construct sentences again.)

-My darling wife jacinthsong has divorced me on Facebook. This is a tragedy of epic proportions. It is epic and tragic. (More than the Aeneid. Yes.)

She does, however, have her reasons. Er. Um. In brief: I have a boy; I am as surprised as everyone else, believe me; it's shimgray; I am happy.

Right. To bed, to bed! In the morning I am going to the beach.

The time in Indianapolis and New Hampshire right now is 11.01pm. Unfortunately for me, I live on GMT, where it is currently 4.01am. Ah, jet-lag, how much I've missed you. But other than that, life is good. Awful awful weather! Chips and scampi! Punch-ups in Primark! It is so good to be home!

(And, 450 flights cancelled yesterday out of O'Hare. Damn, I was lucky to get out in time.)

Time for yuletide recs, I think.

The Pen and the Sword, Anne of Green Gables.
Anne and her brood, who lived through WW1, now in 1939. It's measured, well-researched, and lovely. I forget how long ago these books were written - I remember reading Anne of Avonlea and being shocked that they were getting telephones installed! - and this has such a sense of place and time. Lovely.

We'll Take What We Can Carry, And We'll Leave The Rest, Fried Green Tomatoes
Oh, Ruth and Idgie. And here they are, desperate and loving, and argh, so much love for this.

Homing, Slings & Arrows.
This is probably my favourite - or one of them - so far, because, oh, my, Anna. Barring Geoffrey, who is my favourite fictional character in anything ever, Anna is my favourite. And this fic could be repetitive - I love how everyone in the fandom (myself included) agrees that of course Anna didn't stay in Bolivia, she came back to work for Geoffrey. But it isn't, it so isn't. It's sweet and deliciously in-character and Cyril and Frank are sweet and Geoffrey is suitably absurd and Nahum.... oh. I didn't know I wanted Anna/Nahum, but I so did and now here it is and it's wonderful. Go and read it. Even if you don't know the fandom.

Those That Play Your Clowns, Slings & Arrows.
If you haven't seen S&A, here it is in a nutshell: Geoffrey Tennant, beautiful, brilliant and unstable, has a mental breakdown onstage mid-performance of Hamlet. This fact is so grounded into the fabric of the show it would seem difficult to do anything fresh with it (as more than one reviewer has already noted), but this author puts it in Cyril's POV and makes it terrifying and sad anew. It's a wonderful achievement.

(I haven't read the rest of the S&A stuff yet, having been busy rolling around in the riches. Recs would be appreciated, though I'm planning to read them all regardless.)

High On Sunlight, Men With Brooms.
Intelligent, poignant backstory. Lovely.

(Speaking of Men With Brooms, how much do I love that it's basically Slings & Arrows, only a few years earlier and with curling? And, er, Leslie Nielson. In case it's not apparent to anyone in the known universe, I do love Paul Gross. He's so weird.)

Making Time, Making History.
I've requested fic for this two years running now, and this wasn't for me but it felt like it was. Mikey and Steve put their new lives together, and it's sweet and smart and sounds like the original.

Some Life That We've Chosen, RENT.
This was my story and it is made of LOVE. (There is an oddness about the title - it's "Some Life..." on the story file, but "This Life..." on the index. I'm not sure. Anyway.) It's a lovely meandering through life a couple of years before April's death, and I love it especially for its details of living with people - food acquiring sentience, other people taking up your space - and how real all the characters seem. Much love.

The Sound of Bells, M*A*S*H.
Oh... beautiful. I have read so much wonderful M*A*S*H fic over the years that it now has to be really good to impress me, and this did. Measured, beautiful, and it reminded me of scarlatti a little.

Redeployment., M*A*S*H.
Okay, list-people? likethesun2, amchau, garnettrees, all of you? Read this read this read it right now. As in now. It reminds me of some of what you guys used to write.

(Actually, now I come to think of it, we had three attempts between us at this story, and they were all really depressing.)

Hasta La Vista, ...Commercials?
I have to admit, I clicked on the fandom title in the hope of reading this exact fic. PC's done with Vista, but Vista's not done with PC. Mac intervenes. I giggled like a loon.

Okay, now it's five in the morning. I love Yuletide. So far only one person has guessed anything I wrote, but there's still two days before the reveal.

Something to redeem a crappy day full of nothing but gloom and LSAT practice tests: flicking through obscure-and-more-obscure Sky channels at one in the morning and randomly coming across Slings & Arrows, which I didn't even know was on British television. The episode was "Birnam Wood", and I switched on literally just in time to see Geoffrey have his taking-antidepressants-by the fistful, "and NOTHING WORKS!" meltdown all over Darren.

At which point I got up, made some hot chocolate and found some cookies, and sat happily back down again. It may be temporary, but I now feel much better about life. Ahhhhh.

While I'm at it, fic rec: Eurydice, by rillarilla (S&A, Geoffrey/Ellen, sort of). The author claims it's a lot like my own "Letters To La Paz", which it is a bit, except for the part where it's better. It's well-thought out, gorgeously written, and you will read it twice. I'm not telling you why. Go and read it. Even if you don't know the fandom, come to think of it. Run, don't walk.

I have nothing else to report. My life is riddled by humidity, anxiety about The Future^TM and lack of job. Due to a set of circumstances too stupid to explain, I have no work this week and thus, no money.

Argh, I am going to stop waaaaaailing now. So, er. Happy birthay, hathy_col! I love you a whole, ginormous, humongous lot, and I have a present for you, all wrapped 'n' stuff, that was sitting in my bedside drawer all the time we were chatting, and I just forgot to give it to you, because I am a MORON.

And on that suitably accurate note, I go to attempt to start to write my ficathon fic, and believe me that abuse of infinitives is quite intentional, because I love the English language JUST THAT MUCH.