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|Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013|
|I TRY to be good
This morning, I woke up very late.
After shoveling Tequila Jane into her school clothes and pushing her out the door, I left the house (after the second morning without showering - thank you, Second Shot, for your contribution to the survival of the rebellion.)
I walked down a block, and tried to hail a cab. There were no cabs.
minutes minutes late late late.
Then, there was one cab, a block away. I raised my hand. A dude stepped out between the cars 10 feet from me and waved for it.
I thought - "Fuck you, dude - that's my cab!" I started moving.
Then I saw he had a cane. I stopped.
I thought - "I'm LATE! Also, fuck you, dude with a cane, that's my cab."
He glanced uptown toward me. He was wearing a priest's collar.
I thought - "Really? But...Come on! Priest with a cane! I am still late! Fuck you! That's my cab!
He turned a little further. It was the priest who married Mr. Angel and I.
The light changed. The cab pulled up.
I thought....Okay. I guess that's your cab.
It turns out that to snipe a cab from me, you have to be a crippled priest with a cane who married me.
I feel good about that standard.
|Sunday, December 16th, 2012|
|Oh, hello then.
Casually surfing around LJ, I read that many people are doing a friending meme (because that seductive temptress tumbler has lured so many people away.)
I cannot do a meme! For it is 2:00 am and all the many people in this family have been sick to their stomach in the last week, also Tequila Jane had surgery, (successful. unrelated to throwing up.) Second Shot has a diaper rash visible from space, and I have not done one little bit of the christmas shopping.
But I miss fandom!
And so I say - Hello! I am present and accounted for.
I tried to sign up for yuletide this year, but the AO3 invite thing told me that it would be 6 months before they would speak to me.
Meanwhile, I have read A LOT of Avengers fic. I would really like more great het sex re: Steve Rogers.
|Thursday, June 9th, 2011|
|the important part of the story
This is a two part story! Let's try to figure out which part is more important...
Part 1: MOAR BABIEZZZ
I am pregnant! Again! With a baby! Who is a girl!
I am happy to say that my Second Shot (of baby tequila) is going down a lot smoother than the first (isn't that how it always is?) No suicidal depression this time, AND, after the first three months my morning sickness really did go away. There was that little phase where the medical/industrial establishment insisted that she might have Downs, and provided an extensive menu of "testing" and "termination" options - but we escaped from their mad scientist clutches sans amnio, abortion, and disability - so it all worked out in the end.
For Future Fangirl Reference: I am now Quite Old (although not yet 40) so the test they do for Downs really did come back with some scary numbers. When we went to the genetics counselor, she said it was a combo of my age and a major hormone imbalance that had triggered the results. I asked her to compare Second Shot's test results to Tequila Jane's from back in the day. She was really surprised by my request - which I thought was very weird. This is a major research hospital, so I can't believe no one has ever thought to compare sibling results before...But anyway - when she checked it, it turned out that I did have the same hormone imbalance with TJ! I guess that's just how I roll. The thing that tipped the numbers into the red this time was my Advanced Maternal Age (and hearing aide, and cane, I guess.) We did another blood test and the numbers came back just fine - so there you have it.
If you ever have bad results come back from a nuchal scan, here is my advice:
1) Don't panic! Many false positives on this test!
2) Compare the results to your previous pregnancies if you can (that made me feel MUCH better)
3) Do the "sequential" blood test immediately! It took one second at my OBGYN when we finally did it - but the one second was put off by the week and a half we spent waiting to get the appointment with the genetic counselor, the actual appointment, endless debate about the dangers of an amnio (in my opinion - not worth the risk of miscarriage unless you would definitely abort a Downs baby.)
In summation, I am pregnant! Hooray! I am due in October, so I will be pregnant ALL SUMMER. Awesome.
The Second Part of the Story:
Yesterday, I had an OBGYN appoint scheduled in the afternoon.
Yesterday, it was 95 degrees out.
Yesterday, I was wearing black pants.
I left for my appointment a little late (because that, too, is how I roll) and my bus wasn't there, so I started hustling down the street. I sometimes forget that I can't do everything non-pregant Jssangel does, especially when it is hot out. So - hustle hustle hustle...whoa, the world looks sparkly, whoa the ground is moving, whoa the ground is on my FACE!
(I didn't quite pass out, but I definitely left the space/time continuum for a second there.)
When I re-integrated, I was surrounded by nice New Yorkers (New Yorkers are very nice, you guys) helping me sit up, and getting me water etc. One of them was a cop, one of them was a guy in denim shorts, and one of them was a sharp looking guy in a suit, who was...wearing make-up. !!???
("Dr. Hathaway? Are you wearing make-up?" I thought.)
They helped me inside a nearby building to cool off. The cop called an ambulance (over my protest), Denim Shorts found a place for me to sit, and Sharp Suit...with MAKEUP! helped me down, held my hand for a minute to be sure I was steady and then went on about his business.
The cop said his name was Bill. I am sad to say that I have forgotten the name of Denim Shorts, because immediately after he told me his name, he told me that the name of Sharp Suit was Tim McKay, and that he was wearing makeup because I had managed to faint in the middle of a street where they were filming a TV show called White Collar.
I think the real kudos in this situation must be split between a) the Republican Party for causing global warming and creating a 95 degree day in mid-June, and b) Second Shot, for being a really successful star-stalker, even in utero.
|Saturday, February 19th, 2011|
I've never seen Mad Men and I just watched the pilot.
Am the only one who wants to write agonized self-hating Don Draper / Salvatore slash?
|Tuesday, October 12th, 2010|
|is this the road that leads to flocking?
I just caught up on my flist, and there were a bunch of requests on SGA Storyfinders for things by 30toseoul, and I went and looked at her journal and she is gone.
I...well, you know, I don't know that chick at all - I liked her stories, I lurked her crazy antarctica pictures, now she's gone, and presumably I'll never reread her stuff (and I am a big re-reader. When busy and stressed - so lets say 99.8% of the time - I like to go back to stories I know) which sort of sucks, but is nothing like the heart attack I had when LTLJ deleted her journal, and I thought retrograde was gone forever (it's not - it's still up on her Watergate website.)
Which - fine - we're all people with our lives, and who knows why she (30toseoul) left. Certainly not me, who only ever lurked on her...but it still feels like a betrayal of some kind. Like, the stories were there, and I thought they would always be there, so I didn't copy them, and now they are gone.
Burn the library at Alexandria, why don't you!
Errr. Perhaps that's a bit of an over reaction.
Anyway - upon noticing the situation, I swore (SWORE!) that I would never take my stories down - not because I think so many people are gagging to hear about Ronon's Intimacy Issues, but because it seems shitty to me to rip the rug out from under even one person who thought they could check something out from the Jssangel Library O' Porn, and would be irked to find that they were wrong.
But then I realized that I basically stopped posting in this journal when RL and Journal Life threatened to connect too thoroughly...and I thought about how much I missed writing or chit-chatting here, and I wondered how I could get back to posting, without needing to be careful, and then I thought, "I know, I could friends lock my journal, and then no one who didn't know me would, um, know that I am me."
And then I realized that that is probably what happened to 30toseoul, and then I felt mean for judging. Which is too bad, because I love judging.
Anyway, I think that when I finish the project I am working on now, I will do two things. 1) copy all my stories to AO3, 2) sign up for a dreamwidth account.
Who knows what the future will hold, but regardless of what I do with this journal, my meager contributions to the world of fanfic will be left to linger on. And maybe I will migrate to DW.
Also, hello LJ. It's been several months. You're looking well. I strongly suspect my babysitter has an LJ and is reading/writing Wincest. I guess we should all take comfort in the idea that even when I am not at home, TJ is being raised by people who have their creative & pornographic priorities straight. And by "straight", I definitely don't mean "straight."
That is all.
|Saturday, May 29th, 2010|
|come and get it
If I was clever, I would write a fic called "Ring Around the Collar" and it would be about how Peter and Elizabeth include Neil in their marriage. I am not, however, even clever enough to include an LJ cut at this moment, so all you get is some nookie.
It wasn't any kind of grand gesture. They didn't talk about it, didn't romance each other; Neil's eyelashes were long black smudges against his cheeks, flirting with every glance, but he still wasn't a girl. And Peter had a wife. He didn't want a girlfriend.
He would have said he didn't want a boyfriend either, until he reached over Neil's head, up into a cupboard for a whiskey glass (against his better judgment already) and then - thank god they weren't drunk already. Thank god there was nothing to blur the feeling when Neil stepped back against him, the hard line of his back curving into Peter's chest, his body pushing back just enough against Peter's groin - and Peter didn't have to stop and ask "hey, is this ok? can I? should I?...because he already had El's voice whispering in his ear, "you get a chance, you go for it -"
His arm went tight around Neil's waist, hauling him back, grinding tighter - his cock wedged along Neil's ass and his mouth on Neil's neck, thrusting already, just a little, just enough to say "you're mine." And Neil was tilting his head back, opening for Peter's tongue, spreading just a little - just enough to say "yeah - come and get it."
And Peter did.
|Where did you go, Joe Dimaggio?
You know what I miss? SGA. I miss new episodes featuring Ronon's velvet elvis, John's twitchiness, Teyla's awesomeness, and Rodney's snappy fingers.
I miss a new great story every day. Or two!
I miss having a fandom to love. Look, I like White Collar, and I want to lick Timothy Oliphant just as much as everyone else does, and I still occasionally watch Glee, but there's just nothing out there, man. I feel like I did when Buffy got canceled, or when x-files and usenet died at the same time. There really isn't any boat to jump to, is there?
Also, I sort of want a DW account. It seems like LJ is going to be the next to go. I wonder how I go about doing that.
Also, TJ is almost one, and I have not figured out how to get my career and my baby to exist simultaneously in my life.
Maybe I should write some fic. That might cheer me up.
|Sunday, April 11th, 2010|
Folgers has a commercial on Hulu (and probably real TV, but I am not allowed to watch that anymore - TJ commands all my prime time attention) which is really annoying and sexist. There's a blond chick, who is clearly more than 20, getting breakfast, and her Dad shows up and is all "You were out late" and she's all "I'm not a kid", and he's all "Yeah but still", and she's all "Well, it's fine because... **ring flash** ..I'm engaged!"
so I guess he doesn't need to worry, because once married, she'll be home early every night. And then the Dad is all "Yeah, Brad (?) is a good guy - I told him I liked him last week when we talked..." OOOH HUGZZZ!!
Now I know they want me to be all warm and gooey - Daddy loves me! And Brad Loves me! And he was old-fashioned, and asked Daddy's permission!" (and I'm not gonna lie - Mr. Angel chatted up Daddy Angel before our engagement and I thought that was awesome) BUT!!! The whole thing is so so so - she's NAUGHTY to be out at night on her own, but OH it's all ok, because it was really a Patriarchy Sanctioned Transfer of Power (she thought she was out on her own recognizance, but she was wrong!)
In other news, last night I dreamed that I met monanotlisa
in a museum in Germany by accident, while I was waiting for Kate Hewlett to show up so we could work on a short film. It was really an accident! I just happened to recognize Mona from her pictures! And I said hello! And then there was Kate, and we (Mona and I) awkwardly pretended that SGA Fandom was not how we got together.
Also, I rewatched that old SG-1 video set to "We didn't start the fire" (bad copy here
) and it made me sort of sad. The Stargate shows were really delightful Sci Fi. At their best, they lived up to all the imaginative world building and hope for the future that defines the genre for me. And now BattleGate Universe 90210 just blows to the point where I couldn't force myself to watch more than a couple of episodes, and there isn't really any other TV that I care about (I mean yes yes - I watched White Collar, and nothing has ever been gayer, and that's lovely of course, but it's not the same.)
I miss great old school fic. I miss the explosion of SGA that lured me to LJ, but also, I realize that I had years of good spec-fic fanfic...from the x-files, to potter, to buffy, to SGA...
What's next peeps? I tried Merlin, but there's really only one story for the fic to tell - the revelation - and that's not enough to hold my attention. And like I said, I liked White Collar, but I don't need to read any fic about them...
Eh - It's not like I have time for the computer anyway, but frankly, I miss my escape. And I miss my porn.
|Friday, February 12th, 2010|
|My Unholy Love for the Hunger Games
Before (during and after) TJ's arrival, the Angel household went on a throwing things away spree. This is because (as previously mentioned) we are insane packrats who have a big bowl of little ketchup and mustard and sugar packets in our hall closet (just to give you an example.)
The hardest thing we did was get rid of books...but the easiest books to get rid of were the ones that I don't want TJ to read. (I figure, any book in my library should be fair game for her - some of it she'll have to grow into, but any fictional friends who are living with me should be people I want her to know.)
The worst was how much sci-fi I threw away. I love Robert Heinlein (Have Space Suit Will Travel is one of my favorite books of all time) but that dude wrote some lame sexist stuff. I remember enjoying Podkayne of Mars back in the day, but when I reread it I was disgusted by what a dumb bunny she was. (I ended up keeping Time Enough For Love, and To Sail Beyond the Sunset. The incest is...well, incest - but one thing you gotta say for Lazarus Long, he respects bitches.)
So then I started looking for speculative YA fiction with strong female leads, and someone recced The Hunger Games. I read the first chapter...and my heart was pounding, and I was angry that I bought it, just furious! Because I am a Trekkie-Type Sci-Fi fan! I like exciting adventures in a future full of possibilities - not terrifying adventures forced on people by miserable necessity!
But I couldn't stop thinking about that first chapter, so I finally just sat down to read the rest of it, and it's incredible. The voice, the world building, the PLOT - the philosophy, and the way it both welcomes you into Katniss's pov, and subtly implies that the reader is part of a society not unlike the Capitol...
They've just announced the title/release date of the third book, and I am chomping at the bit.
In the meantime - DEAR INTERNET - the fanfiction I most want to read the whole world is a retelling of the first book from Haymitch/Cinna's pov. Please get on it. I will wait here.
|Monday, January 11th, 2010|
|Knit the raveled sleave of care. Or the sleeve. I still can't spell.
So Mr. Angel just called me at work to confess that he dozed off and let TJ take a 3 hour and 20 minute nap!
I've always thought that a great anti-smoking ad would be to have a calendar or a clock next to a person smoking, showing how long they will live. It would jump-cut as they lit or stubbed out cigarette after cigarette - and the number would go down and down. Like "This dude has 87 years ahead of him - now 83, now 79, now 64 etc etc."
This is how I feel about bedtime! Every minute of a nap that lasts longer than an hour during the day equals a later and later bed time! Letting a baby sleep too much during the day is identical to painfully cutting short an otherwise happy life with nicotine poisoning! Or something like that!
TJ is teething, and has been gradually pushing things later and later - so that last week Thursday night she went down at 3:00 am. When I am working my normal shift, I theoretically get up at 6:00 am for work - and by "theoretically", I mean that typically my alarm goes off, I hit snooze, I oversleep the snooze and then I try to brush my teeth and pump at the same time, blow off showering for the 2nd (3rd? 4th?) day in a row, run out of the house, spend money we don't have on a cab only to realize that I left the pump parts at home, which means that at lunch I have to rush home and back (2 cabs! $20!!), and then there are stress hormones in my breast milk, which undoubtedly lead to cancer, color blindness or stunted hula-hooping abilities in small children, and then I rush home after work only to find that my traitorous husband has let the baby TAKE A THREE HOUR NAP so that she will stay up all night again!
Last night she went to sleep at 12:20 after I accidentally nursed her to sleep (I thought she wasn't really going to go down until 1:00 or so, and I figured I'd nurse her and then do our "bedtime" "routine", complete with pom poms, the aformentioned hula hoop and a landing that the Russian judge routinely dismisses from the world stage in disgust.) But she fell asleep! And she didn't wake up until 8:50 am! And I thought - aha! This is totally acceptable and brilliant! But now it's all ruined! Ruined, I tell you(!!), by her indulgent daddy and her undisciplined napping.
Or whatever - who knows. Maybe she'll fall asleep at 10:00 tonight - there's really no telling. She is good at staying asleep once she gets there - her normal wake up time is 9:00 am, so if she goes down at 1:00, well, that's an 8 hour chunk right there (for her) and a solid 5 hours for me (which is, sadly, sort of fantastic.)
Let's root for 1:00 am, people. Mr. Angel's life is hanging in the balance. I have to be tough about these things. I like him a lot, and he is cute and gives good back rubs, but naps in excess of 3 hours are just over the line.
|Monday, January 4th, 2010|
|Thursday, December 31st, 2009|
|A cure for baby hiccoughs
So - TJ has had some mad mad hiccuping all her life (and actually, sort of before her life too, since she was a hiccuping fool while she was living in my tummy.) The internet and the pediatrician uselessly told me to pat her on the back or whatnot when she gets the hiccups, which doesn't work at all - HOWEVER! At this late (almost 6 months old) date, I have found an answer:
We use the crazy Dr. Brown bottles, which are really annoying to clean, because they have like 47 parts, but which some people say prevent colic (who knows? not me, and probably not them either - but we fell for their marketing scheme.)
Anyway - those bottles come with different nipples for different stages of development - they get harder to suck liquid through as the baby gets older. TJ should be using the level 2 nipples now, but we've been kind of hit and miss about it, because we have 1000 level one nipples and like three of the level 2's. HOWEVER! I recently discovered that when she gets the hiccups, giving her a bottle with a level 3 nipple makes them stop!! I think because she is doing the equivalent of holding her baby breath while she is trying to pull milk through and unexpectedly tough nipple. So back in the day, when she was first born, I bet that using a level 2 nipple would have done the same thing.
Anyway - this goes on my list of stuff I wish I figured out before, and that you, gentle reader, should know about too!
|Monday, December 14th, 2009|
|Things that make you go hmmm...
I've decided that now sometimes when I think of things, I'll write in my journal. It's crazy, I know - but stick with me...
Since the advent of Tequila Jane, life has, of course, turned totally upside down. Her velvety baby head and demanding facial expressions have completely derailed all of my plans for self-improvement, carreer advancement, and world domination. (Also, I can't spell career. Carear?)
I just backed away from a huge job because it would mean a month and a half of travel, and I can't bear to be away from her for so long...but now it's unclear how I will be able to maintain my secret superhero identity while tethered to a breast pump at a hateful temp job. (And then of course I have to stop and be grateful - so very grateful - for steady work just when I need it the most. What the hell am I complaining about? The rent is paid! The baby is cute! Mr. Angel was born to be a daddy!)
We had a plan about how we were going to handle these things (mostly: after 3 months we start transitioning to Mr. Angel as primary caregiver while I start bringing home some bacon, and after 6 months I start really working again.) That plan has collapsed in the face of - well, the face of the BABY! Now, when I am actually splashing in the bathtub with her, or counting her toes, or saying "Who is the baby? Are YOU the baby?" into her pretty little ear, I don't have a problem. But when I am not with her, and I realize how much of my sense of self was tied up in my work, I am...a tiny bit crazy.
I am starting to suspect that I am going to need to find a different...thing. To be my thing. So I guess we'll work on that next. And in the meantime, maybe I'll write some more.
In actual journalingish news...
While frantically looking for my shoes this morning, my attention was arrested by a news story about the top three movies of the weekend: The Princess and the Frog, The Blind Side, and Invictus. I'll leave you to figure out what all these movies have in common, and just say, "good job movie-going public!"
On the other hand, I just watched the latest episode of Glee (which as we all know rockets wildly back and forth between delightful and ...not) and was actually sort of stunned by how insanely racist it was. ( I mean INSANELY racist.Collapse )
|Thursday, August 6th, 2009|
|Just One Thing
Here is what I have learned about being a new mother: you can do one thing per day. (I mean in addition to the feeding and diapering and burping and cuddling etc.) Really - in 24 hours there is only time for one non-baby related activity - so you have to chose wisely. Sometimes that One Thing is a shower (please note: applying body lotion is a second thing, and if Tequila Jane catches me at it, she'll scream her fool head off until I bolt half-lotioned back to her in shame) but not every day. If I showered every day, I would never get anything else done!
This is particularly troubling because TJ was nearly a month early. We had, oh, I don't know eight years
to paint and plaster and transform the apartment from Jssangel's House of Knives and Matches into a Nuclear Family Idyll (and second bedroom from Den of Iniquity into Nursery.) It turns out that we needed eight years and one month.
The day before yesterday we hung curtains, thwarting the voyeurs across the way who have enjoyed three weeks worth of the Topless Mommy Show (it's like free cable!) Yesterday I took the vodka out of the freezer and replaced it with breast milk storage. Today I may drink the vodka.
The major obstacle to accomplishing anything is breast feeding. I thought I was prepared! The internet was really clear about how it's not instinctive, total rocket science, yet utterly (udderly?) essential to the health and well being of Tequila Jane, and deserving of all my not inconsiderable focus and problem solving skills. And - fair enough - this latching nonsense took a minute to figure out, as did the CIA Sanctioned maximization-of-sleep-deprivation method of timing feedings, and the poo-to-feeding tracking charts are right on the line between completely ridiculous and deadly fucking serious, but...the real challenge is being pinned in one place, unable to use my hands, for upwards of 12 hours a day.
So instead of writing thank you notes or repairing the baseboards, I just sit around cuddling TJ, watching her little baby face while she eats (and messing with her little baby feet when she falls asleep halfway through a meal.) It's both awesome and frustrating all at once. The Nursery of Iniquity cries out to have its closet organized, but alas, organizing a closet has to be the equivalent of like 10 things, which is way over my limit of one.
|Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009|
|A surprising plot twist
Guess what? I had a baby! Last week!
No, really! I realize that generally people mention that they are pregnant some time before giving birth, but I like to keep you guessing - and also, after the troubles of last year, I spent the whole pregnancy terrified that something was wrong and that I was going to loose her - (an emotional state that I don't recommend maintaining for nigh on 10 months) so actually I didn't tell even RL friends that I was knocked up until people started eying me in surprise and kindly offering advice about how to diet away my nascent beer belly.
But Tequila Jane rode into town safe and sound, even though she's a bit early because my liver revolted (aren't livers revolting?) and they had to induce (making me really glad that my "birth plan" was "Go to Hospital, Come Home with Baby" - and not a list of hearts and flowers and transcendental earth mother experiences, which frankly, the pitocin drip would have immediately blown right out of the water.)
Sometime I might write an essay entitled, "How I avoided a C-Section at the 11th (or rather, 23rd) hour, and you can too!" - but right now I am just going to sit here being blissfully happy with the most beautiful baby in the whole world sleeping the sleep of a person who cried for 4 hours straight in the other room with my exhausted husband.
Also, maybe I want to make a list of things to know about birthing babies...Does everyone get this urge? I read the entire Library of Congress Catalog on the subject of pregnancy and child birth, and I STILL felt like essential truths were left out.
For instance - in the theory vs. practice category, I was all, "blah blah blah - the epidural slows labor down - maybe I should try to do this drug free" - and lots of books, and the Lamaze class we took, and my darling hippie Mother In Law, were all like, "That's right! Say no to the man! And his drugs! He's interfering with your natural Goddess Power!
In practice...I love the man! And I love his drugs! In fact, I recommend drinking straight from the epidural line, and tipping your bartender early and often. I think it did slow down my labor a little - but even if it turned 2 hours into 4 hours, that was 4 pain-free hours, vs. 2 hours of biting my own toenails in an attempt to distract myself from the contractions (since I put off getting it until I REALLY HAD TO) - and although I didn't fall asleep (more on that later) many people do end up getting a nap once the pain gets turned down, and that helps conserve energy for pushing.
Also, I wish people would stop comparing anything that happens in the general neighborhood of your uterus to "the pain of menstrual cramps." Those are different things, yo. (Although, I don't know - it has been 9 months since my last round of menstrual cramps, maybe I forgot that in order to deal with them you have to sit in a hospital bed, staring at a glowing light switch on the far wall because you lost the pretty little framed picture of a sunrise that you were going to use as a focus, breathing/moaning/singing/and/or/countin
g and rocking back and forth like an early victim in a psychological horror film who has seen something so horrible that they have gone from witty supporting character to drooling moron in the time that it took the hero to break down the door?)
Now that I think of it, when I miscarried last year, they gave me a pill to make my body let go of the baby, and the relevant bit of info that I found about it on the internet said that it caused "cramping similar to menstrual pain." I am still thinking of finding the tool who wrote that paper and punching him in the nose, and saying "that, my friend is a menstrual cramp" and then kicking him in the dick (for 8 hours straight) in order to illustrate the actual experience of taking his pills.
Hmm. Turns out I only like some men, and some drugs.
Perhaps I shall now look into how to add a picture of my beautiful baby to my next post, so everyone can know Tequila Jane and despair.
Also, next time I have some things to say about eating while in labor!
|Saturday, May 2nd, 2009|
|Oh Hai Internets
Ah, look - it's only been like 4 months since my last post. Sweet. That's no time at all in internet land, is it?
I've been lurking once in a while, reading a bit of Merlin fic (to which I mostly say "eh", although any show starring Giles will always be close to my heart, and the behind the scenes videos which reveal the actor playing Arthur as a total dork desperate to be friends with the guy playing Merlin warmed me up a bit.) I'm just not ready to let go of Space Gays on Crack, I guess.
Not ready to let go of Live Journal either, although it seems that the actual diaspora is now upon us in the form of Dreamwidth. (Not that I have anything against Dreamwidth - it's really just that change is bad and different is wrong.) I guess I'll just sit here in my rocking chair on the porch as the town dries up an all the young 'uns move to the big city. I don't really see moving until/unless I find something new to be fannish about, and there aren't really any hot prospects at the moment. Merlin really is a little too teenaged for me, and although Stargate 90210 has the potential of familiarity at least, it seems unlikely that those clowns who are writing it will strike a JohnShepperdesque goldmine twice.
I watched Kings for a bit, but got bored pretty quick with how dumb the princess is, and how wildly pretentious the whole universe looked. I still love Bones, but they don't need fic...
I do recommend a show on USA called "In Plain Sight" Winning on many counts, with its strong female lead, snarky and bizarre dialog, and partnership without the 'ship between the lead gal and the dude US Marshal (who is hilariously actually named "Marshall")
I guess that once I catch up on LJ, I'll have to start in on some more focused TV watching, and find someone new to love.
oh - and - to pick up where I least left off - I did leave the black dude with the criminal parts he wanted, and solved the problem by giving him a couple more small shots - so as to hopefully dilute the bad-black-man vibe. I'm not sure it worked, but when it comes down to it, I am a people-before-principles kind of gal - and I just couldn't break his heart.
|Sunday, January 18th, 2009|
So - one of the projects I am working on now has 10 people in it - all people who were involved before I was hired. Almost everyone is playing multiple roles. It's a story being told by people in the "future", about the past (early 30's Eastern Europe.)
There is one black guy in the cast. He has 3 roles. One of them is a political protester, who becomes a suicide bomber and kills (accidentally) the heroine's one true love. The second is a child molester, struggling to deal with his "unnatural urges" (that one is small - just a page or so.) The last is an "Adam" character, who eventually, from a place of total innocence, becomes the father of the next human race ("Eve" is white.)
The cast is set, but I do have both the power and authority to shift around some of the smaller roles. I talked to him about shifting him from the child molester monologue to a monologue (a little shorter, and less complex) by a guy who owns a mine. He was heartbroken.
I told him I thought it was shady the way the only black guy in the cast was playing the two overt criminals (suicide bomber and child molester.) He pointed out that there is certainly a lot of morally questionable and even possibly genocidal behavior on the part of a bunch of the white characters, which is true - although all of those characters are presented in some way as tragic heroes.
I said I thought it was important that when people watch this thing (or anything,ever, actually), they don't get one more piece of the black-men-are-criminals narrative put in their face. He argued passionately and articulately about the work he had done building those two characters, and about his performance of them as a work of art that he had created.
I told about how I've spent the last decade of my life actively working to usurp the presumptive narrative's positioning of p.o.c.s in every single story-telling event and work of art that I have created.
I made a decision about what to do, but I wonder what you guys think.
|Sunday, November 30th, 2008|
|AT LAST MY LOVE HAS COME ALONG!
Last night I dreamed I had sex with Joe Flanigan! Or possibly John Sheppard for part of the time, but mostly Joe Flanigan.
DEAR SUBCONSCIOUS: Y u take so long to give me love?
It was awesome - and only made more so by the way at the end of the dream there was a bit of red-hot making out with the scorchingly sexy German lawyer who has been subletting my old apartment for the past year and a half. (Not - please note - monanotlisa
, who is a scorchingly hot German lawyer, but continues to refuse steadfastly to live near by.)
Oh the details are slipping away, but there was definitely a bit where I was showing him (Joe? John? Who cares!) where he could get a sandwich (a strangely classy white-linen-tablecloth type place, which may have been supposed to be craft services - although really only on its finest day) and I was standing in front of the table looking out the window, and he came up behind me, and sort of stood with his body a millimeter away from mine, and I kept trying to talk about sandwiches, but it got sort of hard to breathe, and then he very very delicately started gathering my hair up in one hand, slowly slowly, one curl at a time, until my neck was all bare and shivery, and then he bent forward and just sort of whispered his stubble against my skin, and the second my knees went (UNDERSTANDABLY!) weak, he caught me around the waist with his other arm, and pulled me back against him, and we were both naked, and there was a table right there to bend over, so, well, WOOO WHOO!
Good job subconscious!
In other news, I have a lot of work to do today, so I am procrastinating by moving computer files around instead, and I discovered all the Big Bangs that I downloaded to read while I was traveling and never got around to. There like 5 or 6 files all between 600 and 800 KB, and then there is auburnnothenna
's, which is TWO THOUSAND AND THIRTEEN kb. Way to go Auburn!
(I admit I am still a little afraid to start reading it, because I am worried that I will get hurt - even though I sort of like that kind of hurt. But it's coming baby, it's coming.)
|Wednesday, November 5th, 2008|
|tomorrow and tomorrow
So - I got myself re-enfranchised.
I left the polling place incensed, after tearing up the "affidavit ballot" (which I assume a vote-counter would have torn up anyway later.) Then I hauled ass to a computer to check my registration - printed it out, and stuck it in my pocket, so I could seethe all day until I could go back to the polls.
I went back, and it turned out they had told me the wrong district in the morning (Not the wrong polling place - around here, you go to your polling place, and then you tell them your address, and they send you to a table that's specific for your district, and they look you up in the district book and off you go to the little cubby.)
I told myself that the problem was they were just overwhelmed in the morning with how ludicrously many more people were there than there usually are - but when I was back in the afternoon, arguing my case, it was basically deserted, and I saw the same thing happen to someone else! (I ended up chasing her down, and showing her the website to check and whatnot.)
Anyway - I voted! And we won! And of course we won my district (I assume unanimously) but man oh man, am I glad I am one of the numbers next to his name.
I cried some, when they called it, and I am still more moved than I can say. I can't believe this happened in my lifetime. I can't believe how it feels to be hopeful again.
I almost cried again when I saw what happened in California. So heartbreaking. I can't imagine my friends and neighbors turning around and telling me that my marriage doesn't get to exist.
But...we saw last night what some might consider the culmination of the last great civil rights battle. In spite of yesterday's defeat, I have hope that the next one won't take as long.
|Tuesday, November 4th, 2008|
|Holy Fucking Shit!
My name wasn't on the list at my polling place! Where I voted! 8 months ago! In the primary for THIS RACE! And during every piddly little dog catcher election in the last 6 years!
And they were like, "Use the affadavidt ballot." and I was like "WTF!"
And the little old lady running the thing said "Oh, don't worry about it, sometimes the computer just drops people. It will be ok"
And I was like "OMG! WTF! NOT OK!"
I am so angry I almost started crying. If my neighborhood goes for McCain, I will cut someone! Possibly the little old lady! Because when democracy fails, so does civilization! God Dammit!