walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (you elevate my SOUL)
Today we discovered that at some point in early December, some of our mail was delivered to the wrong address, oops. Luckily this doesn't seem to have had any significant consquences, EXCEPT that through the magic of mail carrier error, I get holiday cards in mid-January! On More Joy Day! Could there be anything more appropriate? So, enormous and heartfelt thank yous to [livejournal.com profile] meimmim, [livejournal.com profile] silentfire, and [livejournal.com profile] talitha78! And omg [livejournal.com profile] talitha78, that pin is so adorable! Thank you so much! :D

Also in honor of More Joy Day, I bring recs! Recs for vids that fill me with warm fuzzy feelings and/or make me roll around on the carpet kicking my feet and clapping like a seal! N.B. many of these are set to songs so unbearably catchy you will be earwormed within an inch of your life. I'd apologize in advance, but that's what makes them awesome! Sorted alphabetically by fandom (approximately):

cut for length and abuse of exclamation marks )
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (jf: this week's love song)
baby's first anonymous love meme! if you are full of holiday cheer, or are not full of holiday cheer but would like to share some anonymous love anyway, my thread is here!

i don't think i've seen this recced anywhere, but i wholeheartedly recommend you download and watch—perhaps repeatedly, as i have done!—[livejournal.com profile] kitakatzz's sga vid welcome to the black parade. i'm working on an overly long and gushing review, but the condensed version is !!!1! and <3!

today will be a good day. i don't know what i'm doing with the computer bag and two—two!—laptop sleeves now in my possession, though i think the postal service will be involved; and i'm continuing to drive myself crazy over the idea, but m. gives the thumbs up to applying to—and possibly ATTENDING—grad school on a whim, so here i go! i will decimate the stacks of paper before me this week, and also i will buy boots this week, and also this week, perhaps, i will wander on down to the gym to remind myself what it looks like. and what i look like when i'm wandering by there regularly! it will be a good day! exclamation marks are the best of omens.
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (it's all going on without you)
at this particular moment in time it's probably a good thing i'm on dial-up (*bites tongue*) because i was seized by this strange urge to write in song titles, all song titles, with links—of course!—to the corresponding files. and am i wrong, or is that shit a whole lot cooler in theory than in practice?

and that got me thinking about hyperlinks in general, and how brilliantly efficient they are, and how that efficiency can double as significance—you can make a hyperlink say anything you want, you can direct it anywhere, and when the name of a thing and its location are together at one point (i.e. in the link itself) and separated at another (i.e. in actual cyberspace; by definition a link points somewhere else), that's juxtaposition in action, that's expectations and possible surprises and irony waiting to happen. what do you call a thing, and what is it exactly? what's the relationship between the two? what do you want it to be? What Would René Magritte Do?

anyway, this was all brought to you by the fact that i had a good weekend, though i unfortunately did not get myself a brand-new girlfriend:

friday night i took desmond bagley's the tightrope men (my dad: "here! read this!") to dunkin' donuts and drank coffee on their couch until one a.m. while i got caught up in formulaic cold-war espionage that read like a movie. i'd asked [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker to text me, but she was actually working at work that night, whatever. we got it together eventually.

cousin m. and i ate chinese food while gorging on television saturday night. first we finished up the last disc of boomtown: man, i am so sorry to see that show end. though i think they must have been uncertain about whether they'd be coming back for another season (they did, but only for an episode or two, at weird times, and then the network killed them off), because the finale wasn't a cliffhanger in any way—it actually resolved major arcs and gave a bunch of characters closure. i'm still calling these spoilers, okay? okay. )

after we'd finished with boomtown we watched AMC's hustle, which was entertaining, and then the first episode of wonderfalls, which was FANTASTIC. it's dead like me without dead people. inanimate objects sing off-key until she does what they tell her, and she has chemistry with the cute bartender and hates the human race. i can't think of anyone less likely to major in philosophy, but whatever. she's awesome. and she looks like rory gilmore's misanthrophic older sister.

if i'd had my act even a little bit together, i might have been able to meet up with [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu and various other assorted cool people at barnies at two p.m. on sunday, but i hadn't. they brought their sketchbooks and ordered beverages and were, i hear, generally very cool and laid-back, and they're going to push back the time to four p.m. in the future, which will be better for so many of us.

though actually i won't be able to go this sunday either, as i'll be in BOSTON. well, technically i'll be in cambridge, but i'm sure we'll make it out to boston proper at some point(s). that is: AM GOING TO VISIT [livejournal.com profile] silentfire, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY. like, i bought plane tickets and everything. i'm flying up this friday and flying back not next tuesday but the tuesday after that, giving us a week and a half. my dad was like, "oh, boston? while you're there i want you to visit this obscure relative of yours whom you have never met," and i was all, "oh, good, that sounds like something i would love to do, wtf?" and yes, i still need to call my uncle. i hear it's chilly this time of year, but i have coats and scarves, etc., and know no fear. plus we intend, i'm pretty sure, to gorge ourselves on SGA footage, and lt. col. john sheppard, aka PILLAR OF HOTNESS, will no doubt keep us, um. warm.

so in lieu of the sketching circle i went to the gym, and then met up with [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu and her friend j. at the improv sunday night, as she had passes and invited us along. the emcee was amusing, but the opener (philadelphia) and the headliner (jim david) were hilarious. you know, sometimes you've been laughing so hard for so long that you think, "i might just throw up now and that wouldn't be funny at all," except that it WOULD be, because these are professionals. the improv has a two-drink minimum, so i opted for margaritas and got awesomely drunk. AWESOMELY. the kind of drunk that means i shouldn't even be thinking about mentally operating heavy machinery, but that just makes me (as mal put it) a little loopier than usual, a buzzing, cheerful, careful-where-you-fling-your-limbs drunk. other members of the audience got obnoxiously drunk and wouldn't shut up, but whatever. the comedians are professionals, and they know how to shut them down.

after the show mal wanted to throw away five dollars in the slot machines, so we did (though i think in the end it shook out to more than that), and then we hit up ben & jerry's for ice cream and sat with it outside and talked for a while, until our ice cream was gone and i was sober enough to drive myself home. mal's friend j. is a great guy—as all her friends are, she only hangs out with stand-up people, which i always feel bodes well for me—who was originally from a very small town in ohio but wears all-black now, and he giggles when he laughs. all told, a fantastic evening.

monday saw me grocery shopping for my mother and then attending step-and-sculpt with bob, a class that still kicks my ass and takes my name, but i'm working on that.

last night i watched [livejournal.com profile] barkley's SG-1 vid never die young and cried my eyes out. i'd downloaded it a couple of weeks ago, and i'd watched it and thought it was good, but i opened it back up last night and REALLY watched it and it just slayed me. her summary of it is "jack, death, life," which, yes, but it's so impossibly sad in theme and beautiful in execution: it's about being left behind—again and again—and how that's infinitely harder than being the one who leaves. i watched it half a dozen times in a row and kept crying. the song is by lori mckenna and it's able to make me cry all on its own, bringing the grand total of Songs That Make Me Cry to three (3). in case it got lost in all the blubber, that was a hearty recommendation for the vid and the song and the respective artists. go check them out.

(note: you can get to [livejournal.com profile] barkley's vid index from her livejournal sidebar; the site is password-protected, but she gives the relevant information in her vid announcements.)

for a less heartbreaking link, check out this news from language log:


A couple of months ago we were pleased to bring you the news that Patrick Creadon's documentary Wordplay had been accepted into competition at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival. Creadon's film focuses on New York Times crossword guru Will Shortz and his cultish followers, as well as providing a glimpse into the world of competitive cruciverbalism. Now it's Sundance time, and the buzz from Park City is quite promising.

monday made it six days in a row i'd been to the gym, so i get today off, HA. i'll probably—hopefully—finish my mother's scarf and maybe start on one for myself. wild and crazy times, wild and crazy.
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (the highest branch on the apple tree)
when last i managed to update about life in general, [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker was on her way into town: and she got here! and she stayed for a few days, during which we stayed up until five a.m. and knocked out all the SGA we hadn't seen together (excepting, still, "grace under pressure" and "the tower") plus various sad and bizarre and adorable items from the CVs of david hewlett and joe flanigan (in re: canadian cinema: o.O . . . O.o) and for the millionth time she tried to get me to articulate what it is i love about lt. col. john sheppard; she did not emerge victorious. more on that much later. *waves hand*

family came into town after that, my two cousins with their families, and we had tea for my dad's birthday last sunday with what felt and sounded like fourteen small children bouncing around the house, but was in reality only six. cake and coffee is delicious, but not sustenance, so i crashed after all the company except cousin m. had left, while we were getting down chanukkah decorations and setting up our menorahs (we have seven or eight, most handmade, and in our house everyone present gets to light one). good times! averted the small crisis with hydration and some protein, and then we got down to the serious business of scarfing down sweet-potato latkes and playing dreidel for pistachio nuts.

special to [livejournal.com profile] isilya: i have not forgotten about recipes for you! curried sweet-potato latkes are at the top of the list.

i had a dentist appointment on monday (or maybe tuesday? something). the receptionist called the day before to remind me, which was a damn good thing, as i'd had no clue. unfortunately i must have misheard her over the phone, because i showed up an hour early to what turned out *not* to be a 9:50 appointment after all. *facepalm* however! this wasn't even close to as bad as the two—two!—times i showed up an hour early to my wretched 8:30 a.m. anthro of religion class. so i ended up sitting with my book (always bring a book to doctor's appointments) in the bagel shop at the other end of the plaza and had a bagel and coffee (good bagels; lousy waitstaff) before, you know, a dental cleaning. so awesome. everything looks good, still cavity-free, blah blah blah have you ever considered bleaching your teethcakes.

randomly: the dog had some kind of skin irritation on his back, which the vet duly shaved and treated him for, and then they put him in one of those lampshade collars for the next two weeks so he couldn't worry at the patch. he's pathetic in it: he keeps knocking into things and trying to fit through small spaces, and i know i shouldn't think it's ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS, but i DO.

in general this past week was characterized by the successive lighting of more and more candles, the playing of several games of dreidel (note: dreidel is an amazingly boring game), and the eating of more and more delicious fried food. chanukkah says, "they tried to kill us, they didn't succeed, let's eat!" and "fried food: it's not just delicious, IT'S THE LAW." with various company (including cousin m., my visiting cousin l. and her two daughters, and [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu) in attendance on different nights, there have been three different kinds of latkes, salmon fritters, southwestern eggrolls, and—for the coup de grace this afternoon—sufganiyot, aka doughnuts with powdered sugar. and now we are putting away the electric wok and never speaking of this again until next year. after thanksgiving, the cookie-making FRENZY my mother got caught up in making gifts for colleagues, my father's birthday, and the holiday that oil built, we're calling uncle. it's going to be all whole grains, big green salads, and steamed things for us for a while. also i'm going to whip out my map and compass and try to find my way back to a regular routine at the gym. *scans horizon*

last night we had cheese and crackers and shrimp cocktail, and three of us (my mother, cousin m., and i) polished off two bottles of champagne. if it's true that whatever you're doing at midnight determines what you're going to be doing for the rest of the year, i was frantically posting last-minute john sheppard recs to [livejournal.com profile] rec50 with a three-glass buzz on; i don't know if that bodes well or ill.

SPEAKING of [livejournal.com profile] rec50, my john sheppard recs are all done, and you can find my table with links to all 46 of them here (or check out the john sheppard tag at the community here). i'm signed on for rodney for round two. things that make me cry are web pages with no self-referential url, authors who go by two or more names, and smart quotes. also fake lj-cuts (see: the part where i like to click on the link to a page, not its cut-tag, meaning i'm clicking on the WRONG THING if your lj-cut is really external) and target="_blank"—because i'm perfectly capable of opening a link in a new tab myself, kthx.

there have been, like, fourteen million stories posted on the internets, and i have fifty pages of holiday-challenge fic recs saved for sorting through later, encompassing yuletide, [livejournal.com profile] sga_santa, [livejournal.com profile] undermistletoe, [livejournal.com profile] shackinup_sesa, jingle bells, batman smells, [livejournal.com profile] ds_seekritsanta, DWNOGA, and [livejournal.com profile] go_exchange. the only yuletide fic i've read so far is istanbul (not constantinople), a singin' in the rain story which i recommend here without reservation. it's don and cosmo on the vaudeville circuit, and it's perfect! so well-tuned to the times and to them.

[livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker was at home for a while, then up in lakeland securing housing to go with her shiny new job, but she's here again now. she came in for the tail end of brunch at cousin m.'s today (featuring bagels and lox, blintzes, and MIMOSAS). right now she's sleeping on my bed and has been since ten p.m., when she said she wasn't falling asleep, she wasn't—maybe she would take a nap. *pets her deluded little head*
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (Default)
a. cold around the edges by [livejournal.com profile] out_there. READ THIS STORY. no one was around at three a.m. EST for me to foist it on, so i'm foisting it on all of you now. the short version is that rodney and radek discover time travel; it left me wired and shaking, it took me two read-throughs to understand it completely, and when it all clicked i realized [livejournal.com profile] out_there is a GENIUS. i hate giving anything away, and she's got all the warnings you'll need, so go read it, read it, read it.

b. last night1 i dreamed that 1) an old family friend had a carnival ride set up in his garage, a ferris wheel/gravitron crossover, which i was riding for free—or was i?; 2) i was playing a word-association game with myself, in my head, in which i paired gainesville with home2; 3) i'd done a livejournal meme that involved copying-and-pasting rules, in which i unwittingly promised to write FICLETS for people, and people were gleefully RESPONDING; 4) mutant houseflies were being pumped through a vacuum hose into the pool3, and we were likely going to be running from them in terror momentarily, but first we had bagels.4

c. gainesville thoughts are easy enough to trace to my aborted plans to travel to gainesville, via bus, last sunday, i.e. yesterday. those plans fell apart when people kept asking, "so when does [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker graduate?" and i said, "she already did, saturday" and then they said, "oh. wait, why are you going to gainesville?" and i had no answer. so jules was looking around her empty apartment and couldn't remember why staying was a good idea, and i couldn't remember why going was a good idea5, so we confusedly called the whole thing off. she's coming into town today . . . or tomorrow. ish. we'll watch more atlantis and maybe nip/tuck, and go 293487234 rounds on fic preferences and characterization.

d. my parents and i are planning to visit the atlanta crew over MLK, jr. weekend, which is fine and nice, until i remembered this afternoon while lying in bed that i have JURY DUTY beginning the ninth of january. best-case scenario is that i come in and they send me home, but i'm technically signed on for two weeks, and the worst-case scenario is, you know, i get assigned to a JURY for a trial that goes on however long. now i get to write a letter to federal court asking for a postponement, when really it was my fault for not remembering. i don't like being stupid, but i also hate trying to wiggle my way out of stupidity once it's happened.

e. [insert bitching about inherent laziness, lack of direction, why it's so completely uninvolved being me, the tribulations of living with parents who love me and want me to be around all the time, etc., etc.]

f. my library books are coming overdue. apparently i go through these phases where i'll read three, four, five books in a week and then be completely uninterested in reading anything6 for another two weeks, and then the cycle will repeat.

g. do you ever want to footnote your footnotes and realize you've lost all control of the situation?

1. honestly, it feels RIDICULOUS to say last night when in reality i didn't go to bed until after six a.m., [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker woke me up with a text message at ten a.m. (and i called her back), and then i slept again until two in the afternoon. but, whatever, okay?
2. which i then cried about to [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker when i called her back at ten, because SO WRONG.
3. we don't have a pool; i have no idea where any of this took place.
4. this list is not exhaustive. did you know that having vivid dreams right before you wake up is a sign of sleep deprivation? it doesn't sound right to me either.
5. disregarding my understandable lack of love for five-hour bus rides (though on this one i would have had plenty of crocheting and a shiny blue ipod (which i named hortense, i don't know if i mentioned) to keep me company) going to gainesville would have had the following benefits: a) weather that isn't eighty degrees and muggy, b) coffee, board games, and old movies at maude's, c) sweet potato fries consumed outdoors at cafe gardens, and d) (though i didn't realize this one until later) seeing [livejournal.com profile] silentfire, who could have driven down from georgia. but if i can finally get my ass up to boston to visit her next semester, wouldn't that be even COOLER?
6. i am always, always in the mood to read fanfiction.
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (dave barry explains it all)
a. in the absence of an actual job, my dad has proposed that he give me money for essentially acting as his secretary. he has ten years of piles of paper—bills, building plans, receipts, annual reports, business cards—and his least favorite chore in the world is sorting through and organizing it all. the paper trail has spilled over into at least four rooms in this house, and his attempt to consolidate it all into one room has been half-hearted at best and unsuccessful at worst. so, in exchange for setting up a filing system—and if you could see my hard drive, you would know how much i adore folders within folders—and paying the household bills, i am taking the money and running.

b. year 22, month 9, day 11 (toby: there was that time i was in elementary school) of career search: STILL NO PLAN. my mother actually asked the other day where i saw myself in five or ten years, and i didn't laugh in her face OR burst into tears, but i did have to quickly leave the room. honestly? i'm peter from office space. given the choice, i would do nothing.

c. [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker would like for me to roadtrip it up to gainesville this week, and i would like to go. the lack of a car puts a little crimp in this plan, but i'm going to see what i can do. i hear the weather is lovely this time of year!

d. speaking of lovely weather in places that aren't south florida: who would like a scarf? if you would like one, i would love to make you one. for testimonials i suppose you can refer to [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker, [livejournal.com profile] zeplum, [livejournal.com profile] vongroovy, [livejournal.com profile] silentfire, or [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu, all of whom got scarves last year that (they said) they liked. i owe [livejournal.com profile] isilya, but she's told me to hold off on sending anything until her living arrangements are settled (at which point she will apparently need plenty of warm-weather gear and accessories, as she has mentioned there may be things like chilblains in her future o.O); i just finished another one for mal and am about to start a new one for erika, but other than that i have no commissions and i'm in the mood. so let me know.

e. on saturday my dad woke me up at about one in the afternoon to ask if i was interested in going to an art fair. we ended up spending a couple of hours in the late afternoon at art in the park in the city of plantation, which turned out to be the perfect amount of time. it's a relatively small park and a correspondingly small fair, so we got to see just about everything, but without that eventual glazed and impenetrable feeling of supersaturation that always hits me at the end of a day at the museum or a bigger festival like coconut grove. my dad bought me two prints and an arepa.

f. lists are my new favorite thing. honestly, i don't remember how to write a livejournal entry anymore.

g. [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu and i finally got to see RENT ) we went late on a wednesday night and were the only people in the theater. go us.

h. the other day [livejournal.com profile] cimorene111 posted a glowing rec for christmastime in the city, a CSI:NY story (mac/danny) by [livejournal.com profile] stellaluna_, and i thought to myself, "score!" because i once saw an episode of CSI:NY, and that's all the qualification i need these days to feel myself up to the task of reading in any given fandom. lacking that, a primer will suffice—pictures are a bonus, but not strictly required. so i read this story, and it was fantastic, and then i followed the link back to her [livejournal.com profile] fanfic100 table and read all of the stories she had listed there; and THEN i settled down in earnest with her webspace and her livejournal memories and burned through her entire oeuvre. i ended with the light from a dying star series, which is this dark and drowning work of beauty that feels like taking a bat to a windshield, because they keep breaking and breaking, but they never shatter.

i. saturday night cousin m. and i ate more sushi and worked our way through disc 3 of boomtown. the more i see of this show the more i fall in love, and the sadder i am that this single season is all we'll ever have. this is a show that cared deeply about continuity and quality, that expected a lot of its audience, and then rewarded them. the A, B, C, D, and E plots all interconnect and serve a purpose—a unified purpose. everything works in support of the plot and themes of the episode and futher character development; everything they do reinforces what we've seen and then tells us something new.

on the how-much-do-we-know-about-our-crimefighters? spectrum, boomtown falls a lot closer to NYPD blue than law & order, but everything's a slow reveal. they definitely control the narrative. and i like these people. they're good people. cutting for, um, spoilers? because somebody someday might watch this show )

j. i don't talk much about NCIS, but i love it. it's got great banter and the adorably grumpy mark harmon. actually i like all the characters, even zeva; i'm not crazy about the director, but i am pretty crazy about abby and ducky, and even tony in his own smarmy, approval-seeking way. i don't talk about it much because half the time i forget to watch it, and i'm not particularly fannish about it—though i did read all the recs from the last polyamorous update.

k. catch-up: i'm two weeks behind on house, but i do have them on tape; i'm *three* weeks behind on SGA, but [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker sent me "epiphany" and "critical mass" in the mail, and i'm downloading "grace under pressure" piecemeal from [livejournal.com profile] oxoniensis right now, so one day i won't have to press my sad little nose up against the glass and stare longingly at everyone's freaking cut tags anymore.

l. grey's anatomy )

m. if there's anyone within lj-shot who hasn't downloaded both rumble by [livejournal.com profile] shalott and [livejournal.com profile] cesperanza and welcome home by [livejournal.com profile] permetaform, for the love of god, please do that right now. no passing go, no two hundred dollars, etc. the first is HILARIOUS, seriously, seriously hilarious. i'm going to call these spoilers, because it's just so much better if you don't know what it's about until it's happening ) and [livejournal.com profile] permetaform's vid is this gorgeous look at elizabeth and atlantis set to this equally unbelievably gorgeous music, and i keep abusing adjectives, but it's BEAUTIFUL and the story it tells is amazing.

n. site-src: museum of media history: in the year 2014, the new york times has gone offline. the fourth estate's fortunes have waned. what happened to the news? and what is EPIC?

o. next time: ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE ALPHABET. *facepalm*
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (like i was a supermodel uh-huh)
my rec50 table )

i've mentioned what a hardship it's been to read through the hundreds and hundreds of stories i've saved over the last six months, right? *hand to forehead*

the prompts make it challenging, which i understand is the whole point. at the moment i'm aiming for all fifty, but i'd rather not settle for a story just because it happens to fit. there are prompts i find myself wishing i had been given to fill, the themes that writers seem to return to again and again when they're writing about john sheppard: home; abandonment; isolation; torture; post-traumatic stress disorder; leadership; loyalty; sacrifice; origin myths. i still mean to talk about fanon vs. canon someday, but obviously not today, and in the meantime so many other people are busy hashing it out! (see here, here, here, here, etc.)
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (when there's nothing left to burn)
frankly, i've been waiting for wilma to bide its time over the yucatán just long enough for the jet stream to stop dipping, at which point the storm would continue on its north-northwesterly track, eventually slamming into the gulf coast. it's been that kind of year.

instead the hurricane has been over land for days now and has been downgraded to category 2 (100 mph winds), but seems to finally, finally be moving. the experts are still predicting a sharp turn to the northeast and a lot of acceleration to get to the west coast of florida by tomorrow night and the east coast half a day later. broward county schools have cancelled class on monday. my dad put up most of the shutters tonight (the ones we didn't bother taking down after the last storm failed to do much damage) and will put up the rest tomorrow morning, before brunch at cousin m.'s and hopefully before the weather gets too bad. and then she'll come over to our place with the kittens, and we'll bring over my grandmother and her aide, and it'll be a party!

on the fannish front:

a. as everyone seems to be doing these days, i have found can't take the sky and have been downloading caps and making icons from them like craaazy. you can find the finished ones from the first three episodes behind the cut.

30 total )

b. also i have found new atlantis; see above re: feverish downloading and subsequent icon-making.

c. i claimed john sheppard over at [livejournal.com profile] rec50. their motto is because reading is easier than writing, and that is so, so true. this has meant having to re-read the 499 atlantis stories i have saved to my harddrive, some of them more than once. my life = so hard. it's also meant i've been thinking more about fanon, canon, extra-canon, the magnification of canon, etc., etc.; more on that later.

d. at long last i have acquired and watched atlantis episodes 209 and 210! though i think i need to watch them again before my thoughts are anything like coherent. i'm ready for the post-ep fic i've been resolutely avoiding if anyone has recs.

e. in the absence of 1) a netflix subscription, or 2) money, i have raided the library catalog for television-shows-on-dvd, and though i found it sadly lacking, i have managed to request the first disks of arrested development, the office (BBC version), and babylon 5. on my list to see one day are also scrubs, numb3rs, coupling (BBC version), homicide, wonderfalls, wise guys, quantum leap, mst3k, farscape, battlestar gallactica, stargate: sg-1, the dead zone, and all or most of the CSIs. as i asked [livejournal.com profile] silentfire the other day, WHEN DID SCI-FI HAPPEN TO ME? i blame fandom. <3!

while i was in the library catalog, i also requested BOOKS: jonathan strange and mr. norrell by susanna clark; the man who mistook his wife for a hat and other clinical tales by oliver sacks; kitchen confidential by anthony bourdain; and the man who loved only numbers: the story of paul erdős and the search for mathematical truth by paul hoffman.

f. did everyone but me already know about [livejournal.com profile] shrift's firefly story big damn zombies, sir? jayne gets ZOMBIFIED. i laughed so hard i started wheezing. i don't even want to give away any of the lines, just read it if you haven't already.
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (with a cigarette there on your lips)
saturday night

the parents and cousin m. and i went out to downtown hollywood for an "art walk," which in principle is a nice way for some of the galleries and shops to showcase their work and get people in the door, and in practice is actually like a pub crawl, but with art and tchotchkes and finger food in place of, you know, ale. some of the art was quite striking and beautiful; some of it was easily surpassed by the shows my high school ap art class put on. it was september in south florida, so it was warm and muggy even well after sunset, but in the course of our walk i downed a glass of champagne and a glass of wine, and then finished it all off with two scoops of the most amazing gelato, so i was feeling no pain.

after we got home i planted myself in front of the computer and chatted with [livejournal.com profile] silentfire while i read my way through the harlequin challenge stories at [livejournal.com profile] sga_flashfic and laughed myself into a wheezing fit. seriously, these authors need to write harlequins for a living. were they born awesome, or did they have to go to awesome school and take advanced degrees? i kept sending erika links and summaries and back-cover blurbs and choice quotes, followed by my reactions, e.g. *dies* and *DIES* and *dies and dies and is reanimated and DIES AGAIN*. that last was to [livejournal.com profile] hyperfocused's TEASER that ended with An all-knowing Mountie, a know-it-all Canadian Physicist, and two American men with experimental hair fight against the odds to brave the wilds of the Yukon in Overdue South.

i was up and rolling around in the crack until after seven in the morning. at that point i had a dozen stories still unread in open tabs, but it was, you know, after seven a.m., and the parents tend to get tetchy when they hear me heading to bed just as they're waking up.


i had myself a great workout, and, and. i can't really remember much of sunday. my mom and i visited my grandmother, who was pretty perky and very chatty; we had a huge vegetarian taco salad for dinner and finished off season one of sports night. i'd just like to take this moment to state right now, for the record, that i love dan rydell, and i love josh charles for being dan rydell, and i really wish we saw more of his mouth him around these days. i love him and casey together, even when i'm not picturing them comfortably in love and rejoindering happily ever after, because they're such good *friends* first.

earlier my mother had been watching season three gilmore girls, particularly a scene where rory comes downstairs to find lorelai going through stacks and stacks of all the catalogues they receive, with the good intentions of calling the companies to cancel the duplicates, but she bails mid-project, as rory had predicted; in despair, rory calls after her, "these catalogues are gonna be here forever!" to which lorelai replies, "no they won't—they're biodegradable." that scene, plus watching josh charles, et al. give life to aaron sorkin's dialogue, led me to an epiphany regarding interpretations of characterization and fanfic, especially concerning the recent kerfuffle over [livejournal.com profile] rageprufrock's hindsight, and the epiphany was delivery.

one of the criticisms of hindsight that i remember most clearly was that rodney's characterization was off, specifically that he shouted all the time. i had to admit that he did do a lot of yelling, that it made him come off as shrill, and i had a little trouble reconciling that with the rodney i saw, until i realized it was more a problem of translation and transcription than characterization. because on the show rodney does do a lot of shouting—except that's not quite the right word for it. the prototype in my mind for "yell" isn't what necessarily comes out of his mouth onscreen, though it might be the best word to describe it.

it's easier to go from the written word to the spoken one: there are layers and layers of nuance to add to a single line-reading, incorporating tone and speed and emphasis, facial expressions and body language; you could perform any given line a hundred different ways, but when the time comes to transcribe that performance, the hundred different readings are compressed back into a single line of dialogue—plus descriptions of body language and facial expressions, the context clues of the entire scene, and adverbs (use sparingly). but one of the best tools that a fanfic writer has is that we know the characters: we know what they look like, sound like, how they move; if i can hear a character in a story i'm reading, that is it, that's the best thing. i think what i do too often is read the story and try to let the words give rise to the action, instead of giving the characters a chance to act out the words. so the text says rodney yells, and that strikes me as not quite right; but david hewlett could pull it off, and suddenly rodney's speaking snappily and unhappily, exasperatedly and maybe even angrily, but it's rodney, it's not all-caps anymore. i loved hindsight pretty unequivocally the moment i laid eyes on it, but i take my epiphanies where i find them.

on an unrelated sga fanfictional note, i am a sucker—a SUCKER—for that moment when john is smarter than rodney expects. i LIVE for that. and as [livejournal.com profile] silentfire said, rodney's always surprised! every time! he is nothing if not predictable.


my father woke me up today, but it was almost one p.m. at the time, and it was because he needed help putting up the hurricane shutters, so resentment was given no opportunity to build. we're only expecting tropical-storm-force winds in broward county, but my parents regretted not putting up the shutters a couple of weeks ago when katrina came through, so up they went today. no harm in it, better safe than sorry, etc., etc., and it's more comforting to hear things slamming into the metal than into the windows. between the two of us it only took a little over an hour and a half, under hot hot sunny skies with the occasional darker cloud passing overhead bearing a drizzle, and a stiff breeze that waxed and waned. when we were all done and i went inside, dripping sweat and dirty from climbing in all our shrubbery, the dog came bounding up to me, freaked out by the noise we'd been making and the way it had gotten steadily darker in the house at three in the afternoon.

it's a weird feeling, artificial nighttime inside when the sun's high in the sky, and it's weird to look at from the outside too. a house with hurricane shutters up looks suddenly blind. a boarded-up house is a signal of abandonment, but this is a matter of protection: we seal up the walls and ourselves inside. i walk down the hallway and glance out the back doors, but my line of sight is abruptly shortened to the metal panels a couple of inches beyond the glass. it's the constant visual equivalent of feeling for the landing at the top of the stairs when there's really one more step. the dog seems to have gotten over it; these days the cat only moves back and forth between my pile of dirty laundry and his food bowl and litterbox.

and then we threw an impromptu hurricane party, like you do. my mom and i picked up wine (frank at the liquor store is a super-nice guy who knows his stuff and is thrilled to recommend things we might like), fish and chicken at delaware chicken farm, and a prescription for my grandmother at target. (we delivered it to her too, as she had a new caretaker start today and that kind of transition confuses her terribly. sometimes she falls asleep, and when she wakes up can't differentiate between dreams and memories.) cousin m. came over after she'd put up her own shutters, for wine and fish in this incredible sauce that my mother whipped up from the tomato sauce that had been languishing in the refrigerator, garlic, onions, red peppers, and i know not what. we watched how i met your mother; i forgot about the premier of kitchen confidential, but i'm hearing very good things about it.

i've been working through the rest of the harlequin stories and the latest recs from [livejournal.com profile] ship_recs all night. at one point i solved the sudoku in three minutes, forty-six seconds, and i wanted a COOKIE, or like, sirens to go off and quarters to start flying out of the cd-rom drive.

we have hurricane days like other people have snow days, and there's no school tomorrow, though i think cousin m. is still obliged to show up at work. i'll be sleeping in, just as usual; in case of power outage we're in good shape for bottled water and peanut butter, my ipod is fully charged, and i've got a stack of unread books that just won't quit. house and NCIS are on tomorrow though, so hopefully it won't come to that.
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (yeah you worry too much kid)
i know i'm late to the season one sg:a party, and i know "home" has been done to death, but it's new to me, so.

109: home )

i've been promised ninja!john in the storm/the eye, up next.

and, okay, [livejournal.com profile] rageprufrock is writing another atlantis story, this one involving john as a stripper and it is SO AWESOME that i have no words other than AWESOME, that's the extent of my vocabulary. i could read about john being john and doing john things forever and ever and ever. bell curve, or, ladies night at the boom boom room, a work in progress.

[livejournal.com profile] ciderpress is talking about joe flanigan's accent here if anyone wants to 1) weigh in, or 2) upload samples of your own american accent for comparison and contrast. which would be fun for everyone! i'll do it if you will?

eta: he grew up on a small ranch in *nevada*, this makes SO MUCH SENSE omg.

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (inside the finest little space)
birthday dinner for my mum went off very well last sunday, though the cake didn't so much. that, however, was through no fault of my own, but the fault of the oven (it did the exact same thing the last time my mother tried it a few months ago), and we've determined that my mother hasn't been doing nearly enough baking recently to establish the proper temperature levels of the new oven, and we'll just have to keep at it until we get it right. it's all in the name of science. and then last night we all went out for a birthday dinner on her actual birthday, which would have been more fun if the kids had been less cranky, but was still fun, and ended in ice cream. i've yet to get my mother a birthday present of my own, but have engineered the giving of both a probe thermometer (for meat and poultry) and season one of northern exposure, both big hits. hopefully we'll get to watch an episode or two before c. and the boys go home on saturday.

s. and i studied yet again on tuesday, and i'd forgotten we were supposed to meet—again—today, so i didn't set an alarm and was, of course, late. it was also a day where i couldn't do math in stupid ways, and that's irritating. but! today was the first night of bellydancing class for me and cousin m. and that was a good time. there are fourteen women in the class, from early late teens or early twenties to mid-fifties (plus one young girl who came with her mom), and it's amazing how awkward and utterly uncoordinated some people are, but we're having fun. i don't think i'll be able to lift my arms tomorrow.
[eta: my shoulders are okay so far, but i'm sore in strange places, e.g. my hips and obliques. this is going to be better than pilates.]

[livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker was in town for a spell earlier in the week and is expected to reappear for the weekend, but has still not read harry potter and the half-blood prince, making all proto-fic babble on my part completely impossible ([livejournal.com profile] silentfire is my voice of encouragement and sanity, thank god). instead she keeps asking spoilery questions which i keep refusing to answer. we did have a good time though, rehashing conspiracy theories (conclusion: dumbledore is an evil, evil man) and making our heads hurt trying to track the references and allusions. i mean, dumbledore has a scar above his knee, just like odysseus did (and it identified him as the rightful ruler when he finally got back to troy 20 years later), but what does that MEAN?

but what's really important is that 1) [livejournal.com profile] rageprufrock finished hindsight and it was just as amazing as you might have hoped, and 2) i have been watching actual episodes of stargate:atlantis and am so in love it's passed being not even funny anymore and is funny again. as expected, i have approximately 3987234 screencaps from the eight episodes i have watched so far, and will probably post a whole bunch of icons for the taking once i make them. in the meantime,

i babble! for so long! so much babble! )

"home" is the next episode up. like hawkeye pierce, i am so excited i could plotz.

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (he said "the world is as soft as lace")
Y'all, I did something so bad to my neck in my sleep last night. So bad that I had to think very carefully about how I was going to get out of bed when I woke up early this afternoon, and after I did make it upright, the first thing I lunged for was the heating pad, and the heating pad and I then communed for a couple of hours. I've gotten back about three times the range of motion I woke up with, which is still less than half of what I'm used to. There was a time in there when it was warm and loosening up that I thought I'd be able to make it to the gym today after all, but both parents made that-probably-isn't-the-best-idea-you've-ever-had noises, plus I can't even pretend to look over my left shoulder and therefore can't drive; also it hurts when I walk. In summation: ow. I took care of my body and my body abandoned me.

It turns out I'm going to be taking bellydancing lessons with cousin M. for the next six or eight Thursdays. I agreed to it because 1) I don't think she was going to do it if I wasn't, but she really wanted to; and 2) my dad called across the house to tell me she was on the phone when I was in the kitchen and had just sliced a nectarine in half: I answered with the knife and the nectarine in hand, and the phone cord is like two feet long so I was stuck holding onto both of them and dripping for the duration of the call—which was long, and consisted of four parts—so I was looking to end it and get back to the sink as quickly as politeness would allow. And then suddenly I was taking bellydancing lessons. Okay.

I started re-reading the Harry Potter books starting with Philosopher's Stone, intending to take epic, epic notes for both research and general knowledge purposes, but first got distracted by properly coding my notes, and then got totally absorbed in Chapter 4 ("Yer a wizard, Harry Potter!"). Considering how cold HBP left me (and, as I told [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker, I don't know if that's just because I approached it with my analyzation glasses on or what, but I thought other people had had the same reaction?) I was greatly heartened to find I was still thrilled and touched by the world we were establishing and that Harry was finally gaining entrance to. I have not yet made it past Chapter 4.

My family and I have finished Season Eight of M*A*S*H and have therefore exhausted our current supply. To compensate, we've cracked open the Sports Night DVDs. It was a fantastic show, and would feel even MORE fantastic if only every episode upon re-viewing didn't feel like a dress rehearsal for The West Wing.

As for tonight's network television, namely the episode "Heavy" of House, does S1 House talk need to go behind a cut? watch me now as I err on the side of caution )

But! Oh! Livejournal, since last we spoke [livejournal.com profile] rageprufrock posted both Part 3 AND Part 4 of Hindsight, and says now we can probably expect two more parts before it wraps up, if anyone has been keeping away out of habitual WIP-avoidance. Who are you people, by the way? Where does all that cast-iron self-control COME FROM?

I love Said the Gramophone so much, both for the music they feature and the methods they come up with for talking about the music. There was, for example, Nikto Ti Nepovie Pravdu by Zivé Kvety, "the hottest garage-pop band in Bratislava. Yes, Slovakia," about which Sean said,

If this song were having a conversation with itself:

SONG: Hey! Are you going to the movie?
Song: Movie? Look what I'm doing!
SONG: You're jumping up and down on the grass!
Song: I'm jumping up and down on the grass!
SONG: Yes! That looks fun!
Song: Join me! Look, I'm baking cookies too!
SONG: My electric guitar is a baseball bat that only hits home-runs!
Song: Thank god we're no longer controlled by the Communists!

How can you not appreciate people who appreciate something so much? I don't find every description they post appealing, and I don't adore every song I download, but I love plenty, and no matter what, I love reading what they have to say.

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (a thousand little paper cuts)
Oh my god, am I only just now noticing that "Dark Mark" rhymes? I mean, it sounds . . . marketable. Like a water gun. "The Dark Mark 3000! Impress your friends! Inspire fear and panic in the hearts of your enemies! Cadre of Death Eaters to back you up not included."

I haven't finished reading A Feast in Azkaban, but I got a good way through it last night and holy shit you need to read it too. It's Sirius in Azkaban, but it's also Sirius's life, and this is *my* Sirius, even if he's not as much fun as Sirius can be; these are his darkest moments. It gets him and it gets the ethos and atmosphere of the books, how sad they are and how tragic.

[livejournal.com profile] silentfire has been trying to get me to write fic for something like three years, and for three years I've been rebuffing her easily by saying that I have no stories to tell—and that if and when I find a story, I'll write it. I have the horrible suspicion that one has found me. There's a text file called "proto-fic" on my desktop. It consists of an outline and references to passages and many notes to self. I have raided my mother's classroom and am now in possession of all six books. I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.

And now I bring you some Book 7 spec, partly based on HBP SPOILERS )

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (his uncle was a crooked french canadian)
My HBP thoughts finally got written up over here. I don't know if I said much, but I sure did talk a lot.

Other things I have done in the past two weeks:

S. and I studied together three (3) separate times for the GRE. It's utterly demoralizing to be set the task of doing middle-school mathematics problems and not be able to do them, since I haven't done them since, you know, *middle school*. There's nothing like being asked to solve a linear equation like 4 - 5(2y+4) = 4 and hearkening nostalgically back to sixth grade. I keep conflating four steps in my head like I'm used to doing, and then I mess up on the arithmetic—it's been way too long since I worked with numbers on a regular basis. My dad is all confused about the relevance of this test, and I just keep saying, "don't get me started."

On Saturday I got 214 pages into HBP before and after dinner, and then [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu called around 9:30 and said she felt like she should be going to a movie, so she swung by and collected me for the 10:05 showing of Bewitched. It was cute, we laughed a lot, and we snorted a lot. We had fun, but I don't think I'd actually recommend it. We also saw five or six trailers, one of which was for Elizabethtown, where Orlando Bloom is a pretty, pretty boy, though I dislike Kirsten Dunst for being smug and smirky; and one of which was for RENT: a fabulous trailer, beautifully shot and of course their voices are all incredible (Jesse L. Martin on "or the way that she diiiiiied" = goosebumps omg). They're all way too old (I mean, Mimi is supposed to be nineteen—and look like she's sixteen) but that's okay! and I am excited about it.

Then we found a Dunkin' Donuts on US-1 and sat down with our donuts and coffee and cards for a couple of rounds. Technically they closed at 1:00, but the drive-through was open later, so the lady didn't mind us staying a while; we headed out by 1:30 or so. We got caught by the late-night train, the long and slowly-moving one, and started a game of regular-card Uno while we waited. We finished it off in my driveway and then sat in the dark with the car running for a while longer, just talking. Only the animals were awake when I finally came in. We were all supposedly heading to the beach for breakfast tomorrow; I left a note telling my parents to wake me up twenty minutes before they wanted to leave and I would be ready.

. . . However, it turned out that I was the first one up Sunday morning (c. 8:45) even though I'd been the one to go to sleep at five. We did make it out to the beach, though it was more brunch-time than breakfast-time by the time we got there. We stopped at the organic market for lettuce and parsley. At home I continued reading HBP, stopping for dinner consisting of bruschetta and goat cheese on toasted artisan bread plus enough wine to get buzzed on, then roasted chicken over sweet potatoes and some sauteed vegetables. My mother's been on-vacation-without-leaving-home and not cooking, but she broke down tonight. Started Season Eight of M*A*S*H and we cried and cried when Radar left. And then we cried and cried some more when BJ broke down at the end of the next episode, after his incredible all-night drinking binge.

We've been promising ourselves for weeks, but Mal and I set aside this Thursday for movie day! Movies watched:

1) Say Anything. Everyone should have a Lloyd Dobson: being a good boyfriend is totally his calling in life.

2) Saved! Which was HILARIOUS. Whoever said Macauley Culkin was the best part of this movie? You are correct! But everybody else was great too.

3) Ghost World. Um, weird. Steve Buscemi is always creepy. And the ending kinda came out of nowhere, though it was intriguing. I loved her clothes.

4) I <3 Huckabees. Quirky and arty, and I loved it. Also in which Jude Law has what I think must be the least successful American accent ever attempted on stage or screen. Awesomely bad. Though I saw him (unfortunately) in Sky Captain, and he couldn't hold on to a single dialect there either. I'd heard this movie didn't have a plot, which is confusing, because there absolutely was not only a plot, but a theme, a message, a mystery, development, epiphanies, revelations, and a very satisfying ending. Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman were cute as could be.

Also in the past two weeks, I have been to a gym exactly one (1) time, but I just got signed up at the health club starting tomorrow, so I will be attending regularly once again, hurrah.

[livejournal.com profile] ciderpress has recently discovered Stargate: Atlantis and is all a-squee about it, especially Major John Sheppard, and just reading about it makes me clap my hands and squeak. The North American DVD release date is November. In the meantime, [livejournal.com profile] rageprufrock has just started an AU called Hindsight (Part 1: In which somebody expresses their true feelings for Rodney, John isn't able to find Rodney's head injury and never joined the Air Force, and Montana's tourists really get a run for their money) that is AWESOME and will hopefully be a billion chapters long, but I will take whatever I can get.

I'm going to go read a book now.

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (Default)
Well, hurricane season has dashed off to an early—and roaring—start this year. This time I live on the fortunate coast: we just got whapped with some wayward tropical-storm-strength bands as Dennis moved off Cuba and up through the Gulf. On Friday the sun was out, but the wind was kicking up all day; it got dark around 5:30, started raining around 5:45, and poured intermittently thereafter. Our local CBS affiliate pre-empted Numb3rs in favor of special hurricane coverage, omg DIE, sensationalist local news, DIE, DIE. The storm wasn't even coming near us! They couldn't have updated at the commercials? Run a ticker at the bottom of the screen? Useless. They fail at network television.

In lieu of the Brothers Eppes, I started watching M*A*S*H Season Six, finishing on Saturday. Charles = SO OBNOXIOUS OMG. For all his snobbery, he has no class. If he were only a little kinder, quieter, more generous, or less smug, the world—or at least the camp—could be at his feet. Instead everyone's against him, everything backfires on him, everything's a fight he insists on bringing on himself. Does he ease up in later seasons? He must, but I can't remember.

I found the episode "Images," the one with Cooper, The Amazing Crying Nurse, to be unsuccessful in almost all ways. First of all, Margaret was right: neither Margaret nor anyone else should have given a flying fuck whether or not Cooper's little heart bled for all those poor wounded boys—I mean, yes, she should care, as empathy for human suffering is one of the things that gives life meaning and separates us from the insane and sociopathic, but it wasn't relevant—everyone just cared whether Cooper could do her fucking job. Cooper might have been a fine nurse (though we saw no evidence of that), but she couldn't hold her shit together and therefore did not belong in their unit—no judgements made or passed, but she was endangering lives by freezing up. I'm not saying whether or not everyone was right that Cooper should be given more time to come to grips with the realities of working in a MASH unit (weighing an unavoidable adjustment period against the high stakes and the consequences of screwing up), but every time they said Margaret was an ice maiden with a heart of stone for not indulging Cooper's falling apart, I wanted to smack them. They were all, "it's just that she has feelings! Unlike you!" when the whole point was that you can have all the goddamn feelings you want, but you can't let them get in the way. Margaret has wild, swinging, deep emotions she keeps tightly controlled except for when she doesn't, and the writers' decision to have her bond with a stray dog and be devastated by its subsequent death just to show her humanity and allow her to identify with Cooper was both ridiculous and insulting, to the character and the viewing audience alike.

If "subtlety" isn't their middle name, neither is "continuity." They lose on backstory (how many parents everybody has, where they're from, how long they've been in Korea) as well as the day-to-day details: just to nitpick, in the episode where Col. Potter is painting Charles's portrait, Charles is posing with his right side facing Col. Potter, but it's his left 3/4 profile we see in the finished portrait. Whoops!

On Friday my mom and I were still moping through our colds (mine really didn't seem that bad, not nearly as bad as my mother was feeling—but possibly nothing will ever seem very bad in comparison to the deathflu; also I will take any and all excuses to shuffle from room to room reading and watching DVDs). We had zero appetite but sent my father out for pizza for dinner. We kept forgetting to send him out for ice cream.

Saturday I got us ice cream. I watched some of Season Seven M*A*S*H, ran to the store for ice cream, and went out with my family and some family friends for dinner. The weather was truly, truly gross. You live in South Florida, and you think you know what humidity is, but you have no idea. Hurricanes and tropical storms are low-pressure systems, and you feel that: the air feels lighter, less resistant, and also softer. The wind blows warm, which is almost worse than not blowing at all.

Sunday I did laundry and went stir-crazy. [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu came to my rescue and got me out of the house today, sweeping me off to lunch at Einstein's (a late lunch, because while she called me at 10:30 when she was done with her eye appointment, and I'd heard the phone ring and planned to get up and call her back in just a few minutes, in reality I fell back asleep and woke up three hours later; we got to Einstein's by 3:30), a quick swing through Ross (where I got a green t-shirt that has a picture of an orange and text beneath it reading "can't concentrate"), to Pearle Vision to help Cousin M. pick out a pair of frames (in the end we went with the double-squeal signal of approval), to Barnes & Noble for frappuccinos, cookies, and magazines (it's time to get a subscription to CMYK already), and home in time for dinner. Dinner was my mother's vegetable soup from the freezer, thawed and waiting for me in the pot.

My parents watched Yankee Doodle Dandy (newly acquired on DVD!) after dinner, a family favorite, but I plonked myself down at my computer and read Sacrificial Drift, the sequel to The Taste of Apples. It's SG:A, and yowza. Auburn has quite the knack for breaking me into tiny little pieces. There's more than one go-around of breaking-apart-and-putting-back-together-again here: it's like chanting he loves me, he loves me not and hoping against hope that your flower has an odd number of petals. Special for [livejournal.com profile] isilya: the POV shifts are explicitly signaled this time. I thought of you.

Fluxblog described a song today thusly: "If you are an insecure doormat-y sort of guy dealing with an insensitive girlfriend who makes up for her outrageous cruelty by being quite a handful in the bedroom, then this is YOUR summer jam, especially if you're into Danish twee-wave." I love the mp3 blogs! I flipped through Filter today, but I always slink away from it feeling inadequate, like I am not indie enough for them. Part of it is feeling like there's too much music out there to know; part of it is feeling like I just don't have the same ear to listen to all these songs with—though a lot of that is probably just a function of listening to an awful lot of songs. Right now I am a-swim in fantastic music, especially Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, especially their "Details of the War" (which I got a little while back at Said The Gramophone). It is haunting and waily and I can't make out all the lyrics (which is driving me nuts), but they include the line you will pay for your excessive charm—plus it has acoustic guitar thrumming like hoofbeats and some truly well-deployed harmonica. Their CD goes on the must-have list.

In addition to the music blogs, I also depend upon the kindness of strangers, e.g. [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker (with whom I have been playing a truly epic game of phone tag—if phone tag were an Olympic sport, we'd be bringing home the gold every four years) who posted a bunch of yousendit links to cool, funky songs the other day. One of them was a mash-up of "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" set to Guns 'n' Roses' "Paradise City," and it is beyond catchy—it feels like the next logical step in the evolutionary chain.

Unless I have the day wrong, S. and I are meeting up at Barnes & Noble tomorrow to once more tackle the GRE practice tests. I can't help thinking that these little get-togethers would be a lot more useful to me if I studied between sessions.
walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (people can lose their lives in libraries)
You know what I need? A Stargate: Atlantis icon. Of John. And/or Rodney. Wither shall I go? Who has the hook-up?

These are the stories I've read and saved in the past couple of weeks and am now recommending to you:

Stargate: Atlantis

Exigencies by Rivier
*whistles long and low* Check out the plot, the POV, the dead-on characterization, and the implications.
He's half the bulk of Calmoore, but something about this man makes her bodyguard look like an amateur, a fake. He smells of sweat and blood and metal and dirt, and a static crackle of nervous energy. He's lean, and handsome, and she's never met anyone so frightening in her life.

As Seen On Television by Layton Colt
This is just so damn cute. It would make more sense if deathbed cave-in sex were bad sex, right?
As they headed back into the hall, there was that moment of awkwardness two people who have been caught in a cave-in and had sex because they were going to die, but didn't, in fact, actually die, always experience once things are safe again.

Under the Influence by Chelle
John's expression turned incredulous. "Nice? You called a meeting because Rodney is being nice?"

Intersections by Kaneko
Seriously though, everybody read this within twenty-four hours of its posting, right? The pre-Atlantis story, clocking in at just over 150K. A strong candidate for best ending of a work of fanfiction. And the "fan" there is optional.
It becomes a joke between them - how little they have in common.

The Weight of My Hand by Chelle
John would tell Rodney what he imagined, in detail. Rodney had concluded months ago that sex was the one intimacy John was comfortable with. Rodney was okay with that, because John was the most uninhibited lover he'd ever had.

Atavistic Pie by [livejournal.com profile] cofax7
You know, I really don't understand exactly what's going on here—how much is canon, how much is real or imagined—but it certainly sucked me in.

Letting It Go by dirty diana
John/Ford and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
John could have ignored it. Anyone else would have ignored it. But John liked Ford, and anyway, they were going to be here a long time.

Detox by Jane St Clair
Rodney and Zelenka come down.

Maybe He Didn't by kyrieane
All my buttons pushed at once! John changes the rules on Rodney and it's about breaking habits and breaking down defenses.
Rodney thought open and the door slid obediently. John didn’t follow him in, just stood there waiting for something. It took Rodney too many seconds to figure it out, and then he waved John in.

The Ways by Layton Colt
They fall back on his bed, and its surreal enough he could almost believe he was dreaming, except that John feels real enough. "I'm sorry," he says again, because he is, he's sorry about all of it and he's sorry because he doesn't think there's any going back from this—can't imagine how things will ever be the same.

Face Value (Part 1) and Part 2 by minnow
Long enough to wallow in and it's so, so good. Rodney can read minds! And it's so not the story you think it is.
Summary: "Yes, I think one telepath per Atlantis is enough," Elizabeth said. One too many, she murmured internally.

Advantage by Resonant
John turns out to be a very bossy slave. I squeeze this story and never let go.

Equate by Rivier
Ah, John and Rodney, feeling their way around and to and through each other.
They're doing something, Rodney and the Colonel. He doesn't know exactly what it is or what the right name for it might be.

Stepwise by Tigerlady
And thank god, Rodney got it, too. A warm, sweaty palm met his own. They were both shaking, gripping each other desperately, but John was pretty sure that was okay for two friends who had just survived certain death.


East of Eden by dirty diana
A crossover with Stargate: Atlantis. A New World Order.

Hysteria by dirty diana
Daniel reached out, his hand restlessly turning pages. There was something relieving about the feel of paper, thick and with ink smudged in the corners, where he had written too fast. There was something relieving about leaving.

Out of Season by Anna S
After another moment, Jack reluctantly removed his hand from where it rested. He was feeling hungry, and not for doughnuts, and he was also feeling like a real shit-heeled bastard for what the next few weeks would do to his team. To Daniel. When he'd outlined his plan to Hammond, he'd secretly felt its biggest problem was that Daniel would never fall for it, would never buy that Jack was at heart a jingoistic thief with no stake left in the system.

Fools Can Dream by Icarus
Jack and Daniel get married. In a non-cloying way.
Yep. Terrified. Which was S.O.P.

Double Bed by [livejournal.com profile] paian
Achy in the best possibly way. Bleak until it isn't anymore.
Jack detached himself a little, moved up level with Daniel's face. Daniel turned onto his back. The thumb at the end of the arm that stayed under Jack rubbed lightly, absently. He didn't pull away, except he did. Jack laid a hand on his chest. Too sticky to rub. He squeezed a little. Daniel's eyes closed, part pleasure and part pain. He wanted this, he wanted contact, affection; except he didn't.

Syllepsis by [livejournal.com profile] paian
Sara O'Neill drops by, unexpected.
"I'm afraid Jack's out," he said. "He's picking up snacks for the games this afternoon." It was Sunday, football season, and he wasn't exactly lying; Jack would pick up munchies and burgers and dogs, but really he was just doing the weekly shopping, because it was his turn and because Daniel had this translation to work on. "Can I get you a drink or something?" He considered and discarded the temptation to say It's not really my place to play host, but . . . His mind was working fast, the way it did during an unexpected negotiation or first contact. He'd gone into work mode, he realized -- offworld mode, or NID mode, or something. Balling up tight, deep inside, what he finally registered as a low, quiet panic.

Home From Here by Merry
Merry wins at last lines. If a fic could grin, this one does.

A Bird in the Hand Gets Tangled in the Sheets by The Grrrl
He slides under the covers carefully, because Jack is already asleep, and has been for hours. It's late. Or early, Daniel thinks as he squints at the clock. Very early. He didn't mean to stay up so long, but the damn bird thing . . . maybe the bird ate the man?


The History of the World by Wintertime. (House)
This was a re-read this past week, but it's so pitch-perfect and finely balanced.

Asymptotic Behavior by [livejournal.com profile] rageprufrock. (Numb3rs)
Gen. Driving lessons: Charlie is the immovable object and Don is the irresistible force.
Charlie's mouth opens and math spews out, which Don has learned over the course of going on seventeen years to ignore. When Charlie finishes in a feverish babble--something about "impact ratios and twisted metal"--Don smiles patiently at him and says, "Charlie, press down on the God damn gas."

Change Is the Only Constant by [livejournal.com profile] marag (House/DC Universe)
For something completely different.
Summary: When Bruce Wayne becomes Dr. Gregory House's latest patient, House's hidden past might just be disclosed.

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (it's all in the stones that you throw)
The cat and dog fight like—well, you know. Turns out it's not just a figure of speech.

Together [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu and I blew off yoga on Tuesday and instead went shopping at Old Navy, where we each bought several items at wildly discounted prices. I watched House after dinner. reactions to Cursed )

I read Dira Sudis's Last Rites a while ago, but I just went back to it for a re-read now that things make more sense. You couldn't ask for a better follow-up to this episode.

And then I finished Fermat's Enigma: The Epic Quest to Solve the World's Greatest Mathematical Problem. It's just what it says, the history of Fermat's Last Theorem and why (and how) it took 350 years to solve. They yadda-yadda-yaddad over most of the actual math, especially toward the end (which I can't help feeling a little put-out about, no matter that I wouldn't even begin to understand it), but it's a good story. In some ways it's a horrifying story: the lives of so many mathematicians seem tenuous at best and the tragedy of time is everywhere in abundant evidence. They often died young, or lived in turbulent times, or lived at the wrong time. Wiles himself finally expressed, explicitly, the danger of a linear, unidirectional timeline:

Having tried every tool and technique in the published literature, [Wiles] had found that they were all inadequate. "I really believed that I was on the right track, but that did not mean that I would necessarily reach my goal. It could be that the methods needed to solve this particular problem may simply be beyond present-day mathematics. Perhaps the methods I needed to complete the proof would not be invented for a hundred years. So even if I was on the right track, I could be living in the wrong century." (237)

Isn't that terrifying? The odds of achieving self-actualization are infinitesimal in this world. Galois was a "respectable but not outstanding" student until he encountered mathematics at the age of sixteen; he was twice refused admittance to the École Polytechnique because of the "abruptness and lack of explanation in the oral examination"; he was caught up in the tumultuous politics of 1820s and '30s France and died in a duel at the age of twenty. Leonhard Euler's father was determined that his son should pursue a career in the Church—and he did, until their friends the Bernoullis intervened and persuaded the father that his son "had been born to calculate, not to preach."

What's so haunting isn't that Euler almost became a clergyman to fulfill his father's wishes instead of a mathematician who would later be referred to as "analysis incarnate" and of whom "the French academician François Arago said, 'Euler calculated without apparent effort as men breathe, or as eagles sustain themselves in the wind'"—but that for every touch-and-go story like his that ends happily, there must be countless other stories that end with the hapless protagonist going into his father's business without a word of complaint; or dying in infancy; or being too poor for school or books; or being born into a nomadic tribe, or before the advent of Pythagoras and the entire field of mathematics. The tragedy of time is that in the fifteenth century Leonardo da Vinci was able to design a helicopter that would have flown—what could he have done today? That kind of thing can keep me up at night.

More snippets from the book. )

That was all Tuesday; today was Wednesday, but I didn't do much with it. My mother and I ran errands, we made our own version of these shrimp pouches for dinner, and we started the seventh season of M*A*S*H*: BJ's moustache is truly hideous, but his initials stand for anything you want!

And if you're still here, leave a one-word comment that you think best describes me. It can only be one word. No more. Then copy & paste this in your journal so that I may leave a word about you.

walkingshadow: anne taintor. it's not easy being easy. (a room where the light won't find you)
I sit at the computer but never write. What's the last thing I can remember posting?

It rained all day Monday. In the morning my mother mentioned a flood warning was going to be in effect until 8 p.m. at least, and it poured all day. I got up early for the dermatologist, who took less than five minutes to examine me head-to-toe and said both "you don't get much sun, do you?" and "you really shouldn't be living in Florida." WELL, IT WASN'T MY IDEA. I keep breaking out around my chin, something I'd never done before the start of the last school year; he gave me a prescription for that.

My mother and I brought Thai food over to my grandmother's apartment for lunch: it wasn't exactly a bad day for her, but a very quiet one. We left to run errands but stood downstairs for a long time, waiting for the rain to clear enough for our walk across the parking lot. We got batteries at Target and toiletries, and spent a lot of time in the travel-size aisle: dozens of tiny tubes of brand-name toothpaste and body lotion and contact-lens solution, all for a dollar or less. Keep a bag packed and be ready to flee at a moment's notice. We looked for nail polish at Bath and Body Works; we looked at CVS; we looked in Publix. We parked as high as we could and dashed between the car and covered sidewalks, the car and home, stepping quickly and carefully to avoid the deepest of the puddles. My mother made chicken salad for dinner and [livejournal.com profile] gjstruthseeker called to tell me to expect her tomorrow.

I slept in Tuesday and managed to do laundry and tidy up my room a bit before meeting [livejournal.com profile] malelia_honu for yoga. Our instructor admonished us for missing class last Thursday—it's nice to know we were missed. Afterward I called my mom to tell her I wouldn't be home for dinner and we headed over to the Galleria for sales at Victoria's Secret (where I never end up getting anything) and Banana Republic. I found a skirt that fit me for too much money and a skirt that didn't fit me for the right price, and in the end came away with only two plain t-shirts, white and black. We ducked into the Gap fifteen minutes before closing and ran smack into one of our friends from high school and her seven-month-old baby boy. She's married and the baby is adorable. She seemed happy, and I wouldn't have said she was happy when I knew her, though we hadn't been close at all: sullen, maybe. She seems happy now, confident and relaxed and happy

Jules came from dinner with her father to spend the night and we talked about the things around here and the things in Gainesville and the mysteries of the Harry Potter universe before we put ourselves to bed. In the morning I got up early again and headed out without breakfast to my doctor's appointment. They seemed glad to see me, the staff that had been there when I'd been there last summer, and I realize I need better stories. I have no boyfriends or girlfriends, no interesting plans, no anecdotes to share when people ask me to tell them what's going on, what's new. They did an EKG to check out my irregular heartbeat and the doctor gave me a clean bill of health and a note saying I could donate blood whenever I pleased, so perhaps now my dad will get off my back.

Mal met us for lunch at Einstein's at 12:30 or so, whenever I got back and we headed out again. Today was another perfectly rainy day, if more gray than wet. The humidity is fierce but the storms keep the heat down nicely. We sat outside at Einstein's rather than inside in the air conditioning and I dropped food on my skirt three or four times until Mal reached over and stuck a napkin on my lap. You can't take me anywhere. We browsed Bath and Body Works further down the strip (I am not swayed by packaging, but I'm certainly attracted by it: so much of their products are so well-wrapped, and I am drawn to the heft of the pots, the fonts of the text, the colors of the bottles, and the texture of the creams) and Payless right next door. I remembered my haircut appointment at two and Mal and Jules sat reading magazines while I got a badly-needed trim. I think it had been four months. It looks quite fetching now, though it won't fall half as nicely tomorrow.

Back at my place Jules sat us down and showed us the South Park movie, which both amused and horrified me. I laughed and my eyes bulged, sometimes simultaneously. (Someone brilliant made a Smallville vid, Lex-centric, to Saddam's "I Can Change," and it is, as you might have guessed, awesome.) We played some ball in the house; Mal left to rescue her mother from over-working outside and Jules stayed while we all ordered Chinese food. We watched, of all things, Super-Nanny (a much better show than I would have thought! the children are just as bad as I'd imagined, as were the parents, but she really does everything right) and then Jules went off to make her mother happy by sleeping at home tonight. We've made tentative plans for Friday, and Mal and I are doing yoga tomorrow and possibly seeing Cabaret on Saturday; I remembered too late that cousin M. is having my family and some other company over for dinner on Friday, but I can see if Jules would like to come along, and then we can do things both before and after. Too many thing and all at once.

Things I've read tonight:
1. the last 140 entries on my friends page
2. Part 26 (the latest and perhaps the best installment to date) of [livejournal.com profile] peter_and_fran
3. the latest SG:A and House recs at [livejournal.com profile] ship_recs (and elsewhere), including an untitled John study, a John/Atlantis ficlet, and Trojan Horse (SG:A); and No Exchange of Payment, Leave This Harbor for the Sea, and Dysgeusia (House)
4. [livejournal.com profile] isilya's giftedness ramble to which I am trying to formulate a coherent response
5. a column [livejournal.com profile] marythefan transcribed about Simon, his character, his sexuality, and what it all has to do with Jayne (Firefly)

Things I've saved to read later:
1. Ride (My Chemical Romance), the latest long story from [livejournal.com profile] synchronik
2. The Generic Slash Defense Form Letter (linked by [livejournal.com profile] cesperanza)
3. a metadiscussion of gender, sexuality, and fandom (linked by [livejournal.com profile] viggorlijah2).

I'd read them all but I'm too tired now to even want to. My mother gave me back The Tipping Point; maybe one of these days I'll read a book again.

March 2011

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