In the absence of milk, I have just invented cream soda and raisin bran.
...SOMEBODY STOP ME.
ETA: have stopped myself. hello, garbage disposal! goodbye, any claim to dignity.
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Alas! It looks as if I will not be going to Vividcon after all; three conventions is a bit much on my family's budget, especially all in a row. (Comicon, then my parents are going to Worldcon, plus my dad's doing a book tour...) Still, there's next year, when one can hope we'll be rolling in money due to the vast success of the book. Rolling, I tell you.
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DAD: So, what's up today?
ME: Not much.
DAD: You always say that.
ME: Mm...no, really, not much.
DAD: That always means there was stuff and you just don't want to tell me about it.
ME: Weeelllll...I don't think you want to hear about it...
DAD: Oh, try me. What was there?
ME: ...Doctor Who porn?
DAD: *pause* Right. Not much.
ME: It's not like I told you which characters were involved. You haven't even met them! ...technically.
I love having a family aware of my inclinations.
(And it's true, he hasn't--having not seen much of the old series, he's no idea what Five even looks like, and I only just got him to watch Utopia tonight. Long story. I'm looking forward to his reaction to The Phone Call.)
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Just a little reminder about the character blog I'm doing for my dad's book-marketing-campaign--we're starting to get into Plot, which is always fun, and I've promised myself to update almost every day, so there should be new stuff on a regular basis. The WordPress blog linked to in one of the entries could always use some interaction, too. Actually, does anyone know if there's a way to track traffic on LiveJournal? There is on WordPress, but LJ would be useful too.
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Okay, so you remember that thing I mentioned briefly in the meme about my RL life? The "officially-sanctioned fanfiction" thing?
My dad's a science fiction writer. He's got a book coming out in August. It's a really great book, actually--I've already read it. And, well, he's had some bad experiences with publishers over the years (mostly having to do with them not really knowing how to promote his books), so he took promotion into his own hands. Well, our own hands. My family (and my dad's website guru) are doing, because we are just that crazy, our own viral marketing campaign for the book over the internet. I won't say too much about the book, because the point of this is to figure that out on your own, but I figured you might be interested in what I'm doing for the campaign: a blog. I'm writing as if I were a character in the book (she's not actually in the book, but she's going through a lot of the same things as the main characters), and I'm having hella fun so far. So I can only urge you to check it out, and find your way around the rest of what we've got so far--we're adding new stuff whenever we can, so it's not like it's stagnant, and getting people to participate (oh yes, it's interactive) is definitely going to help. There's only a few entries in the blog so far--and you might want to scroll down to start from the beginning--but I hope it's enough to peak your interest.
(See? I am writing something I can show you guys. It's just...not based on an existing fandom. But that's totally okay, right?)
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Has anyone else noticed that the amount of time one has to do things is inversely proportional to the amount of things one actually gets done?
It's summer, and I have somewhere in the vicinity of thirteen hours every day in which I can do whatever I want; this leads to, obviously, not wanting to do anything. I don't want to write, I only sort of want to vid (and I get frustrated by knowing that I won't actually be able to finish it until a week and a half from now, when the season finale of Doctor Who gives me the clips I'm really, really hoping it's going to have), I don't want to draw, I don't even really want to watch old episodes of Doctor Who--and it occurs to me, hey, I wanted to do these things a lot more when I didn't have so much time to do them in. It was so much more satisfying to spend an hour and a half writing when I knew I only had three hours to do it in. Which makes me realize that 1) I really, really want it to be September already and 2) I really, really need a job, but I can't get a job until September because I'm only going to be living here until September, and I'm rather doubting employers, even part-time employers, will want to hire someone who is for sure gone in two months. Auuuuugh.
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Hey, I met Peter S. Beagle! And, as it turns out, he's known my parents--particularly my mother's side of the family--for years!
God, it's good to be a member of the SF aristocracy. *preens*
Actually, he signed my book to my mother at first. He was mortally embarrassed when she pointed it out. I think that just makes it more special, don't you?
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So I guess there is this meme? And, hey, why not.
You know how sometimes people on your friend's list post about stuff going on in their life, and all of a sudden you think "Wait a minute? Since when are they working THERE? Since when are they dating HIM/HER? since when???" And then you wonder how you could have missed all that seemingly pretty standard information, but somehow you feel too ashamed to ask for clarification because it seems like info you *should* already know? It happens to all of us sometimes.
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OH AND.The best thing about my graduation ceremony? The valedictorian, in his speech, used the Mac/PC commercials as a metaphor for post-high school life.
You see, Macs are stylish and pretty, but they live in little virus-free bubbles and they only come in slightly transparent white, whereas PCs have to learn to adapt to the problems thrown at them and come in ten bazillion different designs--
--but mostly I was too busy trying not to crack up to pay attention to what he was actually saying.
God, I love my high school. And they call us ghetto.
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...I just graduated from high school.
...does this mean I have to do real person stuff now?
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What do I do when I finally get to Five? I make a left turn back to Two. Naturally. Unfortunately, the second disc of The Invasion hasn't been Netflixed yet--and let me tell you, it is awesome, it has those two animated parts where the Doctor looks evil because of his crazy eyebrows and then there's the Brig and Zoe totally gets an adorable photographer girlfriend and even the animators, lacking photographic reference, know that clearly the Doctor and Jamie would be clinging to each other at any available opportunity, so, basically, it is awesome--so I timidly wander out into that particular small, happy area of DW fandom, and there are a lot of great and silly picspams and very ardent declarations of love and oh hey there's a recs list and oh god I ship a pairing I am physically incapable of reading. I get to that point and my brain screeches into reverse. It's even worse than Three/Delgado!Master--which I thoroughly, thoroughly approve of but am made vaguely uneasy by the prospect of reading--because that, I actually can read, but Two/Jamie? No no no. Unfortunate ageist tendencies + disconcerting sense of semi-pedophilia = I find it totally, totally adorable and am a firm believer in season 6b and would gladly espouse its adorable glory to anyone who cared to listen, but I cannot read it.
In largely unrelated news, in two days I will officially have graduated high school. Er. That's...very, very strange. (I've been repeating that phrase a lot lately. It's pretty much the only way I can think of to describe it.)
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So--because it's the last school week for seniors (oh god oh god oh god), in history class, we've pretty much just been eating ridiculous amounts of food and doing random stuff. (One girl brought fried rice. Home-made fried rice, y'all. And another brought home-made cake, and the teacher got us a whole ton of donuts, and there's all these chips, and I got brownies, and one girl brought like three different kinds of Oreos and it has been a good past couple days.) Yesterday, it was leaked out that I've never seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off; today, we started to watch it. And...
1) Gosh darnit, Matthew Broderick was cute. I have all these hang-ups about the guy (don't ask), so why is he cute.
2) Regarding Ferris and Cameron: ...I'm a horrible person.
is there nothing that I can look at any more? Nothing?
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ME, IN THE SCHOOL LIBRARY: *gets phone call on her cell, though is not bothered, as library not very crowded*
CELL PHONE RING: *is the Doctor Who theme*
NEARBY TEACHER: Is that the Doctor Who theme?
ME: *grins like an idiot, nods, takes call*
CALL: *ends*
NEARBY TEACHER: So....1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, or 10?
ME: All of them.*
And thus I got to have my first-ever Real Life Conversation about Old Who. I feel so proud.
He really likes Two, Three, and Ainley!Master. I'll have to take his word on the last one, but hey, I can hardly disagree with the first two.
*I know I haven't actually seen all of them. It's preemptive. Besides, it's really the only answer.
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| 2008-05-18 14:28 |
| i could research north korea...or i could watch 'the pirate planet'. decisions, decisions. |
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| my life and welcome to it |
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DAD: Where's the cat going?
ME: Probably to go drink out of the toilet.
DAD: She does that?
MOM: Well, we always find her in there.
DAD: Maybe she's just finally gotten herself toilet-trained.
*significant pause*
MOM: Then who's using the cat box?
Ladies and gentlemen, my parents. *bows*
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HEY HEY HEY HEY in case you haven't heard, California has proven itself once again to be pretty damn awesome in a variety of regards: GAY MARRIAGE IS BACK, BITCHES.
*dances, a little weakly, because she is tired*
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| 2008-05-11 11:50 |
| the haircut is actually rather recent--i will never grow tired of making it shorter |
| Public |
| apparently i really like the master, doctor who, girl genius, heroes, hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, i like art, i like comics, i like toys, my life and welcome to it, omg other characters, sandman |
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Hey so remember when I said I wasn't going to take a picture of my Master and Doctor action figures in an interesting position? Here's the picture I didn't take, plus a few others, including me omg. You can see my face! And my hair! I rather like my hair. I'm very proud of it.
Right. Homework. Notes on the foreign policy of North Korea. Can I just put "N/A" and get away with it? Probably not.
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RAMBLE TIME.
I keep having these moments where, say, I'll be making lunch, and it will suddenly occur to me: in five months, I'll be doing this with food I paid for myself, or I read a fic that mentions a routine of a morning run, and I think: in five months, I'll have access to a fitness center I can use any damn time I want, or I look at an action figure in my room, and I decide: in five months, I'm going to take that with me, because it's cool and I want to have a tangible representation of who I am, and it's getting to the point where this is a near-constant buzz under my skin: Savannah, Savannah, sun and mid-day classes and East Coast TV feeds and auditioning for plays that PAY and more people with dyed hair than you could shake a stick at. Five months. Two months--less than, now--until I graduate, and then (less than) three months until I hop a cross-country plane and move in in a state I've been to once, a state where I don't know anybody (except the endless hordes of other people's relatives who, as they have been telling me, apparently live there, not that I would care, because I don't know them), a state where my mom says she's going to get me my own credit card, a state where I'll have to fill in an absentee ballot in November because my vote belongs here, dammit, a state where it won't be cold when you step outside at night, a state where it will not snow four inches in April, WTF. (It's mostly melting now.)
I can feel the slightest little bits of panic starting to creep in around the edges; none of my RL friends will be there, I won't be able to talk to my journalism teacher about Torchwood and Doctor Who, I won't be--in applied production any more, fuck, I'm actually crying now. My life is going to change. Sure, I'll keep in touch, there's email and I'm going to come back and see at least the spring show next year, drop by some old classes during my (rather long) winter break, but I won't be here. No more Lynnwood High School, no more Little Theatre, no more inexplicable ostrich in the long, fenced-up yard next to the school (there's a llama too, and a goat, and a donkey; nobody knows for sure why), no more sweet Jesus it's hailing again, I swear to God, the weather here is desperately trying to get in as much as possible before I abandon it for muggy heat in Georgia. Thunder, too. I like the sound of thunder, and, it occurs to me, I like being able to watch and listen to extreme weather from the comfort of a house; snow, windstorms, truly epic rain, what-have-you. Savannah gets rain, doesn't it? Sometimes?
Everything's going to change. Well, maybe 75%. I am pretty sure you lot will remain about the same, which is, believe me, a comfort. No matter where I go, the gay sex people will always be there! ...that's Doris Egan's phrase, not mine. No, seriously. She used it once in a Comicon panel I had the luck of going to. Although actually she ascribed it to one of her fellow writers on Smallville. The point is, life is weird, but kind of awesome, and so are you guys. Hugs all around, y'all.
...and I'm going to have to actually get a job there at some point, ye gods...
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I have been incommunicado for the last few days! And yet, I spend most evenings endlessly and desperately refreshing my flist to see what the rest of y'alls are saying. Part of that may be due to a funky school schedule which, for this week only, gives me more time in the evenings and mornings, which leaves me baffled as to what to do with that free time; part of that may be avoiding using my free time to do homework or, uh, write. Getting back into writing is frightening. I keep getting the jitters about opening up Word and scrolling down to the bottom and actually adding words, omg. But it seems to be going well enough. And, like my dad says, it is good to have written. I can look at that wordcount and be proud (if somewhat baffled). So, now that I'm saying stuff again, what shall I talk about? Clearly the answer is WONDERFALLS.
One of the things I am using the free time in the evenings to do is to finally, finally get back to watching Wonderfalls with my family; usually, there's this...whole complicated TV schedule which has lately meant we don't have time to watch Wonderfalls, basically, but this week it means we can, so that's what we've been doing! And thus I have now seen up to, hmm, 'Lying Pig'. On one hand, we are clearly not supposed to like Eric's wife, and I don't, partly because she's annoying and partly because that whole arc is annoying. On the other hand, she's a wife named Heidi and she's played by Jewel Staite. CURSE YOU, FULLER. MY ONLY WEAKNESSES. So, my opinion of that episode and the couple before that: overly-dramatized romantic arcs are boring, even if everyone involved in them is crazy-cute (sometimes literally), but Lee Pace still makes me all wibbly and so maybe I do not mind the thing with Mahandra so much. Leeeeee Paaaaaace. When is Pushing Daisies coming back? Not soon enough. And why are there only three episodes of Wonderfalls left? And is my vague, sneaky prediction as to what might start talking in the final episode going to come true, or did they sadly never get around to that? These are the eternal questions of the universe.
I may have finally given up and added the movie where Lee Pace plays a transgendered nightclub performer to the Netflix list. Goddammit, maybe I won't have the time when it gets here, but I will make time.
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So, Due South, 'The Call of the Wild'. Gay finale...or the gayest finale?
I actually watched it with my dad, because mom's not here and we usually watch stuff after dinner so he was trying to think of what we could watch without her, and I shrugged and said that I was planning on watching Due South on my computer once I'd finished my homework, and he said, okay, let's watch that. I had to explain a few things to him--mostly the Rays issue--but he loved it. This was, incidentally, after a conversation in which I mentioned that Due South was one of the 'classic fandoms' and had huuuge archives of fic. He knows about slash. We had something of an interesting conversation after watching it.
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You know you're a very sad person when, upon having to write a paper on a famous stage director, you pick Elia Kazan, not because you've seen any of his plays or movies, but because he directed both versions of A Streetcar Named Desire, the male lead of which was named Stanley Kowalski, which would go on to become the partial namesake of one of the lead characters in--
...well, guess. Very, very sad.
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