(no subject)
Dude, today for the lose. 4 hours of sleep for the second night in a row. Nasty sleet/rain/hail that turned the streets of Chicago/Evanston into the Land of Misery and Inarticulate Cursing. 10 AM screening of a film about a man driving a woman slowly insane. There was a bright spot of hilarity when I arrived at work at the media library (angry and wet) and opened up my email to find it full to the brim with crazy women talking about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Slash. :P
Now I have flannel in the form of PJs and sheets and corn muffins and curried yellow split peas a la me. So, better.
ANYWAY, I stumped everyone with my silly Femme!Trivia Poll from the other day. This is obviously because I am Very Mysterious. Um, actually I think it's because I'm sneaky and many of the options were also *almost* right. Only two people got half of them correct and they were greenapricot who has known me in RL for 8 years and mona1347 who claims to have filled out the poll as if it was about her.
The first fanfic I ever read was:
Faith/Buffy! It went like this: We read Henry Jenkins in one of my classes in undergrad and I was all, "Oooooh." At the time I was totally consumed with catching up on the first couple seasons of Buffy that'd I'd missed and I thought to myself, "I wonder if they make the girls..." AND THEY DID! \o/ Don't ask me what any of it was called or who it was by though--I don't remember.
I've certainly read ass-tons of Max/Liz and Spike/Buffy fanfic. Shut up.
The first fanfic I ever posted was Zan/Liz though, and it was pretty fracking long and also involved me trying to convince Roswell fandom that Isabel Evans was a closeted lipstick lesbian.
My Favorite flavor of ice cream is:
Rum Raisin. It has to do with my grandmother who also infected me other such "old person" tastes as caviar, weird cheese, and whiskey.
I put Cherry Garcia in there to set off your Vermont radar (though I do like it) and for the record I prefer vanilla ice cream to chocolate.
The song that people who really love me put on the juke box in bars is:
"Jolene." I just *love* that song. And I love dive bars and I love hearing it in dive bars. I've had people call me from the other side of the country and hold up their cell phones into bar noise so I could hear it and know they were thinking of me.
Can I say that I'd very much like to go to the bar that has both Ani Difranco and Bikini Kill on the juke box? (I suspect it exists in San Francisco or Provincetown.) Also, it occurs to me that perhaps y'all who picked "You Shook Me All Night Long" were maybe interpreting this in a dirty way--so I'm uh, flattered that you'd think that people who "really love me" think I'm a good lay. :P That song is what I clean to. When I was twenty I used to work in the kitchen at this natural foods place and since I was the youngest cook by 17 years I tended to have to close the kitchen, which was fine with me because that way I got to spend half my shift with other people and the other half with total control over the stereo as I made vats of gazpacho and roasted tofu and shit like that. But once a week I had to spray off all the damn mats and I fucking HATED IT. The only thing that could alleviate this irritation was "Back in Black."
"My Drink" is:
Yeah, yeah, it's all of them. Bud in a bottle because I have bad taste in beer and I don't care--besides Budweiser is really its own beverage. Red Wine is for in-house drinking. Goes particularly well with pasta, red meat or fangirling. If you went for Old Fashioned, perhaps you're being a very diligent stalker and remembered that that's what my semi-Sue ordered in Liquid Eyeliner and Wood Heat. I usually get them with Bushmills (or Jameson if they don't have it) instead of bourbon though, the same with Manhattans, so my old boss started calling them "Irish Manhattans." This was my boss at this little scholarly bookstore I worked at in Santa Cruz. We all drank Bushmills there--it was our signature. And the people at the bar around the corner from us knew it. Speaking of that place, I miss it, even if it was always full of annoying yuppies and meat market people from San Jose on the weekends. Everything in the place is red, including the candles that you use for ash trays because Santa Cruz does not give a fuck about the fact that it's illegal to smoke indoors in California. The Red Room is also responsible for the only "girly drink" that I like--"Purple Hooters," which I know involve vodka, Chambord and pineapple juice but I've never had one quite the same as they have there anywhere else. They put dilly beans in their Bloody Marys. Oh California. And now everyone is bored except for hansbekhart who is probably thinking, "You fucking hipster for hanging out at the Red." For the record, dearie, "my bar" was really "The Rush Inn" and the only other place I ever really went was the Poet and the Patriot because people I knew were always working there, oh and of course Wednesday night to "drink and drown" at the Avenue because 3 dollar pitchers are the great equalizer. And then after that Ladies Night at the Dakota to uh, dance and make out with girls, but I never got drinks there except when butch girls would buy them for me because they're too fucking weak there, wtf. And NO, I am not some kind of drunk--Santa Cruz is just a very wet town.
The first TV show I was *obsessed* with was:
Northern Exposure. Still love it. We didn't really "do TV" when I was a kid, what with the whole parents being hippies thing. We didn't even have one until I was 8 or 9 and then after that we were only allowed to watch an hour a day. I certainly did watch public TV (woo! Levar) and when my mom was in grad school I'd sneak General Hospital even though I had to bribe my little brother with cookies not to tell my mom (she thought it was too racy). And yep, I was into TNG and it was around the same time as NE, but NE was the one that I really daydreamed about. One of my mom's friends came to visit from Berkeley and she brought all these tapes with her and I binged. The same woman bought me a Tivo when I graduated from college. ♥ This love holds fast--when greenapricot was visiting a couple weeks ago we watched all of S6 and I still think it's both crackpot and life-affirming. Oh yeah, and of course I watched My So-Called Life--I was an angsty teenage girl in the Nineties! I stayed up all night once watching tapes that my friend's boyfriend had. I did not, however, ever watch BH 90210. But I thought you might think I would.
If my parents hadn't named me "Lucia" I might have been a:
Gaia. OMG, thank god that did not happen.
Maria is actually what my mother said she might have gone with if she'd had a second daughter. Those other names are hippie names that I thought would trick you.
Thus ends this superfluous information session.
In other news, my internal dudes-with-guitars setting seems to have shifted from Jeffrey Foucault to Ryan Adams.
Now I have flannel in the form of PJs and sheets and corn muffins and curried yellow split peas a la me. So, better.
ANYWAY, I stumped everyone with my silly Femme!Trivia Poll from the other day. This is obviously because I am Very Mysterious. Um, actually I think it's because I'm sneaky and many of the options were also *almost* right. Only two people got half of them correct and they were greenapricot who has known me in RL for 8 years and mona1347 who claims to have filled out the poll as if it was about her.
The first fanfic I ever read was:
Faith/Buffy! It went like this: We read Henry Jenkins in one of my classes in undergrad and I was all, "Oooooh." At the time I was totally consumed with catching up on the first couple seasons of Buffy that'd I'd missed and I thought to myself, "I wonder if they make the girls..." AND THEY DID! \o/ Don't ask me what any of it was called or who it was by though--I don't remember.
I've certainly read ass-tons of Max/Liz and Spike/Buffy fanfic. Shut up.
The first fanfic I ever posted was Zan/Liz though, and it was pretty fracking long and also involved me trying to convince Roswell fandom that Isabel Evans was a closeted lipstick lesbian.
My Favorite flavor of ice cream is:
Rum Raisin. It has to do with my grandmother who also infected me other such "old person" tastes as caviar, weird cheese, and whiskey.
I put Cherry Garcia in there to set off your Vermont radar (though I do like it) and for the record I prefer vanilla ice cream to chocolate.
The song that people who really love me put on the juke box in bars is:
"Jolene." I just *love* that song. And I love dive bars and I love hearing it in dive bars. I've had people call me from the other side of the country and hold up their cell phones into bar noise so I could hear it and know they were thinking of me.
Can I say that I'd very much like to go to the bar that has both Ani Difranco and Bikini Kill on the juke box? (I suspect it exists in San Francisco or Provincetown.) Also, it occurs to me that perhaps y'all who picked "You Shook Me All Night Long" were maybe interpreting this in a dirty way--so I'm uh, flattered that you'd think that people who "really love me" think I'm a good lay. :P That song is what I clean to. When I was twenty I used to work in the kitchen at this natural foods place and since I was the youngest cook by 17 years I tended to have to close the kitchen, which was fine with me because that way I got to spend half my shift with other people and the other half with total control over the stereo as I made vats of gazpacho and roasted tofu and shit like that. But once a week I had to spray off all the damn mats and I fucking HATED IT. The only thing that could alleviate this irritation was "Back in Black."
"My Drink" is:
Yeah, yeah, it's all of them. Bud in a bottle because I have bad taste in beer and I don't care--besides Budweiser is really its own beverage. Red Wine is for in-house drinking. Goes particularly well with pasta, red meat or fangirling. If you went for Old Fashioned, perhaps you're being a very diligent stalker and remembered that that's what my semi-Sue ordered in Liquid Eyeliner and Wood Heat. I usually get them with Bushmills (or Jameson if they don't have it) instead of bourbon though, the same with Manhattans, so my old boss started calling them "Irish Manhattans." This was my boss at this little scholarly bookstore I worked at in Santa Cruz. We all drank Bushmills there--it was our signature. And the people at the bar around the corner from us knew it. Speaking of that place, I miss it, even if it was always full of annoying yuppies and meat market people from San Jose on the weekends. Everything in the place is red, including the candles that you use for ash trays because Santa Cruz does not give a fuck about the fact that it's illegal to smoke indoors in California. The Red Room is also responsible for the only "girly drink" that I like--"Purple Hooters," which I know involve vodka, Chambord and pineapple juice but I've never had one quite the same as they have there anywhere else. They put dilly beans in their Bloody Marys. Oh California. And now everyone is bored except for hansbekhart who is probably thinking, "You fucking hipster for hanging out at the Red." For the record, dearie, "my bar" was really "The Rush Inn" and the only other place I ever really went was the Poet and the Patriot because people I knew were always working there, oh and of course Wednesday night to "drink and drown" at the Avenue because 3 dollar pitchers are the great equalizer. And then after that Ladies Night at the Dakota to uh, dance and make out with girls, but I never got drinks there except when butch girls would buy them for me because they're too fucking weak there, wtf. And NO, I am not some kind of drunk--Santa Cruz is just a very wet town.
The first TV show I was *obsessed* with was:
Northern Exposure. Still love it. We didn't really "do TV" when I was a kid, what with the whole parents being hippies thing. We didn't even have one until I was 8 or 9 and then after that we were only allowed to watch an hour a day. I certainly did watch public TV (woo! Levar) and when my mom was in grad school I'd sneak General Hospital even though I had to bribe my little brother with cookies not to tell my mom (she thought it was too racy). And yep, I was into TNG and it was around the same time as NE, but NE was the one that I really daydreamed about. One of my mom's friends came to visit from Berkeley and she brought all these tapes with her and I binged. The same woman bought me a Tivo when I graduated from college. ♥ This love holds fast--when greenapricot was visiting a couple weeks ago we watched all of S6 and I still think it's both crackpot and life-affirming. Oh yeah, and of course I watched My So-Called Life--I was an angsty teenage girl in the Nineties! I stayed up all night once watching tapes that my friend's boyfriend had. I did not, however, ever watch BH 90210. But I thought you might think I would.
If my parents hadn't named me "Lucia" I might have been a:
Gaia. OMG, thank god that did not happen.
Maria is actually what my mother said she might have gone with if she'd had a second daughter. Those other names are hippie names that I thought would trick you.
Thus ends this superfluous information session.
In other news, my internal dudes-with-guitars setting seems to have shifted from Jeffrey Foucault to Ryan Adams.