In the last 24 hours
1. Turned down by job prospect. This icon's for you, Paper-Ya.
2. Food poisoning.
3. Enchanted was dumb. Yes, very cute and intertextual, but I am (probably because of 1 and 2) not satisfied with the payoff. You bring an adorably dependant princess in contrast with Rosa Parks and Marie Curie, the princess better find the inner heroine when she's up to bat.
4. My unconscious must be banging a gong. Dreamed of ballet shoes that didn't fit, losing way in elementary school, and BEING PREGNANT. *huff* oo0oo
5. ID4 fic stalled. Shit. I can't get Hiller's voice.
With its front gates thrown wide open, Area 51 was an anthill of soldiers, scientists, civilians, and Winnebagos. The motorpool was filled with laughing, clapping, hooting crowds that followed Hiller, David, Whitmore, Grey and all their hangers-on, from the car deck to the locker room.
Four soldiers, two lab techs, one reporter and one father followed them in.
“Captain Hiller, when you’ve got time, there’s a debriefing.”
“Mr. Levinson, there’s someone from CERN to speak to you.”
“Captain, about that post-it…”
“David, where on earth did you get that bruise?”
David lay down on a bench and took off his glasses.
Hiller, already stripped to his tanktop, groaned.
“Ok, I got it. Out out out all of you, let them change, will you?” Julius flapped his hands at the soldiers till they left and then shut the locker room door. “You boys are never going to get five minute’s peace again.”
“Mr. Levinson-“
“Please, for the hero, Julius. It’s Julius.”
“Dad, what he’s saying is, could you get lost for just a second?”
“What? Yeah yeah yeah sure. You shower, I’ll find you a bed.” He squeezed through the crush of people at the door, barking in Yiddish to let him the hell through.
Hiller locked the door and leaned on it. David, still on his back on the bench with his eyes closed, pawed at his flight suit. “God, so many buckles. Why buckles?”
“Better to strangle scientists with.”
“Thought so.” David gave up with a frown, and planned to go to sleep right there.
Hiller sighed and pushed away from the door. “You eggheads.” He leaned over David, now breathing deeply, and gently popped one, two, three, four, five buckles. He allowed an indulgent smile at David’s small pout and then whapped him on the head.
“Hey!” David sat up like he was on springs.
“Come on, Levinson. Undress your egghead ass and get in the shower before you kill me with B.O.”
“Oh like you can talk, Captain Minty Fresh.”
6. or 1.5 Trying to convince myself I shouldn't consider applying to clean hotel rooms a viable next step. Especially since my grandma did it for 40 years so my dad and I could go to school.
7. I miss Victoria.
2. Food poisoning.
3. Enchanted was dumb. Yes, very cute and intertextual, but I am (probably because of 1 and 2) not satisfied with the payoff. You bring an adorably dependant princess in contrast with Rosa Parks and Marie Curie, the princess better find the inner heroine when she's up to bat.
4. My unconscious must be banging a gong. Dreamed of ballet shoes that didn't fit, losing way in elementary school, and BEING PREGNANT. *huff* oo0oo
5. ID4 fic stalled. Shit. I can't get Hiller's voice.
With its front gates thrown wide open, Area 51 was an anthill of soldiers, scientists, civilians, and Winnebagos. The motorpool was filled with laughing, clapping, hooting crowds that followed Hiller, David, Whitmore, Grey and all their hangers-on, from the car deck to the locker room.
Four soldiers, two lab techs, one reporter and one father followed them in.
“Captain Hiller, when you’ve got time, there’s a debriefing.”
“Mr. Levinson, there’s someone from CERN to speak to you.”
“Captain, about that post-it…”
“David, where on earth did you get that bruise?”
David lay down on a bench and took off his glasses.
Hiller, already stripped to his tanktop, groaned.
“Ok, I got it. Out out out all of you, let them change, will you?” Julius flapped his hands at the soldiers till they left and then shut the locker room door. “You boys are never going to get five minute’s peace again.”
“Mr. Levinson-“
“Please, for the hero, Julius. It’s Julius.”
“Dad, what he’s saying is, could you get lost for just a second?”
“What? Yeah yeah yeah sure. You shower, I’ll find you a bed.” He squeezed through the crush of people at the door, barking in Yiddish to let him the hell through.
Hiller locked the door and leaned on it. David, still on his back on the bench with his eyes closed, pawed at his flight suit. “God, so many buckles. Why buckles?”
“Better to strangle scientists with.”
“Thought so.” David gave up with a frown, and planned to go to sleep right there.
Hiller sighed and pushed away from the door. “You eggheads.” He leaned over David, now breathing deeply, and gently popped one, two, three, four, five buckles. He allowed an indulgent smile at David’s small pout and then whapped him on the head.
“Hey!” David sat up like he was on springs.
“Come on, Levinson. Undress your egghead ass and get in the shower before you kill me with B.O.”
“Oh like you can talk, Captain Minty Fresh.”
6. or 1.5 Trying to convince myself I shouldn't consider applying to clean hotel rooms a viable next step. Especially since my grandma did it for 40 years so my dad and I could go to school.
7. I miss Victoria.