all alone like I began
As you may have heard, Remix/Redux 7: Do you feel lucky? will be happening. And now the layout is installed (thanks, slodwick!), so you can see the rotating header of AWESOME HOT FICTIONAL FOLKS WITH GUNS (AND A STAKE). You can imagine all of them asking, "Do you feel lucky, punk?" and get a little shivery tingle of glee. I know I do. [please do not ask to join the community. at this point, only mods and sockpuppets will be given membership. thanks.]
Sometimes I think my biggest thrill from remix comes from the theme and the layout. Um.
***
People, there has been an EPIDEMIC of UNCUT PHOTOS on my flist. WTF is up with that? Come the fuck on, people! THE CUT-TAG IS YOUR FRIEND. When you fail to use it, I have to adblock everything left and right, and it's just annoying.
***
With a couple of exceptions, every morning for the past two weeks I have woken up precisely at 6:39 am. My alarm doesn't go off until 7:25 am, so needless to say, I am generally displeased by this turn of events, especially since I either can't get back to sleep, or it's sometime after 7:10 am that I finally do fall back to sleep. Neither of those situations is pleasing to me! What the hell is up with this? And why 6:39 am? WHAT IS THE UNIVERSE TRYING TO TELL ME?
***
for the first time since I was laid off in December, I ordered in some Chinese food last night, since I'd been craving it, and it was payday, and I got my period, so I figured I deserved it. Sadly, it was kind of a letdown. It was okay. And I was unable to track down any sort of cherry coke to go with it, which was also a disappointment. My life! So hard!
***
So I was thinking I didn't want to import all 6610 LJ entries to DW, but I maybe did want to bring over my SPN stories, and possibly all the WW title stories, so I c&p'd a few of them yesterday, and now I am not so sure about bringing anything over. It just feels weird. What do you think?
But I did notice that right from the start, I was writing about Sam and Dean and water - "Of Recklessness and Water" was quickly followed by "Alone I Fear the Tide" and "your ocean refuses no river." I mean, I've written nightswimming fic in almost every fandom I've written more than one story in (note to self: write Max/Alec nightswimming fic. Many possibilities for pretty angst and UST are available.), but I've taken the whole water imagery thing to a new level in SPN. Also, possibly you shouldn't read too many of my stories all in a row, as they are kind of all the same story. *cough*
***
Speaking of SPN, this poem makes me want to write a story, but I'm not sure what, yet:
Woman in the I-65 Rest Stop
Emerging from a stall, she clicks
across the tiles in backless heels
not meant for driving. The jeans and tee
she'd worn inside are stashed in a bag,
replaced by a tight blouse and skirt,
bare legs, a look that says
Now, now we're getting somewhere.
She spreads her lipstick tubes and compacts
like discs of bright, hard candy
across the mirror ledge. She's quick,
meticulous-she's done all this
before-the warped and sagging face
the metal mirror throws back at her
can't distort, can't hide the facts:
you're beautiful.
Outside, it's dark,
another closely humid night
in Nowhere, Tennessee. The songs
of lovesick tree frogs call to her.
She's almost ready. Perhaps her eye
catches mine as she slips her rings
inside her beaded purse. The blood
that flashes to her cheeks-how
to read that gorgeous bloom?
Her heels ring out staccato beats
as she turns and pushes through the door,
the heavy air coursing past
like an old story. I wash my hands.
The woman, blooming, does not look back.
~Juliana Gray
***
Lastly, BOYS! BEING SCRUFFY AND AWESOME! And also being, and I quote, "[...] two dudes hanging out, cooking steaks."
Strangely enough, even after almost 3 years in SPN fandom, they still make me giddy as a 13yo girl with her first crush.
*facepalm*
***
Sometimes I think my biggest thrill from remix comes from the theme and the layout. Um.
***
People, there has been an EPIDEMIC of UNCUT PHOTOS on my flist. WTF is up with that? Come the fuck on, people! THE CUT-TAG IS YOUR FRIEND. When you fail to use it, I have to adblock everything left and right, and it's just annoying.
***
With a couple of exceptions, every morning for the past two weeks I have woken up precisely at 6:39 am. My alarm doesn't go off until 7:25 am, so needless to say, I am generally displeased by this turn of events, especially since I either can't get back to sleep, or it's sometime after 7:10 am that I finally do fall back to sleep. Neither of those situations is pleasing to me! What the hell is up with this? And why 6:39 am? WHAT IS THE UNIVERSE TRYING TO TELL ME?
***
for the first time since I was laid off in December, I ordered in some Chinese food last night, since I'd been craving it, and it was payday, and I got my period, so I figured I deserved it. Sadly, it was kind of a letdown. It was okay. And I was unable to track down any sort of cherry coke to go with it, which was also a disappointment. My life! So hard!
***
So I was thinking I didn't want to import all 6610 LJ entries to DW, but I maybe did want to bring over my SPN stories, and possibly all the WW title stories, so I c&p'd a few of them yesterday, and now I am not so sure about bringing anything over. It just feels weird. What do you think?
But I did notice that right from the start, I was writing about Sam and Dean and water - "Of Recklessness and Water" was quickly followed by "Alone I Fear the Tide" and "your ocean refuses no river." I mean, I've written nightswimming fic in almost every fandom I've written more than one story in (note to self: write Max/Alec nightswimming fic. Many possibilities for pretty angst and UST are available.), but I've taken the whole water imagery thing to a new level in SPN. Also, possibly you shouldn't read too many of my stories all in a row, as they are kind of all the same story. *cough*
***
Speaking of SPN, this poem makes me want to write a story, but I'm not sure what, yet:
Woman in the I-65 Rest Stop
Emerging from a stall, she clicks
across the tiles in backless heels
not meant for driving. The jeans and tee
she'd worn inside are stashed in a bag,
replaced by a tight blouse and skirt,
bare legs, a look that says
Now, now we're getting somewhere.
She spreads her lipstick tubes and compacts
like discs of bright, hard candy
across the mirror ledge. She's quick,
meticulous-she's done all this
before-the warped and sagging face
the metal mirror throws back at her
can't distort, can't hide the facts:
you're beautiful.
Outside, it's dark,
another closely humid night
in Nowhere, Tennessee. The songs
of lovesick tree frogs call to her.
She's almost ready. Perhaps her eye
catches mine as she slips her rings
inside her beaded purse. The blood
that flashes to her cheeks-how
to read that gorgeous bloom?
Her heels ring out staccato beats
as she turns and pushes through the door,
the heavy air coursing past
like an old story. I wash my hands.
The woman, blooming, does not look back.
~Juliana Gray
***
Lastly, BOYS! BEING SCRUFFY AND AWESOME! And also being, and I quote, "[...] two dudes hanging out, cooking steaks."
Strangely enough, even after almost 3 years in SPN fandom, they still make me giddy as a 13yo girl with her first crush.
*facepalm*
***