woohoo, SEVEN hours of sleep!

i haven't gotten any writing done, and i've been neglecting my favorite aunt and uncle. i lived with them last summer and. yeah. so it's a pretty big deal, but they came to visit without aubry, who's my favorite person in the universe, and i'm kind of lost with nothing to do. there are four of them, and most of the time, the adults hang out together, my sister goes off with my cousin and aubry and i lock ourselves in my room all day and all night.

when we were little, this was to play twisted games with barbies having sex and incestuous, soap-opera like relationships, and to read the sex scenes from trash romance novels and stuff; now it's more to read my slash out loud and surf the net and talk about music. nonetheless, and despite the fact that in theory, in her absence, i should be able to write...am unhappy.

my little sister and i slept in the same bed again last night--well, ok, my bed. and she's very snuggly and cute, so i feel a lot better. i had a stomachache, which she soothed by being her adorable tiny little cute self.

having revelations about my childhood and my milder neuroses, it seems, at a fantastic pace now. self-awareness is starting to suck. also, i don't want to study greek. :(?

like a cool breeze on a summer's day

i don't know what the matter is but i don't like it. *throws a tantrum.* there.

and if i go to the arboretum OR the botanical gardens today... you're going to hear complaining about it later (bwahahaha).

hmph. the writing isn't so great either. not even 2 pages in an hour. gaaaaaah.

wax_jism'd better finish the new void soon so i can read it. feel very grumpy.

stomach is feeling EXTREMELY iffy. fuck.

why do they beep bad words out of songs? doesn't that annoy the fuck out of you?

why do i have this compulsion to be connected to the internet? i need to write--it's not like the internet does any good for that.

ha! but have started writing the she-ra sequel:

When you bend your head to smell the fresh-wind coolness of her hair, she sways backward, pressing the firm-soft curves of flesh into you, and your mouth opens on a little cry, your hands shaping, spanning her waist, smoothing silk over the curves of her hips.

When you were a child, no one would touch you; if you'd grown up with Adam, your twin brother, in the Royal Palace of Eternia--but there is no use thinking that. You were kidnapped, a baby, and raised Hordak's protege, always Captain Adora in his head, even before he gave you your first blaster and your first troop at twelve. You were never hugged, never caressed, by Shadow-weaver or Hordak. You still do not know what, precisely, they feel for each other. You rarely saw them touch except in a sort of passion verging on anger.

femmeslash--help, please!

kmazzy quite rightly pointed out that the sex scenes in my she-ra femmeslash were very short. the sequel hopes to rectify that.

anyone want to rec me some good femmeslash? any genre. i'm begging, here. it's not that i CAN'T write it entirely on my own, but--would prefer to read some first, to get a better feel for it. all i've ever read was silviakundera's and some star trek by jat sapphire.

is shadow weaver really green?

--yes. nevermind. move right along.

[edit--while at home must find she-ra tape--whee! she-ra! i LOVE she-ra!]
[edit 2--found it. insert approx. 6 hrs of squeeing! SHE-RA! even if i worship wax ridiculously, i'll hear no she-ra disparagement even from her. ... ... ... and also: my dog is lying here, stretched out, stinky and panting with his little tongue out and his legs stretched all out and ohmigod he's SO.CUTE.]

guh?

a dressing down, by suki, cj/ainsley, west wing femmeslash. thanks, nemoricultrix. uhm. mmmmmmmmmmmm.

food worries and femmeslash

feel unpleasantly full. like i may throw up. like my balance is off. the thing is that i've only eaten a sticky roll, two cookies, half a bowl of salad (vegetables only), and a bowl of red beans and rice all day long. the b&r had no meat whatsoever. and my stomach is complaining away.

i may or may not weigh in the immediate vicinity of 100lb. i find this vastly disturbing. i HAVE to eat, dammit, but i can't stand to feel like this every time i do it.

am on p.5 of she-ra femmeslash, woohoo. You hear her footfall in the door and you feel it at the bottom of your jaw, a rush of adrenaline and nerves and cautious darts arrowing through your gut, centering like an opening flower between your legs, hot, ripe and full.

usually i find writing smut a curiously dissociated experience. fantasy, a lotrrps, was the exception to that--and the title says it all. emerged from a rather sweaty dream. this one--didn't, but the images keep washing over me like this and i have to grit my teeth. have been at their mercy all day long. there's no sign of them going away. kk, i took your advice. and oh.

you'd think smut-writing would purge hormones, but this isn't the case.

huh.

angstmuppet-in-training. whee.

the mild-mannered adora becomes she-ra only when she holds aloft her sword and says "for the honor of grayskull, i am she-ra!"

her identity crisis, as explored in my new story: (yes, i know, with the snippets, but i'm trying to tease you into reading it):

You are not She-Ra. You are Adora, and you were raised by a Papa who executed people every day, and a Mama who kept your will slave to a spell. The leadership of the Rebellion listens to you, but it does not depend on you, and when you appear in Castle Bright Moon one day, your cheeks still flushed from the wind of flight, your body tight-tuned and fine-wired from adrenaline, your best friend takes your arm, his cape swirling behind him, and says: "Adora! Where were you? You missed it all--all the wonderful things She-Ra did!"

And you smile at him, and say you're sorry you missed everything again, and you hope one day you will see She-Ra, and you feel sand slipping through your fingers. You pass She-Ra every day in a hall of mirrors; when you reach out for her you touch only glass.


[you know, i've never written a love poem that was good? i'm okay at haiku, and stuff. if i had someone to serenade, i'd do it with stories. of course, i did for aubry, sort of, but i'm not in love with her, even if she is the best girl in the universe. --anyway. if this story were a love poem, what would it be about? to a certain extent all of my stories are love poems... deep philosophical thoughts. haha.]