jolly good! the very thing we're looking for!

i always wake up with things in mind to post, but today i went and ate breakfast first and now i've forgotten all of them. my dream, and what i was thinking about staring at the bookshelves at the end of the couch when i woke up, and all of it. one of them is tony hillerman's hunting badger (does my mom still read these after she buys them?), and i have to wonder: is it the hunting of a badger, or is it a badger who happens to be hunting? distinctions such as these keep us up at night. daddy wants me to check the dvd, which was skipping nassstily when we started to watch the extended lotr all the way through, and we need to determine if the skipping is a problem with the player or the dvd itself. ah, the frailty of human memory. he can't have told me half an hour ago.

did you know that, without any assumptions, i can prove (p>q)>(-q>-p)? it's a beauteous thing to behold.

either that, or a slightly alarming one.

fanfic survey WORTH answering! finally! from verdandi via fandom_wank:

1. The story that most clearly proves my immense genius: i just can't decide. ::sniff:: it's probably one of the ones not available on the web, so unfortunately you won't be able to verify it for yourselves. but all right, if i *must* choose... ::covers eyes:: delirium.

2. The story that I could have *sworn* would propel me straight into the ranks of lifetime BNFdom, so what the fuck is *wrong* with you, you fuckers. definitely fantasy. the brilliance of those sex scenes! its artistic merit has never been matched anywhere, by anyone, i'm sure. bite me, shakespeare.

3. The story where I sit back smugly and count how many people *didn't* catch the marvelously subtle and nuanced literary references in each passing chapter, you cereal-box-reading morons: does it count if you don't have chapters? ::anxious look:: well, the only one with chapters: unintended. the one that went right over everyone's heads: crush. so very, very deep. ::weeps::

4. The story so hot I had to clean off my keyboard while typing it: i'll just go by the feedback of my millions of adoring minions, who all preferred burn, and who am i to argue?

5. The story in which I most desperately try to prove that fan fiction *is* real honest-to-God literature, goddammit, and I am *not* insecure and I *could* write a novel if I wanted to and *Shakespeare* didn't invent most of his own characters either you know and... that would be implicit, i do believe.

6. The story I wrote even though I secretly loathe the pairing because everyone else in the world seems to be writing them and I am desperately afraid of being left behind the trend-curve: warm, probably. although i still could not have been persuaded without the pitiful whining of kmazzy.

7. The story about which I most love to whine that people are simply *too fixated* on it and it does *not* prove I'm a goddess and I am an *artist* so why don't these little peasants stop clamoring for more and just *go away?* oh dear, i'm using the same stories more than once... is that all right? ::waves sceptre:: yes? okay then. burn.

8. The story whose indifferent reception will leave me an angry, seething ball of BOFQ fury for possibly years to come: what i am to you.

9. The story whose plot I *certain* TPTB of my favorite show just deliberately stole for that last episode and they're going to ask me to head up their writing team *any minute now* because *I am an important person to them*: hmmmm. do i have a favorite show? well. er. trek is a bit out of circulation now, isn't it. how about palm to palm, then? although, really, i think tptb shockingly didn't read it before ds went off the air as well. ::frets:: c'mon, minions, get to work on that time machine.

10. The story from which Domlijah publicly quote random phrases in a carefully chosen secret code which proves they will in fact buy all their starter-apartment furniture at IKEA: saccharine. of COURSE.

11. This story is a piece of dreck, and I just don't understand how you people could have liked it. The characters would never ever really act like this and I didn't use LUBE! Are you people hormone-driven morons? it's a toss-up, here. so much of what i write is terrible. just leave it alone, everyone! burn, warm, silence, elevator.

12. The story I wrote purely as a throwaway drabble birthday present for someone or other, but for which I will STILL be royally pissed off not to get at least thirty pieces of feedback anyway. there were several, here. *naturally.* warm (kmazzy), just for the asking (southpaw526), arkansas (challenges count, no?) (silviakundera). oh, and also for sil: home. and the one that wasn't for wax, but i'm still pissed she won't read it: identity.

you are beautiful, la la la

went shopping, and parisian was having a sale. came back with a formal dress which will now be somewhat wasted if i don't go to finland after all, but then again, it'll probably fit me for twenty years. and it's SO PRETTY. squeezure!

i'm all right.

also, our dvd was skipping, sadly, but we exchanged it with no trouble and i got the excitement of ripping off the shrinkwrap twice in a row! hm. oh yes. my parents always make this no-presents promise and then they BOTH break it. it's so adorable.

le expedición

oh, so we dropped into bookland (and suncoast, and the cd store, and this home decor one that should just have been called big momma's house o' tacky, but all these are beside the point) and i looked at the new ttt bookmarks. legolas & gimli: one bookmark. merry & pippin? one. frodo & sam? ONE.

after i got done squeeing, i said to mommy, 'what are they trying to suggest?'

'not what you're thinking,' she retorted, and kissed my cheek.

but. !!! and then i saw they had galadriel, and i *pounced* on it, because, as i said to mommy, if you're the bearer of a ring of power, and you have your very own bookmark with a little piece of metal on it, SHOULDN'T THAT PIECE OF METAL BE THE RING OF POWER?* it was a gold swan.

...

a gold. swan.

swan. boats, yes. but. gold! ::hops around:: wtf! ::spits::

and then all the rohirrim came with little chess pieces horse heads, and the m/p and l/g ones with mini fellowship brooches, which would be nice if they weren't like beads. what, are people collecting these to make the world's geekiest charm bracelet or something? if anyone talks to pj, please let him know that i am not pleased.

* in case anyone has missed it, I WANT NENYA.

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i love my puppy. so much. sooooooo much.

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aw, the lesbians-seduce-doyle story was not really that good. it started off well enough but got rapidly schmoopy and, by the end, had turned into a quagmire of philosophical and metaphorical points about love and the nature of partnership.

damn.

::pout::

someone come back and give me a better one.

yes, but what did the little voices say?

the dog makes the wheezing noises that mean he's going to vomit, not actual vomit, but foamy bile. he does this semi-regularly. it goes with the kennel cough, which is a recurring chronic thing sort of like dog asthma, only noisier. so i take him out of the [carpeted] library. he barfs on the tiles, and then follows me into the kitchen. i grab some paper towels. on the way to clean up i hear mom yelling: he has gone into the living room, where the aunt and uncle (valerie and hugh) are watching fotr with the parents, and vomited a bit more bile onto the rug. why? well, the living room is his favorite room. he's a dog. my guess is that he feels safe there. anyway, so mom is irate.

'you stupid dog. don't think it's okay to be stupid! there's a whole kitchen full of tiles for you to vomit in and what do you do? you RUN into the livingroom JUST IN TIME to vomit on MY NEW RUG.'

i surreptitiously spirit the dog away.

fast-forward. hugh wants to nap; valerie is trying to retrieve bedding. mom is on a mission. we have dug up three spare comforters. is this enough? she is acting agitated.

mom: [verge of tears] we're just going to have to go BUY a bunch of bedding.
me: [produces a sleeping bag and reminds mom of another comforter and an afghan] so basically what we need is pillows.
mom: we have pillows. we have lots of pillows.
me: ^.~
mom: i know we do... i just... don't know where they are.
valerie: [tries not to expire from silent laughter]
mom: for all i know they could be in the attic. daddy was putting things in the attic.
me: well, i don't think he'd put PILLOWS in the attic.
mom: [bitterly] why? because that wouldn't be LOGICAL?
me: [cautiously] well, yes.
mom: by WHOSE logic?
me: why don't i just ask him for you. [goes from hall to living room.] dad, have you ever put pillows in the attic?
dad: no, why?
me: [goes from living room to hall]
mom: sure, he SAYS that, but that doesn't mean it's TRUE.

WANTED: legolas/gimli bunnies.

no one will write it, apparently, so i will. if i can get a plot bunny. i hope ttt will provide some, but i'm guessing not, cause jrd's gimli is just... well, not really off-putting, but he's not the way i picture him, and... no.

so! please? anyone got a bunny hopping around you'd like to get rid of?

(i'm not promising to write it *immediately*, as i've 20 pages of novel and 10 pages of spanish lit crit due in two weeks. but you never know.)

insert song lyrics here

additional company could arrive as early as 5 am, but they'll be heading straight to bed and probably sleeping until thanksgiving dinner is served, after more than 10 hours in the car. with a baby.

my cousin is adorable and all, but, well.

he's spoiled, and it's *entirely* their fault.

hrm--my tea is cold. >.> the last time i went down the hall, a door made noise closing. we're talking a very heavy door. if you *don't* want to slam it and do want it to close, it takes thirty seconds or so of careful maneuvering and handle-twisting. so, yeah, no. no more going down the hall for moi!

hm. some of the buttons on the semagic client are smaller. narrower. i don't like this. i like everything to be even.