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Amusing Jenn in Myriad Ways
If you don't send me feedback, I will sob uncontrollably for hours on end, until finally, in a fit of depression, I slash my wrists and bleed out on the bathroom floor. My death will be on your heads. Murderers.
--unknown, BTS list
That's why he goes bad, you know -- all the good people hit him on the head or try to shoot him and constantly mistrust him, while there's this vast cohort of minions saying, "We wouldn't hurt you, Lex, and we'll give you power and greatness and oh so much sex..."
Wow. That was scary. Lex is like Jesus in the desert.
--pricklyelf on why Lex goes bad
Obi-Wan has a sort of desperate, pathetic patience in this movie. You can just see it in his eyes: "My padawan is a psychopath, and no one will believe me; I'm barely keeping him under control and expect to wake up any night now to find him standing over my bed with a knife!"
--Teague reviewing "Star Wars: Attack of the Clones
"Welcome to ClarkLex. This is the list for people who watch Smallville mainly 'cause it's gay as a picnic basket. Yes, Smallville, starring Clark "Gayer than a leather pinata" Kent and Lex "Gay as Christmas at Bloomingdale's" Luthor, as two gay homosexuals who love each other, and did we mention they're gay?"
--Livia regarding some unusually dense posts on ClarkLex list
Beth: god, why do i have so many beads?
Jenn: Because you are an addict.
Jenn: There are twelve step programs for this.
Beth: i dunno they'd work, might have to go straight for the electroshock.
Jenn: I'm not sure that helps with bead addiction.
Beth: i was thinking more to demagnitize my credit card.
--AIM, 12/24/2003
I could rape a goat and it will DIE PRETTIER than they write.
--AIM, anonymous, 2/17/2004
In medical billing there is a diagnosis code for someone who commits suicide by sea anenemoe.
--AIM, silverkyst, 3/25/2004
Anonymous: sorry. i just wanted to tell you how much i liked you. i'd like to take this to a higher level if you're willing
Eleveninches: By higher level I hope you mean email.
--LJ, 4/2/2004
I'm just waiting for Brian to don a pretty lacey pink bra and panties and go skipping along Liberty Avenue singing I Feel Pretty.
--LJ, joesther, 5/17/2004
silverkyst: I need to not be taking molecular gentics.
silverkyst: though, as a sidenote, I did learn how to eviscerate a fruit fly larvae by pulling it's mouth out by it's mouthparts today.
silverkyst: I'm just nowhere near competent in the subject material to be taking it.
Jenn: I'd like to thank you for that image.
--AIM, 1/25/2005
You know, if obi-wan had just disciplined the boy *properly* we wouldn't be having these problems. Can't you just see yoda? "Take him in hand, you must. The true Force, you must show him."
--LJ, Issaro, on spanking Anakin in his formative years, 3/15/2005
Aside from the fact that one person should never go near another with a penis, a bottle of body wash, and a hopeful expression...
--LJ, Summerfling, on shower sex, 7/22/2005
It's wierd, after you get used to the affection you get from a rabbit, it's like any other BDSM relationship. Only without the sex and hot chicks in leather corsets wielding floggers. You'll grow to like it.
--LJ, revelininsanity, on my relationship with my rabbit, 2/7/2006
Smudged upon the near horizon, lapine shadows in the mist. Like a doomsday vision from Watership Down, the bunny intervention approaches.
--LJ, cpt_untouchable, on my addition of The Fourth Bunny, 4/13/2006
Rule 3. Chemistry is kind of like bondage. Some people like it, some people like reading about or watching other people doing it, and a large number of people's reaction to actually doing the serious stuff is to recoil in horror.
--LJ, deadlychameleon, on class, 9/1/2007
> previous 20 entries
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So I have a fairly icky headache and I hate work. So.
Guard Them, And Him Within by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) etharei - Torchwood, Jack/Ianto - actually, this is mostly Ianto/Sci-fi/Plot, and it is addictively well written. I like the blending of Torchwood with pure sci-fi tropes, and this was satisfying. Also, I love that Ianto's defining characteristic is his sheer competence--he's one of those characters I always see fitting in pretty much everywhere because of that. And his unflappableness. As Ianto kind of defines the word.
current mood:  happy
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Part A
Happiness is....
1.) winning my first ebay auction (this may lead down a dark path)
2.) using the ebay barcode scan function to randomly scan things and see what comes up
3.) downloading two more Android programs that also scan things.
4.) randomly scanning everything with a barcode and cackling enigmatically as others look on in worry.
Y'know. As one does.
This is one of those moments I acknowledge a worrying realization about the kind of person I am, but I just found a box with a bar code I haven't tried yet, so whatever.
Part B
I'm in a mood. No, not that kind of mood, but that kind where I am moody and (possibly?) premenstrual and want to write horrible, terrifying, sappy fic. I mean, I want to write things where people make speeches about their love and then there's lovemaking (holy God, I am using that word) on beds of flowers in some sort of meadow in an impossible spring and there are no bugs or poison ivy. Possibly birds will be singing in the background. Also, no one dies. There's a possibility someone will cry. Yeah.
...it's just worrying, all right? Maybe it will go away?
current mood: blank
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Okay, so, it is harder to find someone who will do bronze jewelry repair than one might think. Does anyone have any suggestions? The clasp thing is broken and needs to be replaced.
Picture below the cut, in case you need a visual.
( text )
Added picture of clasp. Yes, I should have added a pic of the clasp. I blame the universe.
current mood: anxious
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So after falling asleep unexpectedly rather early yesterday, it is five and I'm awake. Again.
There is nothing decent about five AM, I'm just saying. But that is not what I want to talk about. Today, I'd like to talk about a little known danger of the internet age which I feel that someone, somewhere, should have warned me about. Facebook insomnia.
We all know the dangers inherent in drunk dialing, and then there was drunk posting, and always there is insomnial posting, but I didn't realize there was also insomnial friending, when two in the morning you are--God help you--staring at your facebook and realize, a.) oh God you hate that thing so much it hurts you inside, delete it! and instead you, b.) friend people you know, even if you hate them.
There's just something horrible about staring at your sudden spate of facebook activity and realize, holy shit, what was I thinking?
THen? THEN? THEY FRIEND YOU BACK AND TALK TO YOU. HOLY FUCK WHAT WAS I THINKING?
Also, it's been fifteen, thirteen, ten years. And Facebook is not a medium one uses to break down their lives. Also, some of them I didn't hate, but then I found two exes and that was kind of funny, and also, what was I thinking?
I blame winterlive for abandoning me to die.
That is all. God help me. No one warned me of insomnial facebooking.
Also, it is nearly six am and I don't think there's enough coffee in the world to deal with this.
current mood: awake
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Question I once asked a beta (circa The Forest People):
Is offscreen cannibalism really cannibalism?
For some reason, I find that unbelievably profound. Also, I don't know the answer. Is this like the zen question of one hand clapping?
In other words, welcome to Monday. Any other zen questions that don't involve the consumption of human flesh?
current mood: awake
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Normally, I wouldn't post this, as it's not even a story, more a conceptualization of a story idea, but I am trying to bribe aelora and I think she'd get a kick out of this.
As aelora needs to finish this Heroes fic that I am kind of drugged by, and what do you know, Zachary Quinto was enough to totally make me watch the show. Who saw that coming?
Title: Just Wait For It
Author: Seperis
Fandom: Merlin/Smallville
Codes: Merlin, Arthur, Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Arthur/Lex Luthor, Merlin/Athur
Rating: R
Spoilers: None specific
Summary: What the fuck, Merlin thought in utter shock, staring at Uther--Uther--across a rich mahogany desk in rural Suffolk, fate was like a bad Hollywood remake, then?
Author Notes: To svmadelyn, winterlive and shinetheway who were heckling me while I was writing this. And possibly transtempts? Though she might have just been laughing. The original title was "I am so ashamed of myself". You see why I was sitting on this one in horror.
Warnings: Drug use
aelora THIS IS TO SHOW MY LOVE AND WORSHIP PLZ GIVE ME MORE HOLLOW HEROES PLZ.
Shame is for those not suffering from withdrawal.
( merlinfic: just wait for it )
current mood: awake
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A few more links on the warning debates:
Anonymous and Shopfront talk here about triggering, automatic thinking, and the effects.
shopfront goes into more detail here.
Warning: Both these contain links to and descriptions of mental illness, self-harm, and suicide.
Like impertinence's essay Sexual Assault, Triggering, and Warnings: An Essay (Warning: Very explicit discussion of sexual assault and the nature, anatomy, cause & effect of triggers. Is itself triggery.), both are frank descriptions of how triggers work for them and the effects of this kind of mental illness. The first link I've been following since the thread started and highly, highly recommend reading the conversation; the second link I read this morning and am still thinking about.
All of these reflect, with specific examples and reasons, why a warning system for readers with triggers is so important and the absolute necessity of writers making sure people have the tools to choose whether to read their fic.
I recommend reading both of these.
Added Thoughts
Months ago, someone did a review on a fic of mine that surprised me regarding how I structure a story (I am not one to give away information early in the story if I can piecemeal it out in drabs before dropping the major arc right on top of the reader). It wasn't something I'd noticed consciously, but suffice to say, the fact I tend to use a single line or two from a story as a summary should tell you how much in general I loathe giving away anything I don't have to on a fic before it is read. I really hate it. It drives me nuts. This is where I admit, yes, apparently I do have a goddamn artistic temperament about this sort of thing, and you have no idea what it cost me to say that, because I never thought I did.
( longer entry is longer than expected )
current mood: awake
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As This Is My Life
So apparently, someone doing roadwork cut through our cable line, and we have a.) no cable, b.) no internet and c.) no phone. Which means tonight, may not be on if I can't get the tethering to work between John II and Arthur. However, Arthur the G1 and I are going to bond like whoa. Just. G3 is not very fast. So we'll see how that's going to work out.
ETA: Have internetz! They fixed it! Shocking.
Warnings
Sexual Assault, Triggering, and Warnings: An Essay by impertinence
Warning: Very explicit discussion of sexual assault and the nature, anatomy, cause & effect of triggers. Is itself triggery.
In response to this essay, I've had a complete reversal on my general attitude of whatever on warnings. Sure, it should not take someone gutting themselves publicly for me to work out why this is so important, but there you go, that's what it actually took in this case. That is perhaps one of the hardest things I've read in the last year, bar none. Recommended reading no matter what side of the warning debate you are on and in my opinion required reading if you're going to debate this topic at all, ever, anywhere.
Also recommended:
Warnings by zvi_likes_tv at Dreamwidth, with an alternate perspective on the warning issue, along with very good conversations in comments (actually, both essays have both great and faintly terrifying commentary). I'm going to say whatever side you are on, this, too, should be read thoroughly before engaging.
ETA: reginagiraffe linked in comments to kalpurna's post on easy ways to do warnings. We shall all read and learn and do better.
For me, I think I'll just automatically add a line to all headers (and if I don't, someone for the love of God slap me for stupidity; I'm adding it to my autotext header in MSWord now) for Warning and either enter None or See Cut for a separate section before the story starts. I don't often have the more common trigger issues in my fic, but honestly, since I haven't thought about warnings, I very well may have and just haven't paid attention to it.
current mood: awake
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The Search for Puppies (Dogs, Animals, Non-Pony Size):
So I do not have a puppy. However, I do now have applications at the Humane Society and the animal shelter, because there's like, no way to get a dog otherwise. You may think I am kidding, but apparently, getting a shelter dog is wait-listed or something, cue red carpet and bouncers staring at you as you leave longing eye-tracks on a variety of, let me say this now, hideously ugly animals (with good personalities! Sometimes. Sometimes, I'm just confused). And it's not like I'm picky on appearance--I want a.) good with kids and b.) does not try to kill anyone with their sharp, sharp teeth. I mean, seriously speaking, my expectations are low.
I mean, I would prefer an attractive dog, but honestly, personality beats out looks pretty much ten times out of ten. Dad's Luke is a fairly standard looking German shepherd with impeccable manners and a lazy streak and we love him for both of those things. I do not want the Chris Pine of the animal world.
...sorry, I needed a minute to go look at pictures of him in winterlive's LJ. It happens.
Anyway. Saturday we hit two places: at the Humane Society, found a pretty miniature poodle (dislikes kids, restraint issues, beady eyes), a daschund (dislikes humans and possibly air?), a boxer mix (beady eyes, a bad habit of staring at my throat longingly), and a kind of beagleish animal (pretty, under evaluation, gentle eyes, short). Then there was this super charming Great Dane/Pyrennes mix, which totally I could have loved but it was pretty much the equivalent of a pony and it wasn't done growing. I mean, sure, it could be fun to play with and to ride to the rescue of princesses, but um. Yeah. I'm just thinking that in the event of an emergency, I want to be able, in general, to not be dragged behind my dog helplessly. Which with that one? Possibly drag my house as well.
The Animal Shelter was in fact even more bizarre--it's not like one thinks of that as a hotbed of adoption, but honestly, yes, it was. Every dog--every dog I'd identified as a potential was Interest Pending or Adoption. There was a very nice looking golden-eyed Shar-Pei mix that was medium-large and kind of bony (needs feeding and laziness, which we could provide!), but he kept staring at my mother in this way none of us were sure was friendly, and also, they weren't entirely convinced on temperament with kids. I cannot remember the mix, but the second parent's general temperament was recommended for older kids, so sadly, no.
Found: five Labrador retriever puppies (OMG CUTE!) but disturbingly large for their reputed age with that frightening paw circumference that implies Pony Sized Dog; four pit-bull/poodle combos (you really don't see that one coming), and some other random mixes. But I'm totally not kidding; every dog I even felt a vague attraction to was already spoken for. And basically, the only ones I didn't were a.) some really really sullen pitt bull mixes (I mean, like, I am looking at them for family-adoption purposes and I could actually feel their scorn) and the pit/poodle, which on one hand, maybe, but on another, poodles are not usually super small child friendly and I don't know what kind of pitt the other parent was, and also, they were cute, but holy god the shedding. The shedding.
[And the size. I'm pretty sure they meant standard poodle (I--cannot deal with the miniature one on this; again, you really don't see that kind of mix coming) and the paw size was very, very unnervingly close to Small But Furry Pony.]
So you see why I don't have a dog. I mean, I may have to actually go to a professional breeder, which totally screws my resolution to adopt. There are a few rescues I've been looking at, but the first few I checked required a strip search and possible FBI background checks* before being allowed to look at a dog, so yeah, no idea where this is going.
[* really not kidding. A year or so ago they had a pet adoption day at some place and I was looking over the paperwork and realized there was a real similarity between it and the forms we use for people who want to become foster parents of actual children. Especially small breeds. Man, there was space on that application to put your criminal record. Not even including multiple home visits and a trial period.]
The Search for Betas (Long, Long, Long Story Size):
It's--not done, current count 35K. Estimated word count is 50k in final draft, but svmadelyn has bet on 60K, so who the hell knows. The reason I'm asking when I'm still about 15K from final is that it's actually three sections that are also (somewhat) self-contained, and the first two are complete and I kind of want those done separately on their own before the whole thing is done together for continuity.
Reboot, sequel to You'll Get There in the End, did I mention it's going to be long and patience will be required? Probably two weeks until completed. Email at seperis at gmail or comment here.
In closing: I may never get a dog.
current mood: awake
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It's not that I hate my job because it is currently repetitive and boring, though that would be enough--I hate it because it is taking important fic reading and journaling time.
Also, transtempts, amireal, and I are apparently engaged in competitive writing? I don't know. We spend a lot of time posting to each other's AIM window and wondering vaguely if our fics will ever end (the answer is no). It's--well, very us, I suppose.
I'm also still gazing at the reboot fic I posted last week in a state of shock. Good shock! But still.
I also found a puppy I want to adopt, which is random, but there was this--have you ever been say, looking at pictures of dogs at an animal shelter and then stopped and realized that is yoru dog? Well, my dad's dog--part of my motive was that his dog Luke needs companionship, I think, and I've been casually reading up on what dogs work well with German shepherds and I was looking at older, quiet dogs that wouldn't mind being Luke's dom, because God knows he wants someone canine to tell him what to do, and then there are these--I don't even think they are objectively cute, but there you go. I had the page open pretty much all day to go look at them; every time I closed it, I'd go back and open it again. I'm still debating. As in, I want so much, but she is, in fact, a puppy, though already spayed, and that will mean I need to enroll in puppy classes with her. I know myself. I will need a classroom. Puppies are cute. I roll over for them and that will do none of us any good.
There are so many practical considerations, but I'm weirded out how very badly I want this dog. And I am not actually a dog person. Or really--wanting to go through pet ownership again.
I don't know.
current mood: awake
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Title: You'll Get There in the End (It Just Takes a While)
Author: Seperis
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Codes: Kirk/Spock, various
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "Spock. Just say 'I don't trust Starfleet not to mess up the only captain in the fleet who I can train up to my expectations and enjoys running into danger wearing a blindfold as much as I do'."
Author Notes: Thanks to svmadelyn, who pre-read, beta'ed, and maybe browbeat but just a little, shinetheway, drlense, and grammarwoman, who beta'ed and encouraged, and transtempts and winterlive for reading in progress and getting confused when I forgot where I'd left it the night before. After all of that, all mistakes are seriously mine, and extremely determined ones at that.
I just realized I have a playlist entirely devoted to songs about rain. No, there is no rain in this story. I just noticed is all.
( rebootfic: you'll get there in the end, 1/4 )
current mood: awake
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I think a great deal can be said about my current mood in that I'm finding like, reams of meaning in Disarm by Smashing Pumpkins. Reams. Like paper, but less corporeal and filled with fifteen year old girl angst. Well, fifteen year old me angst--that was when I was writing a sequel to Phantom of the Opera where Raoul was drugging Christine and had her locked up in his chateau in France and she barely escaped with her life and crossed the entirety of France because she was like, intuitively certain Eric was alive, and oh my God I tried to write sex.
That's not specifically what I was angsting about then--I was angsting because I couldn't speak French so as to make it more authentic and if it would be wrong if they had sex before they got married.
I come by my fanfic tendencies honestly, at least. This is also why I find ff.net ridiculously charming sometimes. I want to pinch their cheeks and say, yes, they can have sex first. Don't worry so much! You don't have to learn French! Or Catholicism. Or the French road system. Or have a horrified midnight revelation there were no toilets.
Keep in mind there was one small used bookstore and I was buying things like Book of the Courier and reading bad romance novels and not just for the porn. I needed to research.
Sharing now:
If you write a story about--oh, random, Princess Eleanor marrying Simon de Montfort, you know, this doesn't exist, you will give fifteen year old girls really inflated expectations of what to expect in the way of the shaft of love. Holy God, Virginia, what were you thinking?
If you write about random English noblewomen pretending to be servants to stop their (possibly?) younger sister from making a dreadful mistake and a Russian prince's servants assume she is a prostitute wiht a bad attitude, kidnap her and drug her with Spanish fly, leading to life-changing orgasms, don't be surprised this is something their librarian will catch them researching in the freaking twenty year old Encyclopedia Brittanica.
If you are Catherine Coulter--don't change anything. I love you.
If you are the one who had a thing for women who marry their rapists or men who rape other people and cause them to suicide in horror, that's not romance, that's soft-core Gor Light. Deal.
Your name may be Jude Deveraux. I'm not over that yet.
If you are Frank Herbert and were responsible for a twelve year old girl suddenly making the theoretical-to-practical leap of "penis goes into vagina, oh, so that's how it works!"--hey, thanks. It's fairly likely you saved me from years of therapy. Jude was right after you.
For making a twelve year old wonder how you go about that imprinting thing, leading to another round of Encyclopedia Brittanica research--really, Frank. Really. Detail, man. Detail.
If you are not Frank Herbert and wrote Dune novels....you're not actually improving. And it wasn't like the first one set that high a bar. However, thank you for the image of the Baron floating desperately after Feyd-Rautha toddling in pure evil on a balcony. I will say, if you meant to have so much humor in there, I'd be impressed. But then I read about Jessica's smooth oval face and soft white throat eighty times and realize it was an accident. A cruel accident, that kept me reading.
If you are Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, a Russian novelist, or named Joseph Heller--you taught me I will never love anything with the word classic appended.
If you are Jane Austen or Robert Louis Stevenson or Jules Verne, you proved me wrong.
If you are Orson Welles--well, you're Orson Wells. Well done.
Thank you Narnia--before you were an expression of my faith, you were the fairy tales of my childhood and Eustace was amazing. Thank you Sydney von Scyoc--I didn't know what I was reading until years later, but you told me sci-fi was about people in the end and I've never forgotten the lesson. The ships were just there for window dressing. Thank you Anne McCaffrey--this is how I found out about gay sex and Romeo and Juliet as a universal language. Thank you Marion Zimmerman Bradley--you are why I seek out the stories of women, and led me to Sharon Kay Penman and Cecilia Holland and Mercedes Lackey and Julie Dean Smith.
Melanie Rawn gave me my name and Stephen King the desire to build the worlds I'd write and VC Andrews the power of taboo. Lucy Maud Montgomery reminded me to tell my son about elves beneath the house and gnomes in the garden and fairies that you can only catch with a special net and after cleaning your room, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy.
And then I turned sixteen, but that's another list altogether.
You know, this wouldn't have happened if in fifth grade, Ms Bartz hadn't orchestrated a reading competition and told us the highest number of books anyone had ever read in six weeks. Who doesn't want to double that? No one, that's who.
Trekfic clocked 33k and is in final beta. I'm in a very good mood. Let's have cookies!
current mood: content
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On rape and men (Oh yes, I'm going there) by cereta on rape, culture, and being That Guy.
Reading both the essay and comments is the profound type of uncomfortable that always accompanies the moments that you see yourself.
I can't tell a story that hasn't been told a hundred times, and that's a story in itself--there's something I can't describe in the sheer mundanity of reading and saying, yes, yes, yes, that's me, that was me, that could have been me, that was my friend, my sister, my mother. It shouldn't be this common to be reminded how much I'm defined by what I carry between my legs.
There should be a difference between being an object and a woman; they aren't synonymous. Most days, I try to forget it's common to confuse the two. Usually, I can't.
current mood: tired
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In the middle of editing a fic my brand new D-Link router died. I have words, but none of them are appropriate.
Anyway, have changed to a Netgear N blah blah blah dualband, so seeing how that works out for me. So far, I am not complaining--except I had no complaints on the D-Link until it's utter betrayal. However, I did get to go to Frye's, stare at a 1.5 T network storage drive and extra access points, and dream.
Also, they have some ridiculously cheap desktops. No, I did not buy one. Luckily, I only brought my credit card with me.
I have like a graveyard of routers. I mean, my D-Link was fine! Just would not connect to the internet for love or money.
(Currently looking for a new desktop for my mom, since my son needs a desktop, and I'm giving him hers and getting her a better one. I feel like I'm in a constant state of updating technology around me.)
current mood: irritated
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Update to the Rob, Arnie, and Dawn transphobic comments:
Update on the Rob, Arnie & Dawn Show! at Unfunny Business with more sponsor removals.
I'm steading telesilla's list of known sponsor pullouts from here, where she's also posted about the subject (thanks for the list!):
# Chipotle
# Snapple*
# Sonic
# Bank of America
# Verizon
# Carl’s Jr (CKE Restaurants)
# Wells Fargo
# Nissan North America
# AT&T
# McDonald’s
* Snapple also includes Dr. Pepper I understand? Correct me if I'm wrong; I've seen it written as Snappe and Snapple/Dr Pepper and Dr Pepper/Snapple
ETA: A complete list of Snapple/Dr. Pepper products can be found in comments here, contributed by pacalissanctum.
So last night my family bought Sonic for all of us and I have several cases of Dr. Pepper, which hell, drop in the bucket, yes, but they're my drops to give. So far, everyone's drops are doing a pretty good job of creating an ocean.
My son's twelve. I have a goal that by the time he is twenty, if he hears this kind of filth in casual conversation, he and all his friends will react with the same horror that someone saying "I am a serial killer and eat kidneys" would engender. I set the milestones of society by my son's life. I think all of us with kids, or have a relationship with a kid, look at our kids sometimes and think, "Yeah, no. We have to get this shit gone already. This isn't working."
There's so much as an adult that becomes invisible, or so used to hearing that we barely notice. I barely notice sometimes but as more background that I have to tune out. My kid, my nieces that will one day have to live around these people, my baby nephew--I don't want this for them, I don't want them to have to tune this out.
It's not that I think we can really get rid of all the problems with society with the power of our displeasure with it, but fuck it, it's not like I don't have some free time and a sense of horrified nausea, so why not?
current mood: awake
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> previous 20 entries
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