Being normal, healthy, and relatively sane, I decided, I shall attend party given by friend. So I go, even dressing for the occasion. Including make up. I even searched out earrings. Put on heels. Check mirror, think, okay, not bad, wander off.
Well, I--got bored.
There was food, always good. Alcohol, which in itself can be highly entertaining. People. Attractive males. Music. Interesting people. The base ingredients for what should be a good time.
And I got bored. And came home. Still slightly--er, tipsy. And went TO BED.
Something is wrong.
This is the second time in six months I've gone to what I anticipated would be something mindless and fun and it didn't turn out either one. I have no idea what this says about me. Please God, don't let it be maturity sneaking up. I have action figures hanging on my walls. I do NOT hold with maturity. Hmm. Would I know if I'd been replaced with an Alien Pod Person?
*sighs* AND I have a headache, because I forgot to drink enough water before going to bed.
Whine, whine, whine, blah blah blah. I could have been writing more Human!Clark. For some reason, that bothers me most of all.
Right. I'm boring. I'm okay with this. I have every intention of becoming so boring that even children will yawn when they talk about me as that crazy old woman who lives with action figures in the old house. You know, when I have sufficiently aged enough to get to the action figure/old house section of my life.
Thieved from slodwick and musesfool, because I Am a Lemming. See icon.
First Lines (or paragraphs) of Last Ten Finished Fic (reverse order):
There was something just very, very odd about waking up to the rather calm realization you'd had your first sexual experience in a closet.
It was very cool to watch Lex laugh.
-- You Know, sequel to Closer to Breathing.
It's been raining for hours. Drizzle to rain to downpour in under an hour, and the ground went from hard to mud to liquid in three. The truck's under cover--Lex sent someone down an hour ago to move it into the garage. The yard's a black lake, shivering with every drop of rain that hits.
Outside, it's still raining, and lightning still cuts the sky into pieces, but Clark's asleep before the thunder.
-- Softer Than the Rain
Lex is sprawled on the bed, still dressed--suit pants, crisp shirt, though the tie's discarded over a chair, and Clark had seen the jacket in the living room when he came in. He grins, knowing Lex didn't mean to fall asleep at all. The cell phone's on the bed beside him, and there's a real possibility that someone was on the other end when Lex fell asleep. A folder leaks papers over the comforter into a pool on the floor. Sighing, Clark leans over to pick them up. At the first touch on the mattress, Lex opens his eyes.
So perfect, and on the day they finally own the world.
Clark pulls him closer and smiles before drifting off into sleep.
-- Calm in the House coda to A Handful of Dust
He feels the shift with the first press of Clark's knee into the mattress, visualizing soft flannel pajama bottoms and that damned faded red t-shirt, smelling of the detergent Mrs. Harrison always uses when she does laundry. Some nose-itching combination of spring flowers and baby powder that drives Lex crazy.
He thinks he has to have been ready for this to happen, but he finishes two cups of coffee staring blankly into a glossy image of closed eyes that aren't Clark's.
-- No Step Had Trodden Black, Two Paths #5
Black rainbows are drawn in glossy, oil-slick puddles, an alley no Luthor born would have soiled his shoes in. The thick, rich smell of decay from the dumpster to his left wafts over him, and he grabs on with one gloved hand before giving up, finding rough, broken concrete with his knees and vomiting whatever's still in his stomach. It's a technicolor marvel of alcohol and bile painted yellow swirling in bright red. Blood, maybe, stomach lining shot to hell. He watches it like a slow-motion video, more fascinating than anything he can possibly imagine.
Rolling away, he stares at the ruined jacket on the chair and wonders how much farther he can fall.
-- Perhaps the Better Claim, Two Paths #3
It's hours after dusk--hours after the numerous feet have abandoned their trampling across priceless rugs, busy fingers poking into every crevice, checking every room with restless eyes and voices raised loud and frustrated.
There's an unwavering knowledge that Lex will live up to it.
-- Bent in the Undergrowth, Two Paths #2
Bored. Totally bored. Brand new levels of incredible, mind-numbing boredom--rather, in fact, like Mrs. Locke's history of art class, come to think of it. Except for the fact that there was no one to throw spitballs at and no Lana in the front desk to mull.
Open for anyone to see, and Clark thinks, a little drowsily, that he never wants Lex to look any other way.
-- Holds So Lightly
Consider this cheap therapy. My shrink loves this sort of thing--you know, confronting your past. Thing she doesn't get, my past is only two months old, but you did say never again.
I just chose not to see.
-- Almost to the End of the World
A long, lean body is sprawled awkwardly across the rough ground.
Tonight will have a bonfire that no one will ever forget.
-- In a Yellow Wood
"Let me tie up some loose ends at the office. Make yourself at home. I'll be right back."
There's a full second where he actually thinks he's going to make it out of this room. Door in view, Clark sprawled in some kind of absolutely illegal invitation on the couch, and he's wondered for a long time just how strong his willpower really is. Apparently, Smallville's done more for him than he ever expected, because he's already thinking of how the hell he's going to phrase this to Clark's dad.
"Yeah." His voice cracks, but it doesn't seem to matter. "Let's go."
-- Feel Everything
I think--think--this says I suck at beginnings and endings. Though the ending for Calm is sufficiently creepy.
A very nice physicist/astrophysicist person emailed me within, like, five seconds of posting for information. I have two Very Long Emails about some of what I needed to know. And even better, she worked it into what of the storyline I gave her so I have some reference. If you left me a message about me asking, I'll be contacting today, since my first idea isn't working.
Though you know....
Awhile back--a WAY while back--I was reading on a messageboard with some whatever people doing the "fanfic is training wheels writing, blah blah blah", and while I was offended at the time, it sort of makes me giggle now. People who don't do it don't really get it completely. Fanfic authors' audiences are insta-reactors, unlike most pro-novelists. They'll tell you ten minutes after you post EXACTLY what you fudged about something and how it can be corrected. If you don't get your details right, you WILL be corrected. *grins* Sometimes publicly. Hence the fact that in my bookmarks are the following sites.
Totse, for drugs, drug reactions, and other less-than-legalish thingies, my one-stop-shop for Lex Goes Clubbing and Lex's Dark Past
a site devoted to the art of multi-strike branding, single strike, and the various methods of achieving a good brand
Two university physics program sites
Two lit quote sites, including Bartlesby's (sp) that Vic recommends so highly
One site devoted to wine, what to drink it with, where, and how.
Mapquest, for driving instructions on how to get from Kansas to California the long way.
To write Jus Ad Bellum, I was using Schindler's List, Encyclopedia Britannica, more sites involving WWII than I ever knew EXISTED, and actually went out looking at the types of barbed wire available on the market.
That's the ones that I can IDENTIFY in my fanfic bookmark folder. I've been cleaning it out today.
*grins* I find it endlessly cool that most fanficsters are more obsessive about detail and accuracy than anyone. Because it's almsot a guarantee that when you post, SOMEONE will be an expert on the subject and wilL TELL you when you've made a mistake.
Okay, answeirng LJ and getting ready to post next section. Because Discipline is my Resolution, and if I ever EVER so much as HINT I'd like to try this again? Everyone who sees this post has permission to slap me silly. But, I'm having fun. Stressing fun, but fun.
*looks at bonibaru* Do NOT say flu. Do NOT. It scares me how much that's tempting me right at this very minute. *grins* And you can stop laughing any time now.
*sighs* I need more icons. Shall search for new ones today.