January 31st, 2008

moody cow

i wish physics had been a little clearer


When I'm 64 by nymphaea1, SGA, Sheppard/McKay - I will say up front that I might be a tiny bit unobjective, as she wrote it for my birthday (MY BIRTHDAY! I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THE LEVEL OF AWESOME OF GETTING FIC FOR MY BIRTHDAY! FOR ME ME ME! I'LL STOP NOW.), but if I'd picked this up randomly off of the newsletter, I'd still have utterly loved it. It's domestic, established relationship and first-time, their future and how they got there; it's warm and gentle and washes you along in how they make an ordinary, extraordinary life together.

This is one of those that needs to be experienced, with tea, and cookies, and a pillow, cuddled under a blanket, warming from the inside out. It's lovely.


Script with the right generic has returned me to zen. I am very zen, so zen I sat up for way too long after eleveninches, damn her dark soul, pasted the link to ONTD about Britney and I am seriously refreshing going, WHAT NO WHAT THE HELL PAPARRAZI, YOU STALK HER AND YET CANNOT GET ME USEFUL INFORMATION?

I have never been so ashamed. But luckily, my parents are worse; when I told my mom, her first reaction was to run to my dad and discuss the situation thoroughly. I don't even know how to deal with that.

It's odd; I didn't realize how much it was screwing with my mood until today. I keep smiling and I wore makeup just because, and I pulled out my boots and walked into work feeling confident and pleased, like I could learn anything and do anything.


Boring work stuff under the cut.

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The Universe Only Mocks Because It Loves

I don't actually believe that, but I am getting a little bitter my best fic and meta ideas are regularly hitting me between eleven and one in the morning, when I'm most inspired to do and least likely to be able to type that much. Best is a subjective term that amuses me, because seriously, I am no cathexys when it comes to meta; my entire conceptualization is the idea there is a vast pool of answers out there that I just have to ask the right question to access.

I was thinking actually about this saying, "Still waters run deep", which is usually in reference to small children or people who are quiet, with the general suspicion that one day, they will erupt into megalomaniacs bent on world domination. Not that I do not look forward to my eventual jackboot world conquerer, as I have no desire to be first against the wall, but it always struck me as weird. I was a talkative child; I'm a fairly talkative adult once I'm settled in my skin. And you know, awake. I resented very much the idea that my depth was measured by the seconds of my silence, because damned if I was going to stop narrating my life anytime soon. And when I added the imaginary lives of imaginary people--really, why be quiet when there's so much to share?

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