I still exist, btw.

Christmas was pretty good - took the train up to sister's near Aberdeen, which was even prettier than usual due to snow, but the carriage had no heating. Anyway. That happened, and I finished her jumper at around 2a.m. on Christmas Day, and a box from a website with about five presents in didn't arrive until the 29th so I had to go to the shops on the 22nd and get replacements, and such. And I have not actually seen any family yet this year because when Dad came over the other day I was out. Um.

I had an [livejournal.com profile] edithmatilda for the New Year, that was nice. She brought me presents and made me tea.

On the way back from the shop this evening I saw a fox, it was in a garden and when I stopped to look at it, it just looked back at me for a second then got on with sniffing around the grass.

I have been writing bits of fic for Inception, half of which were written before I had even seen the damn film, and have created a sock-journal for it, because I am made of twitchiness.

Today I applied for a job with the help of a woman at Working Links. And I am guaranteed an interview. Which is vaguely terrifying but distant enough to be no more than that.

Oh! I am apparently dead! At the doctors last week, he tried to take my blood pressure - twice on the left arm, then once on the right, then he got another machine and tried again, and he got an error message each time, so clearly I am some kind of alien being. Or maybe I'm a wizard fucking up technology. That would really suck, actually, I get upset when my internet dies - it did that the other day because I'd accidentally hit the switch for the wireless adapter and I was really twitchy about it.

I am totally not procrastinating the next bit of my stupid WIP. Not at all.
The wind is high, and
Some great beast of the treetops
Roars its displeasure.


Bah. The weather is horrid, there are big puddles and my boots are not exactly watertight.

But now I am home and curled up under my duvet and I don't have to go out tomorrow. yayz.
I have been reading some of my old fic - for some reason a couple of people recently favourited one of my HP stories, which made me look in my feedback folder, and I looked at a couple of other things in there and one of them was for a story I did not remember in the slightest, so... Anyway, I really like some of them, mostly from a few years ago, once I had some experience. I can see odd things I've done wrong, or would like to do better, but I like them. Obviously they're tailored to my sense of humour, my idea of a good story, but I still think there's some genuine quality there, and it's really weird for me to think that about something I've done.

In other news, I now have a washing machine and a fridge in the flat, respectively bought from a charity shop and acquired from a colleague of Maureen's. Flooring is due at some point but I believe has been pushed back to next week sometime; painting is progressing but I want to do another coat in the front room, which apparently makes me a perfectionist. *shrugs*

And tomorrow I am going to take a look at a place which gets mental people making furniture and suchlike, and maybe I will start going there. And maybe I will manage to make a phone call. And, shit, I really have to get an appointment at the doctor's because I have now run out of drugs as well as pill.
I just freaked myself out.

As [livejournal.com profile] edithmatilda could tell you, I've been obsessing about cannibalism for a week or so now. It started with a crappy bit of fic in my head, and it has not quite reached book-buying stage, but I have been reading bits and pieces. (Actually, I was reading about serial killers a couple of weeks back - I forget why... no, I was reading wikipedia for QI and there was a link and so on. And I just finished knitting this hat which I saw a while back and thought was awesome. Still have to block it and sew bits, though.) Anyway, I'm fairly comfortable with my weirdness, morbidness, etc.

On the bus today, coming back from getting drugs (god, drugs! I ran out two days ago and yesterday was curled up in bed sweating ridiculously, and I managed to force myself to class but my inner thermostat was fucked, and then I ended up staying up all night so I would get drugs today) I started thinking about a story that starts, "The first time I knowingly ate human flesh..." and so when I got home I had to start writing it.

That's not what freaked me out. One of the other people is essentially my brother-in-law - not that you can tell from what's written, which is only about 400 words, but the one character point he has, yeah, that's where he came from - and I just implied that they later killed and ate him. And my POV character only comments on the loss of his cooking skills. Actually, the whole roast dinner is inspired by the meal we had at their house last weekend. (At the end of that visit, sister commented that I had "hardly said a word," which ties in with last post somewhat; but I was comfortably quiet, for most of it, just didn't really have anything to say, especially since I was already on the cannibal track.)

Anyways! Stuff, me, has been up and down, therapy has been happening and I hate it but that probably means it's working, progress on the flat is slow (but the other day I tidied what was hopefully the last big mess, a pile of dust and ash, and wound up with black snot), also I bought a Logic Puzzles magazine and have been obsessing over that somewhat. Had a 'talk' with parentals at the weekend which may or may not have helped; complained that dad said fuckall and got about two words out of him, that sort of thing.

Also Miriam gave me copies of "Murder Ballads" by Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, which is my latest play-over-and-over-and-over, which probably is not leading to a brain full of sweetness and light, but it's such fun, especially "The Curse of Millhaven".

Anyway, I have achieved, I went out and I have made stuff and I have even written a little for the first time in aaaaaaages, so, go me! and now I shall sleep, if I can.
our reflections, my dear,
are warped

the mirrors, our minds,
are cracked
and bent
and scorched

but not yet broken

we cannot see ourselves clearly
cannot, or will not; but do not

[except, perhaps, for me;
special me;
these flaws are too real]

your greatness is invisible from the inside

~~~~~~~~

Is there an objective self? You are not the person you think you are, but neither are you the person I think you are. Is there a truth? And, knowing that our viewpoints are flawed, is it possible to correct out the imbalances through a process of rationality: to create contact lenses for the mind's eye?

Look who hasn't been sleeping again. I wish I had a brain.
Yesterday I forgot to take my drugs. Also I am bleeding. And have been eating badly. So today was not particularly nice physically.

But I bought a laptop on ebay the other day and it arrives, which was exciting, and I don't know the network key so it is not online and so I wrote over 5000 words of fic this evening, which is a fair chunk of what I need by July, so go me. Maybe I will not get internet for that 'puter till I am done writing a first draft, because it distracts me so. Then again. It possibly needs a new battery. And I didn't realise it had a trackstick, which I'm not hugely keen on, but it's livable. And it wasn't partic'lrly 'spensive.

Shadow Unit are having their season finale this week, and I am getting quite excited about it. Also, I can read that website at the office, because it isn't obviously a forbidden site (as livejournal is, poo) so I read the first two installments when I was supposed to be working, which was bad of me but immensely satisfying (and the stuff I was doing was boring as all hell, so, y'know). If you haven't been reading it, it is... hang on. "A mystery/suspense show, a cop show, a profiler show--but with a science-fictional problem at its heart." I like it a lot. Also a few of the characters have ljs, which is oddly satisfying (but I spent an entire weekend reading through the backlog, so beware time-suck).

God. I really need to tidy my room, and do laundry, and I have a whole lot of wool so I need to stop buying more, and, oh yeah. Today I completely failed to make the deadline for a job application, by sitting here for hours on end reading fic. I am made of self-sabotage, clearly. Which sucks. And I have failed to call my advisor-woman for yet another week. and and and argh. But! 5000 words! win!
Earlier I had scones with jam and cream and they were very nice. I had to open a new jar as the jams available were gooseberry and cherry, neither of which I agree with. Strawberry is my One True Jam, with raspberry an acceptable substitute. I think because that was what we always had when I was a kid, but I don't know why that was. Still. Jam is good.

I have been knitting. I have nearly finished a garment. I will have to make pictures happen.

Also I wrote a little iron man fic. I have been writing bits and bobs but my big bang fic is failing horribly. Sigh.

And I updated my website, though there was not much to do.

And I really ought to sleep now. God, this whole getting-up-in-the-morning thing, I don't know...
Coughs and sneezles spread diseazles! (I have been increasingly phlegmy for the last few days, and now am sneezy also. Boo hiss.) (Also, where is that from? Is it Thomas the Tank Engine, or something?)

Today I got called out of my hole to bake something because my great-aunt was coming over for tea. Which was actually surprisingly tolerable.

I have had a ver' busy week, as have started volunteering thing. The work is not boring; the subject matter is fairly interesting, that is, but the adding-associated-people etc, not so much, especially because I have to click through about four screens to do so. Still. On Wed I was doing listed buildings and I learned strange words: a bridge was described in the listing as having "putlog holes" and "stugged rusticated voussoirs" and other such things; the gazetteer description, which I got to write, was more along the lines of "three arches, sandstone" and a smattering of history. (Oh, but it inspired me to go play freerice some more - the levels go past fifty now! it's quite exciting!)

Also I got to go down and wander the stores three times already. I have to go with someone, but it's still fun, and I ran across one of my favourite things from the old Kelvingrove, which is a woodwind instrument called a 'serpent' because it's like a big long recorder but bent so it's only torso-length, and I went "ooh ooh lookit" except not quite, but nearly.

And I've just about worked out the timing of the buses. And I'm going to go tomorrow and get a zonecard, because I've also worked out that. Annnnd.

Oh yes, I have a fic, which I wrote then actually got betaed but then remembered why I don't do that because I'm now scared of it. But I'll do that tomorrow, too, and I'll post it, so there.

And last Sunday was the choir concert, which went fine, and I wore a bowtie, which was fun, except paternal has lost his one which actually ties so it was just velcro which is not as good.

And I have been indulging in strange obsessions again - because I'm procrastinating that fic, and the huge fic, and stuff - and investigating crafty things (and I bought a set of knitting needles. So I guess I'm going to knit stuff. And I now know the difference between English and Continental and can do both, until I forget how, which will probably be soon.) and also green houses - straw bales and Earthships and earthbags, which were new to me and I'm actually quite impressed by, because you just shovel dirt into strong bags - like sandbags - and make them square and use them as bricks. So I think that's the new dream-home, for now. Not that it'll ever happen, but it's fun to think about.
So, I have to get up early tomorrow. Guess who finally regained her fic-fu? I've been contemplating a prompt from the yuletide resolutions for a while, and I now have nearly 1000 words of Dexter fic, which could use an American check. And a voice-check. Possibly also a canon-check. (Hey, do any of you even watch Dexter? It's good, but gory. And now on ITV, just a few episodes in to season one.)(Um, that bracket was supposed to be asking what Harry said about Deb knowing. Huh.) Also someone to tell me when to stop, because they have way too much to talk about for me to deal with right now. Any volunteers?

And I'm considering signing up to write 40,000 words over the next four months, when that's more than I've written over the past two or three years. And I'm going to have much less free time for the next few months, as well. But I will have over an hour on the bus each day, which I am going to use to catch up on my unread books, but which could also be used for writing. Hmmmm.

I am going to switch off 'nando soon as he is grinding almost incessantly, poor lamb. I haven't decided whether or not to switch him back on. Hmmmmmm.
I washed myself. I put a bad wrong DW snippet on my site, which was comments for [livejournal.com profile] nostalgia_lj out of evil. I re-read all my SGA and SPN fic (and this is horribly egotistic of me, but I adore Hospitality probably more than is healthy given how dark it is - it makes me shiver even though I wrote the bastard. It's one of the few things I've written that I think I would have left feedback for (I utterly suck at feedback-giving, most days, and very occasionally find myself sugar-high and over-compensating.) It's one of those things that makes me think, hey, I really can do this shit.) and some things from recs.

I really really need a writing icon. I have been looking for images but not finding any. Argh, etc.

Now I am going to sleep and after that I will go to see a [livejournal.com profile] nostalgia_lj and there will be Ten! omfgyay!

ETA: Icon is a bit of a poem by Rebecca Elson. I like her stuff. Maybe I will type up some of her stuff in violation of copyright because it is good but costs money.
went into Glasgow to buy stuff for Iceland trip, was successful, got home tired and overheated. earlier, the boy got me to fake paternal's signature, and said, "it's just a squiggle," not realising that it was fairly accurate.

Internet was mildly broken, so I started going through my files, and... there's so. much. shit. and there's all these things that are part-written, going nowhere, bits and pieces that could be good if I just put in some fucking effort... meh.

one of the things I found: drabble-and-a-half, WW, Sam )
I have a headache. And I went to the shops and got rained on. And I want to sleep lots, so I may actually go to bed fairly soon, but then again possibly not, and huge guilt for not having started studying, and I was supposed to get up in order to make a call (urgh. phones) and...

[livejournal.com profile] nostalgia_lj commented on the lack of post-apocalyptic BtVS fic, and that reminded me of a little snippet I wrote at least a year ago so I dug that out and put another line on the end to round it off and here it is:

snippet )

Damn, I miss writing. I just... don't seem to have the facility for it at the moment. It's because I have a ficathon thing overdue, and the last chapter of SE still waiting pre-sugarquill-posting-revision, and... I dunno, I just. don't seem to be inspired, atm.

Enough with the self-pity, going to take some paracetamol.
Internet is back! *cries with joy* (no, really, there are tears in my eyes. it may just be hayfever, though)

But I had been home for, what, six hours or so, and the modem blew up. Literally. There was a flash and a bang and a smell of burning. And the thing was just down by the side of my chair, so I was somewhat startled. And they said the guy would come to fix it yesterday. And he didn't. And he only just came, but he came, and I have the Internet again!


The 'good' thing about not having the Internet is that it made me go through some of my files, but that just made me bitter at the number of things I start and don't finish. Though there were a couple of gems. Such as this snippet of dialogue which I planned to make a fic, but having re-found it think works all right as is, so I put a couple of notes on it and here it is:WW dialogue snippet )

But it also left me sitting watching vids for hours on end, and I found a couple of quotes files, and now there's about a fortnight's worth of fic that I want to re-read and I'm going away again on Friday. Bugger.

Oh. Yes. Also it made me write. But nothing useful. Just another five thousand or so on the Alex-POV I was rambling through a while ago, trying to write my way into his head, and it hasn't been particularly effective, but I think I'll post it when it's finished anyway, just because. And it should (hopefully) be finished soon.

Oh, thank all the gods I have the Internet back again! I was sitting forlornly at the computer for hours, just aching for some fic or some lj or something, and... *sobs* (not really)
[livejournal.com profile] nostalgia_lj said: "Chris Carter/Brannon-Braga RPS! I'm so gonna write that!"

One projected line is: "yeah, I don't understand my show either."

We have to hold her to that.
So I'm doing this real-time RR thing with the_cube and I'm supposed to be writing at the moment but the other person hasn't shown up, and I'm writing by myself and I've got a bit, but, y'know, procrastination.

And. Um. Anyway, I was thinking about this "My ___" meme, and [livejournal.com profile] nostalgia_lj was nagging me to do it, so I'm going to do bits and bobs for random characters because I don't... I dunno. I'm writing M/K as of now so I'm doing M and K now. Perhaps.

My Mulder )

My Krycek )

And I've realised I really don't know enough about canon to be an effective part of something like this. Seriously. I do not know enough about the X-Files. Though, y'know, sometimes I think CC doesn't know enough about the X-Files to write it, so...

Grr. Arg. Must write more.
"you write stuff for fandoms you haven't even fucking seen!"
"oh, there's a boy in that one and a boy in that one, they can fuck"

I don't do that. Do I?
Am back in St Andrews, back on 'nando, thank the little fishies...

Took the longer bus back here (which took, like, three-and-a-half hours, but I could have got off really near my house if not for having to go into town anyway so staying on bus until bus station and walking through town and... uh, yeah) and re-read most of Good Omens and ficced a little...

Am annoyed at progress of fic, though, because I started doing this tiny GO vignette. And then my brain starts talking, telling me that Crowley may or may not have eyelashes but they won't be good ones because he has snake eyes for crying out loud, and that the line I was going to use is a really stupid thing to say, and that Aziraphale wouldn't do that because he's a bit of a bastard really and if he started to do something consciously nice for Crowley he'd stop himself because they're "enemies" and... grr! And it's starting to possibly form a bit of a plot, which is a really weird experience for me, so, oh well.

And of course, at a time when I should be studying my little heart out, my brain is actively ficcing in three different fandoms. *kills self* (not really)

Oh. And the other thing making me pout - and this is a few days old, mind, so this is major. My short hair, which I thought was quite punk and butch and a teeny bit scary, is, according to both of my sisters, cute and fuzzy. *pout*
Hooray for procrastination. Or not. Because I'm at home and getting nagged to study and wondering why I decided to stay home this summer. Oh fuckweasels.

New house is nice enough, though, and have decided am going to spend much time in the loft, as it's been converted into a room with a pull-down ladder, so I can go up there and take the stick up with me and pull up the ladder and then nobody can come up unless I allow it. And the parentals said I could decorate it, so, joy.

Um. I think that's all. Oh. Wait.

Wrote a little fic. But for yet another fandom - Daria. Fandom whore...
And another thing.

The title of the last show in the first series of Sports Night is "What Kind of Day Has it Been?"

This title is better known to me as the title of the last show in the first series of The West Wing.

Both of these shows are written by Aaron Sorkin.

I'm just saying, re-using titles is not something you should do. No matter if it's one of the better titles from a series with such stellar examples as women's names and random quotes from the script proper.

And I'm not saying I'd do any better, in fact most of my titles are fairly shitty, but... these people are professionals. And I tend to think that someone who gets paid to do something I would love to do for a living ought to be a little better at it than I am!

That is all.
I know I shouldn't be criticising professionals. But I'm sitting reading my way through scripts for Sports Night.

And there's this teeny bit of word choice which I don't like at all. And hey, I'm editing this for spoilers even though it's for the middle of the first season of a defunct show. So. Y'know.

REMINDER: THIS EPISODE WILL AIR WELL BEFORE
THE "___" EPISODE, IN WHICH male A, male B AND female C
HAVE ALL SLEPT TOGETHER IN VARIOUS COMBINATIONS.

The word "various" is my problem here, because all the combinations I'm seeing are AB, AC, BC, and ABC. Now, in my world, four doesn't really amount to various. But since this is the kind of show it is, the only valid pairings are AC and BC. Two possible combinations. Two is in no way denoted by various. Various, to me at least, has the same sort of connotations as several. Definitely more than two.

It was just that I looked at it and I immediately caught that the slash pairing was inherently wrong. So. Oops.

It's just that I'd been a little busy with the Aaron-Sorkin-worship and that jolted me out of it and into hysterical laughter.

And I'm just gonna go keep reading now.

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