I was planning on making a dorky "hullo I renewed my lj for another year, guess you're all stuck with me" a-ha kind of post and I would have made it earlier had I not been super busy at work and sure, I could have posted when I got home but then, well.

Setting the scene: it is 6:30, therefore dark out, I am in my awesome new leather coat, in one hand holding a water bottle and in my other hand, I am absentmindedly rifling through my keys, trying to find the one for the outside door to my apartment building. I'm in a pretty great mood; the long day of work is over and I've got tons to do tomorrow but it's pretty manageable and hey, indoors, I'll be able to put on my pjs and chill the fuck out. I have opened up the gate but I'm still vaguely on the sidewalk, listening to Led Zeppelin on my iPod, wondering WTF is going on with the red lights beaming out of the window of the next door apartment building.

And some guy walks up behind him, mutters something about my ass and then fucking grabs my ass.

Now. There are mere seconds to react to this fuckery. Because my hands are full and I'm honestly pissed, I go into this weird default, turning around to see the asshole who grabbed me I scream fuck you at him. Then, I kick.

My kick actually connected with his ass but I'm sad to report it didn't do any damage, mostly because it was a pretty blind kick and I was lucky to hit anything at all.

But yeah. That's how my day dissolved into full on bullshit. Ugh.

I don't even know. If I hadn't been so full on shocked would I have gone after the guy? (I'm guessing I had about four inches or so on him, height-wise.) Really hope that dude isn't one of my more local neighbors but it's just like...seriously, what the fuck? How fucking dare you?

I'm fine though. Just. Yeah. That's what happened.

New default icon makes me happy. ♥

My subject header is a lie. I did very much enjoy going out with some of my favorite people last night. While the club (erm, lounge) was packed with douchebaggery I had a good time body-checking assholes try to jostle us out of our space (and got into an accidental dance-off), yet I was very happy to leave when we did. Got a little dehydrated and my feet huuuuuurt. The ride back home was a trifle bit icky.

And I woke up this morning with my back hurting a bit, which hey, body-checking probably has that effect. Whatever it was worth it; I have no patience for douchebags who invade dance-y space.

Today is all about relaxation and the art of lazing about. I am becoming a master.

And I am still very much enjoying my new icon. Dean's face averages .025% of my general enjoyment of life on a day to day basis.

White boy dancing (the mocking of it, you see) is worth .020% so you can see that Dean's face is quite significant. And hilarious.

I cannot stop watching this:



*throws hands up in the air*

Gaga wins.

ETA: People are making manips in my lj. Hold me.

Just finished House of Leaves after getting it from Amazon this weekend. Really enjoyed it. The structural stuff about the house were probably super-amusing to me due to my, erm, fondness for design layouts and whatnot. Mocking over-analysis academia footnotes was a pretty clever touch. However it totally re-awakened my anxiety about walking long, dark corridors and having something that you can't fully sense lurking behind. Heh. That's going to be fun to overcome again.

At least I didn't re-trigger myself with the only painting that scares the holy fuck out of me. (What painting?. A little ditty by Goya. Sitting in front of it up close for 30 minutes while extremely sick and dehydrated messed with my head.)

I'd say the name of the painting but I'm tired and don't want to wake up to some prankster deciding to spam my post with said image. That being said, I love most of Goya's work and will revisit museums just to see it ('sup, Frick Collection?) but yeah, there's one painting of his that unsettles me deeply.

Despite all this "please don't make me huddle under my blanket" wangsting, what I really came here to post was a curious little question regarding Are You Afraid of the Dark? and Supernatural. Has anyone found fics using the plots of the show ("The Tale of...") for the Winchester boys? It seems like SUCH a good fit. Hell it would've been a really neat challenge back in the early years of fandom. Imagine the clown episode! Or the one with the Sandman. Or the one with the ghost-y prom girl. There were some awesome episodes and it seems like a damn good fit.

Reminds me how my Sister K compared SPN to Are You Afraid of the Dark? when I was first getting hooked on Show.

If you can place the quote I used for the subject header...then you probably cheated and used Google. Damn you. *shakes fist* I was gonna offer to write you up a drabble. Do you see what happens when you intenet-cheat?

I might have even baked you a delicious cookie. Then I would have eaten it and told you how tasty it was. Joking! I'm making brownies tonight.

Moment:

I referred to the internet as the "interwebs" to my dad this weekend (as I was a-visiting) and he mocked me for it. Whatever, saying interwebs is hilarious, especially when pronounced intah-webs which is probably how it sounded coming out of my mouth.

Then we watched Jon Stewart glorious mock Glenn Beck using the power of satire. Good times.

Curiosity Sated:

I finally got to see Sims 3 up and close and meh. Didn't find it much of an improvement from Sims 2. The only thing that would tempt me would be the ability to place furniture on an angle as that would resolve so many of my design conundrums because I'd like to build on angles but my goddamn Sims can't function in a world of angles and PROPER interior design plans. I suffer simplistic layouts and it hurts me so.

The faces/bodies of the Sims 3 are really creepy. The graphics quality felt a little too busy as well, which was a bummer. Too much texture makes me feel like I'm tripping.

That's okay. I have far too much fun dumping satellites on my Sims when they bore me and/or are fugly.

Ooh, and I finally had one of my teen Sims run away after his girlfriend cheated on him with his dad (um, it involves using age cheats, okay? All participants were legal during said indiscretion). Then after his (re-aged to teen) girlfriend beat him up twice, he just RAN AWAY. It was amazing.

Grossly, his dad still has the crush sign next to the STILL A TEEN girl (Violet). Oh Ben-Not-Browder. I did intend for you to be evil but did you have to be creepy too?

His son wants to become a criminal mastermind and clearly we can all see why he wants to pursue a life of crime.

You're in or your yacht:

I think I've watched too much Project Runway because my inner voice is sounding a bit Heidi Klum-Seal. That being said, weren't so many of Jay and Austin's (and Kara Saun's) creations for PR completely AMAZING? It's worth it to have a vaguely German accent in my head.

Notes on the future:

Personal To-Do: I need to write out my grocery list for Thanksgiving. You might think I'm planning waaay ahead but I'm in charge of the veggies and my main dish, the Cauliflower Gratin has some rare-ass ingredients. Manchego cheese, thou art a sneaky product when I seek you at Trader Joe's. Really looking forward to that vacation. Four days off never looked so sweet.

Fannish To-Do: IWRY fic! I wish nariya or alley_nyc could tell me what to write/what they would love to read. I'm mulling over a story set at the Getty museum because the last "new" episode of Project Runway reminded me of how much I loved visiting the Getty, even while on barely 4 hours of sleep, not my usual mode of functionality.

The trick is the writing part but I have this weekend and next to really focus on that. I'm thinking less dreamy like my last B/A fic, more grounded in reality? I think I want Faith to have a starring role. I dunno, I'm feeling a little Faith nostalgic, too.

I wrote some bits and bobs last week but they're pretty much unusable: not concentrated on any fandom, without any particular focus save on narrative-driven character pieces set in a jazz dive bar. It's sad because I can feel the characters forming but I have nowhere for them to go so I have to let them go away. Alas.

This is a Serious Conversation:

The business of writing up a contract to sell your soul to the devil is quite complex and has a tricky system of checks and balances.

I don't advise you to take part in a fiddle contest unless your name is John.

I want her shoes:

Congratulations. You are the winner of this competition of awesome.

In other words, good on both 'em. It's nice to see people who are happy with each other and secret big ol' dorkfaces; what else can you say? ♥

I've been rewatching a bit o' Project Runway S2 & S3 which has really brought to my attention how utterly craptacular S6 of PR: Los Angeles truly is when seeing some really innovative and cool fashion created several years ago with often tougher challenge requirements.

It's sad but I don't think I even want to bother watching this year's finale. The final collections have been up for months and the designers themselves aren't engaging. Not even the "Bitch" designer - she'd have been eliminated middle of the pack in any other season even the borefest that ultimately was S5 after Terri was eliminated (Terri! Come back and make pants for no one in S6 has a fucking clue). And S5 largely suffered from coming after S4 where some insanely talented people created some ridiculously awesome designs so any cast after that was bound to suffer a little but S5 had the drag queen challenge which was fucking perfection.

Sometimes I feel like even Tim Gunn is phoning it in when it comes to pretending to care about the designers of LA. I mean, these folks are terrified of color and no one can work a pattern like Uli could.

Meh. I don't even know if Project Runway coming back to NY will improve it all that much if the same "new" production crew still has their hands all over PR.

OMG I have like nine minutes into tonight to describe my thoughts about the latest SPN episode? Gah, too much to say and sleep is definitely calling so I shall direct you to read ignited's post because she is my brain twin and I LOFF her so.

( One Spoilery Comment )

A meme in the flavor of yay writing:

Pick a paragraph (or any passage less than 500 words) from any fanfic I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the characters' heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you'd expect to find in a commentary post.

Fic is tagged here.

My commentary posts often involve me explaining the origins of my word journey.

Or...it'll be a great way to kickstart my brain since I'm secretly doing writing-bits as of late. Got a deadline for a ficathon coming up and a promise to a certain BFF, not to mention my weird desire to write fic. So yeah. Have at it.

It is the eve of Halloween and I feel terribly unprepared for pretty much everything. I'm dashing out of work early to catch a hellish commuter's train out to see the family for exactly one night and a bit of tomorrow morning. Saddened that random acts of lols are for some reason EVIL and I'm getting kinda sick of being polite to others who are pretty much the antithesis of that. Meh I suck at being responsible except when I am able to put together fancy proposals that no one wants to see. :-( (That's a work woe.)

Plus I am quite put out that the number one item on Colbert's Threatdown is (OMG SPOILER) Sexy Costumes.

Don't judge. I mean, you can go as Sexy anything, there's millions of possibilities...and frog.

I hereby submit my proof via youtube:


The "Sexy Jesus" bit distracted me and i had to hunt down "Rock Me, Sexy Jesus" and give it another listen. Oh, Hamlet 2.

I think if I show up to the NYC Halloween parade tomorrow, I would be the only one dressed as Cher so I think I'm going to go as a Me which is not a costume at all but one Cher without a full Cher choir is a sad thing indeed.

FYI: the next zombie dance should be set to Single Ladies. I would give extra credit to zombie FOOTBALL players rocking that song. *nods head wisely*

Just started watching the new BBC Emma miniseries. I've just realized that the only Emma adaption I've seen is the Miramax version.

Anyways, flist what's your favorite Austen adaption?

Yes you will get a cookie for saying the 1995 P&P adaption is one of your favorites because dude, that has some epic verbal smackdowns of glory.

Toniiiiiiiiiight was awesome due to awesome people and someone might have celebrated her birthday (I will not confirm or deny that said person is loony_moony) thanks to several awesome friends doing up the living room balloon style but that's a tale for others to tell.

Instead I give you a mega-important poll and I swear I will not judge you if you pick the wrong answer.*

Poll #1475541 You May Only Choose One:
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 21

Choose:

Goodnight Internets. I give out no hugs because I have been viciously hugged out by the collective eeeeevil that I dare call my friends.

* I am judging you for just being YOU.

Poll #1475035 Ultimate Cage Match
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 48

You may only choose one. Best Supporting Actress:

If you answer this poll incorrectly, you might be wrong on the internet, I AM SORRY TO SAY.

And a quote from one of my favorite detectives all time who is not named Doakes (OMG DOAKES SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER I LOVE YOU):

"Don't go down that emotional road. Just go down on her."

Angel Batista: he understands La Passion.

Dear Journal:

Feeling listless again today. It began at dawn, when I tried to make a smoothie out of beef bones, breaking my juicer. And then at Cheerios practice, disaster! It was unmistakable. It was like spotting the first spark on the Hindenburg. A quiver! That quiver will lose us Nationals. And without a championship, I'll lose my endorsements. And without those endorsements, I won't be able to buy my hovercraft.

Glee Club. Every time I try to destroy that clutch of scab-eating mouth-breathers, it only comes back stronger, like some sexually-ambiguous horror movie villain. Here I am, about to turn 30, and I've sacrificed everything, only to be shanghaied by the bi-curious machinations of a cabal of doughy, misshapen teens.

Am I missing something, Journal? Is it me? Of course it's not me. It's Will Schuester! What is it about him, Journal? Is it the arrogant smirk? Is it the store-bought home perm? You know, Journal, I noticed something yesterday...of course. It's coming clear to me now. If I can't destroy the club, I will have to destroy the man!

The problem with LJ: we all think we are so close, but really, we know nothing about each other. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away.

I had a quite lovely day today. Saw Where the Wild Things Are which I guess I'll perhaps post a few thoughts about it at a later point, caught up on Psych. ♥, suffered through Gerard Butler singing, and spent a little time being evil to my Sims.

Also my nasty cold seems to be GONE and I am much relieved that I will no longer be miserable at work.

I have the most bitching leather jacket. I'm kind of excited to take it on an outing tomorrow (seeing Where the Wild Things Are) just to see how it handles.

My Sister K asked me if I'd joined a motorcycle gang. The answer to that question, should anyone ever ask you, is yes. Only now-ish have I realized it's the first time I've ever purchased a leather coat for myself - traditionally I got all my old winter leather coats as Christmas presents, and while I am Sad that my old leather coat is pretty much busted, I am hopeful that my new jacket shall promote the lie that I am Sort of Cool.

I already failed that by immediately pulling a Fonzie right after my sister asked that question.

One day I'll upload my WinCon photos to my computer but tonight is certainly not that time.

Ugh I saw something-or-other that the Halloween Parade this year may be scaled back? If so, MEGA-lame. I love the parade and this year wanted to judge costumes based off of the Cher Chart. *sad WOO sans hairflip*

I am missing Psych right now. The things I sacrifice when I go home to visit the folks. And by "going home" I mean doing laundry, going to the doctor, going coat shopping: you know, real quality family time. Nah, it's all good; my family is busy doing other stuff. That's how family works, yo. You go visit when you have stuff to do and they don't have time to be entertained by their long lost family member who got off the train suffering from a death plague.

(Not really. Just an annoying cold that I want to GO AWAY, THANKS.)

Argh I want to put a clamp on my nose. That's probably not a good idea, right? But it would relieve the pressure.

Thinking about Sunday is what is keeping me from being a pathetic sickie at the moment. No need to be all bummed out when there's the promise of Where the Wild Things Are. I'll keep on knocking myself out with the right cold meds and be in better shape by then. Or...else.

I look forward to bed tonight. I think I will have dreams of Glee because I watched some spoilerly clips and OMG Glee is slowly claiming a part of my soul at this point, for serious. If I wrote fic, I'd write EPIC Glee fic and by epic, I mean porn and by fic, I mean, I don't write fic.