Boy Meets Boy first impressions:

Awwww. Cute gay men.

Second impressions:

0_0 This is so. very. wrong.

I do sincerely hope that the cash prize for the straight guys is very large, because anyone who would do something like that for money had better be doing it for a worthwhile sum. *anger* That's just beyond cruel, to do that to someone.

But! The following episode of Queer Eye was especially good (with an off the scale "aww, how cute!" factor), so that sort of made up for the "My god, how can they do that" factor of BMB. I've decided that, while the fashion guy is utterly shameless and truly hilarious, the grooming guy really is 'the cute one', with the food guy as a close runner up. I've decided that the show is like Trading Spaces, only gay. Sorry, gay-er. It's a good thing.

The parents just sort of gave me odd looks, and then sat down to watch part of Queer Eye. Mom couldn't take too much of it, and dad got distracted- but the funniest part of the show is the first ten minutes, when the Fab 5 first start ransacking living spaces. *evil cackle*

And now, I demand that it be Friday, right now. *pouts*

Not including today, I have worked a total of 76 hours this summer and have collected a total of 1796 potential new Ekornes customers for my Great Big List O' Stores. And, for reasons that are entirely my own fault, I have not gotten paid.

D'oi. >_<

So, I got to drive halfway home today. Mmm, driving. Vera is a happy driver, yes she is. While Kris was driving, however, we had to play the geography game to keep her awake.

Oh, the horror. I despise the letter 'e'. And the letter 'n', come to think of it. So, a few quotes from the trip.

"E, eh? Let me think...Evil, it's a state of being, you've got an 'l'."

...she got me back with Eden, however. Alas.
"And the stagheads!"
"Stagheads?!?"

"The place is immaculate, and therefore not fit to be lived in!"

"He's like an Anthony Michael Hall clone- only without the hormones. They even have the same hair!"
"So, does that make you Molly Ringwald?"
"God, I hope not."

"Cheers, queers!"

"There is to be absolutely no ABBA in this car while I am driving! None!"

"In other news, the state of Vermont has dropped off the face of the planet and no one cared. Next up, the Kennedies."

"I don't really have identity issues. I mean, I know who I am, and I know who they are. We all just happen to be the same person."

Stupid Vermont and its no free-local-calls. Bah. I did get to see Pirates again, though, and Spiderman and A Midsummer Night's Dream and SpyKids2 and Queer Eye For the Straight Guy and Mtv's shiny animated Spiderman show and VH1's general shininess in all things it does and The Count of Monte Cristo and Sleepy Hollow. I think that was it.

Queer eye for the straight guy is hilarious, and I am not developing a crush one the one with the funny name. Kyan or something to that effect. Damnit.

Alas. I am also not sitting here slowly eating a chunk of pumpkin flavored fudge.

...aw, screw it. My waistline's already shot to hell. A little fudge (or a lot) isn't going to change that much in the long run. At least a few good things come of Vermont.

Before the night is over (morning, whatever) I am going to order a ddr pad. I will, I'll do it!

...just not right now. But I need one for the exercise incentive. And before the week is over, I'll order myself a computer since that particular graduation gift (the computer and the ddr pad being the only things I actually asked for) isn't coming, either.

Or maybe I'll just go order doujinshi off ebay instead. So much to do, so little time...

The parents are gone for the time being. They left a note. It said to eat lots of fruit.

My parents are, without a doubt, completely insane. They're in Baltimore, by the way. They were supposed to be at the shore, but I think they took a wrong turn.

Ah, well. Leaves me home alone for the night, though Mark will be about tomorrow, even though I won't.

Mmm, fudge.

In other news, I am a moron.

But, I'm going to have this feckin' project done tomorrow, I swear.

Three new stores in every state would fill the company's quota quite nicely; it's up to me to find candidates for each of those stores, keeping in mind that states like Rhode Island don't have room for any more stores and that states like Nebraska don't have enough people for any more stores. It's a good thing I only need three, because my lists all just got a lot shorter. >_<

This is no longer a creative journal- it's a whining-about-work journal.

And some day, I'm going to get paid. ...some day.

huzzah.

http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/abs_news_body.asp?section=Celebrity&oid=28366

Pirates of the Caribbean: Stick to the Ride
Oooh, that one smarts. The first paragraph makes me splee. Movie reviews are so much fun.

Oh yeah- Pirates of the Carribbean and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?

Pirates was better. League was short, which was much appreciated, since it was intensely pointless but a fair amount of fun.

Stewart Townsend as Dorian Gray made me go Eeeee! And now I must read the book. I must read (almost) all the books those characters came from, because if nothing else, I have gained from the movie an appreciation for how much a character can be butchered.

But Mina Harker as Psycho!vampiress amused and delighted me a great deal, especially in combination with psycho!experienced!Dorian Gray. Mmm, sexy.

The invisible man amused me, and the boyz were greatly impressed by his ability to run about naked in the snow. Captain Nemo shouldn't have been able to kick quite as much ass, but hey, we don't really care. Sean Connery should have been shot. Sooner. Tom Sawyer made me want to bang my head against a wall, but I restrained myself and felt sorry for Dr Jekyll instead.

So many books to read...

Pirates, on the other hand...Now, Orlando Bloom is pretty and earnest looking and I understand in abstract why he has hordes of screaming fangirls hanging from his prancy little feet, but really. When compared to the swashbuckling delightfulness that is Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow, he just doesn't measure up, I'm afraid.

Now, sure, Legolas is a prancy little elf boy, but Jack Sparrow is a prancy badass pirate, so I'm afraid he beats Legolas every day of the week, 'cept maybe when he's hung over. There are no words. None whatsoever. But when you see me staring off into space with a silly grin on my face, it's probably because I'm thinking about Pirates, and the rampant (gayness) swashbuckling. Mwahaha.

Unfortunately, I keep on getting Jack Sparrow and One-Punch Mickey confused in my head, so there's a prancy pirate with a Piker accent running around up there. Must watch movie again to get this sorted out.

But right now, I must go play scrabble with my family and try very hard not to get bored or angry and wander away.

*sigh*

Remember, children: Philadelphia is not in New Jersey.

I can't believe I've still got another hour...

It's much easier to exist in this place when you operate under the assumption that all of them lost their sanity under a pile of invoices, which were subsequently filed in the wrong place.

Except for Cindy's, of course, because she never makes a mistake.

Never, ever buy furniture from Huffman Koos, Breuners, or Goods. And especially don't buy any sort of Natuzzi furniture from them. The stores sell really stupid end tables, and Natuzzi has a really stupid website. Don't support stupidity! Blah. I still have an hour left. Shoot me now.

Or give me ice cream.

...I missed Baltimore.
*thunk* *thunk* *thunk*

That was the sound of my head hitting the desk. Repeatedly. Just don't ask me *how* I missed Baltimore. I'm not entirely sure, myself.

On the west coast alone, after weeding out and under-noting the multiple and unusable stores, there were still 186 entries from the states of Oregon, Washington, and California. I am so. Very. Sick. Of. Zipcodes.

45 minutes. I might be able to cut it down to half an hour. If I don't, I might go crazy.

By the way, I'm marrying Johnny Depp. Or, at the very least, I'm stealing his clothing.

I think the only states I have left are North and South Carolina, and Louisiana. Huzzah.

It's 5:05. In ten minutes, I'm leaving or so help me I'll stab myself in the eye with my cell phone. x_x

Right, I lied. I've actually got ten states left, but three of them are Rhode Island, Hawaii, and Alaska, so they don't count. There aren't any people in Alaska, and there isn't any space in Rhode Island. And Hawaii is just too far away.

Leaving now.

He didn't hit me for a home
Or hit me up 'cause he was cold
He was addicted to drugs
And I could see that in his eyes
What about me?

Well I was only rolled
He didn't rob me for food
It wasn't hunger, but a jonze
He needed a fix,
Someone will fix my broken bones
And I'll feel better in the morning
The pain will fade as time goes by
What was taken,
I won't miss, or I'll replace
Nevermind me,
Well I'm all right

He seemed to hate what he was doing
He sure knew how to get it done
Possessed by an addiction
I don't have to comprehend
What about me?
Well he whipped me with a gun

He didn't rob me for food
It wasn't hunger, but a jonze
He needed a fix,
Someone will fix my broken bones
And I'll feel better in the morning
The pain will fade as time goes by
What was taken,
I won't miss, or I'll replace
Nevermind me,
Well I'm all right

I'll feel better in the morning
Nevermind me, I'm all right

- "Nevermind Me", Mighty Mighty Bosstones

Social commentary with a kick. :) Didn't really listen to this CD that much before...kinda noisy sometimes, but good music anyway. Quite a few songs are about drugs, though...*sweatdrop*

Actually, it's not so much that he has gender issues; Dei really has more plain ol' identity issues, what with the whole being possessed and controlled and subsumed by darkness and all. The thing with the sword doesn't really help much, either, but I haven't written that yet.

He does occasionally get confused with a girl if his hair is down, though, and if he's in a goth mood. Still, he's quite decidedly male, all identity issues aside.

Now stop suggesting someone drop a nuke on my head. It wouldn't do any good, you know. My ideas would just mutate into something horrible and green...with magical, physics defying pants.

Oh yeah, and Sinbad? Oooh, was that shiny. And Brad Pitt was a sexay pirate man and Michelle Pfeiffer was a sexay Evil Goddess and Joeseph Fiennes was sexy strait laced goody two-shoes prince who gives up happiness for the sake of his friend- said friend who promptly deserts him. Gah. Catherine Zeta Jones was decidedly unsexy because she voiced a glaring Mary Sue named, of all things, Marina.

Ugh. I have moral objections to that name.

But it was preeeeety. And Sinbad was preeeeety. And Proteus was preeeeety. And Eris was dead sexy (and I want her hair).

Plot was predictable and the animation had wonky anatomy (they had no spines. and no pelvic bones! None! WHERE ARE THE HIPS?) and some of the CG was just plain bad...also, the love interest was a complete Rinoa, with a 'rebellious' haircut, and therefore utterly annoying and despicable. She had good banter, though.

The banter was good. The ass shot was good (you never get ass shots in Disney- why I love Dreamworks). The pirates were wonderful. The fight scene in the beginning was seventeen degrees of spiff. Eris' hair was the source of all Evil. Mmm, evil.

We were the only ones in the theatre. Whee!

"I told you it was flat!"

WARNING: Way too many details to follow- details of the disgusting and girly sort.

Don't say I didn't warn you, okay?

So, sometimes I wish I were a boy- usually just a few days a month. Like now, for instance.

There are, supposedly, girls who don't suffer much through their periods. Lucky bitches.

Oh, don't get me wrong, it's really almost quite pleasant. For instance, I just love being able to feel the walls of my uterus peeling away, bit by bit. That's always a great feeling. Makes me feel very in touch with my inner mother as my entire abdominal cavity decides to rearrange itself without my permission.

The not being able to walk thing, that's great too. Because when you're in so much pain in a more or less focused area so close to your legs, they just sort of sit there and tingle, instead of actually responding to motor commands. Nope, sorry, I'd love to get up from my desk, but that just ain't happening unless you've got a wheelchair handy, sorry. And when the numbness moves up through my back and shoulders to my arms- that's when it becomes far too much effort to do more than twitch my fingers, hence the reason why I'm being so jerky with the mouse.

The nausea's always lots of fun, too. I hate vomiting almost as much as I hate crying, so your chances are very slim of ever seeing me do either. Supposedly putting your head between your knees helps, and I really would like nothing more than to curl into a little ball of mindless pain, but it's a bit difficult to work when you're doing that.

Just a smidge.

Don't even ask about my current emotional state. Just. Don't. Fucking. Ask.

The bloating, that's always a great feeling. And the way my fingers swell from water retention until I can't fit my rings on them without making them ache- only most things ache, so that's hardly noticeable after awhile until I try to fidget with them (what else are they for, after all?) and I find that I can't because my fingers are too big.

I also tend to think in run on sentences because there's really no other way for me to keep track of much beyond the fact that- ow, fuck, this hurts way too fucking much.

I still can't decide whether it's better to grind my teeth down until my jaw hurts too much to talk or to just knaw on one of my fingers until it goes numb. Both actions have their pros and cons.

Actually, what I'd really like to be able to do is remove the lower half of my body- say, everything below the lungs. I've never had trouble with my lungs. My lungs and I get along just fine, as opposed to just about every aspect of my upper and lower abdomen. Except my kidneys. I'll keep them. Maybe my pancreas. But that's it.

What's really the worst part about this- the two worst things, really- is that it's not like this is a nice, constant pain. It's one of those fluctuating, throbbing pains that doesn't keep still, and just when you think it might be going away, it comes back again, twice as worse.

And I lost my bottle of advil and I've no idea where the other painkillers have been hidden around the house.

Fucking hell. I hate being a girl.

Oi. So, this new random mix CD by Squeaky?

Wow. Random. I don't recognize most of these songs, but I like 'em. I like 'em lots.
Track list so far...

1 When I Grow Up- Garbage (I like this song more than I should, I think)
2 Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen (We all know and accept that this song is God, yes?)
3 Stonecutter's song- The Simpsons (Who keeps the metric system down? WE DO!)
4 Hallelujah- Rufus Wainwright (...amen.)
5 Walkin' on the Sun- Smashmouth (*boogies* Yes, this song was made for boogying)
6 Road Man- Smashmouth (*giggle* RA-TA-TA-TAAA!)
7 My Name is not Merv Griffin- Garry Muller (*falls over and dies* His real name is George!)
8 Pinch Me- BNL (Underwear!)
9 Call Me Al- Paul Simon (*boogies retro style* how come they never got Art Garfunkle?)
10 The Peanuts theme-meh (*boogies jazz style*)
11 Random Jazz (because everybody needs a little random jazz in their lives)
12 More Random Jazz (in six different flavors!)
13 Really Really Cool Song That Doesn't Really Exist (because I can't find any trace of it on a search engine, damnit!)
14 Transcendental Instrumental Song- (*drool* preeeety)
15 Why Can't We Be Friends- Smashmouth (much amusment. I *heart* Smashmouth)
16 Zibby-da Song- damned if I know (it's like a Kirtan gone horribly wrong...)
17 Hoedown- dunno (Beef: It's what's for dinner. *boogies*)

An' that's it...I really wish I could figure out the name and group that does track 13, it's buggin' the hell out of me and I really like the song. Will have to ask Squeaky next time I see him.

Watched last two episodes of Eva. Reactions:

Director: I dunno, I think we could've done Kaoru's death scene so it had a little more impact, a little more emotive significance- we may need to re-edit some of those scenes, or make Shinji's hesitation last just a little longer.
Lackey: Uh, sir? I don't think that'll be possible.
D: Why not?
L: We ran out of money.
D: Well, get the animators to do the last two episodes, and we'll pay them later!
L: They all left, sir. And the screenwriter just shot himself. Said he couldn't take it anymore, the show deprived his life of all feelings of worth and joy.
D: Damn. What do we have left for the last two episodes?
L: Well, we have some of the preliminary character sketches, these pictures from my vacation last summer, and these doodles one of the animators did in the margins of this take-out menu.
D: And for the script?
L: There's this instant philosophic dialogue generator I found on the internet...see, you plug in a few basic concepts and it gives you a whole dialogue...
D: It's incomprehensible! That's perfect! The fans won't even notice the difference! Here, use my laptopt to put the images together into something resembling animation, and I'll give the seiyu twenty bucks each if they'll read these lines.
L: Yes, sir!

D'OI. >_< Must watch movies and see scaryscary Rei-Kaoru-Lilith Monster of DOOM and Cheesy Romance. *splee*

But still. Eps 25 and 26 were on serious bad crack. I almost would've preferred a depressing ending. Bah. Happy Shinji disturbs me almost as much as Bubble-Headed Rei.

Watched Spirited Away, as well, to introduce the parents to the wonder that is Miyazaki. *further spleeage* I still love No-Face and the mouse-baby and Haku, who kicks much ass and rocks in all the best ways. Mmm, yummy animation.

And the parents? Still no clue what's going on. Still no clue why my dad left three months ago, no clue why he came back on Monday, no clue at all...and I don't like it, one bit.

*sigh* And when I'm thirty, I'll tell my therapist "No shit, I hate my father. What the fuck am I paying you for, anyway?" Eh, well.

Hakuna Matata, and all that jazz.

Never, ever say that those Jedi mind power things don't work. If you concentrate on something for long enough, it will happen.

Of course, the reason I've just been thinking about this is mostly because I was too afraid to actually do anything about it...and now I'm backed into a corner and have reverted to the practice of not checking my email again.

Wow, I'm pathetic. I think I finally understand the people who thing that a girl can not have any sort of platonic relationship with a guy without there being some aspect of sexual attraction between them. *le sigh* I still disagree, of course, but I can see why some people might think that to be true. Eh, whatever. *kicks world, members of the male persuasion especially*

...also, Mordant's idea of 'walking softly' just means not making as much noise as, say, a herd of elephants being stepped on by a flock of giant rubber duckies. "Quiet" isn't really part of his vocabulary.

...quick, someone give me a stick, I need to bludgeon Fanfiction.net into submission. Give me Eva fics, you little rat bastard!

Wow, I'm still pathetic. I need to get out of the house more.

Went to The Book Shoppe yesterday, the place for all your random book needs (excluding any sort of manga, but including quite a few comic books). Bought Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb, since I've been wanting to read it for quite a while- I mean, pirates! Ships that talk! Sea serpents! Who wouldn't want to read it? Also got A Scattering of Jades by Something Something Irvine. Historical fantasy, from 1835. A little bit earlier than I'd actually been hoping for- I like things from the late 1800's, early twentieth century, ala Mercedes Lackey's Fire Rose and related books. Only I refuse to read anything by her now, so...

Haven't really started either book; Jades incorporates all sorts of Aztec mythos bits into its plot, which means there are words with far too many consonants in proportion to the number of vowels, and a distressing tendency to use the letters 'z' and 'x' in ways the Roman alphabet never intended. After the chapter on Aaron Burr's conspiracy, I put it down and read Ship's prologue- ditzy sea serpents! Much more my style.

Left Only Begotten Daughter at home, of course. I think I'm avoiding it because it frightens me.

Oh! Also bought Death- A User's Guide, because I figured it would make a handy reference.

I often wonder what goes through the heads of cashiers at bookstores when someone like me shows up- I would have gotten Almost Dead Gods, a Rolling Stones biography, had I not been limiting myself by the number of books I could easily carry stacked on one hand. I guess I'm really not that bad, but a girl I knew once went into Barnes & Noble and raided their discount book rack, their fantasy/sci fi racks and most of the rest of the bookstore and walked out with over a hundred dollars worth of discounted books on everything from Star Wars to Tolkien to selected readings by Khaleel Gibrain- which she eventually gave to me and is now sitting under my computer. It's a very large and intimidating book.

Damn. Forgot to buy Abhorsen. Meh. Will have to go after it later.

Must remember to order a copy of Equilibrium from Amazon and have it shipped direct to Kev...a belated birthday gift, of sorts. I'll be going down to see him this coming weekend, and he has promised to help pick out a computer for me. Since dad will be with me, not mom, there will be no problem with just buying the damn thing and sticking it in the trunk of the car- or ordering it and having it shipped back home.

Can't wait to see Kev. *happy days* And his shiny, shiny entertainment system and shinier cable connection, of course. :) Must make it through this week, first. Will work proper work hours all week long- no more 2 hour lunch breaks, no more snarky comments from dad, nothin' but work, work, work, and more work. Fucking zip codes. Think I'll do Maine once I finish with the midwest.

The parents are back from the shortest bike ride ever, and have just discovered that, no, there really isn't any food in the house. Organic peanutbutter most decidedly does not count as food. It disturbs me, however, that a large quantity of the matter in our freezer lies under the descriptive heading of "might be bait".

We have a new motto: No Food, Just Worms.
*ba-dum-ching!*

Thank you, thank you, I'm here until Monday. *bows out*

The bartender was accustomed to strange customers; just last week he'd had a man claiming to be a werewolf, and his girlfriend, an alleged alien abductee. But those sorts of people were certifiable, and not really out of the ordinary in this part of town. You saw a lot of crazies out here in the slums, and it was best to just give them their drinks and keep your mouth shut.

This guy, though, this guy took the cake. Even more than the...person...with one arm and six eyes (three of which were fake, he was sure of it), this guy was just plain strange. Oh, he looked normal, but the normal looking ones were always the worst, no doubt about it. He just sat there at the bar, looking glum. There was no word for it but glum- you look up 'glum' in a dictionary, and you'd see that guy, neatly diagrammed and labelled. He was wearing a black three piece suit- Armani, by the look of it, and the bartender had learned to spot money at thirty paces with unquestionable accuracy. Money, like sane people, was rare around here. But instead of a nice, expensive, tasteful tie to go with his neat, three piece suit, the guy was wearing this bright yellow thing with smiley faces all over it. And sunglasses. The mirror-reflective kind that kept you from seeing the eyes.

He was pretty creepy, actually, but the bartender figured he wouldn't have seemed half as scary if it weren't for that stupid tie. And he just sat there, not drinking anything, looking like someone had just drowned his puppy. Or his sister. The guy's face didn't seem like the type given to many nuances of expression.

"Hey."

He sounded normal, but you never could tell with these people.

"What can I get ya?"

"You got any of that cocktail sauce, the kind with horseradish in it?"

Certifiable, no doubt about it. "Yeah, but you gotta order somethin' with it. And I hafta give it to ya in those little plastic cups, customers ain't allowed t'have bottles."

"Gimme some cocktail shrimp, then, with extra sauce. And a spoon."

The bartender shrugged. He'd been asked for weirder things. At least this was legal, and not too disgusting. There was that one guy who asked for the worms in the tequila bottles- no tequila, just the worms. He paid for 'em, but the bartender had to watch the guy slurp down half a dozen of 'em, right there at the bar. Horseradish sauce was quite tame, comparatively.

The shrimp had seen better days, but they'd been in the freezer so long that anything living in 'em had gone into cryostasis. Happy-Tie didn't look like the type to suffer from food poisoning, anyway; the food wouldn't dare.

The guy picked up the spoon and the little cup of horseradish, still looking glum. "Can I get, say, ten more of these? It's been a long day."

"Sure, man." What the hell. He looked harmless.

--------

Mordant found him at the bar, looking glum, which was odd for Solneki. He usually just looked pissed. Six or seven empty little plastic cups littered the countertop around the blond. He was (glumly) working away at another little cup full of cocktail sauce.

"Man, I thought you were fucking pathetic before, but now you've hit an all time low. Hey, bartender- you got any limes lyin' around, like for tequila?"

"You want the lime, you gotta order the tequila."

"How 'bout I just give you ten bucks, you give me the limes, and I don't fucking blow your head off, huh?" Mordant was a very big fan of the 'walk softly and carry a big gun' mentality. Freud would have said he was compensating for something, carrying a magnum in his pants, but he would've shot Freud's head off, so that was alright. Most things were, to Mordant.

"What are you doing here?" Solneki looked glum, but he sounded pissed, as usual. Mordant grinned.

"Gimme a fork, too." The piece of cutlery hit the bar with a clang and bounced; Mordant caught it neatly by the handle before it stabbed him in the eye. His grin widened as the bartender made himself scarce. "Can't a man get a drink wherever he wants?" He stabbed the lime, squirting a thin stream of caustic juice at Solneki. It spattered across his sunglasses. Solneki reached for another cup of cocktail sauce as Mordant sucked happily on his lime.

"You're not drinking anything. Get out of here."

"What, afraid I'll interfere with your monopoly on the cocktail sauce? Man, I knew you were fucking weird, but this fucking takes the cake."

"Fuck off."

"Bite me."

"Blow me."

"Lick me."

"Eat me."

Their eyes met for a single, tense moment- or rather, Mordant imagined their eyes were meeting, since he'd never actually seen Solneki's eyes.

"You're asking for it."

"Oh, am I?"

In a clatter of cutlery and no small amount of elbow jabbing, he grabbed for Solneki's spoon just as the other man lunged for his fork. In the ensuing struggle, one of the limes rolled off the bar and beneath a table, and a cup of cocktail sauce was lost to the void beneath the bar, where countless beer tabs and dusty peanuts resided.

Solneki glared at Mordant, or rather, he imagined Solneki was glaring, as he viciously stabbed at a lime with his fork. Mordant saluted his sometime friend and sometime partner with the spoon, and helped himself to the cocktail sauce.

A rather glum silence formed between them.

"So," Mordant said after a few moments. "You do this often?"

"Yeah. Still looking for really good cocktail sauce. You?"

"You know how hard it is to find fresh limes in this fucking city?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, yeah."

The settled back into glum silence, lime peels and empty cups of cocktail sauce littered between them.

-------------------------------------

Uh...no, they're actually not gay. I swear. In the alternate universe, where Solneki is an insane, human/plant hybrid scientist and Mordant is a scruffy, world-weary assassin-with-a-heart-of-gold, I'm pretty sure they are, but in this particular universe, where Solneki doesn't take off his sunglasses, not even for sex or sleep, and where Mordant is exactly what his name describes him as, only cruder and with a fouler mouth, the only thing between them is a business partnership of sorts, and they like it that way.

Amazing, for me. *snort*

I dunno. I like these two. They make absolutely no sense, and they have absolutely no plot, but they amuse me.

Whee.

This laptop just started singing at me.

Creepy. Very creepy. The parents are playing golf with Bjarte, and supposedly one of the uncles is coming down here as well...no sign of anyone, though.

Mom bought a case of poland spring. there was much rejoicing.

Watched up to episode 24 of Evangelion/eon/whatever...fell in love with Kaworu, squealed in outrage when Shinji popped his head off like a daisy (and how did I just know that was how he was going to die?), and promptly turned off the tv, unable to watch anymore.

Shinji takes first place as the Most Abused Character, Ever; I thought I was mean to my people, but at least I give them happy endings eventually. I've heard enough about "The End Of Eva" to suspect that there will be very little happiness going on.

Mixed feelings about the series; it started off too lightheartedly for me to reconcile the way all of the characters are being mindfucked now...and since it didn't start off on a very light note, that says a lot about what the end is like.

Still despise Asuka. Rei is pretty cool, if infinitely creepier than I ever thought she could be. Shinji needs a hug very badly, but he went and killed the only person willing to give him one, no strings attatched. Misato makes me sad. Ritsuko makes me angry. Gendo Ikari makes me furious. Who else is there...disappointed by the lack of Toji after episode 19; absolutely loved all the flashback stuff, even if Dr Akagi really was an old hag. I miss Kaji, and his melons. (D'oi.)

Now, of course, I am desperately seeking fanfic that has a happy ending, damnit. Or at least some happy bits. Or, y'know, a moment of happiness. Yeesh.

Of course, it being fourth of July, we were supposed to have a barbecue of some sort. Sun's gone down, no sign of parents...eh, well.

A very uneventful fourth of July. Not like last year. *bitter* I suppose I could stay up until four again, just for the hell of it, but there wouldn't be any point.

I'm not going to think about it. There's no point in being unhappy; I'm just not going to think about it. Maybe I'll go see the fireworks later on. It's been a while since I've seen a good fireworks show...

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

She thought she'd gotten rid of everything, down to the very cutlery he'd eaten with and the chairs he'd sat in. She thought she'd removed every last wisp of his essence from the house, from her life, from the universe itself- but somehow, impossibly, she'd forgotten this.

The old piano stood in the middle of the room, begging for a spotlight. The cracking plastic keys were bared to the air, and she could still hear their music in her head. She could still remember the way he sat and played and coaxed tears from the heart of creation- or forgiveness from the heart of an angel.

He only ever played here, in this little basement room, when they argued. She would wake up in the middle of the night to find herself alone in bed, and she would follow the strains of music, of that song, until she found him. He would play it for her, and sing 'Hallelujah, Hallelujah' for her ears alone, though he pretended, then, to be singing for himself.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

It was like he'd never gone, now. She could still hear his voice, rough with too much emotion, accompanied by a piano badly out of tune. The very walls rang with the memory of music, and she could hear them all too well. He would look up in the middle of the song, and keep playing, keep singing, and she would walk across the room to touch his hair and whisper apologies in countermelody. And he would smile around the words and all would be forgiven. The music swelled and rolled around her, echoing all the things she'd meant to forget.

Maybe I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Halleluja

She found herself at the piano bench again, and could see him, shining and golden and beautiful in her memory, in the music. But instead of tousled gold, her fingers found only emptiness above the piano keys. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, trying to hold back the scream that had been lying in her heart since the day it happened. Music was beyond her, now. Without him, she had only silence within herself. Silence, and the memory of him. She would not scream, though her throat was raw with the need for it. She had no right- all she had was silence, now.

There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

He was gone, but she could still hear his voice in the walls, in the floors, in the very foundation of existence. No matter where she went, he would be there, reminding her of what would never be, ever again. The bed they'd shared had been the first thing to go, followed by the pictures, the instruments, the books, the trinkets and gifts they'd given each other over the years. She slept alone, now, in a cold and barren room, but even that was too much like him to bear. Cold- he had been music and delicious ice to her senses and now even the emptiness reminded her of him. But the piano still played ghostly tunes, and it was all that remained. Her wedding ring had gone to his brother for safekeeping. In a hundred years, or a thousand, or ten thousand, maybe, she would wear it again, in memory. But now- now, all that remained was this piano, and this room, full of his voice.

Her fingers found the keys, but did not play, and silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

The flames licked slowly across the keys, wavering and unsteady beneath her watery gaze. A sob finally escaped- not a scream, but close enough to make the fire leap hungrily across the laminated wood. The piano let out a single, all-encompassing chord as its wires snapped simultaneously, and the music in her head finally stopped. The fire rose up around her, impossibly hot and impossibly hungry, but she ignored it, crying in the silence.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
---------------------
"Hallelujah", Rufus Wainwright
Birds of a Feather: The Sequel

Look, drivel!
Man, that song depresses me to no end. It was on my latest mix CD and nearly made me cry- then it occurred to me how very Opal/Tyler it was, and then, of course, I got a random battle scene image in my head, and people started screaming, and crying- and then I listened to the damn song again and it occurred to me that yes, it really is a very Opal/Tyler song and he would serenade her in the middle of the night to apologize for being an ass at some point, and she would try to wipe any trace of his existence off the face of creation after he died.

So, yeah. Fucking depressing. Not saying that I'll ever take this anywhere, or that I will ever do a songfilk again (they're really annoying, and quite difficult) but the song itself begged for it, and I figured that if I didn't write something soon, I'd never write anything, so, there you go.

Of course, if it were Opal who died, and Tyler who survived, he'd turn the whole of the universe into some sort of shrine to her memory. Or commit suicide, dramatic little bugger.

*sigh* I'd been planning on writing a Boffo drabble, just not this one. Meh. I hate writing angst. And I'm never listening to this song again.

Oh, you're kidding me. The reason everything seemed so sparse and bare is because blogger now no longer seems to work on a 600/800 resolution.

Well, fuck them, anyway. Writing from the shore, on the father's laptop. Still afraid of words.

Finished Very Model of a Man, though. Ending was a little disappointing, a little anticlimactic (hah). Language still very beautiful, plot somewhat lacking.

Still adore Cain, though, even if he was a crackpot in the end. There's not a whole lot of suspense in the book; after all, we all know what's going to happen. It's just a matter of seeing how it happens, and what leads up to it.

But when he shouts at God, "I am my brother's keeper!" it made me want to cry.

Beautiful book.

Suffering from dehydration. Hate being here, because there's no drinkable water that isn't buried in the back of the fridge, gone stale from being there too long. The fridge is full of two year old diet pepsi, though. Caffeine free, no less.

Ancient, caffeine free, diet pepsi tastes vaguely like stale beer, I've discovered. Not that I have more than a passing acquaintence with stale beer, mind you.

On a screen resolution this large, I feel obligated to fill the space with more nonsense than usual. Have felt sick all week. Am now feeling sicker.

And so far, the only thing making Evangelion worth watchin is the almost constant fanservice. (I've just gotten to Asuka, and she makes me want to stab my forehead with a spoon. D'oi.)

At least this keyboard is very nice. Wonder if I'll ever get a new computer, or if they were just saying things to placate me. Not that that takes much.

My parents are out boat shopping, so I'll leave you for the moment with a very heartfelt sentiment:

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?