a fool's musings
Fool, said my muse to me,
look in thy heart and write...
Warning: Adult Content
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03.26.03 - 5:40 p.m.
Caesura
I decided to try the Wednesday 100 because of something Corinna said.
But I'm 17 13 words over.
Grr...
The premise: A man is sitting on the stairs. There's something in his hands that holds his attention. A woman comes up from behind and sits down with him. Someone is headed in their direction, but hasn't been spotted.
The drabble:
Caesura
His breath comes in wheezes. He stops, sits on the steps.
He stares at the ring; the kryptonite sparkles even in the dim light of the stairwell, otherworldly in its beauty. It was supposed to protect him from his enemy, not kill him slowly from the inside out.
A soft breeze wafts over him, and he turns, irritated at the intrusion. A young woman with wild, dark hair sits on the step above. The silver ankh around her neck gleams dully.
“It’s time, Lex.”
“He’ll be here,” Lex insists.
“Yes... He’ll be too late.”
She holds out her hand. Lex takes it, and finds he doesn’t need to breathe at all.
***
If you can cut 13 words out of it, you're my new editor.
Going home now.
~victoria
link
[current mood: wordy]
[current music: Midnight Rider - Allman Brothers]
[random quote: I'm on the outside I'm looking in I can see through you see your true colors 'Cause inside you're ugly, ugly]
~*~
03.26.03 - 11:58 a.m.
Buffy and Homer
I feel like all the interesting stuff is being posted in the LJ lately, just 'cause it's easier for people to comment and well, it's all self- contained over there.
But I love my diary. I don't want to abandon it.
Here are two posts on last night's BtVS episode.
Very spoilery, and well, I wasn't thrilled with the writing, so if you're a Spike-lover or someone who adored the ep, you may wanna give it a pass.
I can't stand it when people are all "Ooh, I loved it and why are you all being so negative!"
Sadly, I turned off the television in disgust and missed the X2 footage everyone is squeeing about.
I'm kind of dreading the sequel. I mean, I knew I'd never see L/R on screen, but everything I'm hearing makes it sound like they're going out of their way to torpedo the L/R relationship, even as friends. And that grates my cheese.
That's probably just shipper paranoia, but even so...
I mean, I love Bobby. Iceman is dang cool. And Rogue/Bobby is sweet as a gateway ship to L/R and H/B (why yes, I do believe that Hank and Bobby are Meant To Be, even as a movieverse fan). It's the Logan/Jean crapple that irks me.
You can't force chemistry, and there was none - NONE - between Famke Janssen and Hugh Jackman.
Speaking of Hugh Jackman, in the five minutes before my hopes were dashed, I found myself imagining him cast as Patroklos alongside Brad Pitt's Achilles.
My god, could you imagine?
::swoon::
Think of the possiblities. Don't forget, aside from Pitt as Achilles (which could be either brilliant or completely wack), Sean Bean as Odysseus (and you know he won't be bad), Orlando Bloom as Paris (he should only do period pieces, where he has to wear costumes. He looks *good* in costumes. In fact, I think he'd be a whole lot more attractive in real life if he found someone with taste to dress him. But I digress.), Eric Bana as Hector (watch - if The Hulk does well, he'll be huge), and in a nod to the salty goodness of earlier generations, Peter O'Toole as Priam.
Now, of course, we have some unknown cast as "Achilles' teenage cousin warrior wannabe" Patroklos.
::gagak::
I won't judge the unknown guy, but that description makes me queasy.
Dude, this is The Iliad. Don't fuck it up, you know? Because it'll probably be another thirty years before it gets made into a movie again. (Well, no, because USA has a Helen of Troy movie coming out next month, don't they? ::snicker:: Hive mind in Hollywood. There's a sociological study for you).
And not just because Achilles/Patroklos is a classic, canonical slash pairing, but because the whole story turns on their relationship.
~victoria
link
[current mood: crabby]
[current music: Solsbury Hill - Peter Gabriel]
[random quote: If you're lonely you get lazy If you're lazy you get lonely They say you only get what you deserve]
~*~
03.25.03 - 4:08 p.m.
it ain't easy being green
So they painted the walls here at BEMC a cream color (they used to be a silvery grey) and recarpeted, replacing the dark green/red with a lighter sage green/yellow/cream pattern, and the moldings are like a green. My new chair is sort of a heathered forest green.
I am wearing a dress today that practically matches the the moldings/carpeting, and, being naturally dark olive-skinned (sallow in the winter), under the fluorescent lighting, I look kinda green myself.
Needless to say, this is in no way flattering.
Sigh.
Yes, I'm in a spammy mood. I finished my remix fic and should be working on Inheritances, or the bathfic, but instead I'm wandering around LJ commenting to people who have no idea who I am, and trying to scrounge up Achilles/Patroclus slash for someone who asked.
New Buffy tonight. Supposed to be good. I hope Faith is on.
~victoria
link
[current mood: green]
[current music: Scenes from an Italian Restaurant - Billy Joel]
[random quote: bottle of red, bottle of white, whatever kind of mood you're in tonight]
~*~
03.25.03 - 11:11 a.m.
unsexy sex
You know, I'm the queen of comfort sex.
I mean, I've got random people having nookie all the time in my stories, simply because of death or near death experiences.
And now, when it comes down to my remix fic, I'm having trouble actually believing in the sex.
Strange, that.
I mean, it's simple enough to rewrite the sex scene as it stands, changing the POV and making it more like something I'd have written in the first place, but this isn't a pairing I'd have ever written about organically, and this is definitely one of my more clinical, not-sexy sex scenes.
Which may be good, considering the thoughts going through Xander's head, when he's thinking at all.
I mean, I can make Draco/Hermione mortal enemy sex erotic (at least, I think it's erotic) and I can contrive a Man/Woman/Elf threeway in the middle of Helm's Deep, but this particular pairing, which *ought* to hit my buttons, just doesn't scan for me.
Interesting.
Sadly, because it's my remix fic, I can't share any of it here until the thing is posted, but yeah.
I guess you learn something new every day. *G*
Oh, my recs philosophy over in the LJ.
~victoria
link
[current mood: thoughtful]
[current music: Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen]
[random quote: That man’s soul has left him, his heart’s as deadly as a rusted nail. That man sheds his skin like a veil]
~*~
03.24.03 - 9:55 p.m.
Elf guys getting it on with human women
My new favorite search: "The Silmarillion Why don't elf guys and human women get it on?"
Hee!
Good question.
Because you'll note - all the Elf/Human pairings we see, iirc, are human male/elf female.
Beren and Luthien, Aragorn and Arwen... and part of me thinks there's a third... Idril and Tuor?
Now, I realize that mere human women can't compete with the Elves in the way of beauty/power/knowledge, but you're telling me not one Elf male ever fell for one anyway?
As a human woman, I gotta say, that just ain't right.
*g*
And I'm doing everything in my power to change that via fanfic with Eowyn and Legolas.
If only I didn't find it so difficult to abandon all canonicity and just go for the porn... I don't even generally like blondes, or effete boys, but the two of them together... mrwowrr...
::thinks::
I've liked Eowyn since I finally got over being jealous of her for ending up with Faramir. So that's at least 15 years. I've always liked Legolas, and after Faramir, he was my primary LotR fantasy object because hey, he ends up allegedly unattached. Or at least attached but in a way that a 15yr old girl can easily ignore if her fantasy life needs it.
I'm strange. I admit this. I have trouble fantasizing about married men, even fictional men. It seems... icky to just kill off the fictional wives, and even worse - highly disrespectful - to ignore/pretend they don't exist for real life wives.
Which is why I fantasize about so few actors/musicians/athletes anymore. I was a wreck the day Adam Graves got married, and what made it worse was that I knew his wife's name, had seen pictures of her; I couldn't pretend she didn't exist so I could have him all to myself.
I think I must be wired weird, because no one else I know has this trouble with fictional characters, but unless I really really dislike the woman, I find it hard to remove her from the picture so I can have the fictional man.
Huh.
Probably more about my psyche than you needed to know.
Anyhow, yes, I say there needs to be lots more Elf male/human woman sex, and that Legolas and Eowyn should lead the way.
~victoria
link
[current mood: amused]
[current music: Rest In Peace - James Marsters]
[random quote: I'm almost out of that Nancy boy hair gel I like so much. Quickly! To the Angelmobile... away!]
~*~
03.24.03 - 10:33 a.m.
Oscar ramblings
By this point, all y'all are probably sick of Oscar ramblings, so I'll just keep it short.
Adrien Brody. My god, what a shocker. I wanted Michael Caine, but I figured Daniel Day-Lewis had it all sewn up. Mom figured Jack was gonna get it.
So both of us were stunned when they announced Adrien Brody.
And what a wonderful speech he gave. He was the highlight of the night, as far as I'm concerned, followed closely by Peter O'Toole.
Peter O'Toole was FABulous as always. God help me, why aren't there more like him around nowadays, him and Sean Connery and Michael Caine and Ian McKellen? Consummate professionals who can do everything and look good doing it.
I was also surprised that they chose Roman Polanski as Best Director. I was almost certain Rob Marshall was going to get it. I knew they weren't going to give it to Scorcese. Not if they hadn't for any of his other (better) films.
I was happy to see Pedro Alomodovar (sp?) win something, and amazed that it was for writing, because, well, it's not in English, you know? But go him.
Next year will be Peter Jackson's year. That's what I've been telling myself since last year. They're not going to give him the award until the trilogy is done. I think, unless something else comes out this year that's utterly breathtaking and spellbinding and amazing, there's no way they can't honor him for the directorial/technical achievements of the trilogy, and I say that without having seen RotK, but certain that it will be a film to be reckoned with *as* a film.
I mean, if James Cameron won for sinking a boat (and goddamn, LA Confidential was *robbed*), then how can PJ NOT win?
Very easily, of course. *g*
But that's my prediction. Next year, he'll win Best Director, and possibly RotK will win Best Picture. I doubt any of the actors will be nommed, but you never know. Aragorn does a whole lot of learning and growing, so I suppose a nomination for Mortensen wouldn't be a shocker, and Frodo has some harrowing stuff yet to undergo, so Wood might have a shot as well.
Don't you love how I can turn *anything* in to a discussion of LotR?
::snicker::
Back to the remix fic! I've actually got half a page now.
Whee!
~victoria
link
[current mood: okay]
[current music: All Apologies + Nirvana]
[random quote: All we know is all we are]
~*~
03.23.03 - 4:03 p.m.
Bath time with Aragorn
No.
This is what I'm doing:
Aragorn sank into the tub, grateful for the opportunity to relax. The journey to Rivendell had been trying, and he still couldn't quite believe Frodo was going to be all right. Though that worry had been lifted from his mind for the moment, he had been swept into the formalities of life in Elrond's house, including a seemingly unending banquet at which representatives of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth all felt the need to give speeches.
He'd snuck out half an hour ago knowing he would not be missed; he was still Strider for the moment, Captain of the Dunedain, and he wanted to keep that cloak of anonymity for as long as possible. He knew come the Council Elrond had planned, he would be unmasked as Isildur's Heir, and he was not looking forward to it.
He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and taking care of four young Hobbits was wearing in the best of times. Being chased by Ringwraiths and carrying the fate of the world on his shoulders was exhausting.
The bathtub was long enough for him to relax in and he was thankful that Elves were tall; he couldn't imagine having to fold himself into a Hobbit-sized bath.
He was close to falling asleep when his skin prickled, as if someone were watching him. Opening his eyes, he found he was correct.
Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood and a companion of his younger days, leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his bare chest.
Aragorn let his eyes slide over the slim figure. Candlelight gilded the Elf, turning his long hair into a river of molten gold, his fair skin into warm honeyed silk. Aragorn blinked, his body responding, believing, though his eyes did not.
"Hail and well-met, Aragorn," Legolas said, a smile curving his lips like a bow.
"Legolas. It's good to see you." He was no longer a young man befuddled by beauty, he told himself.
Legolas pushed off the wall and glided toward him. "You are well?" One slim hand pushed Aragorn's hair off his forehead; callused fingers trailed lightly down his cheek.
"Better now that you're here," Aragorn answered with an honesty that surprised them both.
"These are dark days," Legolas said, slowly trailing his hand across Aragorn's chest. He leaned in close. "It is good to have friends nearby."
"Yes." It was the merest sigh as Legolas closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against Aragorn's lightly before settling into the kiss.
***
I'm still trying to work out the timeine, because meh, in the books, there's time between Frodo's recovery and the Council, iirc, and even PJ mentioned in the commentary that they were going to have some sort of party pre-Council to intro all the new characters.
So I'm figuring this is after Legolas (and Boromir and Gimli) have arrived at Rivendell, but before Aragorn and Boromir meet (in the movie), and so also before Arwen gives Aragorn the Evenstar.
Because as much as I can handwave away objections to L/A based on A's being true to Arwen, I can't really imagine him shagging someone else the same day (or the day after) she tells him she's going to give up immortality for him. And certainly *not* in her father's house.
Dammit, why can't even PWPs be easy? Why do I have to worry about this kind of thing?
And why can't I get back to Xander, like I'm supposed to?
~victoria
link
[current mood: mellow]
[current music: the dog barking]
[random quote: rubber ducky you're the one you make bath time so much fun]
~*~
03.22.03 - 8:55 p.m.
boring Saturday blather
Spent most of the day in the car, sitting in traffic.
Urgh.
Have a terrible headache, possibly as a result.
Pronouns currently missing. Could be back at any time.
Getting new contacts, which will clear up the whole "everything is kinda hazy" thing I've had going on the past few days.
Today I realized I've been going to this optometrist for 20 years.
20 years.
God, that makes me feel old, even though I first started going to him when I was 12.
I remember the day I got my first pair of lenses. Afterward, we went to the mall and my mom allowed me to get my ears pierced with a second hole.
I ended up, many years later, with four holes in my left ear and three in my right (I think I've told the story of the fourth hole, so I won't bore you again).
I was noticing, now that it's spring and the days are lighter longer, how much I enjoy twilight/evening.
It's funny how in winter, it's light, and then, boom! it's dark. There's almost no transition.
I like the long fade into darkness, the way the sun sets and still the light lingers, and you can see the difference between where it's already night and where it's getting there.
Anyhow, since two exits on the LIE are closed in both directions due to construction, there was scads of traffic. The unfun kind, where you sit and stop and start and sit.
We took the sceneic route back, along Northern Boulevard/25A, and ended up stopping in at Dom's, which is good, because they're not coming to Marg's birthday thingy tomorrow, so I wouldn't have gotten to see the kids otherwise.
My mother is not a dropper-inner, while my dad is, so there was much debate over whether we should stop by, seeing as how we were only a block from their house because we took this long, scenic route home (and remember I said I never wanted to live on Long Island? Well, I think I could make a go of it in Cold Spring Harbor.).
Finally my mother gave in, and in we dropped. The kids were all excited. Victor wants to know if I got him his birthday present yet (which reminds me, I need to figure that out). Nicole and Patricia just wanted to be held.
I did buy Anthony V's birthday gift. I am officially the cool aunt, because he wanted 8 Mile and I got him 8 Mile (with his parents' permission of course. My sister is freaking scary. I try not to piss her off too much anymore).
Between that and the Spider-man comics for Victor, my geekiness knows no bounds.
Okay, it knows some bounds.
I refrained, though the temptation was great, from buying Marguerite the FotR SE and a set of the books, because she would have given me the "When do I have time for this?" speech.
I went with the Amazon gift certificate instead. Jean got one also (I'm three weeks late. He'll understand), and that's what Diana's getting as well, I think.
I also have to get a b-day gift for Giovanni, Dot, Meg, my dad... then things slow down a wee bit, until mid-May.
Of course, I have the twins' christening and Mother's Day, so... yeah...
There's a lot of family crap coming up. Luckily, I tend to like my family (or the immediate portions of it, anyway).
~victoria
link
[current mood: headachy]
[current music: Going Through the Motions - SMG]
[random quote: \"Nothing says 'thank you' like dollars in the waistband.\" Xander Harris, BtVS]
~*~
03.21.03 - 2:29 p.m.
sigh
You know, I'm not some scary war-mongering freak, but I find a lot of the handwringing over the start of Operation Shock and Awe (gee, could you have picked a dumber or more arrogant name?) naive at best and disingenuous and smugly self-satisfactory at worst.
I mean, fercryinoutloud, people, it's a WAR.
Did you think we were going there to drop leaflets and daisies?
I agree, it is horrific. And I wish it had never come to this. Hell, I wish they'd done the job right back in 1991, and eliminated Saddam Hussein then. At least this portion of our predicament would be gone (though who knows what kind of freakshow we'd have put in his place).
But this moment was inevitable from the time that first plane hit WTC1 on 9/11.
The Shrub wanted a war and he's got one.
Bad things happen in wars. Shameful things. Horrific things that should never be perpetrated by one human being on another.
A constant litany of how horrified you are by everything becomes wearing, and does nothing but make me think you're being superior in mentioning how you're against the war and how much better you are than anyone who supports it (and I say this as someone who does not support it, nor the actions of our government in getting to this point).
We get it already. You didn't vote for Bush. You don't like him. I didn't and I don't, too.
Get over yourself.
I realize that this may be some people's way of comforting themselves or each other, but it just rubs me the wrong way.
Despite many gloomy predictions, this is not the end of the world. Really, it's not.
It may be the end of life for many people, and the end of a way of life for most Iraqis, but I can't give in to the belief that this is It. The End.
Maybe I'm jaded or self-centered. Maybe I've just learned to stopped worrying and love the bomb. Maybe I'm in denial. Maybe I've learned that there's nothing I can do about situations like these but hope for the best and expect the worst, and that getting my knickers in a twist about it does nothing but make my own life miserable.
I get enough discussion of it in the real world, at work, at home, in emails from friends in the news business.
I'd prefer to keep it out of my fannish pursuits, as much as the resonances sometimes scare me (HP. LotR. Come on. Doesn't anyone else shift uncomfortably every time Boromir gives his speech about the blood of the men of Gondor protecting the rest of the world from Mordor?). I don't want to see real world parallels right now.
So yeah, I'm still skimming the friends page lightly and with no small irritation.
People can post what they want, and I can pick and choose what I read, as I do every day, and I can be irritated.
We now return to your regularly scheduled fannish blatherings.
~victoria
link
[current mood: irritable]
[current music: where the streets have no name - u2]
[random quote: we're being blown by the wind and trampled to dust]
~*~
03.20.03 - 9:57 a.m.
You can't make this stuff up, folks
so I had a dr's appt. tonight. I took car service most of the way, since it's not accessible by subway.
My driver was this curmudgeonly old guy from Dallas, and he was saying how we needed to have some racial profiling going on.
So I said, "Well, I don't know about that. Because when I used to fly regularly, I always got stopped and they would search my bags."
He turned and looked at me and said, "What are you?"
So I said, "Sicilian and Irish."
He nodded. "You have that Mona Lisa face. And also, you're kind of dark-skinned."
Then he said, "Well, if you're innocent, you can prove it in a snap!" and he snapped his fingers. "If they wanted to search me, I'd say, bring it on! I've got nothing to hide!"
Luckily, I managed to distract him and he went on to me all about how Dallas is better than Houston and how he met Hank Aaron in the men's room in the Atlanta airport in 1961.
~victoria
link
[current mood: amused]
[current music: I wanna rock-n-roll all night and party every day]
[random quote: Well I used to be disgusted, now I try to be amused]
~*~
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The painting is "Boreas" by John William Waterhouse. Again, not a muse, but I like her. She suits the color scheme.
The quote is from Sir Philip Sidney.
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