a fool's musings

Boreas by Waterhouse
Fool, said my muse to me,
look in thy heart and write...

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12.08.03 - 9:34 a.m.

Ambitious? Who? Me?

More Consumption went up last night, bringing the total installments posted so far to eight.

You can find them all here.

***

My gold membership is officially lapsed now, so I am no longer able to see the funky search terms you freakish internet denizens use to find this diary.

On some level, I'm very relieved.

On another level, there goes some really good laughs.

***

I'm feeling a little off, writing-wise. I feel like I can't finish anything, all of a sudden. Which is weird, 'cause I've finished a lot of stuff. But not finishing has always been my big failing as a writer, my big fear. Even more than rushing the endings (a symptom, I think, of the "Oh, man, I'll never finish this if I let it go on too long" thing always in the back of my head) or not being able to plot, etc.

Because I *can* plot, when necessary, it's just that the plots I like are very romantic comedy, and not so much "There's a bomb on the bus" or "The President's daughter has been kidnapped" or "We are on a quest to eliminate evil from the world."

But I'm having trouble lately seeing where the story ends, and how to end it. I mean, like the wankfic - Sirius and Remus come to an agreement. The question is, do I wrap it up there, or do I show the sex? And if I do, do I move back to Sirius's POV, which is what feels right to me? Because Sirius is the one with the big doubts/fears etc. Then I've got the fic I want to switch between past and present and I thought I was being clever and writing the parts separately and integrating them was the way to go, but you know I loathe restructuring, so I'm worried now that that won't feel organic. Not to mention that I still can't get over writing the past segment in present tense. Which may just be what I have to do, and italics will have to suffice to signal to the reader that we're suddenly twenty years earlier.

Meh.

I also have the idea for the other structurally "interesting" story, but again, it feels like I'm writing and rewriting the same story, so I need an angle that's more than just "Ooh, different structure."

I mean, I *am* basically writing and rewriting the same story (i.e., the Big Gay Love of Moony and Padfoot), but it needs to be interesting and different each time, and I need to get back to the big epic that covers from the morning after the trick through Lily and James and Sirius and Remus each becoming a couple. Which I don't know if I have the stamina for. Or the plotting inventiveness. I used to be able to do 15000 words on a subject like that. Lately.... not so much.

Let's see, the [HP-only] WIP list...

Off the Wrist

Soothe

BBB!Remus

Dog in the Manger

In Vino Veritas

Something Borrowed

Remember to Breathe

Unconditional (which should have been way easier than it's been but for some reason is stumping me)

The Last Full Measure

Lords of Misrule

Sailing to Byzantium (or Rust Never Sleeps. I haven't decided yet. And how sad is it that I can't write the damned thing, but I'm all fartoyched about the title? This is the Harry-Forever fic)

Dogstar Detective Agency (not the title)

Bad Moon Rising (everyone gets one bad moon pun title - this is the serial killer/They Fight Crime [in the narrative present] fic)

Turn You On (the R/S/Hr fic)

Meet the Parents

Greeneyed Monster (the Draco/Ginny wagerfic)

Hope Abides+Not In Love amalgamation, if I ever get back to that

Late (which I want to spin into the Bellatrix/Remus torture fic)

Through the Looking Glass (Sirius in Sunnydale)

I'm sick just looking at this list.

::shudders::

~victoria



link

[current mood: ]
[current music: ]
[random quote: ]

~*~

12.05.03 - 9:41 a.m.

is it live? or is it memorex?

I had one of those dreams this morning, where you think you're up and getting ready for work, and so when you really do wake up, it's much later than you expected, and you are not, in fact, dressed and ready to go.

I hate that.

It's very unfair.

I mean, I really thought I was up and getting ready.

I was even putting product in my hair, something I rarely do anymore.

I think the tipoff that it was a dream was the fact that I was in my old bedroom in my parents' house- the one I grew up in and haven't lived in since 1994. Yeah, that one.

But I hadn't hit the snooze, or the alarm went off again, or something, because the news was on in the background and I really thought I was awake.

Sadly, I was not.

So yes, big storms today and tomorrow. I must go buy saline and paper towels. *snerk* Oh, and ice cream. The most important staple to have in the house. I can live on microwave popcorn and frozen pizza, if I get *snerk* snowed in, but I must have ice cream.

And the odds of me being snowed in? Are pretty much nil.

That's the joy of living in the city, and I do mean it in the local sense of Manhattan.

I find it interesting that people from the outer boroughs (like me), all grew up referring to Manhattan as "the city", but woe betide anyone who suggested to us (in Bklyn and Queens) that we were from Long Island. Brooklyn and Queens may, in fact, reside on Long Island in the literal, geographical sense, but people who live in Brooklyn or Queens are not from the Island. We're just not.

Everywhere you go, people identify on the basis of exclusion and hierarchy. It's just how we're built, I think. I'm not sure if it makes us herd or pack animals, but it's a definite constant of human behavior.

And that's too much thought for this early.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: Behind Blue Eyes - The Who]
[random quote: If I swallow anything evil put your finger down my throat if I shiver please give me a blanket keep me warm let me wear your coa]

~*~

12.03.03 - 9:18 a.m.

I am the biggest plebe that ever plebed

You know, I don't mind a little chill when it's the holidays, but not even supposed to hit 30 degrees today?

What the fucking fuck?

Oh well, I was once against toasty and warm in my chunky blue turtleneck sweater.

Sweaters = good.

This I believe.

The weird thing about cold weather is that it makes me want cold drinks. It makes my throat all dry and thirsty, and hot drinks just don't cut it.

The only time I have a hot drink is after snow-shovelling, or in the office when it's too freaking cold and I need my hands to warm up, and even *then*, I end up with an ice cube in my hot chocolate.

Hot drinks are for sick people. I mean sick as in physically, flu-ridden. Just to be clear.

***

On the fannish front, Bright Shiny Objects has been updated with a ton of recs in a bunch of fandoms (I was too tired to count last night), and I was recced. Whee! And not by myself. *snicker* And not for one of my usual fandoms, either. Go me! Who knew Mandyfic was the way to go?

It almost inspires me to get out the Dating Plan fic and whip that into shape. Except you know, Josh/Donna, and thus plebian. Of course, I am the biggest plebe that ever plebed, so...

Hopelessly mainstream, remember?

But toasty warm. ;p

And a reminder, most of the fannish action has moved over to the LJ.

~victoria



link

[current mood: amused. also, cold.]
[current music: Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin]
[random quote: shake for me girl, I wanna be your backdoor man...]

~*~

12.02.03 - 9:17 a.m.

tuesday frustrations

Quick site update:

Cast Your Mantle O'er Me and A Slip of the Tongue are both up now.

***

People are incredibly irritating.

There were these two women in the deli this morning, and they just stood in front of the cashier instead of moving out of the way after they'd ordered, so when it was time for me to pay, I had to wait because they wouldn't move out of the way. And then they were ahead of me on the escalator, and they didn't walk, they stood. This is one of those one-person-width escalators, so I couldn't pass them. It's also quite possibly the shortest escalator in existence, not worth riding unless you've got luggage or packages or a tray of drinks that might spill if you walked.

And then they got on the elevator with me. So there went my express ride.

So. Annoying. I realize their purpose was not, in fact, to make me crazy with frustration at their constant presence in that ten minute period of my life, but they certainly fulfilled the requirement.

***

Cold this morning. The weather guy was talking about snow flurries, but it was sunny and clear when I left the house.

Real wintery day. I don't mind this weather so much right now, but come January, I'm heartily sick of it.

I really do need a sugar daddy to take me away from it all.

Sigh.

On the upside, Charlie Brown Christmas tonight.

Best Christmas special ever.

Well, maybe tied with Year Without a Santa Claus.

~victoria



link

[current mood: irritable]
[current music: Hold On Loosely - .38 Special]
[random quote: Hold on loosely but don't let go if you cling too tightly you're gonna lose control]

~*~

11.30.03 - 8:26 p.m.

I triumph over technology, for once

I triumph over technology!

Woo!

Remember the whole thing with the modem drivers and me being too smart for my own good?

Well, tonight, I redownloaded the drivers, set a restore point, and reinstalled the thing and the fucker worked this time.

I think it only worked 'cause my dad was standing here watching, and the laws about these things say they only work when someone else is around to disbelieve your story about how it really wasn't working and it was making that strange whoomping noise, besides.

So I can now connect at a decent speed again, which once more forestalls my foray into cable modemhood, which I desperately want, but really can't quite afford, not with having to buy a router on top of things. On the upside, having both Sal and Anthony being tech guys means they can hook the thing up for me or walk me through it with a minimum of fuss.

This pleases me, because waiting ten minutes for email to download was driving me bugfuck.

I'm not the most patient person, I must admit.

On the other hand, Yahoo still sucks big hairy donkey balls and is only letting select list mail through. I only get mail from three lists these days, so you'd think it'd be hard to screw that up, but no, Yahoo manages. Fuckers.

To end this on a good note, A Slip of the Tongue is finished and posted. Sirius is a daft bastard. Remus accepts that.

*smoochies*

~victoria



link

[current mood: triumphant]
[current music: Cure - Darling Violetta]
[random quote: \"Hey, when was the last time this thing was defrosted? You poor, poor ice cubes. Daddy's here...\" Bobby Drake]

~*~

11.29.03 - 6:25 p.m.

Happy Anniversary to me and my diary!

This is the two year anniversary of this diary.

Wow.

Things have changed a lot, and yet they've hardly changed at all in some ways.

I mean, yes, everyone has moved and lives in nicer places. I have an apartment I adore.

But fannishly... I'm still obsessed, just with different things. Though I tend to attach myself to a specific character type, and I think Remus fits that bill, just as Rogue did. The one who has so little and only wants that one thing -- usually love -- and it looks like they're going to be denied, and at the very last minute, the one they love finally realizes they've been a moron all along and they really do love the person who's loved them for so long.

Yeah, I'm a sap.

Don't tell anybody, all right?

Speaking of which, Cast Your Mantle O'er Me, my entry in this week's HP100 fairytale challenge.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel]
[random quote: I get so tired working so hard for our survival I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive]

~*~

11.28.03 - 10:42 p.m.

Another update

Updated the website, adding Seize the Fish, in which Ron realizes he doesn't want to make the same mistakes Sirius did, and Rounded With a Sleep, a bit of drowsy, Christmas-y R/S porn for Pru, whose birthday is today.

I also finished Slip of the Tongue and sent it off for betaing.

I was productive girl today.

Now I need to get on the stick and get some Christmas shopping done. Aieee...

Oh, and I just want to point out, I have not written hookerfic in HP. Nor had big bathroom revelation scenes.

Aren't y'all proud of me?

~victoria



link

[current mood: productive]
[current music: silence]
[random quote: Never to talk about ourselves is a very noble piece of hypocrisy. ~Nietzsche]

~*~

11.25.03 - 9:14 a.m.

The PHYSICS and LOGISTICS of BAGEL TOASTING

Okay, people need to just not fuck with me today.

It's Tuesday, first of all, which never goes well, and just... gah.

I'm in what may be politely termed A Mood.

The thing is, I *wasn't* in A Mood until I stopped in at my friendly downstairs deli for my usual breakfast of toasted poppyseed bagel with cream cheese and iced coffee, black.

But for some reason, even though I was the only customer in the place when I placed my order, like 8 people (and I'm not exaggerating that number) who came in after me got served before me.

What the FUCK is THAT?

This new guy they've got working the toaster (yeah, he works the toaster) is just a fucking moron. Which maybe I could tell because he's got a job where he, you know, toasts things for a living.

Gah.

I know, I know. Working a deli is *hard* and there are always people shouting at you to do stuff and you have to remember what goes on what (butter? cream cheese? Omigod, lox?), but jesus, it ain't hard to toast a bagel and put a schmear of cream cheese on it. He does it for me five days out of seven, fifty weeks a year. How is it that the poppyseed bagel which was ordered FIRST and should have been in the toaster FIRST manages to not get done until after the toast and the bialy and the everything bagel, all of which were ordered AFTER the poppyseed bagel?

Isn't that, like, defying some LAWS OF PHYSICS or something?

Now, now, I know the explanation is that either the dumbass put the bagel back in the rotater thingy, or he just NEVER QUITE GOT TO IT until after all those other people's orders and my sweet counter man had to remind him, but please, let's not let logic get in the way of my brilliant ranting on the PHYSICS and LOGISTICS of BAGEL TOASTING.

And now I'm just laughing at myself. This is why I rant, this is why I have a diary. This is what lets me laugh at the stupid shit that otherwise makes me want to scream and kill somebody for things not running better. I don't demand that the trains run on time or that my hair always be perfect, but please, isn't there some way someone can make sure my breakfast isn't screwed up and I'm kept waiting ten minutes for it?

I hope that pouring all my bagel angst here will allow me to interact on a polite level with my co-workers now.

*smirk*

In fannish news, I've begun posting Consumption, which some of you may remember reading the beginning of way back when this diary began.

Well, it's not done. It's never gonna be done. So I'm just posting what I have and moving on. Closure, baby. You can't get it in real life, so you may as well get it in fiction.

All the posts related to it are archived here for easy reading.

Cheers. I'm gonna go eat my bagel now.

~victoria



link

[current mood: amused at myself]
[current music: Hey Hey What Can I Do - Led Zeppelin (squee! fave Zep song of all time!)]
[random quote: “If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.” Machiavelli, The Prince]

~*~

11.23.03 - 7:37 p.m.

They call me, "Sir Pimpalot"

Well, after being exiled from the computer for most of the day, I just spent an hour updating the site. Which means new fic to pimp:

Lust for Life features a post-Hogwarts/pre-Azkaban Sirius Black on the prowl in leather pants.

Private Lessons is a squicky fic in which Hermione teaches Professor Lupin some things she believes he ought to have known.

The Fifth Wand is a drabble about Remus getting a wand for the first time, and This Time is a drabble about Sirius getting a new wand after Azkaban.

I also finally remembered to put up Boxing Clever, the 'same dialogue, different emotion' story I wrote using Halrloprillalar's dialogue (I wrote dialogue for her to use in return. I may actually write the story I had in my head when I wrote that dialogue. Hmmm...).

And last, but never ever least, I finally FINALLY managed to produce a SportsNight story, and I really like it. It's called Everybody Wants to Be Someone's Here (from "Here Comes a Regular") and in it, Dana helps Danny figure some things out.

::hearts Danny::

Now I want to dosome writing before Alias comes on, but I don't know if my wrists are up for it. Sigh.

~victoria



link

[current mood: accomplished]
[current music: Here Comes a Regular - Replacements]
[random quote: \"Nobody poor was ever called democratic for marrying someone rich.\" Mr. Fairchild, Sabrina]

~*~

11.20.03 - 9:36 a.m.

elegy for the diary

Sigh.

I'm letting my gold membership here lapse in a few days, so last night I downloaded a copy of everything I've posted here in the last two years. Two years! Can you believe it? (well, not for another week, but close enough for govt work, I say.)

As much as I love my diary, and I do, the real reason I have it - fannish ranting and raving - has been shifted over to LJ. The thing is, I don't plan on this going totally inactive, but I'll probably just be posting here sporadically, so that I can keep it active - there's a lot of essays and stuff I've written that I don't want to lose, you know? I like rereading some of the stuff I thought a year or two ago, and seeing how much I've changed (or haven't).

Once the paid membership lapses, I'll no longer have stats, which hurts, because I get a sick amount of enjoyment out of reading the wacky referrals that bring people here. I mean, I still have my free stats counter, but that only goes back to the last ten visits, so I'll be missing out on all the smurf porn and Simpsons incest fun.

So the content here may devolve further, into random descriptions of my dreams and notices of when I update the site.

Speaking of which, Parallels, in which Sirius explains the jerkitude of fifteen-year-old boys to Hermione, and Younger Than That Now, in which Remus goes with the flow for once, are now up on the site.

I love my boys. Sigh. So beautiful and tragic.

I also updated the Unfit for Society Recs Pages with thirteen new stories in 3 fandoms (well, 3 XMM, 7 HP, and 3 HP/BtVS crossovers). I was very timely this time, as usually I only update the Unfit Recs LJ and then eventually get around to putting them up on the site, but I am committed to finishing this site redesign, and so the recs pages have all been redone in the new style. And eventually, I will go through and weed out dead links etc. That part scares the hell out of me, though, so I'm avoiding it, like the procrastinator I really am.

And my god, could these hiccups get any MORE annoying? Jesus.

Speaking of dreams and dream diaries, yesterday, when I went back to bed after not going to work, I dreamt that I went to McDonald's for the first time in 2 years, and I was like, "It's not terrible to eat it once in a while, right?"

The funny thing is, while I miss the fries, I don't miss anything else.

I ended up in Church's Chicken instead, which is probably not a step up. I took my chicken and sat down in front of a youth center, which had tables and benches and a little garden set up, and ended up getting involved with this old folks playing chess.

I also dreamt I lost a tooth, and not my one remaining baby tooth that the dentist told me would eventually fall out on its own, but an adult tooth just came loose and fell out.

I know losing teeth allegedly means something in dreams, but of course I can't remember what that might be.

Ah well. Time to hold my breath and see if I can't rid myself of these damned hiccups. Grrr...

~victoria



link

[current mood: hiccup-y]
[current music: Proud Mary - CCR]
[random quote: to everything turn, turn turn, there is a season, turn turn turn, and a time to every purpose under heaven]

~*~

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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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