brandywine28: (Default)
I haven't posted since...March?? How is that possible?

Oh, right. I spent all of April and May trapped in an allergy vortex. A place of phlegm and misery, where time does not exist.

I mean, okay. I know springtime hayfever is not uncommon. But mine is -- special. Yeah, let's go with that. Special. Special like someone strapping a bucket filled with bees to my head, and then rolling me up in a rug also filled with bees and yes, I know this is a terrible, half-assed metaphor, but -- BEES.

That kind of special.

It's always been that way. I end up losing an entire season. It's just...gone. And then the whole experience leaves me angry and disoriented, shuffling around, muttering about, well. Bees. The prettiest zombie at the zombie prom! And I stay that way 'til the weather starts slowly getting hotter and I wake up one random morning yelling, "the beach, the beach! Let's go to the beach!"

Sigh. I really do miss the beach.

Anyway. I've had a few new fic ideas over the last couple of weeks and, amazingly, I was even letting myself get excited about one or two of them, but then --

BUT THEN --

Ugh. I don't know. This morning I had an awful, sinking moment where it occurred to me just how sitcom-y they all are. Just trite and cutesy-pie and -- all of them! And, no. The kinds of plots that can only ever really be resolved by an Olsen twin popping up from behind a piece of furniture and saying, "You got it, dude!" And then -- hearty chuckling and a freeze frame, I guess?

Seriously, there isn't a single one I can't picture ending that way. And it sickens me.

I am thoroughly demoralized.
brandywine28: (Default)
Hugo keeps bringing me mice. So. Many. Mice. Some of which have been a little less than dead. Yay.

Seriously -- six. In the last four days. Six. (And before that? Zero. In the whole time I've lived here. Why is this happening???)

He's as happy as a really smug pig in slop, of course. Creepy lil' predator-muffin. Meanwhile, I'm running out of shoeboxes and my throat is raw from all the screaming.

I'm way too delicate for this shit.
brandywine28: (Default)
Oh my God, a big, heaping pile of thanks to [personal profile] pensnest for the beautiful shawl! For real, I plotzed! What I don't know about knitting could probably fill an encyclopedia -- the thick, old-timey, hardcover kind no one buys anymore -- but even I can tell it's seriously well made, and I wore it out to dinner last night and everyone who saw me made a huge fuss and told me it matches my eyes n' stuff, so. Yes. (The green parts, not the pink parts. I do not have pink eyes. I'm not an animated rodent.)

And best of all, it came on a day I was stuck in a righteous funk, y'know, the kind I like to pretend I never get? Where you're all low and fogged over and you really just NEED something good to happen? One of those.

And then even this morning I guess the ickiness wasn't done with me, 'cos I had the loudest, most obnoxious cab driver try to tell me that Caitlyn Jenner isn't a "real transgender" because she isn't bothering to have "The Surgery", which, vom. And then he went off on the weirdest, most sexual tangent about Melania Trump, and honestly? I think the thing I was maddest about was being put in a position where I had to defend those two lowlifes. I didn't enjoy doing it. But it had to be done. *flips hair badassily*

Anyway.

In conclusion:

Transphobic cab drivers with opinions? Bad. Pen? Good. Very good. (And sweet!)
brandywine28: (Default)
In lighter news, my mother just asked me what a glory hole is. And I told her. Oh, God.

*crawls under a rock*
brandywine28: (Default)
Grief cookies will only take you so far -- no matter how deep into the bag you crawl -- but that's fine, 'cos this weekend ended up having kind of a...shockingly positive slant to it?

I mean --

Half a million fed up people marching on Fifth Avenue! Nazis getting clocked in the face! Songs about Nazis getting clocked in the face! Madonna!

I met a fierce, kickass woman whose entire family was carted off to a Japanese internment camp in the '40s, and a guy dressed up like a literal golden shower. (SO MUCH GOLD GLITTER.)

Humanity is...really something else. I am rejuvenated.

And in that vein, I feel like sharing only uplifting things with the world. Such as this footage of Alan Cumming performing a jazzy cover of Avril Lavigne's 'Complicated' that I just found.

Maybe, just maybe, things have a shot at being okay.
brandywine28: (Default)
True and useful and true. I can attest.

But there was laughter today, too. My mom called at the exact stroke of noon to sing 'Highway to Hell' at me. All of it. The whole song.

She's the best.

And now, Mallomars.

Also

Jan. 11th, 2017 06:14 pm
brandywine28: (Default)
...since not saying something might actually feel weirder than saying something...

I backed up my journal over on DW and I guess I'll be doing the crossposting thing from now on?

But! I'm not leaving LJ -- I'm all spread out here and I hate change. (Hate it so much I'm keeping my same old username, of which I have never been all that fond, so. Yeah. LOTR-ish vagueries 4 LYFE, yo.)

And I'm not running around preaching doomsday, either. This is just...insurance.

But since the deed is done -- what should I do to get started over there? What am I forgetting? I will take literally any and all suggestions, 'cos I don't have a clue what I'm doing.
brandywine28: (squid)
Good news! I didn't spend the entire Christmas weekend crying!

I mean, I did cry this morning -- who didn't? But...at least it wasn't the result of deep-seated Christmas malaise?

It actually ended up being a fun, low key couple of days: pajamas, champagne, and cookies I purchased with MONEY at a BAKERY because I am a LAZY REBEL.

Didn't manage to send out holiday cards -- AGAIN -- and of course I always feel bad accepting any from others when I doubt I'll ever get my act together enough to reciprocate, so I just end up kinda...left out of the whole process. Which sucks.

I guess I fell out of the habit when my grampa died, and I finally cut contact with my mom's awful sisters. And then I was never close with my dad's stepdad and half-brother, not even when he was still alive. I think I've met them...twice? My point being: my Big List O' Blood Relations is -- not that big. Tiny, actually. Miniscule.

But that's a stupid reason! Love has nothing to do with blood! (Unless that's your kink. No judgement.)

I'll do better next year.

Further good news: my Sesa present is adorable and funny, and was clearly written by someone who knows all about my weirdly formative crush on Disney's Aladdin. (The character, but also every character. The whole movie.) Ahem.

It's the only one I've read so far, but I think it bodes well for the rest!
brandywine28: (squid)
I have my weepy Christmases and I have my jolly Christmases. They don't alternate or anything, it's not that exact. In fact, the weepy ones have been known to take me by surprise, and.

Welp. It's eleven pm on December 23rd and I'm sitting here, bawling my eyes out at the most emotionally manipulative thing Disney has ever produced. Surprise?



(Sorry about the vaguely anti-Semitic ickiness in the middle section. I usually fast forward through that shiz. The nuns who used to play this for us during "religion class", however? Did not.)
brandywine28: (ouran hugging)
A very happy birthday to [livejournal.com profile] zebraljb, who is sweet and generous and the kind of person who hates awkward situations so much that she won't tell you you're pronouncing her name wrong 'til, like, THE THIRD TIME YOU'VE HUNG OUT FACE-TO-FACE.

Without you the world wouldn't have Little Mermaid!sync, our fandom's one and only Kevin/Joey crossdressing fic (I checked), or the best fandom portmanteau that has ever portmanteau'd (Andersance Booper 4 lyfe!). We aren't worthy.

(And yeah, you're also clever and fun and a great mom, but honestly -- meh. I chose to highlight your truly important accomplishments. THE FIC. THE FIC ALWAYS WINS.)

*hurls fistfuls of confetti at you*
brandywine28: (squid)
There's nothing quite like skimming over past LJ entries, especially ones where you thought you were being cute and charming, and instead realizing that you are, in fact, a deeply embarrassing person. Self discovery -- yay!

Honestly, I'm tempted to go on a mass deletion spree. I really am. But -- what's the point? That level of corn isn't something I'd ever be able to hide long term. Let the people know, I say! Let them know about the corn! Don't hide your corn under a bushel!
brandywine28: (squid)
Okay, I'm through with dramatics. I've gotten them all out of my system and condensed everything down into a spiky, ever-simmering rage ball. It's painful, but I can totally function this way. For years, if I have to.

In the meantime, I'ma let Ms. Yoko Ono do my primal screaming for me. She's goddamn great at it, after all.

I daresay protesting agrees with me. I may just be one of the few people around who looks ten to fifteen pounds slimmer by police car headlight-light.
brandywine28: (squid)
If none of you have ever ridden in a stone silent subway car at rush hour, I don't recommend it. Eerie as hell.

oceans rise

Nov. 9th, 2016 06:21 am
brandywine28: (squid)
On the bright side...??

Watching Rachel Maddow go off on live TV last night was kind of exhilarating, even if I could only just hear her over my own hellish wailing.

AJ Mclean (and wife) sent out a couple of highly devastated tweets and, as stupid as this sounds, they kinda took a load off my mind. The Littrells are all confirmed Trumpists, and as such, are clearly dead to me, but I didn't wanna have to write off BSB as a whole.

My dearest Mickeym, being far more thoughtful and clear-headed than I, just shared numbers for both Crisis Chat and the USA National Suicide Prevention Hotline, so I thought I'd just direct everyone on over there. I know people are feeling pretty bleak right now.

I love you all. I really do mean that; my flist isn't the longest, but I promise, there's not a single one of you I wouldn't let feel me up behind the gymnasium on prom night. Or any night. *hugs*

...

Nov. 9th, 2016 05:31 am
brandywine28: (squid)
But I'll tell you what I'm already well and truly done with: all this 'moving to Canada' talk. Nope. As if I'm gonna let some carrot-faced horror clown chase me out of MY country.

Also, if every single American with a soul fucking flees, how're we ever gonna fix this damn place? (Oh. Maybe I am entering my 'getting shit done' stage. That's...something.)

Okay. Rant over.

For now.

peligro

Nov. 9th, 2016 05:23 am
brandywine28: (squid)
I'm not laughing. Which would probably be the most obvious statement in the world, if you didn't already know that that's a thing I do when shit gets tense. Funerals, disasters. I laugh. Sometimes hysterically. It's inappropriate, but it's how I deal.

I laughed plenty yesterday, though. My mother wept the whole time she was filling out her ballot and I made fun of her afterwards and then kissed her forehead, and then a couple of older ladies we didn't know locked eyes with us on our way out of the polling place and we all grabbed each other's hands and giggled for a minute and it was such a Moment and -- how was that only eleven hours ago?? HOW?

I don't know what else to say, really. I overestimated my country. I thought we were better than this, and we're not. And it hurts.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Almost everyone I've talked to so far has been really lovely -- fierce and positive and, like, admirably placid, listing all the ways we're gonna get through this and me? Well, my first reaction to that kind of talk has been kind of a sour, ticked-off, eye-rolly-ness, because TRITE. But maybe I'm just jealous that they're already at the 'getting shit done' stage while I'm still at the 'vomiting directly into my bare, cupped hands' stage. They've got their acts together. I do not.
brandywine28: (hunx)
So the murderer on tonight's episode of Dateline -- 'cos crime shows on a Friday night is my life now, apparently -- was named [[SPOILER ALERT]] Lance Kirkpatrick.

(Cue awkward, fangirl-ish giggling. From me, mostly.)

And the guy who narced on him? A ripped, unnecessarily shirtless dude called Brian. Amazing.
brandywine28: (squid)
I am all about The Get Down right now. True, I wasn't around for the seventies, and it's (slowly) edging into autumn, but it's giving me all of the gritty, outer borough, summertime-in-the-city feels. Love.

What's the best way to make it seem like you have news when you really, really don't? Bullet points!!

- I woke up clammy and disgruntled. I know it's still technically summer for another week, but part of me cannot believe it didn't immediately turn all nice and crisp at 12:01 am on September 1st.
- Every year that fails to happen and every year it surprises me.
- I had some errands downtown yesterday, which took me past the WTC site. Walking down that street always puts me in a foul mood. I didn't like it when it was a smoking crater in the ground and I don't like it any better as a tourist trap.
- They're turning my neighborhood Barnes & Noble into a Target and I want to die.
- I got a letter from the V.A. telling me there's another vet out there somewhere -- still living -- with the exact same name as my dad and it's complicating my mother's widows' benefits. So that's...great. Just great. They even sent me copies of the guy's application forms, which -- ????
- I mean, that's gotta be a major fuck-up on their part, no? I now have this man's social security number! I could totally steal his identity...if I were the identity-stealing type.
- My not-father is apparently eight years older than my actual father, has brown eyes instead of blue, and was born in Rhode Island, but other than that I'm gonna go ahead and assume he's a direct carbon copy.
-I shall also assume that if I were to randomly show up on his doorstep with a case of Budweiser and a cassette tape of Clapton's greatest hits, he'd be down to chill for twelve to sixteen hours. Possibly in lounge chairs next to a beautiful lake. And there'd be head pats and validation and stuff. *fantasizes*
- The word 'squee' is being added to Oxford's, and I approve.
- A couple of nights ago I dreamt I was playing Anita in a low budget production of West Side Story and I guess my acting was so bad that there were angry picketers outside the theater screaming that I ought to be shot? I woke up feeling pretty insulted.
- Three days later, I'm still kind of insulted.

Conundrum

Aug. 26th, 2016 08:44 pm
brandywine28: (hunx)
I heard a rumor this morning that Channing Tatum used to date guys before he was married and that he's been very outspoken about this in interviews 'n stuff, and, feeling unusually reasonable today, I wanted to fact check before I busted out the exclamation points -- but! I can't figure out a way to word my Google that doesn't automatically send me to the 8th layer of generic porn hell. "CHANNING TATUM + BISEXUAL + BOYFRIEND" is not cutting it.

Lesson learned: the internet isn't always your friend, kids.
brandywine28: (squid)
Lou Pearlman is dead and I don't really know what to say about it. Lance gave Twitter a polite, mildly-worded piece of his mind, which is giving me mixed feelings because 1. he had absolutely no obligation to take the high road, or even bring it up at all and 2. coming from Lance -- i.e. one of the ones whose mom was always hanging around and who therefore most likely went unfondled -- it's like "whoa, there. Easy for you to say, fella." Y'know?

But I will say: this timeless classic, in which Lou is cast as a vengeful sea witch, is probably the fittingest tribute I can think of.

(What's wrong with me?? Why can I only communicate through fic linkage? Am I just that stunted??

...yes. Yes, is the clear answer. And I should either learn to own it, or get out of the way, I guess.)

ALSO. Apparently Lou grew up in Queens, which I'm pretty sure I already knew, but...but...ew. No. Why.

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