I went to a Rob Thomas concert at the Beacon Theatre in New York tonight, and I ended up wearing sunglasses to avoid getting a headache. Emma assured me that this was a very tame concert. Now I am super glad I made no real attempt to go to the Dethklok concert, because I probably would have literally died. Because I'm totally lame and can't handle live shows.

Anyway.

First there was crazy fun getting from the Res Miranda performance in Goshen to a whole in the wall bus station in... I don't even know, somewhere in upstate New York I guess... to Port Authority to the subway to the theater. We only got there fifteen minutes late!

And then there was loudness. Not that I was surprised. I did know that. But it was the first time I'd felt my pants vibrating from the loud.

Whenever the lights flashed they drove me nuts, so I ended up spending a good amount of time typing random thoughts into my ipod just to have something else to look at.

( Lol, vibrating pants. And ELECTRIC UKULELE. )


Also. The first time Rob Thomas sat down to play the piano, he pulled his pants up before sitting. Then he conscientiously explained: "I have to pull up my pants, because if I don't Abe takes pictures of my buttcrack and emails them to me and my friends. True story."

I eventually figured out that Abe is the drummer. And I laughed, because... Pickles would do that. I don't know who he would do that to, but he would.

Just putting that out there.

...

IT'S TWO THIRTY AM AND I'M WAITING FOR MY HAIR TO DRY SO I CAN GO TO SLEEP. AHHHHH.

I'm posting this silliness because my day is seriously in need of lulz. (x-posted to i_hates_you.)

Last night, kumquat_chan was trying to get some essays written and asked me, "Why is this so haaaard?" My knee-jerk reaction was, "Because of Skwisgaar and Toki." (This is my catch-all response to just about anything these days.) She replied, "This is true. If they weren't so sexy!"


( ...And then I wrote this. )

I do not approve of having to listen to yelling first thing in my morning. I do not appreciate having to first tell them to for the love of god stop yelling and calm down, and then finally have to yell at them to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I DO NOT like the fact that now I'm all jumpy with adrenaline, can't hold my hands still, can't concentrate on anything -- I'm going to have to take a walk outside to get this out of my system, and I have fucking work to do! It's two hours after I meant to wake up, because last night I was really tired and had a headache and wasn't thinking straight and accidentally set my alarm for 8:30 PM, and I still have five articles that I should read before my group meeting at four. Three of these articles are apparently inaccessible, one because my teachers apparently just forgot to post the link, which is just fanfuckingtastic.

And somehow this is a busy Thursday, which never happens. Emma's getting here around three, half an hour after I get out of my group conference. Then I have to go to my group presentation meeting at four, and from that probably straight to Res Miranda rehearsal which I probably shouldn't skip this week because we have performances on Friday and Saturday.

I CAN'T AFFORD TO WASTE MY TIME BEING JITTERY. THANK GOD RAVEN HAS TURNED IN THE PAPERWORK AND IS INTERVIEWING FOR NEW ROOMS.

And I stood upon the mountain, crying, "Why do we need to know? Why do we always... What good does meaning do, searching for an explanation of the reality of Being? Always struggling either to attach the name 'God' to it or to keep the name 'God' as far away as possible, when all 'God' is is a proper noun... Why do we need to push ourselves to this when Being is Being no matter how we try to define it with our little words?" ...</p>

Philosophy of religious experiences is wearing me out. In other news, Emma is visiting for the weekend starting tomorrow! I gave to show her all the good Charles episodes so I can show her the new episode, so she will understand why I IMed her yelling "CHARLES IS ALIVE!" on Sunday night. (She was confused when I yelled that, because both her uncle and great-grandfather are/were named Charles, and then I was too excited to explain who I meant very well. Lol awkward.) Other things will happen as well: an attempt to make a funfetti birthday cake from scratch, my first concert (Warped doesn't quite count, in my opinion), and my first bar experience. Excitement.

But for now, class.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

Pickles: [makes a face at Charles] What'd you wanna be before you were a lawyer, a couples counselor?
Charles: [very seriously] No, I wanted to be king of the world.
Pickles: ... Really?
Charles: Well, I was five.


I can has me some new personal fanon.

Omg we were sitting in the nice new Hill House lounge, just three of us, yelling and screaming about everything we saw happening on that really nice television and oh my god Toki in a tong and yes.

I don't want to do spoilers and I'm too lazy to do a cut tag, but holy shit. Holy shit. In the last, what, five minutes? Ten? We were holding hands and on the edge of our seats hoping that what we wanted to happen would happen. AND IT DID. I hope I didn't kill anyone's circulation to their fingers.

We went upstairs to my apartment for post-ep celebratory baked apples. (If S/T happens legitimately happens this season, I'm breaking out the mead. Though I will probably do that eventually anyway, because it'd be a shame to never drink that.) While we were standing around in a general atmosphere of YAY, we realized just how squeaky my hallway floor is. Oh wood floors.

I had the part of the floor that sounded like Nathan and Charles' bed while they're getting busy on it, and kumquat_chan had the part of the floor that sounded like Skwisgaar and Toki's bed. Comparing the two is like comparing the heartbeat of a human to that of a mouse.



... Okay, sleep now. I have to wake up at a reasonable hour to prepare for my bi-weekly Star Trek geek out, which I honestly still cannot I get to do for college credit.

Leave me a comment saying "Resistance is Futile." (Do I sense some TNG influence here? I think I do.)

I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can satisfy my curiosity.

Update your journal with the answers to the questions.

Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions.

I tend to suck at asking good questions, but whatever.


The following points of interrogation were provided by romankate. :P

1. You are merrily bicycling along a busy road when you see the Dethklok tour bus has gone off the road and into a pond. Who do you, good samaritan that you are, try to save first and second?

Trick question! I do not know how to ride a bicycle.

By Nathan's logic he and Murderface will be fine because they're fat; they'd probably float. Charles, if he is included in this scenario, is capable of saving himself and probably at least one other person. I would save Toki first, because he's my favorite. Skwisgaar and Pickles would be hard to chose between, but eventually it would come down to which of them would be easier for me to carry -- and that would be Pickles. Skwisgaar may be a skinny bitch but those long limbs would be a bitch to deal with.

2. What book would you choose to give to Aziraphale?

I & Thou, by Martin Buber. He would be able to read it in the original German, of course. We're discussing that book in my philosophy class (Language and Religious Experience) and I'd be interested in hearing an angel's take on it.

3. If you had any advice to writers in the GO fandom, what would it be?

Eh... For the writers who always stick to the Aziraphale-doesn't-know-lust/Crowley-doesn't-know-love formula, shake it up a little. For the writers who make Aziraphale too innocent (by which I mostly mean naieve), stop that. And for the writers who allow Crowley to be sappy (which is different from sentimental, mind), please don't.

4. What are you studying? (I mean officially. Art on sausage_festival doesn't count)

Creative writing. With a lot of history/art history, a smattering of art, and a dash of philosophy for flavor. My school doesn't really have majors.

5. If you had the opportunity, when approached by Douglas Adams' estate, would you finish the unfinished manuscript they just found in his breadbox?

No. I'd love to get it and read it, and daydream about where it might go from there, but actually finishing it would be too much pressure.

I ended up getting more or less the Halloween I wanted after all. Hurray for being able to beg out of things due to cramps! Which were partially fictional (... I originally typed partitionally, which is a different thing), but around six I did sort of feel exhausted. For that I blame the swine flu vaccine.

We ended up staying on campus all day. I made dinner, which my parents liked very much, and we watched American Beauty while I made pie crust. Lamest Halloween activity ever, but I did make a brief appearance at a party. I would have stayed longer, but I was tired and there was nothing I had any particular interest in drinking.

But yes. I spent the whole day in costume. That belt somehow managed to bruise my hips, but it was worth it!

Just a few pictures for now, and more when I get the rest and/or am not too lazy to upload them. ( I was going to borrow a Guitar Hero guitar from a dude, but that didn't work out. )

I mentioned at least three times that I wanted to stay mostly on campus on Saturday, both because of Halloween things that are going on and because I'm worried I might feel crappy from the H1N1 vaccine I got today. And to make the apple pie Mom wants. And also to cook dinner for my parents.

Then my dad voices his assumption that, because we didn't go into the city today, we'll spend most of tomorrow in New York, and then in the next breath tells me that I'm the one in charge of deciding what we're doing.

So you tell me, parents: am I a child or an adult?

Bah.

But no, I really am upset that between my stupid school scheduling parents weekend on the 31st, my parents actually being here, rain, and homework, my Halloween is just going to be another Saturday. Very nearly throwing-things-at-the-wall upset. I got the pants and the belt and the buckle and stopped dying my hair (and tried to get some kind of guitar to carry around for the day, but that looks like it won't be happening), for just another Saturday? Just another fucking Saturday?



I'm going to blast Dethklok to drown out the goddamn Brittany Spears again.



Edit:

The fact that this still has not been discovered makes me feel better.

( Cut for those of you who may not want to see a picture of a condom on a popsicle. )

I've been sitting on this for a little while, but I'm going to post it now because my parent's will be visiting for the next... of gahd, four days, and comments will put me in a better mood and make everything go smoothly.


Title: Takes a Shower, Wash de Shames Offs of Yous
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Skwisgaar/Toki
Words: 4235
Summary: Sequel to Don't Say No, You Can Do's It. Because they can'ts do's it. At least, not indefinitely.
A/N: There's a bit where Skwisgaar slips into Swedish. I ran the English version through an online translator... so it might suck, if you actually know the language. Just saying.


( Takes a Shower, Wash de Shames Offs of Yous )

Pfft, I've been meaning to write an entry about my long weekend adventures for over a week now and have not done so. Lame.

( So here's that. It would be more interesting if my memory didn't suck. )


I have to read a billion pages this weekend. Exactly one billion. While my parents are here. Ffffff.

It's not that I don't like my parents or anything, I just don't have time for them right now. Sarah Lawrence, you schedule parents' weekend like an idiot, what's wrong with you!?

Additionally, all of the water in East Yonkers is broken. I wonder when they'll be done fixing that.

Telling people to to either take shit seriously or make fun of it privately should not make my hands shake. STOP THAT, I NEED TO BE ABLE TO HOLD A GODDAMN PENCIL RIGHT NOW.

It would be fine if it were because I'm angry. That would at least be FAIR.

It's one of those days where I can't tell if sleeping for nine hours left me feeling refreshed or like I've been hit by a bus... Maybe it's that I went to bed with a headache, but had the foresight for once to take two Advil first. And then slept like the dead.

I have to finish this paper by Friday. Not sure when on Friday, so maybe I could send it in at 11:59 pm if I had to, but I'd rather not. Good thing I don't have any classes today. Even if I don't finish it today I'd at least like to be done with this reference book soon, because the author with his behavioral ecologist view seems to be describing the emotions view as simplistic and stupid on purpose and that irks me -- because yeah, failure to differentiate between emotion and feeling, or micro- and macro-expressions, would make that sound retarded. Jerk.

... Give me my nerd badge, I think I deserve it.



And if the Rob Thomas song stuck in my head could kindly make its way to the exit that would be FANTASTIC, thank you. And the Enrique Iglesias song from yesterday, too. Fuck, I've got to stop letting my entire music library play on shuffle.

Can I concentrate on research while listening to Dethklok? LET'S FIND OUT. (This may be a terrible experiment to do right now. Whatever.)

Title: Toki's Worst Fear
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 296
Warnings: Not a happy thing.
Summary: Even Skwisgaar has noticed by now that terrible things happen to everyone Toki loves.
A/N: In a weird way, this is also one of Skwisgaar's worst fears as well. I... kind of feel like a terrible person for doing this to them.


( The doctor was taking his sweet time with the results. )

Eeeeeee, driving up with a group of people to a cabin in the Catskills this afternoon! (Wait, is it up or down? Or left? Or right? I'm pretty sure there's not that much right from Yonkers that leads to wooded areas. GEOGRAPHY. I fail at it. Good thing this isn't a class... just life.)

There's no internet up there, so maybe I'll actually get work done. And hopefully finish that fic. But my research paper definitely takes priority over that, so maybe not. I have some drabble prompts, though, so whenever I take little breaks (that don't involve drinking -- because, okay, this is a college trip) I'll probably work on those. Goin' to drabbles-workinkgs-on places for minis-vayscations, oh yeah.

James has teased me that they're going to get me so drunk that my eyeballs fall out. My response was, "Noooooooooooooooooooooo!" I'm quite content with the one time I have been actually drunk and spent a while trying to explain to Annalise that the wall kept moving but not moving anywhere and insisting, when she tried to figure out what I was saying, that she wasn't listening right. I'm content with that because I wasn't actually drunk enough to be hungover later, and hangovers are something that I would prefer never to have to experience... or at least not any serious way. I have it on good authority that they suck.

They probably won't get me that drunk. I generally gravitate around tipsy anyway. But, if my parents' college drinking stories are any judge, I bet my mom and dad kind of expect that I'm going to get hammered. I only just remembered this morning that I should probably let them know I'm not going to be responding to any emails for the next few days. At the very least, my brother will probably call me and ask if there be wild parties, in an attempt to get me back for my posting on his Facebook wall that he should name his first child "Espoo", regardless of gender.

Ho hum. I'm waiting for my laundry to finish so I can pack. I meant to do that yesterday, but instead went on an adventure to White Plains (via train, which did not involve nearly as much getting lost as driving there with my mom does) to the Target, where I bought a new winter hat, because I don't know where my old one's gotten to. I LOVE MY NEW WINTER HAT.

Gloves might have been a good idea too, because those are probably hiding somewhere in my room in California as well, but I'm borrowing a pair from Annalise for the weekend so I should be fine. And my mom is going to try and find my gloves to bring when my parents visit for parents' weekend... on Halloween. I will never stop complaining about this. (Well, I will after I graduate. Probably.) Sarah Lawrence, you schedule parents' weekend like an idiot EVERY YEAR.



( On a more introspective note... )



Oh, and for all you strags (non-hitchhikers) out there who question the value of carrying a towel around with me everywhere I go, I'll have you know that yesterday I had to sit on a damn cold concrete bench while waiting for the train. But I put my towel down on it before I sat, and my ass didn't freeze. So there, that's why it's important to always know where your towel is, even if it happens to be covered in bits of fluff from the lining of your slowly disintegrating bag.

YES. I just ordered these on Amazon:


(I had not realized that Skwisgaar's belt buckle was specifically a vampire skull. In light of at least one fic I know of, this amuses me terribly.)

Now all kumquat_chan and I need to do is figure out how the hell not to freeze to death on Halloween, because Dethklok is apparently too metal for coats. Even in Norway. Even in winter in Norway. Even Nathan, who is from Florida. Which is ridiculous. But my point is that I do not own any coats that would be appropriate for this.

...

Skiwsgaar would never forgive me if I wore the sky-blue sweatshirt with rainbow letters. (Though Toki would probably never stop laughing. Ever. And put it on the internet.)

...

Maybe I could go around wrapped up in my white furry blanket. Since I have one. But how would I hold the guitar, then? Eh, work in progress.




( And then... there's this. )

Nicked from tinx_r.


Have you ever wanted to ask me a question about one of my fanfics (or fancomics)? Here is your chance to ask me anything you want... What inspired it, what in the world was I was thinking when I wrote it, how do I feel about it now, what do I wish I'd done differently, what would have happened if..., etc. Or you can ask any of the characters from a particular story something you want to know, and get an answer from them.

It can be about absolutely anything in any of my fics (even if it is still a WIP) and I will tell you the answer. Don’t hold back. I won't *g*. Ask about major upcoming plot points if you want to and, whatever you ask, I will answer truthfully.

I will warn you in advance if my answer contains a major spoiler and give you a chance to back out. If you decide that you still want to hear the answer, I'll give it to you. Think carefully before asking a question. You might not want the answer as badly as you think you do. ;)

"Syllogism the second: One, probability is a factor which operates within natural forces. Two, probability is not operating as a factor. Three, we are now within un-, sub-, or supernatural forces.

Discuss.

... Not too heatedly."


Un-, sub-, or supernatural forces conspired to make me take a nap this afternoon. Actually, it's more like the flu shot I got yesterday conspired with my immune system to make my eyes hurt so much that I had to have emergency sleep right away.

Hate naps. I never really wake up from them, so they mess me up for the whole rest of the day.

Ugh.

I want there to be a fic about Toki and Skwisgaar somehow switching bodies. With Toki being all looks at me, I'ms de world's fastest guitarists what ams a huge manslut, nya nya nya and Skwisgaar being all fucks you, I don't wants to be de dumb dildos baby guitarist whats haves stupids face hair! And Skwisgaar kind of freaks out because although he still has mad skills he can't play as well with Toki's fingers, which means that Toki might be better than him in terms of natural talent and is just limited by never practicing and having unhelpful hands. But eventually they'd both just get bored and want their own bodies back... or something... I want to read a fic like that.

Maybe if I want it hard enough it will happen.

I also think there should be a crack drabble or something in which Toki gets out of the hot tub and wrings the water out of his hair and then a masseuse falls out. But that's because I have in-real-life speaking-typos where I say words like masseuse instead of monsoon.

Un-, sub-, or supernatural forces. Seriously. It's a theme.

Okay, now back to the philosophy text that caused me to crash/reboot in the first place. Martin Buber, even translated from German I still don't think you're communicating in anything remotely resembling English. "Genuine contemplation never lasts long... The human being who but now was unique and devoid of qualities, not at hand but only present, not experiencing, only touchable, has again become a He or a She [rather than a You], an aggregate of qualities, a quantum with a shape." That barely makes sense to me, and only that much because I've been working at figuring this out all day.


(... This post contains references to A Bit of Fry & Laurie, Ros & Guil Are Dead, Metalocalypse, my life, and philosophy. What a ridiculous collection.)

I could really go for a back rub right now... Those folding chairs yesterday just killed me.

It would be great if I could stop writing as though my words are saying "and then this happened and then this happened and then this happened," all choppy-like. I'm supposed to be working on writing my paper rather than fanfic anyway, what the hell. Not that that's easier.

Plus there's all this class reading that god only knows when I'll have time for. I've got the senioritis so bad, I don't want to do any of this. It's only first semester. I am so fucked.

Wanna crawl into a hole and take a nap and not deal with it for a little while, but can't.