So I am in New York!

And [ profile] harriet_vane and [ profile] queenitsy are somehow infinitely more wonderful than expected and yet exactly the people I already knew, which is wonderfully comforting. It's always a little weird to meet people with whom you have discussed corsetry and swan costumes and be all, "Hi, let me sleep on your couch and leave me alone in your house with your innocent cat", but basically last night was just like Gchatting with Rachel while watching BGJW, only now she knows what my CAPSLOCK sounds like. *G* And I did not know [ profile] queenitsy as well before now, but she showed me Big Time Rush and then we sat around for two hours exchanging Fandom Horror Stories, and it is just possible I am in love and wish to never go home again. (BIG TIME RUSH, y'all! The little sister is my favorite little sister EVER! Also it is a live-action cartoon!) I also met [ profile] danacias who is charming, charming, charming.

The Lilycat seems to have accepted me and has claimed my suitcase as her sleeping nest, so that is good, too.

And I got to talk to [ profile] adalanne! And we made plans for her to meet my friends on Friday and then me to meet her friends on Saturday. It is almost like we are grownups who still love our high school friends, or something.

Tonight: GRETA!!! And ADVENTURES WITH PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION THAT RUNS 24 HOURS A DAY! And [ profile] marksykins! I want to live in this city.
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I love kids. I am passionate about children--about their rights. About spending time with them. About understanding them. About helping them become the very best people they can possibly be. I taught preschool for four years, working my way through school, and I'm a nanny now, and I'm in college getting my degree in Child Development just so when I go out and spend the rest of my life working with children, I will know all I can about them. I read parenting magazines for fun.

I love all the children who have been under my care. I have nightmares about bad things happening to them; I missed them when I went on vacation and I miss them now that I can't see them and talk to them. I went to their ballet recitals and their tae kwon do ceremonies. I hugged them every day. I knew the names of their stuffed animals and pets; I knew what they were scared of and I talked them through their fear. I planned parties for them and invested my own money in books for them and spent my nights and weekends making their education better. I still drive two hours down a mountain just to see them anytime I'm asked to babysit, and the money basically pays for my gas. I love my kids.

I don't want my own. I want children to be my career. It's a dealbreaker for me, so far as lifetime relationships are concerned. I have a lot of experience and a lot of observation and a lot of education behind my decision, which was not reached lightly or at any one aha! moment. I believe that everything possible should be done to ensure that children are born only to people who passionately want to be parents for all the right reasons. Obviously, I can't enforce that for the whole entire world, but I can enforce it for me.

I'm so excited for my friends and siblings to have babies that I can hardly stand it; I plan to love them and spoil them rotten and be who they can run away to. I plan to work with kids my whole life and love them all.

I just don't want them to be mine.
Perfection Wasted

And another regrettable thing about death
is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,
which took a whole life to develop and market --
the quips, the witticisms, the slant
adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest
the lip of the stage, their soft faces blanched
in the footlight glow, their laughter close to tears,
their tears confused with their diamond earrings,
their warm pooled breath in and out with your heartbeat,
their response and your performance twinned.
The jokes over the phone. The memories
packed in the rapid-access file. The whole act.
Who will do it again? That's it: no one;
imitators and descendants aren't the same.

John Updike

All of you: I would miss your brand of magic.
I promised I wouldn't tell, but none of you know her, and I have to squee SOMEWHERE.


Fine, nine months is a long time, I don't even care, a BABY. A REAL LIVE BABY. Somebody with dark hair and blue eyes and a fuzzy expression, the child of two of the people I love best in the whole world.


I can help paint the nursery, and buy her clothes, and sing her Bronx's lullaby, and kiss her little toes, and love her lots and lots and lots and lots.

Weight of life trying to crush my skull momentarily lightened by:

1) Last night's Greek. cut for spoilers )

2) Last night's Castle. Cut for spoilers )

3) Twitter spearheading a Hush Sound Revolution.

4) People who use Blue's Clues metaphors on my flist. You know who you are.
Today I am overflowing with love.

I started out the day babysitting two insanely adorable children--they aren't always, but they were today--and then came home. I have just read an insanely awesome fic that makes me want to curl up in it and giggle and feel safe and sweet forever. Brendon just called Ernest a cat, specifically because he loves me. And [ profile] harriet_vane and [ profile] sunsetmog EXIST IN THE WORLD.

I am just happy.
I realise it is selfish of me, but I'm afraid that I can never permit [ profile] harriet_vane to go away again. She is no longer permitted vacations, illness, work busy-ness, or death. I realise she is person-colored and relaxed now, but she will just have to give that up so I have someone to plot in-Hawaii!Brendon/Spencer and cursedbyagypsytobeadog!Jon.

And see? Now that you have heard what we are writing, YOU AGREE WITH ME, DON'T YOU?

Don't be afraid to admit it!

(But frsrs, y'all--I love my [ profile] harriet_vane. I love her loads and missed her lots and I am happy that she had fun and all but...I am SO GLAD she is BACK.)
Random things:

  • You know, Panic has spoiled me for interaction with the WHOLE BAND. I forget that it isn't usual for the guitarist and the bassist to flirt with occasional commentary from the vocalist.

  • [ profile] emilyray has made me crave Singin in the Rain, drat her, and I don't have a copy

  • Castle is AWESOME

  • I got the most fabulous Greta dress--a white eyelet sundress--but...I think I need long hair to pull it off.

  • Nostalgia! I made Chex Muddy Buddies while laundrying and felt nine years old again tossing the bag of powdered sugar

  • I always forget vanilla can go bad and buy too big a bottle *sigh*

  • I want Soccer Roommate to go home for the weekend like Churchy Roommate; I want the house to myself this weekend so I can finish cleaning and do all my papers (OMG ONE WEEK THEN FINALS THEN DONE) with the music up loud and the windows letting in the spring.

  • Tired, but the good tired that means I earned it; I got a lot done today. Tomorrow I'm going to finish my room and at least two papers. The bargain is if I do that I get to order real pizza. I always feel stupid bribing myself, but it seems to work...and if I get all my papers done this weekend then I have TWO WHOLE WEEKS to write the...thirteen thousand words I have left on ETW. *facepalm* I have some really clear ideas, so I still think it's possible, but I don't write them because I HAVE TO GET GOOD GRADES.

  • I love my flist, I don't think I've said that lately.

  • Furthur nostalgia: I have been hunting down the music of my childhood on iTunes, and it suddenly strikes me in a way it never has before that my mother had really eclectic taste. Looking up the songs and "tapes" I remember, they come listed under Folk, Jazz, Musicals, Metal, Religious, Country, and Punk.
Oh, there's nothing halfway
About the Iowa way to treat you,
When we treat you
Which we may not do at all.
There's an Iowa kind of special
Chip-on-the-shoulder attitude.
We've never been without.
That we recall.
We can be cold
As our falling thermometers in December
If you ask about our weather in July.
And we're so by God stubborn
We could stand touchin' noses
For a week at a time
And never see eye-to-eye.

But what the heck, you're welcome,
Join us at the picnic.
You can eat your fill
Of all the food you bring yourself.
You really ought to give Iowa a try.

Provided you are contrary,
We can be cold
As our falling thermometer in December
If you ask about our weather in July.
And we're so by God stubborn
We can stand touchin' noses
For a week at a time
And never see eye-to-eye.
But we'll give you our shirt
And a back to go with it
If your crops should happen to die.


Hooray for IOWA!! I will now perform celebratory backflips and make my baby sister watch The Music Man with me!!
[ profile] harriet_vane is my favourite fellow Brendon-fan in the WORLD right now.

I just thought the world should know that.
I am tired and cranky because I went to the bead fair with my mother today, and in some ways it was AWESOME and I found SO MUCH COOL STUFF that I am going to MAKE, some for me and some for other people and some JUST BECAUSE IT IS PRETTY, but in other ways it was bad. Because it meant I spent four hours in the car, and the three in between standing up or fighting my way through crowds. And the crowds were echoey in the room, and the room was big and filled with aisles, and all of those things make the agoraphobia come. No dizziness, but my shoulders tried to climb up my spine again and my whole back/neck/head combo hurt now.

Also, I desperately want to make my hand into a Ryan Ross puppet for [ profile] t_usual_suspect's bandom anthem project, but I have no functioning way to record it.

But I mean, think of it! My hand, painted with eyes framed in blue eyeshadow and a scarf and a newsboy cap and all, singing, "I LOVE THE DRUMMERS" because we all know he does! It would be awesome.

So all of you have to go do things for her video since I can't. Go on!
Today, I skipped my classes.

And I do not regret it even a little bit.

Because today, you see, I began to read the ARC I got of Sarah Rees Brennan's debut novel, The Demon's Lexicon, and my head is whirling.

This book--this book more than lives up to the promise that Sarah has shown in the past. I had high--and I mean high--expectations of this book, and Sarah cleared the bar and to spare.

The language is beautifully crafted, the characters strong in some ways and cracked in others and interesting, and the plot--my god. The plot.

There are still a few flaws, as anybody might expect in a first book, a few things that I probably would have fought her on if I'd been editing it, but it's still so good. I mostly just want to crawl inside her head and camp out there for a week.

This story held me spellbound, and when it was over I felt like the top of my head had been ripped open.

It isn't on the shelves yet, but when it is--buy it, people.

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on them steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

Langston Hughes

I love this poem not just in itself, but because of the memories attached; I was made to memorise it in the seventh grade by one of the awesomest teachers I've ever had in my whole life, this tiny wrinkled white lady with an accent stronger than Klatchian coffee. When I recite it, I sound like her.
Kim Manners, you did amazing work, and were an amazing person.

Rest In Peace.
I am smiling all over my face.



Admittedly, it isn't a commitment to marriage, but it is to everything else.


With all the change he's building
Gonna bring hope to the children
We believe in Barack Obama, yeah

That we can believe in
That we can believe in
That we can believe in

Thank you for my sweet baby llama, anonymous giftor! It is awesome. *G*
So exactly one year ago today, I announced to the world that I knew which one wore flipflops, and therefore I possibly needed to be smacked with a ruler.

As I told [ profile] liketheroad when she did an end-of-the-year meme, every time I did one, all my answers ended up being, "bandom bandom bandom boys bandom friends bandom stories bandom bandom bandom." So I decided to do an end of the year review on my bandomversary instead.

This has been the most...incredible year. I have learned that Zack is my favorite, that Spencer in a beard is the prettiest thing on the earth, that all of My Chem are enormous dorks, that Brendon and cuddles are the surest way to touch my heart. I have learned that I am head-over-heels for Greta Salpeter, and that I love her band's sound.

I have found a muse that makes me want to write and write and writewritewrite--do you know I have posted NINE fics this year, and have fourteen in progress? The year before I posted two.

More--MOST OF ALL--I have found the most incredible friends. I have people whose days I can make brighter with a single LJ comment, and who return the favour. I have people who listen to me cry. I have discovered that one of my favorite people in the whole damn world lives in New Zealand--how would I ever have discovered that if we weren't both fathoms-deep in love with Panic at the Disco? How would I ever have written anything without [ profile] harriet_vane filling my head with bunnies and [ profile] liketheroad squeeing at me until they were all written? All of you have listened to me and laughed with me and squealed with me, and I'm so incredibly touched and honoured and lucky to have you in my life.

So I want to say thanks:

Thanks to Skids, who made me read it.

Thanks to [ profile] emilyray, [ profile] sociofemme, and [ profile] calathea, for loving bandom in public so that I let her make me read it, since I knew they had good taste.

Thanks to all my pre-bandom friends, who didn't hit me with rulers, and who have stuck by me despite my tendency to flail over tiny ridiculous boys.

Thanks to Panic, the Hushies, MCR, FOB, and all the others for existing, for being themselves, for their music and their lives and their ridiculousness.

But most especially, thanks to all of YOU, whom I've met through our mutual insane love of these people, for being awesome friends, and for being yourselves--the girls I've come to love, adore, and positively cherish in this past year.

It's been an incredible trip for that girl a year back eying Ryan's makeup with faint alarm and telling her friend that she was sure these boys were very nice, they just weren't her type. I know she mocked and rolled her eyes and turned up her nose. I'm absolutely positive she never dreamed she'd arrive in a place where she adored this band so much she saw them perform three times in four months.

Thank god for awesome fic, that made her change her mind. Thank god for ridiculous boys, who made her fall for them. Thank god for the world's most amazing friends, who welcomed her right on in.

Thank god for bandom. It's been an awesome year.
This morning, I was greeted by two messages.

One was a hastily tapped out e-mail, just letting me know that [ profile] shihadchick had just remembered that Zack once told her that "Brendon's hips don't lie."

The other was a comment to a sad post from yesterday, in which [ profile] tanisafan sent me thoughts of Brendon tacklehugging people.




April 2017



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