Okay, so sometimes a poem can change your whole life.
Hey, how could nobody tell me that Diana is coming back to White Collar?


Queer COC who is intelligent and snarky and a Trusted Agent BACK ON MY SHOW!!!!

Ah, White Collar. Even at your lamest, I adore you.

(Although not quite as much as Castle. I don't love anything as much as I love Castle right now. It has GOOD PARENTING and MIND READING and PLOTS I CAN SOLVE EARLY AND BE SMUG ABOUT.)

I need icons for my current shows. I have barely ANY.
Gifts between me and my parents are fraught for many reasons; complicated and emotional and probably very boring to all of you out there.

However, I do get one gift a year that is just me: pure self-indulgence. My grandparents write me a check for my birthday, and I give myself permission to buy whatever I want to buy. This has, in the past, included books, fanart, jewelry, and DVD sets, but they were all things that I just wanted, and which were for pure pleasure.

This year, I built a bear.

I still think the franchise idea is cool, if way overpriced, even though it is totally a cliche thing to do now. And I've wanted to make a character bear ever since one of my friends built a Dr. House, but I couldn't think of someone I was interested in investing the money in who would be easily created with their ready-made stuff (after all, it's not like they have SGA uniforms.)

But just recently, I started watching NCIS, and I fell head over tumultuous heels for darling, darling, awesome ABBY, and now I have an Abby of my VERY OWN. She has long dark ears with ponytail holders, and a black shirt with a glittery red design, and a red skirt. My only regret is that she's impossible to tattoo.

She's the perfect size for snuggling, and she's an amazing comfort in this time of stress.

Y'all: it's stupidly incredible how happy I am about this bear.

And then I came home, and in a Pride picspam, I saw this bit of awesomeness:

cut for image )

Yeah, okay, so Dallon is rapidly approaching being my favorite.

I got Talkative to dress up and come down to Provo with me to see the Brobecks perform live.

The Brobecks in concert: Read more... )
Okay, here's the thing: I am stupidly excited about this book. I am worlds and worlds and worlds of excited about this book. And every little milestone you're gonna hear about if you hang around here, because I am EXCITED and I have JOY and I want to SHOUT IT TO THE ROOFTOPS.

SO FAIR WARNING: THERE IS GOING TO BE A LOT OF SQUEE ABOUT THIS BOOK AROUND HERE. Not often, because book-publishing is a slow, slow process, but occasionally. And on those occasions, there will be glory and gloating and capslock, okay?

Today, the cover art for Feed, by Mira Grant, was released. Isn't it awesome?

Here's the thing: of all the books written for adults in the ENTIRE. WORLD. (that I have read, anyway), I have three favorites, for making me laugh, and cry, and love the characters. I love Goldman's The Princess Bride, and Pratchett's Night Watch, and I read them over and over and over.

Feed is the third of them.

I love Shaun and Georgia Mason with an unholy love, and I love their story beyond all limits, and now there's a COVER. Look at it: isn't it awesome?

It's that much closer to a real book. HOW AMAZING IS THAT?
I know this is on your flist ten thousand times.

I don't care EVEN A LITTLE BIT.

(Okay...sorry to the people who neither know nor care who those boys are. But everybody else...I am fully aware you are just glad of the chance to squeal for the ten millionth time.)

ETA: Sorry, y'all, I put the wrong location in the first time
Item: I love my massage therapist--I truly do--he takes me seriously when I say "I have hideous back issues, please fix them." On the other hand, fixing them involves ENORMOUS AMOUNTS OF PAIN. I always want to write S/M fic after a deep-tissue, because it would reassure me that sometimes people hurt you for good reasons.

Item: I always plan to write and do homework when I come down to my parents', and I have no idea why, because CLEARLY, it never happens. Karla is going to get birthday fic in November.

Item: On the other hand, I just mailed somebody's 2008 Chrismakkuh gift. Perhaps Karla will understand that I am a spazz.

Item: Does anybody have any handy-dandy tips for getting red dye out of cloth? There was an unfortunate incident with Crystal Lite and a carpet. Boiling water has done a lot of good but does not appear likely to do any further good. Suggestions? If I add a teaspoon of vinegar to hot cocoa and shake vigorously, will this help?

Item: LEVERAGE. OT33333333333333333333333333!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Although wtf, iTunes, why it took you three days to give me my show, I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THAT.)

Item: The lady who waxed me today was brand-new and apologised after every rip. I kind of wanted to pat her on the head. I've been doing this since I was ten, I promise if the wax was too hot I would say so and that I am prepared for reddened skin.
I would just like to point out that Greta drinks--and I'm quoting, here--"giggle water."

Is it any wonder she's my favorite?
I am so excited to WRITE and I have no time to WRITE and I am bitter, bitter, bitter.

On the other hand: COBRA VIDEO WHICH ROCKS MY WORLD. I have a thing forcut for spoiler )



And SEANAN'S ZOMBIE BOOKS ARE GETTING PUBLISHED. (I am not over that yet. I may not be over that ever. Ten years from now when I run a hand over all three of them on my bookshelf, and stop to re-read that one awesome speech of Georgia's, and look up an hour later to realise I just re-read half the books AGAIN, I will STILL be going OMG THEY ARE PUBLISHED.)

No news of a book coming out has EVER made me more excited. Even the news of ORDER OF THE PHEONIX only made me just AS excited. And I hate zombies. But THESE BOOKS ROCK SO MANY SOCKS, O. M. G. I am so, so, so, so, SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO bouncy and gleeful right now I can hardly sit still!
Is writhing in ecstasy an appropriate response to a lullaby?




Ilu, Pete Wentz, for fulfilling my fondest desires, and I LOVE YOU, Brendon Urie, more than starry nights and caramel ice cream.

*sigh of utter, utter happiness*

ETA: Whoever stole Ryan's phone is clearly trying to kill me, wtf.
At my parents' house for Easter/various extended-fam birthdays, and they STILL. HAVE NOT FIXED. THE FUCKING INTERNET.

I am very, very cranky about it, in case you missed that. This was supposed to be my weekend to relax and reward myself for finishing the Paper of Dooooooom, and work on ETW--which is stored almost entirely on LJ or in GoogleDocs. And I mean, just, in general, flisting, surfing for decent fic, etc. IS MY IDEA OF RELAXING. So, yes. Cranky now.

Also, all of my time was somehow claimed by various members of my family without my input or permission...it's nothing I could really say no to, it's just annoying that I can't.

At the library atm collecting my damn fic material and flisting, though I think I may have missed quite a bit due to skimming. However, whoever posted that pic of Jon and Brendon "on safari" end quote? THANK YOU FOR THAT. I feel sufficiently restored to go on finishing all my mother's heinous errands.

Jon and Brendon, thank you SO MUCH. Just for existing prettily and letting people photograph you at peace. It makes me happy.


Look at the pretty picture!

Oh, Shane, we love you.

ETA: Also, I would like it noted that South African accents are my Kryptonite, and if Spencer Smith comes back with one I cannot be held accountable for the part where I steal my father's credit card, fly to California, and wander the streets of L.A. until I see, pounce on, and ravish said drummer.
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.

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 [livejournal.com 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 [livejournal.com profile] harriet_vane filling my head with bunnies and [livejournal.com 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 [livejournal.com profile] emilyray, [livejournal.com profile] sociofemme, and [livejournal.com 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 [livejournal.com 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 [livejournal.com profile] tanisafan sent me thoughts of Brendon tacklehugging people.

This is mostly aimed at my MCR-knowledgeable friends, but if you are interested in a) music, b) horror movies, or c) unashamed geekery, you'll probably want to take a look.

[livejournal.com profile] seanan_mcguire is close to release on her third album, called Red Roses and Dead Things. It's a themed album, and the theme? Is death, destruction, and maaaaadness. Mwahahahaha.

If I were stranded on a desert island, and I had to choose the work of two artists to listen to and love for the rest of my life, I would pick Seanan without a moment's hesitation. (If it came down between Seanan and the Hushies, I'd probably just kill myself then and there.) She's released two albums already, a live recording called Pretty Little Dead Girl and a studio album called Stars Fall Home, and I listen to them all. the. time. I know every word by heart. The individual numbers are hilarious, or haunting, or lovely, or powerful, or just plain kickass. Sometimes they're ALL FIVE.

Red Roses and Dead Things has the song that first made me love Seanan's lyrics on it (Some Girls), as well as fifteen other marvelous songs. Some of them are sad, some of them are HILARIOUSLY FUNNY, some of them are drop-dead creepy.

If I had the chance to give Gerard or any of his fellow geeky bandmates an album, it would be this one, just because Seanan is exactly their kind of geek.

I'm not, really. Horror isn't my thing at all. But unashamed, able-to-laugh-about-it, passionate geekery is, so I know I'm going to adore this album.

And the music is going to be beautiful, that much I can guarantee.

If you'd like to know more, check out her album page, or this review by her sound engineer.

You want to preorder this, I promise you do. I have four copies of the other albums, and I'm still paranoid that they will sell out and I will lose all my backups and have to cry in the street.



April 2017



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