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anotherusedpageSigh. I haven't updated this thing in a while. I dunno why. I've been doing (remotely) interesting things, and I've had free time, but I just haven't managed to post anything. I have been reading everybody's posts, but I haven't been commenting much.
So. Since I last properly updated I've seen:
Firefly, which is the coolest thing ever and sooo should not have been cancelled. I've also been reading slash, for almost every possible couple going, with the single exception that I couldn't slash Wash. He's straight. And in love with his girlfriend. Enough so that the idea of writing or reading slash involving him just feels wrong. Which is really skillful writing, considering I'm usually prepared to slash anyone with anyone. And considering the actor is Alan Tudyck (sp?), who is an inherently adorably slashy person. I loved the entire universe, and I loved how quickly you cared about the characters so quickly, and I loved the mystery, and the quite how differently-moralled every character was. And Fox are eeeevil. And did I mention how much I love the universe? My OCs have been running amock in it ever since.
Hellboy, which was really good fun. He makes a great anti-hero. There was a dirty great whacking plot hole, involving infinite numbers of hellbeasts, but I could live with that, cos the characters were so cool and the look of the thing was great.
Arsenal vs PSV live. Seeing Arsenal matches at Highbury is a very similar feeling to me to being at a church service. I don't know all the words, and I don't know when to stand up, and there's an undercurrent of... connectedness... which I feel like I'm not part of. People were singing Jose Antonio's name to the tune of La Donna Mobile, which proceeded to go round my head for the entire match, and I felt very... odd, watching the match, and slashing my favourite players, and listening to operah that nobody else could hear. I felt like I was watching from a different universe to everybody else. On the plus side, that was the first time I've seen the A team play live, I've only ever seen early rounds of the FA cup before. And Henry got shirtless. Ok, so we did only win from an own goal of PSVs, and the game only really picked up some pace and excitement after the ninety minutes were up... but we did win.
Howard Shore conduct the LOTR symphony. This was good fun. It's only about the second thing I've seen at the Albert Hall, even though I've been singing there regularly-ish since I was about eleven. Last thing I saw there was the Lifted Veil at the beginning of the summer, andopportunemoment's mother paid for expensive tickets, so we were at the middle in the front. This time we were at the back, at one side. And yeah, the Albert Hall accoustic is as bad for listening in as it is hard work to sing in. Shitely designed concert hall.
Lots of the people at the concert were clearly not regular concert goers, but were LOTR geeks of all descriptions. I noticed a couple of major changes in group behaviour patterns - everyone was dressed up that bit more smartly than usual, as if they didn't want to be shown up. And people showed up really early. Now, people always show up early to queue for Proms, but this was just showing up early for prebooked seats. Also, people clapped between movements - fair enough - but there was a teenager sitting near where we were who was humming along, out of time, and that really did irritate me. She got louder and louder as the concert went on, and, this being the Albert Hall, people might have looked at her, or even said something... but they were too polite.
Uh, I'm trying to remember if there was anything else I meant to post about.
Random angst...
Last night I had just about the worst hit of insomnia I've had since starting uni. I went to bed shortly after midnight, and stared at the ceiling until gone six in the morning. I couldn't move, and I couldn't stop the random thoughts that were going round my head, or the music, which was two bars from a mass I sang on the Eton choral course two years back, which I've barely thought of since.
Today, my dad and my brother have been sniping at each other all day, while I've been trying to keep out of the way and read my chaucer. I also feel... I dunno, slightly strange... that the reason I didn't fast for Yom Kippur this year was because it was a Friday evening and it would have been inconvenient, cos of choir rehearsals. I dunno, I don't believe in my religion, but... it's something I've done almost every year since I was about nine, for secular reasons, because I like the idea of atonement and a fresh start, and a physical reminder of the hardships that people have to undertake... and I like to prove that I can do it, can go those 26 hours without food or water. It's kinda... cleansing.
And it's been two and a bit days sinceopportunemoment left for Carlisle, and three days since I last saw her, and now cottonwoolfairy's gone too, and... I hate the last week of the holiday. I hate being left alone. I have this little knot of panic in the pit of my stomach, and it's not work related - although I haven't done any, and should have done - it's just... I'm a needy cow and even two weeks is a long time.
And I'm going to be meeting up with an old friend from the school I was at when I was 16 next week. Probably Thursday. And it's weird, because I suddenly register that I may be forced to have the coming out conversation with someone who doesn't know at all anything about my sexuality, and where I don't know if she approves or not. This is not something I've had to do yet, really. I mean, I had the 'you do know that me and Rosie are in a long time relationship' with someone at my old choir who was being... unconsciously homophobic. But that's a different thing. Partly cos I was making a point, and partly because I didn't actually care what she thought, I just thought she should think about it. At Oxford, it's only ever come up in contexts where I've been comfortable with it, and anyway, if people you've only known for less than a year object, it doesn't matter so much. Telling my parents was kinda amusing, cos I knew they wouldn't mind, but I'd also kinda assumed they'd already guessed. So, yeah. It's odd, because from my point of view, it's not such a big deal. It's just weird that it's been... nine months since I started going out with Rosie, and at least three years since I started openly identifying as bi, and this is the first time that the potential for The Conversation has come up in the traditional format.
So. Other than that, life is good. I've been writing things - original and LOTR based - and actually getting somewhere with it. I've also been sketching. I have a new bit for my laptop, to fix (or at least make up for) its broken USB port. I also bought pretty things on Wednesday - three tops, a pair of dark red cords, and a new jacket. I also bought a copy of Angels in America which I will finally get to see some time soon. I've been reading my chaucer, like a good girl, and the metaphysical poets - much more fun than the victorians, but not as good as Eliot. Ought to get on with the big scary treatise things - Anatomy of the Melancholy, The Art of Learning (I think), and things. Oh, and Fairy Queene. Which was the World's Most Boring Book and a major plot point in the most recent Jasper Fforde book, which made me snigger and groan both.
Looking forward to getting back to Oxford. Not looking forward to work, or to eight weeks without girlfriend and my London friends...
So. Since I last properly updated I've seen:
Firefly, which is the coolest thing ever and sooo should not have been cancelled. I've also been reading slash, for almost every possible couple going, with the single exception that I couldn't slash Wash. He's straight. And in love with his girlfriend. Enough so that the idea of writing or reading slash involving him just feels wrong. Which is really skillful writing, considering I'm usually prepared to slash anyone with anyone. And considering the actor is Alan Tudyck (sp?), who is an inherently adorably slashy person. I loved the entire universe, and I loved how quickly you cared about the characters so quickly, and I loved the mystery, and the quite how differently-moralled every character was. And Fox are eeeevil. And did I mention how much I love the universe? My OCs have been running amock in it ever since.
Hellboy, which was really good fun. He makes a great anti-hero. There was a dirty great whacking plot hole, involving infinite numbers of hellbeasts, but I could live with that, cos the characters were so cool and the look of the thing was great.
Arsenal vs PSV live. Seeing Arsenal matches at Highbury is a very similar feeling to me to being at a church service. I don't know all the words, and I don't know when to stand up, and there's an undercurrent of... connectedness... which I feel like I'm not part of. People were singing Jose Antonio's name to the tune of La Donna Mobile, which proceeded to go round my head for the entire match, and I felt very... odd, watching the match, and slashing my favourite players, and listening to operah that nobody else could hear. I felt like I was watching from a different universe to everybody else. On the plus side, that was the first time I've seen the A team play live, I've only ever seen early rounds of the FA cup before. And Henry got shirtless. Ok, so we did only win from an own goal of PSVs, and the game only really picked up some pace and excitement after the ninety minutes were up... but we did win.
Howard Shore conduct the LOTR symphony. This was good fun. It's only about the second thing I've seen at the Albert Hall, even though I've been singing there regularly-ish since I was about eleven. Last thing I saw there was the Lifted Veil at the beginning of the summer, and
opportunemoment's mother paid for expensive tickets, so we were at the middle in the front. This time we were at the back, at one side. And yeah, the Albert Hall accoustic is as bad for listening in as it is hard work to sing in. Shitely designed concert hall. Lots of the people at the concert were clearly not regular concert goers, but were LOTR geeks of all descriptions. I noticed a couple of major changes in group behaviour patterns - everyone was dressed up that bit more smartly than usual, as if they didn't want to be shown up. And people showed up really early. Now, people always show up early to queue for Proms, but this was just showing up early for prebooked seats. Also, people clapped between movements - fair enough - but there was a teenager sitting near where we were who was humming along, out of time, and that really did irritate me. She got louder and louder as the concert went on, and, this being the Albert Hall, people might have looked at her, or even said something... but they were too polite.
Uh, I'm trying to remember if there was anything else I meant to post about.
Random angst...
Last night I had just about the worst hit of insomnia I've had since starting uni. I went to bed shortly after midnight, and stared at the ceiling until gone six in the morning. I couldn't move, and I couldn't stop the random thoughts that were going round my head, or the music, which was two bars from a mass I sang on the Eton choral course two years back, which I've barely thought of since.
Today, my dad and my brother have been sniping at each other all day, while I've been trying to keep out of the way and read my chaucer. I also feel... I dunno, slightly strange... that the reason I didn't fast for Yom Kippur this year was because it was a Friday evening and it would have been inconvenient, cos of choir rehearsals. I dunno, I don't believe in my religion, but... it's something I've done almost every year since I was about nine, for secular reasons, because I like the idea of atonement and a fresh start, and a physical reminder of the hardships that people have to undertake... and I like to prove that I can do it, can go those 26 hours without food or water. It's kinda... cleansing.
And it's been two and a bit days since
opportunemoment left for Carlisle, and three days since I last saw her, and now cottonwoolfairy's gone too, and... I hate the last week of the holiday. I hate being left alone. I have this little knot of panic in the pit of my stomach, and it's not work related - although I haven't done any, and should have done - it's just... I'm a needy cow and even two weeks is a long time. And I'm going to be meeting up with an old friend from the school I was at when I was 16 next week. Probably Thursday. And it's weird, because I suddenly register that I may be forced to have the coming out conversation with someone who doesn't know at all anything about my sexuality, and where I don't know if she approves or not. This is not something I've had to do yet, really. I mean, I had the 'you do know that me and Rosie are in a long time relationship' with someone at my old choir who was being... unconsciously homophobic. But that's a different thing. Partly cos I was making a point, and partly because I didn't actually care what she thought, I just thought she should think about it. At Oxford, it's only ever come up in contexts where I've been comfortable with it, and anyway, if people you've only known for less than a year object, it doesn't matter so much. Telling my parents was kinda amusing, cos I knew they wouldn't mind, but I'd also kinda assumed they'd already guessed. So, yeah. It's odd, because from my point of view, it's not such a big deal. It's just weird that it's been... nine months since I started going out with Rosie, and at least three years since I started openly identifying as bi, and this is the first time that the potential for The Conversation has come up in the traditional format.
So. Other than that, life is good. I've been writing things - original and LOTR based - and actually getting somewhere with it. I've also been sketching. I have a new bit for my laptop, to fix (or at least make up for) its broken USB port. I also bought pretty things on Wednesday - three tops, a pair of dark red cords, and a new jacket. I also bought a copy of Angels in America which I will finally get to see some time soon. I've been reading my chaucer, like a good girl, and the metaphysical poets - much more fun than the victorians, but not as good as Eliot. Ought to get on with the big scary treatise things - Anatomy of the Melancholy, The Art of Learning (I think), and things. Oh, and Fairy Queene. Which was the World's Most Boring Book and a major plot point in the most recent Jasper Fforde book, which made me snigger and groan both.
Looking forward to getting back to Oxford. Not looking forward to work, or to eight weeks without girlfriend and my London friends...
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Date: 2004-10-02 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-02 06:23 pm (UTC)I could see the potential for Mal/Wash in War Games, but... God, I could never write it. With the exception of unrequited Mal angst of course... but that's a thought for another day. My biggest slash kick is Jayne/Mal ... that moment at the end of Jaynestown, where Mal just comes and stands next to him and he opens up and almost talks about his feelings... guh... and of course Mal had to have some reason not to kill him at the end of Ariel. Although Mal/Simon I also see, and Jayne/Simon, and Jayne/Mal/Simon of course.... not to mention Inara/Kaylee, if that sort of thing floats your boat.
April 22nd, huh? Gah, that's too long.
Oh, and if you come accross / get the chance to download the extended gag-reel, it's well worth doing. If you can't find it anywhere else, e-mail me your home adress and I'll burn you a copy to CD.
Heh. What was that about rambling?