m y a d v i c e t o y o u i s

Okay, after many many many and numerous oaths that I will in fact update (and apologies to rionaleonhart, whom I assured in a fit of good intentions around two months ago that I was totally just about to post), I’m going to do this. This is partly because the guilt about not doing it has been plaguing me eversoslightly (LJ, always with the guilt and lapsed users! It’s like Catholicism, in a way), but mostly because, well, I miss the nerdy coolness of LJ and the outer fringes of fandom in general. Last bastion of vaguely purple R-rated fanfiction about pretty boys in harems, I tell you.

Very little has happened to me in the past, um, six months, apart from the introduction of the new hamster Mog Fyodor, who likes biting people, especially me (but very badly, he hasn’t drawn blood yet), urinating on people, and being practically diurnal. In contrast to the last unfortunate hamstery occupant of his home, who was big boned and NOT FAT AT ALL EVEN VAGUELY, he’s a Russian Dwarf and has been affectionately nicknamed ‘Runt’ by my sister.

As a result of this (and also her love of forcing the unwilling household cat onto a skateboard), she is not allowed near him.

In the past few months, I have also acquired the following: a shelf and a half of classical books which I feel obliged to read and which probably will not get read until maybe next year sometime; a copy of We Love Katamari and damn, is this sort of addiction even legal?; a copy of the Green Wing Series One boxset which I have been watching far too much for my general good health; and a lot of paper with important exam results changing information, which is currently all over my bedroom floor because FILES ARE FOR BORING AND INTIMIDATINGLY ORGANISED PEOPLE, CLEARLY. I have done precisely no work in the grand scheme of things. This scheme also involves the catastrophic failure of all of my exams and my future career as a writer for Mills&Boon. Clearly, it is an excellent scheme, and one which I should undertake to complete ASAP.

NaNoWriMo was a horrible failure after I got nearly 6,000 words on the first day, I’ve written barely anything since then, and I have extensive plans for around ten lengthy fanfics in various fandoms. My suckiness at ever finishing anything will so totally be defeated by my general good intentions.

So. Well. How are you all? I don’t actually know a lot of you very well or at all, my unexplained hiatus having been barely preceded by the various Friending Frenzies, but, well, if I haven’t completely and utterly screwed all that up, and if you weren’t just waiting around so you could tell me to leave you alone forever, it’d be rather nice to get to know you all. I mean, you’re on my flist, and that clearly makes you all cooler than words.

And, well, assuming you haven’t been around a good long while, or you just feel like maybe we don’t know each other anywhere NEAR as well as we should, because I am horrible and terrible and no good at actually making connections, feeling too intimidated to actually talk to most of the cool and fascinating people on my flist apart from occasional comments- please tell me about yourself. Just, you know. I’d like to get to know you all.

(Unless you’re actually just going to defriend me after all that rambling, in which case, well, I never liked you anyway.)

So! I signed up for xylodemon's I Didn't Get To Go To TWH Ficlet-a-thon, and I went away and attempted to write fic for it.

And because I am incompetent and clearly awful at sticking to guidelines, I failed utterly. Many apologies, augustfai, but I didn't actually manage to write what you in fact asked for (Ron/Ginny, "flowers in your hair", Harry finds out). Because, you know, I suck. I ended up writing two ficlets of questionable writing ability, only one of which even vaguely has anything to do with your request, and, well, here they are. (If you want to loudly denounce me to all of LJ, feel free.)


Title: Being First
Author: painted_blind
Characters: Ginny, a little Harry & Tom
Genre: Sort of a character study. Um. Not exactly any genre. Angst, maybe.
Words: 500
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Warnings: None
Summary: Ginny is never ever first place, no matter how hard she keeps running to catch up.

( Read more... )


Title: Untitled
Author: painted_blind
Characters: Ron, Ginny
Genre: Angst-y
Words: 797
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Still not mine
Warnings: Um. Incest?
Summary: Everyone has different ways of coping. Ron pretends it isn't happening and Ginny likes to talk about it. Post-war.

( Read more... )

So, yesterday and Friday I was in Stratford, and it was much fun, even if I did spend the whole time with my ohsoplebeian English class! And we saw 'Comedy of Errors' which was extremely funny (and is in fact one of my favourite Shakespearian comedies), and then we saw 'Sejanus: His Fall' which was bloody and rather cool.

And there are now many photos including me on Myspace, apparently, which scares me not a little, and had I the strength of mind, I would search for them and post them. Except I don't. (which is really a good thing, because I would say something like 'I am the dorky-looking one that none of you would ever want to befriend in normal circumstances', and ALL OF YOU WOULD KNOW EXACTLY WHICH ONE I MEAN.)

Also! NaNoWriMo signups started yesterday! Admittedly the servers are currently broken, and you can't post unless you had an account last year, but whatever. All of you should sign up (when it starts working again, I mean)! Immerse yourselves in the noveling fun and yay!

Okay! Updating! Properly!

1) My sister just went to university this weekend. I have a distinct feeling that I should be more bothered, but really I'm just gleeful at getting to borrow her CDs whenever I like. Her empty room is providing me with all the shamefully bad pop music I need! Britney Spears! Westlife! Steps, even!

Aren't I cool?

2) Flamingoland on Saturday for my friend Jenny's birthday, which involved much squeeing and much talking about breasts, because we are totally cool like that. A Brief Summary Of Important Events:

On the way there...
Jenny's father: *drives exceedingly fast*
Me: *glances at speedometer*
Speedometer: *declares that we are in fact driving at 110mph (approx. 177 kilometers per hour)*
My Easily Ignored Logic: Ohshitohshitohshittooyoungtodie!
Friends: *sit paralyzed in the back*
Me: Wheee!

Friends: *walk far too fast*
Me: Wah! Do not leave me! *attempts to run* I need a better bra!
Friends: *walk even faster, possibly trying to signal to strangers that they Know Me Not*
Me: *runs* Wah! Curses! MY BREASTS ARE COMING OUT OF MY BRA! *gets stared at. a lot*

Friends: *lead me towards harmless-looking ride*
Me: Ooh! Will it be nice and friendly and involve candyfloss?
Friends, clearly being Evil And Conspiring: ...Yes, Bethany.
Me: I like candyfloss!
On the ride...
Me: Wah! There is no candyfloss! This is going upside down!
My Logic: Shitshitshit.
Me: *sees ground below, looking dreadfully fearsome* ...wah.

Rebecca & Gemma: *sing U.G.L.Y a lot. pointing at me. woe. not an accurate measure of my popularity, I hope*

And basically, that was all that happened. Except that I actually said 'wah' a lot more.


3) mogutaga has tagged me with his fearsome tagging power of, you know, doom and whatnot. So!
( 20thingsmemewhycanInotusespaces? )

Gacked from pretty much all of eljay, except the people who don't need compliments because they already have a friend-of list ten times as big as their flist and get lots of shiny compliments all the time. (Which I'm sure must be a very unrewarding life, which I am not jealous of in the slightest.)

One little compliment can make you feel amazing. So give me a compliment, anything in the entire world, even that my shoelaces are pretty. Put this in your journal. And once you get some comments, put that entry in a memory or tag and when you are feeling down, just go to that entry and this will remind how great you are.

(also, novel rewriting VERY temporarily put on hold for planning of new novel. which will be awful and bad, most likely, but very fun to write.)

So! Rewriting (or planning to rewrite) last year's NaNoWriMo attempt. Normally I wouldn't bother rewriting anything so appalling, but it has a character named Theophania.

I mean, Theophania! Just think of it!

Also, you know, various cases of lesbians and incest. (not, however, incestuous lesbian relationships, which is a shame.)

I have a title (taken from one of Petronius' poems, which just goes to show how literate I am, except not, the poem actually being in the appendix of an NC-17 Harry/Draco fic). I have several blank notebooks and a multitude of pens taken from my parents' study, on the basis that they're just earning a living and I am being a novelist and therefore have a greater need of pens.

I have made several attempts to seal myself away from the rest of the world, prophesying Bad Karma And Whatnot for anyone who disturbs me. And still I am uninspired and trying to converse with my pens and various other stationery.

And the view from my window isn't even interesting.

So. Rewriting is woe, even though it's not really 'rewriting' when you're not out of the early planning stages. (and really, can anyone condense incestuous and lesbian relationships into fifteen words? I think not.)

Shall update on this situation when I've figured out how not to sound like I'm writing for Mills & Boon.

(also, it has turned out that we are in fact studying 'Passage to India' in English despite my plebey plebe classmates, which fills me with unholy amounts of glee and is getting no rewriting done whatsoever.)

Okay. Update. Right.

The following is an extremely short summary of the holiday in France, which I really ought to have updated about earlier.

Father: *manages to damage another car before leaving the airport*

Me: I hate France. Did I tell you that? I hate it with a burning fiery passion, which BY THE WAY is very reminiscent of the sun. I hate the sun. The French sun hates me. All French things hate me. This is giving me bad AS French memories. I hate French. I never even asked to come. Ooh, books!

Sister: I think we should all have a happy family holiday and go everywhere together! Every day!
Me: I did not hear that. That is a direct result of me not listening to you. Go away.
Sister: No, really! I have brought a spade! Build a sandcastle with me!

...and that is all I remember. Except the Spanish dancing we were subjected to. And my bright idea of going swimming with socks on.

Also! I did quite well in my AS Levels. Which is cool. And stuff. And totally undeserved. I pity the poor child that got my real grades. I expect her parents are very disappointed in her.

And! Um. School. And stuff. In less than two days. Since I have forgotten everything, I am going to be slaughtered mercilessly by my teachers. (and we are not studying 'Brideshead Revisited' in English, I have learned, which is woeful and downright unfair. and I expect everyone else will be such plebey plebes and decide that E M Forster is too difficult. which is woe.)

And, er. I feel bad about the hurricane, and I think it's awful, but I don't think it would be fair of me to talk at length about that when I constantly ignore and distance myself from the other tragedies in the world. And I don't personally know anyone in New Orleans (in fact, I know very few people in the whole of America, considering).

...my top has pretty pictures on it.

ETA: xpaintedxsoulx, are you okay? You haven't been updating... *frets*

Okay, I suck. Really I do. *looks guiltily at flist* I suck at updating and I suck at commenting on your entries, or even reading them for the past few days, so just generally, I suck. I wave a banner of suckiness, people!

...I don't even like that word. It sounds so Americanised. But it is SO TRUE. Especially because I am going to France in five hours to talk sucky French and be suckily non-cultural and mogutaga I am soso sorry because my Sending Of The Parcel has failed and will have to be postponed till my return because we were having an argument about whether I was allowed to touch my father's Folio books, the answer to which turned out to be no, and I cannot speak French well enough to send a parcel from there! Really, I fail so badly at speaking French.

This is bad. French AS level result in two weeks. I am going to be a dead, dead doornail. Except not a doornail. Perhaps a particularly uncute dormouse?

(Oh, and Mog, I am going to rewrite the dratted thing finally, because I have the perfect last line! I suck horribly at beginnings and middles and plots of any sort, but the last line is ever-so-marvellous and it will be like, astounding. And the people who flick to the back of books first and then don't bother reading it will all rave about it and I will make millions! Yes! *prances*)

...wow. France. I need to pack! *runs around like a headless chicken that is somehow wearing glasses with a pen attached. really. my fashion sense is awful and depraved.*

Also, my literature is being attacked by the boundaritudinousness of my father, who is declaring that I cannot take more than four books, and none of them can be the Complete Works of William Shakespeare, which totally ruins my entire holiday except NOT, I will be all sneaky and take them in my tiny little bag instead! I am brilliant. Except I won't be able to take the Complete Works so I will not be able to read Shakespeare on the beach and look all fantastically Shakespearean-ly elitist. Mourn for me.

Okay, France ho! Bye, all! Will be back, soonish, ish. Ten days!

ETA: Damn self! Why was I not sneaky and foresighting three weeks ago? This is the best opportunity ever to read French books and I will never ever manage it because they are lost to me!

ETA second time: Forgot to mention! Love you all like a crazy thing!

ETA third time, incoherently: Ooh! Does anyone else think there should be a film called 'Shakespeare on the Beach', and that it should not star girls in bikinis but instead be deep and profound and pretentious and like silent German films?

Woe. Smite me, for I am a horrible neglectful LJ friend who has been horribly neglecting all of you, and her flist, except for mogutaga, who is a wonderful person and who needs to learn about the difference between dilemmas and cheesecake.

(It is very important, I assure you.)

Le HP RPG is taking over my soul. This would be better for me if the RPG were actually being alive and moving around somewhat; as it is, I fear for its life and really must apply to some other RPG as well.

As for HBP, well, I did think about making a controversial, exciting post that everyone could talk about. But I don't really have very many controversial, exciting ideas, except to say that I really did like it. Also that means I can avoid les LJ cuts, which is a strangely appealing idea.

I have been falling asleep at inconvenient times. I would try to look all romantic and everything, and call it narcolepsy, but it really is just because I've also been staying awake all night and becoming so strangely immersed into RPGs that I forget who I am, etc. This is probably bad for me, but I really like my Justin.

Untitled
Written for nellie_darlin's Quotation Challenge. R/Hr. Attempts to be slightly amusing. Based on the following quote:
I know I do not love thee! Yet, alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.”
(Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton – I do not love thee)

( ficciness )

I have just spent two days looking around Cambridge, and my verdict is: Cambridge is a nice place!

Trip highlights! *bounces*

Me: *gets room key* *bounces eagerly up to room* *enters room* *has no bed* Mr Nicholasss...
Natalie: This is a sad situation, and I shall revel in your pain! Ahahaha!

Me: I would like to see two men having sex!
Natalie: ...Those images will haunt me forever. Ahahahaha!
Judith: Bethany is a strange person!

Strange Guy With Hat: *follows us. for the entire trip. really*

Me, at lunch with many strangers: Hello! Be my friend!
Other people: Hello!
Me: *has coughing fit, drops everything*
Other people: We know her not!
Me: Iwouldliketokillsomeonenow.

Me: Of course, if Harry and Hermione share a loving kiss and defeat Voldemort with their love, I shall cry.
Judith: Indeed!
Me: I think everyone should have a good old Hogwarts orgy!
Judith: ...Yes.

Mr Nicholas: So you must wander up and down a street shouting 'Rosie' and looking for a short blonde girl!
Me, Radhika and Memuna: *wander up and down a street shouting 'Rosie' and looking for a short blonde girl* *fail*
Me: (to several people, including some that are not blonde and some that are not female) Hello! Is your name Rosie? If not, would you like to change it?
Mr Nicholas: *has been talking to that short blonde girl ALL ALONG*
Me: Ikillyounow.

Neha: You know, Bethany's very morbid, isn't she?
Me: If you say that again I shall talk at length about my great interest in necrophilia.
Natalie: Ahahaha!
Judith: ...

Also, there was much fun and hitting people on the head with prospectuses! And it's a really nice place.

Whee, updateage!

Am looking rather worriedly at train timetables at the moment, as am going to East Anglia on my own tomorrow (to look round the uni, which is my first choice), and I will die. A lot. Or I will at least mess up completely and fail and have my parents saying 'We TOLD you so,' for the next seventy million months, because THEY DO THINGS LIKE THAT.

But I'm also engaged in a rather lovely fantasy of actually Getting The Grades and getting into East Anglia. The basic plot goes like this:

Me: *gets into chosen uni* Yay! Look out, world!
WORLD: What? Where? I see nothing out of the ordinary!
Me: ...Darn. Ah, well! *runs off to do Dirty & Wrong Things with attractive uni girls & boys*

That, I feel, would be a Very Pleasant Outcome.

(Ask not about my random capitalisation, please, or I shall break down and admit that it's all psychological and my psyche is wrong and bad.)

And now I have nothing more to write, except to beg all HP fans to join omg_harrypotter and RP with me because it is Teh Kewlies and I love my Parvati, who is paranoid and a bad artist, and I am sexually obsessed with my slightly gay Justin, who likes pink sparkles and his glittery throne, and dislikes Dean Thomas, and it's all very fun and amusing and... oh, just go read!

Well, life has been spectacularly dull and uncool lately, and I glare fearsomely upon all people who have not been juggling/riding unicycles for my entertainment.

I miss my harem.

Also, I have a Theory. That deserves capitalisation because it is very remarkable in every way.

Proposal: Summer is a Feelgood Time, and bad things happen only in winter

Case in Point: The tsunami

Another Case in Point: Bush was elected and re-elected in the winter

Conclusion: I rule a lot

Clearly, we should create a loop in the time-space continuum and live forever in an eternal summer.

(except not, because then I would die of heat and constant Big Brother, which is being rather dreadful this year- or was until I stopped watching it, anyway. Is it being more interesting? Has the rest of the house resorted to using Maxwell as target practice to relieve their boredom?)

Does anyone know how many spiders tend to survive out of an eggsac thingy? I'm convinced they're infesting my room out of general spite, and to that I say simply 'Bad form and no<3!', because I can pronounce '<3', being special like that.

I have decided that I really quite dislike Ted Hughes. Perhaps it is a result of my sleepiness today when talking about his poetry, but I found it all unspeakably dull. This is dreadful; I hope we don't have to study him next year.

Am wondering how the world would react to me wandering around half-naked for the next two months. This could possibly cause a Great Stir and make me the figurehead leader for a band of revolutionary half-naked people.

And then I would get to give lots of interviews and be bathed in the golden light of notoriety until it got cold again! That would be fun.

On the other hand, I cannot write a single word recently. This is horrible and unfair, and possibly also karma.

My sleeping patterns are scarily messed up. I know this because I went to bed at 7:30 PM yesterday, incredibly tired, and didn't get to sleep until about 2 AM. Clearly, my sordid fantasies are keeping me awake. Begone, sordid fantasies! I may refuse to move tomorrow. A day of learning about 'personal safety' sounds quite dreadful.

A Year Seven called me a 'fat cow' today. I'm tempted to complain about her lack of knowledge- I'm clearly neither overweight (though I still really need to diet a lot) nor of bovine origin. Anyway, I maintain that sixth formers face Great And Horrible Abuse from all sides, and shall use this to back up my article on Why We Should Get Rid Of Everyone Else And Rule The School. (I think it may need a snazzier name, though.) Of course, we might face problems with a lack of minions, but the advantages would outweigh everything.

These bags under my eyes are really getting quite disturbingly noticeable.

Legolas (my hamster) is singularly adorable. And he needs love, which you should all shower him with a lot.

*yawns muchly* I really should indulge my sleep cravings.

...Okay, I really need to be more constant in updates and reading my flist. I blame real life, for being all... evil and disorganised and mean.

Have been attempting to write a Mary Sue fic in response to a challenge, and am having a great deal of fun, even if am also being horribly unproductive. Shall stop talking like Bridget Jones' diary now. Anyway, it's fun and yay and exciting, and you should all look out for Brittney Black when I post her dazzlingly fun story this summer, because you will come to adore her just as much as me (ie. veryverylittle).

Anyway, just because mogutaga tagged me, and I love Mog to itty bitty bits, even if he does do really stupid things like Confess His True Love (which I certainly never did, being sensible and unwilling to face certain rejection):

Top five things I need to do before the end of the year (in no particular order):
1- Stop singing in public
2- Stop signing up for constant writing challenges because if I keep doing this my brain will turn to a lump of soggy mush, mush I tell you, and then I will be dead and whatnot. And also because I really shouldn't be inflicting my writing upon the unsuspecting masses
3- Stop trying to write poetry. Not even if I claim to be inspired by divine muses
4- Stop singing at all (okay, I couldn't think of anything)
5- Sleep?
Now tag 5 people to put this in their LJ and do it too:
Okay, because I don't in fact know five people, being all new and shy (like a new and shy kitten. Think of me as a kitten, then you will like me!), I will just tell my whole marvellous new pretty flist to do it. Should there be some more commas in that sentence? *is puzzled* *is a failure as a grammar nazi*

Anyways, so, back in school today, and trying to persuade English teacher to let us study Brideshead Revisited. I feel that the whole class will adore me if I succeed (or, alternately, they will all hate and abhor it, and I will be an outcast, only less angsty & pretty than the outcasts in most American high school films). But, yay, pretty boys! Gorgeous prose! Teddy bears named Aloysius!

Um. Hi-ness! Yes. *eeps*

...what I mean to say is: "Hello! [insert genius scientific theory/profound philosophical comment here] I will now display to you all my brilliance and wit. *Does So*" And then I would get lots of new and exciting friends!

However, I feel absolutely certain that if I try anything like that, it will come out All Wrong and then I will be exiled, for foreverandaday, and never again will I return to online diary-land. So, um.

Isn't my icon pretty? *admires*

Anyways. My teeth hurt lykewhoa, and the Paracetamol doesn't do what it says on the packet. In my next life, I'm going to avoid all braces and whatnot. Nolove, braces! And they keep giving me pink when I ask for blue- a foul crime, I say. Bad form, orthodontist!

I procrastinate too much. I know this because it is the Tuesday of this month's Book in a Week, and I haven't even nearly finished the planning yet.

But at least I have no more exams, and I am now going to do an amusing dance, which will most likely end with my falling over, just to torment all those who still have them, and who mocked me during that hellish week full of exams before half term.

I may be making no sense. That seems very likely to me.

*scuttles away to watch Neighbours, her shameful addiction*

ETA: Curses. Boyd didn't die painfully. Ah well, I guess they have to save something for next episode!