Exploding Poohsticks

You'll always be the voice of Lord Peter Wimsey to me.

Technically work-safe, but...: the Bryan twins celebrating their AO title

People, I write tree- and tentacle-smut. I like to think that I'm not easily fazed. But to quote the original poster: "I'm all for gay porn, but even I'm blushing." (To which one of her readers responded, "Gay incest porn? You should be blushing.")

(The graph-paper shorts don't help. They're just ugly enough for me to consider slashing them with Rafa's -- ACK. Brain bleach NOW, please?)

Oh, tennis. The sheer amount of nonsense posted about both Andy Murray and Roger Federer over the past week has been through the roof, and the one that has made me laugh the hardest is Barney Ronay's essay in the Guardian, which begins, "Why are we tense about Andy Murray's grand slam? There is an accepted narrative to this: we start from an assumption of lurking emotional frigidity." The whole thing has to be read to be believed (although that's not the phrase juste, because I still can't quite believe what I was reading). (  Smouldering, submerged desires on the verge of coming into alarmingly priapic bloom...you think I'm kidding? )

This morning's church service was on gender - Beyond Male and Female - and the main speaker will be teaching a free three-session course on "Understanding the 'T' in LGBT." The sanctuary was packed - in part because there was a congregational meeting afterwards, but also with a number of visitors from the wider community. Good to see.

I made turkey-and-zucchini fried rice for dinner, and am roasting chicken tenders & onions for weekday noshing. I also have turkey bao, salmon with couscous, and a mess of noodles left over from last week's meals.

Catching some of the Australian Open doubles action on espn360.com. (Sadly, not tonight, as Other Things Need To Get Done, but it's been lovely having the option.) (On the other hand, the dogfight between Kohlmann-Nieminen and Bolelli - Seppi is seriously tempting me. Maybe for the last handful of games... Also, word is that Henri Leconte was imitating Nadal during a Legends match a couple nights ago (after the crowd chant morphed from "C'mon Rafter" to "C'mon Rafa!"). Hee!)

Current Fic of Doom is at 3300 words and about 4.1/7 done. There's a sentence that I've been beached on all day, but I think I'm about to shove past it now.

Jewels and Jill Elmore's The Family Chef, which happened to be on the library New Book shelf when I stopped by to pick up some manga last week. (And have I mentioned lately how cool it is that my library has a decent selection of manga?) Apparently they're celebrity chefs, but what I've read so far is pleasantly down-to-earth and the recipes look very doable. I'll be getting my own copy of this (I'm a messy cook).

Speaking of messy, there are dishes to wash. Onwards!

From Kolya's presser:

I want to keep this level, like PlayStation. Like Del Potro tell me now I am like PlayStation 3 in London. Now I try to come level PlayStation 4, to be faster and faster.

[ETA: There seem to be about four or five variations of this quote going around; FWIW, it doesn't quite match the transcript at the AO site, but captures the gist.]

From Gael Monfils's Twitter: "watching naruto..."

Yes, I nailed that high F. (All three times I was supposed to, too.) Notes about the rest of the service here.

A sign that one has been discussing Roger Federer far too much the past week: the Gmail ad marquee links to a recipe for "Spam Swiss Pie."

Then again, that exho was one of the funniest things I've watched in weeks. I understand that it's archived at espn360 and on YouTube, and if I didn't have two fics still kicking my ass (never mind the perennial List of Doom), I'd be replaying the thing over and over. (Especially since Roger whistling at Rafa's tush is now canon. As is both Nole and Kim Clijsters massaging Rafa's right thigh. You folks who don't follow tennis are missing out. *g*)

Mainly to geri_chan (whose fics make me hungry), marginaliana and valis2 (partners in crime and dining in Chicago) and amanuensis1 (who IIRC is also a Wow Bao fan): I was craving steamed buns last week. I was not in the mood to drive across town. Hence:

( pictures under the cut )

Quoted in my other journal as well, but worth repeating:

It is better to concentrate on what can be done than to despair about what cannot be done.

- Ella Baker, civil rights activist (1903 - 1986)

David Case: After every major disaster, misguided donations actually worsen the suffering. (Via lifehacker, via maribella008.)

On a happier, fandom-related note, the turnout for Hit for Haiti is already looking good (photo was taken c. 9 a.m. Australian time; event's at 2). (And Rafa's mentioning it was Roger's idea twice on his FaceBook wall = Fedal shippers worldwide alight with glee.)

Notes:
• I had no idea that Nashville was in the running as a potential World Cup site. Sweet!
• There be plastinated corpses at a mall a few miles from my house. Coolness…
• Writing: nothing but false starts and I-don't-know-enough-to-continue-these-right-now on the things I'm supposed to be working on. Bah!
• Homemade cinnamon red-bean paste: disgusting-looking, but also tasty and filling
• I am going to nail that damn high F this Sunday

---

So, that "tropes I've written" meme I've seen at Rowan's and schemingreader's?

First reaction: "Mpreg: would my drabbles with Squillows count? No? Hmph."

Second reaction: "Curtain fic: do my drabbles with kitchen sinks and dining-room-table sex count? No? Hmph."

Follow-up reaction: "Self, if you really want to be able to answer 'yes' to all these, you just need to write yourself some new fic. Like, now."

So, here goes:
( starring the Whomping Willow )
;-)

Journalism it ain't, and it shouldn't even be news, but I'm nonetheless tickled by this update on Sprite and Saffron, the koalas who got frisky on-camera last week during an Andy Roddick interview.

Flavia Pennetta beats Sam Stosur 63 61 in spite of landing only 33% of her first serves in the first set. Li Na beats Caroline Wozniacki in spite of 67 UFEs. Ye goddesses and fishes.

On the bright side, Kimiko Date Krumm beat Nadia Petrova 63 57 64. As Doots put it, Petrova got "outplayed, outrun, and out-thought by a 39 year old" (in a sport where the majority of elite players are under 30). Woot!

New poem up at Strange Horizons: By Way of Sorrow

Drinking Kusmi's St. Pétersbourg tea in honor of Kolya's win over Rafa today in the final of the Qatar Open. I caught the last few games of today's match and most of the semifinal against Roger. Kolya's shot placement is a joy to watch, and yesterday his first serve was unreal (100% in the first set).

Brisbane has been amusing me in how it has unfolded exactly according to seeding - top four seeds made SFs, top two seeds made F.

Chennai: Rendy Lu is in a final. In doubles (with Tipsy), admittedly, but still. Yay Rendy!

Not a sentence you see everyday: "The first Kusmi tea store in America has opened in Montreal." Hee!

Went dancing last night at Tribe. Minuses: not a real dance club (apparently the hardcover folk go to Play, which charges $10) and I was ready to go home before the others. Pluses: good people-watching, working up a sweat (especially to "Jai Ho" (Pussycat Dolls version), Lady Gaga, Jay Sean, and a surprising amount of Whitney Houston), more diverse crowd than I'd expected (a half-dozen other Asians, a guy in a yarmulke, full range of body types and (lack of) fashion), and excuse to wear cute shoes.

Writing mojo completely not in the house at the moment (and receiving two sets of rejections this week didn't help); however, I also received a photography acceptance, a thank-you call for a thank-you card (no, I don't expect that level of reciprocation, but it was a custom card I'd created for being treated to a really nice night out, so the extra acknowledgment was nice), and assorted leads for future possibilities, so yay me and onward. (But first, laundry and ironing.) :-)

Due to various quantities of mishegoss in various areas of my life, I'd fully intended to sit out Yuletide this year. Didn't nominate, didn't sign up, didn't even bother reading many of the pinch-hit requests.

Didn't unsubscribe from the list, though. Too much entertainment to be had when I do read the prompts, in part from never having heard of 95% of the fandoms (which are nonetheless snapped up right away by someone else, which seriously, truly makes me marvel at the sheer glorious breadth and abundance of fandom) and in part from sheer voyeuristic curiosity (which characters - especially secondary ones - are compelling enough for fans to plea for more stories? what kinds of stories are being asked for?).

This, of course, is like a sushi junkie sitting in Masu for hours and thinking she'll just drink tea. Final tally: two pinch-hits and two Treats. To wit:

[Haru wo Daiteita] No Life Save When the Swords Clash, for Snapelike [Yuletide letter]. Mochimune/Miysaka, Kikuchi/Onozuka, Sawa/Yukihito, Iwaki/Katou. Probably too much swearing and smooching to be worksafe. 7937 words.

Writing this was a typical Ribbons fest experience in many respects. Day 1: "It's only a 1000 word minimum, so if I get stuck, I'll just write ten drabbles so that S. gets something." Day 2: "WAHHHH!" The fic pretty much ended up eating my head every spare moment and then some for eleven days, took 27+ drafts, and required an all-nighter to finish, but it was also fun as hell. Most important, it made S. laugh, and two other readers enthusiastically rec'd it.

[Dar Williams - "Alleluia"] The Cafeteria's Got Everything, for Wasuremono [letter]. Magenta-haired angel/Narrator. 1888 words.

Pinch-hit #314, posted the afternoon before pinch-hits were due. I claimed it before dinner, worked out the logistics in my head during choir rehearsal, and wrote the whole thing overnight, in-between bouts of wrestling with the Haru fic.

[RPF - 18th/19th-century politics] Every Thing Necessary to Procure, for twtd [letter]. Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens. 342 words.

So, it's around 6 a.m., and I'm thinking of grabbing a couple hours of sleep before starting prep for the birthday dinner I'm hosting that night, but first I need to come down from the high of finishing two stories, and the list of unfilled prompts has gone up, and - What!? Someone else has heard of John Laurens? SOMEONE ASKED FOR JOHN LAURENS FIC FOR YULETIDE???EEEEEEEEE!!!!

(Ultimately, Kevin Conroy is to blame: he played Laurens in a 1980s miniseries about George Washington, and that was enough for me to trawl through dozens of books on the American Revolution, gathering up every shred of info I could on the guy, about whom I wrote one grade-school paper and one not-yet-ready-for-prime-time professional essay. Conroy's current claim to fame is as the voice of the animated Batman, and yes, now I really want a Dark Knight/Founding Fathers crossover in the worst way.)

[Springsteen - "Thunder Road"] In Rags At Their Feet, for strangecobwebs [letter]. Mary and the guy with a guitar. 882 words.

Back in grade school, a friend gave me a cassette with "Thunder Road" on it, and I danced across my bedroom countless times while it played on the boom box. From my window, I could see the huge Pentecostal church at the center of the subdivision. A couple hundred feet to the north, cattle farm. A couple hundred feet north of that, the road to my old school, so narrow and bumpy that riding the bus on it was like an amusement park ride (especially when the janitor subbed for the regular driver, a lady with a foot-high beehive who lived maybe six or eight houses away from mine).

In short, it wasn't New Jersey (although I eventually dated someone from there, whose father's history students included Jon Bon Jovi), but I sure knew "stranded." Boy, did I know "stranded." Another friend told me I had the hugest smile out of everyone in the yearbook graduation group photo. And while all of this is way more background than anyone needs for "In Rags At Their Feet," it wouldn't be a stretch to say the years of feeling stranded has informed a good deal of what I write. And do.

Today's Google logo features an apple falling from a tree, in honor of Sir Isaac Newton's birthday.

[The "Gravity" icon accompanying this post on DW and IJ was made for me by jen_deben several years ago.]

Coincidentally, I spent part of this morning reading aloud another forty-odd pages of Albert Einstein for the Talking Library, and a good deal of it had to do with Einstein's theoretical perception of gravity eventually superseding Newton's.

(Side reminder to self: need to get mitts on the DVD of Einstein and Eddington (narrative liberties notwithstanding), which happens to have Andy Serkis and David Tennant as the two leads, and is directly related to the solar eclipses that dominated a good part of today's recording sessions...)

(ETA: Bah. It's UK-format only. *pouts*)

Salon's takecomments on Rafa Nadal's fashion (non)sense in 2009: "We even liked those riotous neon tennis togs he sported, though they made him seem less the comic superhero Nike intended than an adorably musclebound friend of Hello Kitty."

I'm currently piecing together my art contribution to the Penny Experiment, which is raising food for the hungry. (The fandom connection is that I first heard about the project via Hello Kitty Hell. And, for the record, I think the hair on the Lady Gaga Barbie in the Hello Kitty plushie frock is way too tame. ETA: Whoops, skimming fail: it's based on the real LG wearing a real gown.) The experiment blog has been interesting, in part because it documents the evolution of an art/community project, and in part because there's been postcard art to look at every couple of days or so.

There are also several current opportunities to participate, which I think some of you might find worth your time:

* The Penny for Your Thoughts book project (leaving an almost-blank book in a cafe and hoping it eventually returns to you; book 1 was launched into the wild today)

* printing Internet coupons and mailing them to the organizer so he can make the most out of each shopping trip for food to donate ($.42 for $62.67 in groceries!)

General:

We spent Christmas evening at my parents-in-law's, where the shawl marginaliana had made for me was much admired, and I received the first volume of Love Control from my sibs-in-law, who had sent it in a box with other things for other members of the family. My mother-in-law said, "At first I thought the box was for us, but when I saw that, I figured I'd better look for a note explaining who was getting what."

Started James Turner's Rex Libris: I, Librarian over breakfast. Cover blurb: "The World's Favorite Kick-Ass Sesquepedalian Librarian!" There is an evil mastermind with cat. Evil masterminds with cats = happy Ribbons.

I had no intention of writing a fic yesterday. I blame geri-chan for the bunny-ambush that resulted in Present Understanding (Yoshizumi/Kenzaki, Haru wo Daiteita, PG, ~1025 words).

I made beef bourguignon for my father-in-law's birthday earlier in the week, and "garlicky beef daube" for lunch just now. And the nephews+niece gave the BYM a bag of peppermint chocolate bark. Nom nom nom.

Yuletide:

I'm reading very sporadically, and bookmarking anything over 5K for later (current powers of concentration = nil). With that caveat, the standouts for me so far:

Haru wo Daiteita: Dust to Dust. 3273 words. Iwaki/Katou, with significant Yoshizumi and Mochimune. Make that awesome!Yoshizumi. This fills me with almost more glee than I know what to do with.

FAKE: Things Moving and Known. 2404 words. Dee/Ryo, with a Bikky cameo that is full of win. Set a month after Like Like Love.

Lord Peter Wimsey: The Sceptre at the Feast. 2784 words. Vignettes across the life of Viscount St. George. I especially felt that the author did well by Helen, which is not an easy ask.

Brideshead Revisited: The Invisible Line. 1182 words. Charles and Cordelia meet after the war. A glimpse of different ways to love the lost.

Brideshead Revisited: Gillyflowers. 1308 words. Charles and Sebastian. Sensual and heartbreaking.

If on a Winter's Night a Traveler: I'm recommending the entire category, because they are all centered on a reader trying to access his/her Yuletide fic, and the comments on both the fest and fandom behavior in general are a collective hoot. If you are a fandom meta junkie, you must read these.


A side note: There is Cambridge Latin Course fic (locked to archive members only). With a BDSM tag. Dude.

Another side note: I am not yet clicking on the link to the massive Dr. Who/Lord Peter Wimsey Great War crossover out of sheer self-preservation, but I hear tell that it rocks the casbah, and that there is significant Bunter. (Is that a redundancy? Anyway, that'll be a treat for some afternoon when I'm not out of orange juice and marjoram...)

Tags: indecent gloating, recs, yuletide

Happiness is snacking on homemade chocolate-covered orange peels (a gift handed to me last night after Lessons and Carols) and listening to the Beautiful Young Man laugh at a brutal video dissection of The Phantom Menace and making some gifts (baking, wrapping, writing...).

I'm virtuously staying away from Yuletide until the first frenzy is over - the server's groaning under the load, and I'm that hoping whatever's ailing the comment function will get sorted out by the time I do start bingeing on reading this year's offerings. I did compulsively refresh isityuletideyet.com last night until I went to bed, just because it was making me giggle. ("Pssst... I see you shaking your presents!" "I can't tell you how much I wish I had put a hit counter on this damn thing." Etc.)

Then again, it's not as if I'm caught up on any of the other fests, never mind my teetering stacks of offline reading. I admit part of me is simply eager to find out if and how some of the more brain-breaking requests got filled (for instance, Mardy's prompt for the "Total Eclipse of the Heart" video: Please oh please tell me what in the name of dancing ninjas is going on in this thing, and /why/? ).

In the meantime, though, there's a ficlet to finish and cranberry bread to bake. Happy feast-day, y'all, if feasting you be.

I have neither the chops nor the time to do it justice, but Lyra Sena's prompt just tickles me no end:

Herman Melville/Nathaniel Hawthorne
Any slashy-vibe fic with Hawthorne and Melville would be lovely. If you could work in Melville's ridiculous ennui and Hawthorne's obliviousness, that would be awesome.

(From the master list of 2009 requests. Yuletide Madness is currently open to anyone with an A03 account and closes sometime this afternoon or evening.)

Sundown being so early last Friday night meant I was able to light eighth-night candles before my overnight Room in the Inn shift.

It was a pretty mellow shift, all things considered. We didn't have time to rustle up a more recent movie, but Bulletproof Monk was stupid fun, and while everyone else slept, I whaled through some copyediting and read volume 2 of Antique Bakery.

Sometimes it really is timing: when I first tried reading AB a couple years ago, I couldn't get through more than a couple episodes, and had brought along v2 mainly to give it one last try before putting it in my trade-in pile. This time, though, I was grinning from ear to ear. (It didn't hurt that Recipe 9 is a Christmas story. With croquembouche.)

This, of course, means looking at what AB fic there be out there. I am so in love with Omikuji, and Cakemate is soooo cute.

!@%#$^ vorpal fic of doom is still !@%#@!% vorpal fic of doom EATING MY HEAD. I have nothing to say about it that isn't profane or blasphemous. Moving on...

Picked up some sort of lemon-flavored liquid energy shot from Whole Foods back in the summer, stuck it in the fridge, and promptly forgot about it. Tried it yesterday after naps stopped working. Tasted nasty, but damn if it didn't work. But I think I'll try to return to getting enough sleep and brewing strong tea.

Things I'd like to get to today, in addition to billable obligations: reviewing some spots I stumbled over when I was sight-reading this year's Lessons and Carols pieces; prepping for the dinner I'm hosting for my beau-pere's birthday; writing some holiday/New Year notes; working on my Penny Experiment art -- oh, who am I kidding, that's more mountain than I can scale today as it is. (Also, we have houseguests. Fortunately, the BYM has been wholly in charge of that, and they all headed out for breakfast while I was still asleep.) Onward!

Horror #1: so-called unicorn on Etsy. My own reaction was a distinctly un-eloquent "What the -- EWW!" (which is rich, considering my own reputation for sick nonsense). My favorite reaction has been LJ:hugh_mannity's "Fair enough use of a stillborn lamb, but the horn's just wrong." (I wish he was kidding. Again, EWWW.)

Horror #2: Reading the plot of Anne of Green Gables: A New Beginning. Again, kinda rich coming from me, given how I have no qualms about inflicting character death and alternate universe in my own fanfic. But still, I thought "A Continuing Story" was dreadful from start to end (with the sole exception of Anne and Gilbert's reunion clinch), and this sounds like more of the same. Ergggggh.

Ooh-ing: The Blythes Are Quoted. I read the old edition of The Road to Yesterday back in high school, and that there's now more - ooh, yes. *adds to wishlist*

Rec #1: The Howling Moon at Snupin Santa. NC-17, 17K, warnings for "underage sexual activity among same-age teens, frottage, oral, hand-job, dub/non-con, bestiality/werewolf sex, angst, smoking." Author notes that "this story diverges from canon around the time of the Shrieking Shack incident, for reasons which will (hopefully) be apparent from the text." Why it stood out for me: outstanding portrayal of Severus/Lily friendship (there's a scene where they do the best-friends-making-out thing, and it's awesome), inventive plotting, and a lovely imagining of a happier alternate storyline.

Rec #2: Veiled Christmas at Kinky Kristmas. NC-17, 4555 words, kinks/Themes include "threesomes, bondage, gags, cockrings, pegging, piercing, voyeurism, breathplay, cockgagging, dirty talk, facials, and pervy use of the Death Chamber and Veil." Author's summary: "Teddy has finally found an intimate connection to his parents -- in the Department of Mysteries. Victoire, on the other hand, has found an entertaining idea of what to do with it." Hands-down THE filthiest fic I've read this season so far (*watches half of friendslist immediately scamper off*), and Victoire is so much a chip off the old cursebreaker. This exchange between her and Teddy (as she's ordering him to strip) made me laugh out loud:

"I used two Hittite locking charms, one Mayan, and one Etruscan. I do not think they will come in here even if they had cause."

" 'Less they called your Da," he commented as he let his trousers fall to the ground. The realization of what he said and what it would mean hit him like a brick to the face about three seconds later.