April 11th, 2003


Rec of the day.

Just finished reading up to the end of another WIP, a rec lifted from wickedprincess3, for the story Rapunzel. Quite an amazingly delightful Spike/Fred story. Yes. Spike. Fred. (No, you may *not* call it Spred. Grrr.) I'd never have given much thought to that pairing, but it works well.

The story moves a little fast, and Spike's characterization is a *bit* more wish-fulfillment than pure canon at times, but I'm still utterly charmed. And so much is dead-bang on target it's breathtaking. Gunn, Wes, Fred, Angel--all their voices and characterizations are uncompromising and pitch-perfect. (I miss canon Cordy's voice all the more after reading this.) In less deft hands, a writer would make their attitudes to Spike--all but Fred's, I mean--come off as pure character bashing used to prop up Spike's model behavior and Fred's defense of him. But here it's *exactly* like they'd behave. They cut him no slack, and Angel is ready to go back on his extension of credit at the first sign of trouble, but none of it is overwrought. Man, it's good.

(And as a sign of the writerly talent, watch for the scene where Fred gets cleaned up and everyone sees her for the first time, and just for a moment you think, oh no, Mary Sue, and then you get that very Jossian descent in tone that ties the bow on the scene. Sweet.)

And *Fred*, by the way. I love this Fred. And I love the divergence in backstory; fascinatingly different, and yet it rings rich and true.

Branches off from canon at the end of season five BtVS and...er, whatever the parallel A:tS season is.

And now, sleepily, to bed....

vampire girl

The day stretches ahead of me and I just want to burrow back into my covers. Deeply tired. Meh.

For a minute this morning, I sleepily entertained one of those meta, self-insertion bunnies. After jotting a few words of it just to clear my head, I realized that I'd really already seen this done sufficiently. And even if I haven't, the world doesn't need another one. But here is my silliness.
"Who are you?" Buffy asked her.

"I'm--uh, I'd rather not say."

Willow traded a look with Buffy. "Why not?"

"Someone might be reading this, you know?"

"I really, really...no."

She stared off into space as gloomy realization struck. "It will be my punishment to bear the name 'Mary Sue'," she sighed.

"Too right," Spike said, wincing his face up a little.

She glanced at him, down and then up again. "Huh. They're right. You really are short. Small, even."

Spike bristled in disbelief. "Who said that?" He glared around the room, then settled his pissy gaze on Buffy. "Like any of you scrawny-limbed chits have a place to talk, 'cept Harris here."

"Hey," Xander snapped, then paused. "Wait. That wasn't exactly an insult. Never mind. Wait, is 'chit' an insult and is there an implication of girlishness, because--"

"God, you're soooo cute," she said, mooning at them.

The two nonplussed men looked at each other, gazes communicating a mutual uncertainty about whether she meant them in particular, and in combination, and if so, gahhhhhh.

"So why are you here," Buffy broke in impatiently.

"Um. I'm not sure. It's some kind of authorial self-insertion."

Buffy held up her hands. "Okay. TMI. And...ouch."
And now: sunlight, nasal surgery, and work. Really, thank god it *is* Friday, or I'd be leaving on a tramp steamer for Burma about now.


a nose is a nose is a nose

Yeah. Lame subject line.

So they widened my nostril with a speculum, stuck probes possibly designed by the government deep into my nose, and performed a chemical cauterization. Mulderrrrrrrr! I'm not supposed to blow my nose until Tuesday. Shyeah, right.

The Matrix trailer is available for view, but it needs QuickTime 6, and I can't dl this to my work computer, because I don't have admin privileges. Bastards! I sulk.

Am very happy that people liked the X/S scribble. It's funny what trips people's triggers.

Little sleep last night. I am very tired. Must get a dozen help pages up by the end of the day, though. Headphones to ON position. Hi ho, hi ho.


random. tiny. bites. of anna.

I just had someone write to me and say, rather surprisingly, that he was "pushing back" on an editorial issue to a major corporate client because he quote, didn't want to piss me off too much, unquote. Heh. Feel my power! Now I must go reassure him that it's okay and that I'm really not that scary.

So, there's this particular cologne that some guys wear--many gay guys, I anecdotally feel, but also straight ones--that is the single most obnoxious force of evil in the universe. I don't know what it is, but it's *always* strong and gagworthy, and some day I'm going to have to squinch up my face, hold my nose, and take the plunge to ask one of these guys what they're wearing. And then bomb the factory.

Decaf mocha with light syrup and extra whipped cream: a counterbalancing force of good in the universe.


I'm distracting myself...

I can't focus. My post-op nose and throat, combined with my tiredness, mimic the symptoms of a cold. I'm snuffly and sore-throated, cloggy and foggy, and exceedingly pissy, like a cat with wet fur. Just picture a bedraggled cat, slit-eyed and evil, stalking around--possibly with something sticky on the pad of one foot so that every now and then it pauses to gesture rudely--and that is me.

On the upside, I yowled at my biz people for giving me a ridiculously short turn-around on an editorial request, and my page count for today has been cut in half, which is as it should be.

I *am* blowing my nose, damn it.

My stomach makes strange moaning noises--not of hunger, but of surfeit--sounding like a sick, tiny cow is trapped in there. Stupid gut.

It's TWO o'CLOCK. (Nearly.) How can it be TWO o'CLOCK?



I just edited some client text that was truly, mind-bogglingly, and rather amusingly bad--at least, if you don't have a faux cold, a headache, and a death wish. First, try to imagine a multi-page document riddled with typos, grammatically incorrect phrases, subject-verb disagreement, and odd word choices that suggest a German-to-English translation. Now imagine someone taking some random word--say, "fiber"--and strewing it liberally and bewilderingly throughout the text to produce bizarre results. For instance (not a real example):
The patented Healthy fiber Back Bag has been designed to hang fiber asymmetrically, contouring naturally to the curve of your fiber back and reducing fiber pressure points that cause fiber stress. The ergonomic design makes your fiber load feel up to one third lighter. Use the Healthy Back Bag as a carry-on, urban tote, baby fiber bag, gym bag or everyday fiber bag…it’s up to you. The bag is versatile, attractive, fiber and suited for men and women. Fiber. The interior is fiber fashioned into several pockets that provide optimum fiber comfort, organization and security.
Now imagine as well that the client copywriter has used, for this innocuous product, the most suggestive phrases possible to unintentionally humorous effect, such as "water sports," "teen facials," "penetrate," and "in-and-out surprise!"

Yes. Quite fortunately for all concerned, I have learned that none of my pages need to go live today, and we now have some time to get edited copy approved. Yay.

Salt and vinegar potato chips: yay.

Friday: yay.


Heh--no, wait--meh. Meh.

The weather is extraordinarily mild and beautiful, but nonetheless as I was coming home I had, for some reason, a premonition of summer--heat, discomfort, hayfever--and now I feel groggier and even more gross. But it's also my head, my drippy, miserable nose...the entire left side of my face, to be honest. Gah. And the skin of my face is as raw as it can be. And now, an ode to medicine:

Canadian Mist, Canadian Mist!
You make me blissed, Canadian Mist!
I can't resist! I won't desist! till I am pissed
and the fairies, the fairies, the fairies
...eat my head.

Or something like that.

Yes, that seems immensely humorous to me right now. Now go away.

No, wait--read my spam first:

RE: Angelas This is a great time to Refinance Your Home Loan doul

For some reason--Canadian Mist! Canadian Mist!--the closeness of that to "Angelus" and "DOOUL" is also very funny to me.

Oh hey, Charmed is on.


Isn't this day over yet?

Photoshop is the bundt cake that is kicking my ass. Can anyone help me? I mean, this is just one minor trick of many that I can't master, but still, I keep thinking that if I figure one thing out there will actually be a rule of logic that applies to other editing effects.

Ha ha ha ha.

Collapse )

Meanwhile, carolyn_claire writes S/X!

::Anna crosses another name off her list, smirking, then calls her secretary and notes, "World domination through Project SX4-EVAH is proceeding on schedule, Maureen. Wanna take a java break?"::

Go read! Bestow kisses!

(*I don't really have a secretary. I mean, bwah! What a thought.)

We now break briefly to celebrate alcohol once again:

    Forget the café lattés, screw the raspberry iced tea
    A Malibu and Coke for you, a G & T for me
    Alcohol, your songs resolve like my life never will
    When someone else is picking up the bill
Barenaked Ladies understand me.

But really what I need right now are more Ibuprofen, some sharp cheddar, and Diet Coke.