I think valerie_z has mentioned this story at least a dozen times and it was the dozenth time that did the trick and finally got me to go read it. Repetition can work. I am susceptible to repetition. Repetition is good. You will learn to like repetition. Repetition, repetition. If I type it often enough it starts to sound like a drum rap.

So I went to read Reaper Boy (scroll to the end for the story's beginning, for in its end is the beginning, she said gnomically and rather idiotically because parantheticals always make me absurd) and it was good and it made me cry. I held out to the end and when I started to see the finish line I thought, hmm, I don't know, she doesn't have much time left to get the tears going. But she got them in under the wire. Sniffle.

I think the story works even for people who haven't watched "Dead Like Me" though perhaps you need to be a QAF fan.

So far all I've eaten for dinner is Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds. For lunch I had mad cow. Non-organic beef, that is. In a bun. With a special, dubious sauce. Tasty, all around.

I look back over the last several posts I've made and they feel lackluster, as if I've been going through the motions. I wonder when I'll start to feel enthusiastic again. It's weird being out of synch with fandom--everyone watching Angel, I mean, when I'm not. But on the other hand, I am now up to my third tape of unwatched episodes, so at some point when I watch them, it'll be marathon city, and maybe it will feel like a bonus--like if we were suddenly to learn that ME shot a handful of extra BtVS episodes, in secret, and they were being released on DVD. When I was young I used to have a recurring dream of finding unread Star Trek novels in used book stores, back when the tie-in novel series was just getting started and there'd been only a handful of oddball titles up to then like Fate of the Phoneix, so ridiculously slashy.

Food. I need food. Food, fan-fiction, other good things that begin with F.