Weekend
Hard Days' Night
Rambling. Stream-of-thought blogging. I don't do that, usually. Normally I save into a crisp, neat, anal little text file, edit it at my leisure, and then post. Not now.
Damn this song. ("Long Way Down") Love and hate, adore and curse this beautiful wonderful song. Curse the Goo Goo Dolls for taking over my brain.
I might eventually dream this song. Lord I hope so.
Other songs I've dreamed (which is to say, they've appeared in my dreams, more or less whole)
Push It Garbage
Desert Rose Sting
Only Time Enya
It Has Begun (some sort of remix featured only in my brain, based in the same key and arrangement) Psykosonik
What was I thinking?
And yes, darling, you should go goth. You really should. You'd be adorable.
Me? I dunno. My hair doesn't take dye, and while naturally pale, I don't go for dark makeup and skulls and bats and whatall.
If I had my druthers, I'd do 80s punk. I'd have like a forty foot mohawk and wear safety-pins in my ears and call myself Fangs. Unfortunately, I'm not tall enough to support a hairstyle like that. LoL, albeit halfheartedly.
Or I'd be a princess. *Turns beet red.* There, and now you know my secret wish. Pixie princess, me. With wings. Chitinous gleaming dragonfly wings with diamond edges.
Tell anyone, and I'll sic Fangs on you. Her and Slayer.
My original Slayer. I think I mentioned her once: quiet blonde werewolf girl sitting in the back row in class, covered in too much denim--denim being her armor and her calling card. She just wants to be left alone. But they keep coming, with their kicks and punches and insults. And the wolf takes over.
Fangs, now, she's a different animal. Likes being what she is. Thinks it's funny, the way humans sort of squeak when you bite them--when they're in too much pain to scream properly.
And they wonder why my classmates unofficially voted me "most likely to become a mass murderer". That was, what, seventh grade?
No, it was fifth. That was the year I scrawled my life-plan into the yearbook like everyone else:
In twenty years, I expect to be an old woman.
Oh, how they laughed about that.
They didn't understand what I meant.
I expected to become my mother: quiet and haggard, working the graveyard shift all night to come home to a filthy house and a husband that screamed at her all day. When I was able to catch her awake, when we weren't fighting, she'd look at me sometimes and the tears would start in the corners of her eyes and she'd say "God, Jessie, I feel so
old."
That was what I meant, thou heartless smartass brats.
Thank God they got a divorce.
No, I don't ever stop mulling it over. Why should I? I've analyzed it eight ways from Sunday. That is my right. It was my family.
I'm glad it happened. Relieved.
It has nothing to do with anyone being horrible, or with either my mom or dad being horrible. She wasn't awful, he wasn't awful.
It was just that they were so awful together. To each other.
Everyone's remarried, to spouses that make them happy. (For the last time, dad:
you did the right thing by cutting us loose. Now stop asking me about it.)
I remember being so thrilled that my stepdad liked Mortal Kombat. That was his big selling point.
Gimme a break; I was ten.
I feel--weird. Completely disconnected from the girl I used to be. Which is good.
Never won any popularity contests, trust me. I was too busy dodging fists. (Anybody who tells you kids wouldn't be violent if it weren't for videogames is full of it. Those "innocent" children beat the tar out of me every day. Every freakin' day. Except when I was fast enough to get away.) God, I had anger problems and everything. I used to just press my face into the pillows on my bed and scream. I screamed myself hoarse at least twice. Just to know I was still breathing.
I can't even remember what that felt like. I can't imagine feeling like that now.
(I don't know why I told you any of that; I don't want sympathy. That was just how it was, and anyway it's not like that now. I guess I just wanted it out on the table.)
That's the other thing I was thinking about: being happy.
I can't remember the last time I just laughed without motive. I think it was Tenchi's "Russia is Oklahoma" thing yesterday; he can always make me laugh.
I don't know. Lately I'm too exhausted to be deliriously overjoyed. And I ache too much. I have permanent shoulder-pains from the crappy car. >^F
I have been feeling very--slinky, lately. Oh, fine. Horny. As hell. Call me >^D But there again, the feeling only pops up when I've had enough sleep. Which makes me wonder if the chemicals for various kinds of euphoria and the chemicals for sleep are linked in direct inverse proportion, or something.
Yes, folks, it just wouldn't be an entry in Jessica's blog without phrases like "direct inverse proportion", would it? ;^P
Back to fic. That seems to be what a slice of the regular readership comes here for...
"First Man on The Sun" (the Spike fic) just is--not--going--anywhere. It's sort of limping along; I'll have to go back and iron it out, see where I went wrong.
"Faces" (Brin's interlude) ought to be ready if I can bring myself to tinker with it for like an hour and a half or so.
"Shadows and Shards" second part is somewhere in Limbo, with the same completion-problem as "Faces", on a much larger scale. I've never liked the busywork, shakedown part of writing. Ever. Just ask my teachers ;^P
"Shaken" is a complete short. Mutantshipping! *^_^*
They're such a lovely couple! *Gush gush GUSH*. I might do some more with them, if they allow it.
Stuff that I'm kicking around: (which basically means it may never happen)
"Queen of Swords" that thing for Nangla. About one-quarter finished and drifting somewhere in Limbo.
"Knight of Swords" It means more the negative aspects of the card. Something for Baraka.
"Seven of Swords" or "Fast as You Can" a Mileena angstlet. Probably MK II universe.
"Long Way Down" --Gee, I wonder where that title's from? Kitana's broken heart can only be soothed by her other half. (Kitana/Mileena). I know, I know, I KNOW you're thinking "
eeeewww" but oh well. This one actually may get written despite me; it's been an idea I've been dragging around in some form or other for like five years. It just needed a spark to drag it into being. The song was that spark. It ought to shape up sweet, rather than nasty. Kind of on the order of "Shaken", but longer (1,000 to 5,000 words or so) and with more violence in it.
"The Most Beautiful Girl"-- basically "Long Way Down" in reverse. The twins are driven apart by hate and competition and two very antithetical boyfriends. In contrast all the scenes in TMBG are wish-fulfillment and do not actually happen. Except the het ones, LoL. I may or may not end up basing it on some of the events in the Conquest universe...
"Trapped" -- because I've always wanted to do a snippet with 'Leena generally making Sonya and Kano's lives hell during their imprisonment in MK II.
Alternate Universe/Bizarre
"The War of The Roses". Well, actually I've invested so much time in it, I think I'll leave it a secret for now...I'd hate for someone to snap it up and get working on it before I do. Put way too much work into it. Sorry ^^;
And non-MK:
"Tea For Three." Being study buddies can be a lot of fun. (Again, sweet rather than graphic.) Double-het: Utena/Miki, Anthy/Miki. Because Boy Genius deserves to get the girl, and more than once. In my humble opinion.
See ya ^_^
