freckles_and_doubt: (Default)
I woke up randomly at 5.30am this morning, which is fairly standard at the moment, probably because my body actually hates me and refuses to take more than 7 hours of sleep regardless of what time I go to bed, whether or not I set an alarm or how tired I am (newsflash: very, more or less perpetually). What was cruel and unusual was lying awake for ten minutes happily plotting out my Saturday and luxuriating in the feeling of not having to fight traffic to work, which lasted only too briefly before I suddenly remembered it was actually Friday and a work day. Not cricket, brain. I do not appreciate being hoodwinked and conceptually ambushed by my own cerebellum before my first cup of tea.

I am now sitting in my office having a mental wrestle with myself about whether or not I'm going to attend a faculty curriculum symposium in twenty minutes, which will subject me to (a) crowds, (b) political rhetoric, and (c) interpersonal tension, all of which give me hives. I am very, very close to mentally categorising it as "not my problem, I'm not an academic", giving this whole profoundly flawed academic edifice the finger, and buggering off home. Which would be bad, and wicked, and awful, and lovely.

On the upside, tonight I take my sister out for a birthday dinner at the local Italian joint, which is very nice, so I suppose there's that. On the further upside, for the last few days I have been re-reading the entire Drarry fanfic archive of blamebrampton, which is unduly British and frequently hysterically funny Potterslash written by someone I darkly suspect is personally located somewhere in the bowels of the British civil service, and to which I attribute any preponderance of British idiom in the above.
freckles_and_doubt: (South Park Self)
Oh, dear. In pursuit of watering the burgeoning and increasingly verdant collection of pots in my back courtyard, I seem to have accidentally watered the Hobbit. He is slinking about the house at half his usual volume and twice his usual density, looking matted and hedgehog-spiky and somewhat cowed. I would be feeling more guilty except he's amusing like this :>.

In the Department of Random Ongoing Fangirling: so it turns out that if you slow the Sherlock theme down it sounds like something from a Tim Burton soundtrack.

I am obscurely charmed by this. Particularly since it beautifully accompanies fanart such as, for example, that by La-Chapeliere-Folle on deviantart, which won't let me link to the image, phooey. The Sherlock/Burton crossover appears to be inevitable. I blame Sherlock's silhouette.

Random fanfic rec! surprisingly, not Sherlock. This is an exceptionally beautifully-written slow-burn Harry/Draco fic which does my favourite thing in Potterfic, which is to explore the manifest iniquities and logical flaws inherent in Rowling's Slytherin/Gryffindor stereotyping. She really doesn't do nuance or sophistication or real human impulse in her moralities. Fortunately many fanfic writers absolutely do. This one is set mostly in pub arguments and is amusing as well as true.

The subject line is because it's a beautiful sunny day and my car sound system is onto The Life Pursuit, the Belle & Sebastian album voted most likely to make me randomly happy. It's all catchy, boppy, whimsical tunes, and I am a slut for catchy.
freckles_and_doubt: (Default)
It seems to be a random sort of morning. Thus, random linkery:

Programming language inventor or serial killer? Difficult to say, actually. I got 5/10. It's cheating to actually know what seminal programmers look like, all you geeks who are going to knock my score into a cocked hat.

And, apparently, Dumbledore was gay. No, really, Rowling says so. I have to say (a) I thought so, so much of his dottiness is explained by the Great Tragic Love Affair With The Proto-Nazi, and (b) she's timed the announcement beautifully: manages to have her political cake and eat it. All the liberals will be jumping around happily, the fanficcers are probably swooning, and she's already sold all the books to the frothing right-wing who will feel the need to denounce gay wizards. You go, girl.

I'm a bit sad that Neville marries Hannah Abbot, though. Gay!Neville is a curiously compelling fanfic creation.

Off now to herd toddlers. Wish me luck.


Friday, 16 February 2007 11:10 am
freckles_and_doubt: (Default)
Just to prove that I don't actually hate romance, only Valentine's Day: Harry Potter fanfic. H/D slash fanfic, wantonly perpetrated by the wonderful [ profile] mistful. Featuring Harry as a part-Veela love-magnet in an Auror partnership with Draco. Because it cheers me up. (And because jo needs reading material).

Drop Dead Gorgeous, Part One
Also parts 2, 3 and 4.

The Army of Reconstruction has recently, in a magnificent display of stupidity, put in my bedroom ceiling in the wrong place (i.e. a foot higher than it was, thus entirely obviating the whole point of raising the roof, which was to increase the airspace). They have also covered my study floor with random sprays of wet plaster and my printer with a thick film of dust, and are embarking on the pleasing project of digging up the kitchen floor just in time for tonight's SCA cookfest. The irritation levels are not combining well with my current Season of Dark Academic Despair, in which I curl into the foetal position in a dark corner at regular intervals, convinced that I am a worthless and futile entity incapable of coherent thought or insight. My apologies to anyone down whose unsuspecting front I have recently wept. It'll pass.

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