Archive for: December, 2005

Still Haven’t Taken the Sky From Me

Dec 29 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Fandom, Geekery

Tonight, #firefly will be watching Serenity with each other. And I think everyone is going to be there. And it makes me so happy I keep tearing up. The only one we haven’t heard from is Philomel and that also makes me tear up.

We’ll start at 9 p.m. eastern and go until one or more of us keels over dead from the juxtaposition of “#firefly happy” and “this movie makes me angry!”

According to Xen and Spark, Etherstorm is up, running and good to go. I’d give the world directions, except I don’t want to run the risk of opening the doors to any of the dumbasses from the Care Bears fandom with their hugz and their emoticons and their incessant interrogation, “What is this show? Why was it canceled?” Makes you wonder if you could actually beat someone to death with a .pdf.

And because I can’t not say it: What do we talk about in #firefly? Porno, mostly. Sometimes food.

10 responses so far

Fanfiction Done Me Wrong

Dec 26 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Fandom, Never Off the Record

Christopher would like to let the whole world know that women fanfiction writers are about seventy-eight different kinds of wrong.

“Why don’t they ever write about wanting to touch boobs? Why are they always writing about touching prostates? Anybody who knows anything knows most men won’t admit they have a prostate!”

This is because, yes, I keep offering to touch his prostate because I am 1) a good wife, 2) very experimental, and 3) fanfiction told me to.

This all stems from a conversation we had in the car. To wit:

S: What do you want to do for the rest of the night?
C: Whatever you want to do.
S: Aarrrrgh. What do you want to do?
C: You’re the one who had to work all day. We’ll do what you want to do.
S: Do you want to game? Do you want to watch a DVD? Do you want to sit in the dark and look at the Christmas tree and make out on the couch?
C: For an hour?
S: Sure.
C: Cos it’d be like ten minutes and then…
S: Pretend it’s 1997 and I’m still guarding my virtue, however rudimentarily.
C: Then it’ll be like five minutes.
S: *inarticulate noise of disbelief*

So this led to a discussion of lovemaking and I admit, I torture him with potential prostate prospecting more than I should. And he’s very game about following the formula, which is:

C: Where do you come up with this?!
S: I read it on the internet!
C: Who wrote it!?
S: A woman.
C: Obviously!

So, okay, I know now not to believe everything I read on the internet. And hardly anything I read on Ashwinder. Except for the parts about touching boobs. Those are right on.

9 responses so far

My Guild is Cheesier than Your Guild

Dec 22 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Gaming, Never Off the Record

“Brig is very happy because he just did a 415 point crit on a squirrel!”

Let there be no doubt. That squirrel was pwned.

3 responses so far

TRAAAAAAP!!!

Dec 22 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Fandom

We watched Serenity on DVD last night and I didn’t cry and didn’t flinch and didn’t even really think any semi-suicidal thoughts. I think it helped that Christopher was sitting up against me and I was paying as much attention to running my fingers through his hair as I was the movie during THAT PART. THAT PART wherein Joss Whedon broke my heart into a million pieces and then set them on fire and then urinated on them. I did have to force myself to relax though, after. I had to consciously unwind all the muscles in my guts and concentrate on my husband’s lovely white-gold hair.

The real score of the night was the gag reel. Y’all need to go buy the movie and watch the outtakes right now. Go. We’ll wait. A friend told me she and her husband woke each other up in the middle of the night laughing about the jokes and now I can totally see why. I’ll never think of the phrase “baby Jesus” the same ever again.

So please go buy Serenity on DVD. If enough people buy it (and the nice guys at Best Buy seemed flabbergasted at its sale rate, so that’s good anecdotes), perhaps they’ll make a sequel. And in this sequel certain pilots will come back to life and look directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall (which is something that Mr. Auteur Pants Joss Stupidhead Whedon should have tried by now), and say, “Sarah, we didn’t mean it. See, it’s all okay!” And then I’ll sob with relief and rededicate my life to Firefly evangelism.

5 responses so far

The Kick In the Nuts Elves

Dec 20 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Speechifying

This one goes out to Shadowhelm, who got it just exactly right with regards to phraseology.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any more maudlin around the Et Cetera house, somebody broke into my car! The fuckstick in question smashed out my driver’s side window and stole my ashtray full of change. He got $1.75 in pennies and nickels, my parking deck card and a coupon for some free Starbucks that I had been hoarding in case of emergency frappucino jones.

Merry Fucking Christmas just doesn’t seem to cut it anymore. I have spent the morning, when not on the phone with the insurance company and the glass repair company, wondering what exactly I did to deserve all this shit—from whooping cough on down to loss of Starbucks coupon. Is it Harry Potter? Is this what my mother meant by portal to hell? Is it all the smutty fanfiction? I’m being punished for reading hot, sexy stories? I don’t think I’ve coveted anything and I have been nicer than naughty, on the whole. Is it because I use the f-word too much? Why?

And I’m never going to get anywhere with that line of questioning. At this rate, tomorrow will be okay. Thursday, though, is going to suck massively. I’ll keep you posted. And if the spirit moves you, perhaps you’d be so kind as to come over and put me out of my misery. Or at least bring me some eggnog and valium.

9 responses so far

Hallelujah! Holy Shit. Where’s the Tylenol?

Dec 18 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Speechifying

Last night, on the way to a nice Progressive dinner with the very extended family, we blew a tire! On Christopher’s car– which we have only had for nine months and supposedly had new tires when we bought it. On I-20, right where it merges into I-65. I handled this by praying fervently, “Please, Jesus, just let us live. Please keep us safe. Please let us live.” All I could think of was some idiot swooping around that Malfunction Junction curve, right into us and both of us being blown up and decapitated. “Happy Birthday, Jesus, help us through this one, okay!?”

And if you have a Nissan Altima Limited Edition, there is a jack turner and a lugwrench. They’re just hidden double super secret and the cost of extraction is the skin on your knuckles.

But the Progressive dinner was very nice. Except we were all stuffed past stuffing by the time we got done. And as we drove back home, in a borrowed car, having left Christopher’s in the parking lot at NTB, we decided hell, if things get worse than this, we welcome it. Like the Grizzwalds, we “are going to have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny fuckin’ Kaye.”

3 responses so far

Let a Comparison Facilitate… Thy Eyes

Dec 15 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Never Off the Record, Recovering English Major

My reading list lately alternates juvenile fantasy with unadulterated smut. After finishing His Dark Materials II: The Subtle Knife (holy cow what an ending!) I picked up Justine, or the Misfortunes of Virtue, by the Marquis de Sade, thinking to explore something that interests me in the original. I understand that sadism was hardly original at that point, certainly, but I am interested in the source material.

It’s very. Very. It’s a lot of trying to figure out exactly what he’s trying to convey (Did he just bite her on the ass? While she pissed on him?), how accurately he’s trying to convey it, and marking the page numbers as milestones– watersports before page thirty! And then it’s ten pages of some really poorly thought out philosophy. Then back to trying to figure out if he’s really fucking her in the ass through a communion wafer. Then philosophy. And while reading during lunch today, I actually laughed out loud at it.

It is quite a different thing that of loving or that of enjoying; the proof of it is, people love every day without enjoying, and people enjoy without loving. Everything that is combined with delicacy in the pleasures of which there is question, can be granted to the woman’s enjoyment only at the expense of the man’s, and so long as the latter is occupied with getting enjoyed, he certainly does not enjoy, or his enjoyment is merely intellectual, namely, chimercal and far below that of the senses.

Marquis? You’re doing it wrong.

4 responses so far

She’s Cute, But She Ain’t Bright

Dec 14 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Confession

I’m working on a theory that my address book makes me stupid. This theory germinated initially when I took it to the checkout at Barnes and Noble and it rang up $12.00 and I didn’t immediately put it back, because that’s a whole hell of a lot of money for an address book, don’t you think?

Anyway, I sent out all the Christmas cards last week and had a lot of trouble remembering first names and even if I wanted to send cards to people. Like I forgot my Grandpa’s first name. It’s Ed. Except all I could hear in my head was my Grandma (now dead) calling him “George.” I never did get a satisfactory explanation about why she did that. But anyway, took me five minutes of staring right at his entry in my address book to really get the idea that he was Ed and that’s how I should address the envelope. And I write him two snail-mail letters a month, usually—I use his address plenty!

So last night, I needed to call Rachael’s grandparents. Having sent them a Christmas card, I knew they were in my address book. But then I failed to account for Address Book Induced Stupidity. So I flip to the section where they are located and find her first name, starts with “B” and see the number and call it up. Some completely foreign sounding woman answers and I begin stammering like an idiot.

I normally have a very nice phone manner. I’ll say, “This is Sarah. May I please speak to…?” But if I feel like I should recognize the voice on the other end and I don’t, I freeze up and become unable to communicate intelligently. Instead of getting Nanny’s super-southern, soft drawl, I got this lower, distinctly not-southern, not-Nanny voice. I maintain enough presence of mind not to ask, “Nanny?” Instead, “May I speak to B please?” And I get the answer I don’t need, “This is B.”

Cue furious flipping of address book pages back to said section. And I realize, after one of the longest embarrassing pauses in the history of phone conversations, that I have to B’s of the same last name in my address book, both of whom live in Birmingham so no area-code prefix to possibly nip Address Book Induced Stupidity in the bud.

So I finally start laughing and say, “Mrs. So-and-so!” (Which is how I have always referred to her, never by her first name.) “It’s Sarah! I meant to call the other one of you in my address book. I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”

And we talked for a few minutes and she thought it was a kick that I have two of her in my address book. Talked a little about her new grandson and my new niece and Merry Christmas. I hadn’t spoken to her in years, but I can remember a time I called her house at least once a day. And I hung up and laughed and laughed and laughed. At least my stupidity is entertaining.

2 responses so far

Swear Word! Swear Word! Swear Word!

Dec 13 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Speechifying

Turns out that the ginormous coating of grease inside the kitchen pipes was the only thing keeping water (from both the faucet and the dishwasher) from just spilling out of the crappy pipes and into the cupboard. Which is now soaked. And probably starting to rot. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I really want to call the plumber back and blame him, even though it’s not his fault. Isn’t that horrible of me? Aren’t I deep down evil? “Hi there. Yeah, you took my sink apart and fixed it, except you put it back together for shit and now there’s water everywhere and you need to come make it better right now! And bring me an eggnog latte while you’re at it. Hold the nutmeg!”

Christopher has said that he is going to look at it this evening. I love him, y’all, you know that. And the man can build the hell out of a power rig computer. I don’t think he has ever plumbed anything, though, and I sort of have this vision of him, lying under the sink, being decapitated by a comically large crescent wrench. I mean, yes, men are supposed to get under the broken sink and poke around and “fix” the problem. But I am not the sort of woman who attracts that sort of man. I come from a long line of people who hire that sort of thing out and chose my mate accordingly.

Fuck.

2 responses so far

Mageroyal is the New Silverleaf

Dec 11 2005 Published by Sarah, etc. under Gaming, Geekery

Having a week of vacation with a semi-serious illness gives one lots and lots of time to play World of Warcraft. Eight and a half levels in six days, y’all– and fixin to be Artisan level at both Herbalism and Alchemy. And I completed my first Instance, though I feel like I should’ve got more xp for it. And I’ve started dreaming in WoW. Last night I dreamt my map was full of Kingsfoil and Liferoot and I was harvesting and harvesting and that skill was plowing up and up. Then, I was entered into a salad making competition. I won by making a Kingsfoil Salade Nicoise. In waking, non-gaming life, I have never had Salade Nicoise (as it contains potatoes and also I’m not that chic) but it seemed to work in my dream.

But life is a series of trade offs and other things are going to hell. Just in time for Christmas, both my car and kitchen sink have decided to die. I took the car in thinking it needed a brake tune up. The brakes are fine, but it needs four new tires, a whole new power steering pump and all new drive belts. It’s Christmas! I have $1000 lying around! Sure! But, it’s not like I can keep driving it that way, so whatever. I hate this bit, where it’s not economical or efficient to fix it, yet not economical or efficient to get a new one. Get a new one is what my brain keeps screaming, but dang.

And I don’t know what the hell is wrong with the sink. It just quit two days ago. We have been pouring large amounts of drano into it, but it doesn’t seem to be making any sort of difference. I think we’re at the point we’re going to have to call the plumber. And barter with him, I guess– the car place took all our money.

And amidst all the rest of the crap, WoW is the coping mechanism. We’re out of food, so I have to go get groceries. But I don’t want to because the kitchen is a mess. But I can’t clean the kitchen cos the sink is broken. But we can’t eat out because we can’t afford it. But we’re running out of dishes, to say nothing of actual edibles (now totally out of meat and veggies and down to four tortillas and some cans of soup) and I can’t wash anything! I keep wandering around in a circle, frustrated, wishing most of all to be able to clean my kitchen. So, we just go back to the study and play more WoW and I hope to finally get somewhere I can find Fadeleaf or Goldthorn and make orange potions. Ugh.

3 responses so far

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