Shut Up, and Let Me See Your Jazz Hands

I keep thinking about things I want to say and then thinking "I don't have enough to make a whole post" and screw that, so.

Does anybody watch Saving Grace? Because I would actually like to see it (shows are never set in Oklahoma!), but I have a problem: Holly Hunter is too white to be playing someone called Grace Hanadarko. I live near Anadarko and it gives me cognitive dissonance to hear the name/see a blonde. Does the character at least have some kind of Caddo heritage? Or did they just co-opt the name? Also, I am a little leary of their handling of the Murrah bombing, which is apparently an ongoing plotpoint.

I have a total kink for stories where everybody knows the canon's big secret (declassification of the Stargate Program, Sentinels-are-known AUs, etc.). The glimpses of a powerful, organized, and public Slayers and Watchers Council are a big part of why I love I Am What I Am so much. Unsung heroes getting fame and recognition = WOULD LIKE MORE FOREVER, PLEASE.

This is me.

I'm working on a mix. It's going to be called Go Into Your Emo-Corner: The Overidentification Mix and full of songs that I can't put on playlists because if they catch me in the wrong mood, they cause uncontrollable weeping or leave me screaming along because IT IS A SONG THAT SPEAKS TO MY SOUL. OR, Y'KNOW, MY EMO. WHICHEVER. Also, "get into your emo-corner!" is a line from a Transformers fic about Starscream emailing a domestic abuse center and it makes me laugh and laugh. Because domestic abuse isn't funny, but Starscream giving himself etchings because Megatron doesn't love him anymore and lets Soundwave badtouch him with tentacles is HILARIOUS.

( Spoiler for Prince of Persia movie )

So ladiesbigbang is going to be a one-off for me. Finding 150 stories that are a) awesome and b) at least 75% lady-focused is hard when I can't predict what fandoms I'm going to be into during the creation period. Like, if I could manage to revisit HP or bandom for more than a couple days at a time, this would be much easier, but fannish ennui is not really something you can arrange to suit a schedule. Working from backlog, I should be able to swing this round (I will be personally disappointed if I can't manage more than 150 just from backlog), but another round? Extremely unlikely.

I am terrible at answering comments and I'm sorry! I read them all and appreciate them and try to respond eventually...you just might be getting that reply notification a few days/weeks after you've forgotten about the original post. There's a whole thing in my brain about how replies should be substantive and so I wibble around trying to meet an imaginary standard and it's, like I said, a whole Thing.

I am kind of burnt out on profic? Everything feels the saaaaaame.

Next year, fuck it, I will go to another state to attend a fandom con. The last couple scifi "fandom" cons have just not really done it for me. This last one was especially poorly run - panelists openly admitted to having no idea what the topic meant, panels had zero description anywhere so there was a lot of guesswork, panels ran completely off the rails ("Great Bubbas in Science Fiction" turned into "Trials and Tribulations of Running a Small Independent Press"...within the first ten minutes). The arguments for attending Oklahoma cons were always cost and the chance to meet people I could have regular meatspace interaction with and since the second's never worked out, I might as well say fuck it to the first and just start saving now.

I remain totally sad that more people don't watch/love Rollerball.It is a totally shitty movie with one of the most CATHARTIC ENDINGS OF ALL TIME. Like, Chris Klein and his character are basically incidental to the point of it, which is that if you push the common people too far, they will FUCK YOUR SHIT UP AND SET IT ON FIRE.

And thank you fandom, I am now totally likely to accidentally use the word "amazeballs" at work.

If I have to pretend to smile while one more jackass says "Don't mark that [bill], I just made it this morning! Hur, hur, hur!", I will CUT SOMEBODY. Also, if we check it, and your bill is counterfeit, we will not "take it up with the bank, 'cause that's where [you] got it!" We will take it up with the cops, because we are not detectives or investigators of any sort; we are a store, not the Secret Service.

Because I am tired of paging through back entries to make certain-sure these are it: yes, self, there are only three poly rec lists on list50; you apparently scrapped Not a Crowd. 150 Lovers, The More the Merrier, and Exponential really and truly are all you've posted.

So, it should be clear to anyone familiar with this journal that list50 is both my love and my bane. Nearly three years in, I've got 77 lists under my belt (of the comm's 81 total) and hopefully, I can up it to 96 before March 14. That's only, um, 19 to go. Yeah, I don't think I'll manage either. But any way you slice it, 2008 has been my most productive year yet and I can at least be proud of that.

Anyway. 75+ seems like it deserves a masterlist. It's chronological, most recent at the bottom, and special projects are noted.
( It's a Little Long )

Minilist challenge dates:
Jan 14, 2012 - Mar 14, 2012
Jan 01, 2011 - Mar 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2009 - Mar 14, 2010
May 06, 2009 - May 21, 2009
Nov 14, 2008 - Mar 13, 2009
Jan 14, 2008 - Mar 14, 2008
Oct 01, 2006 - Nov 01, 2006

Community migrated to DW:
May 4, 2009 - May 5, 2009

This song is bizarrely cheerful.

NOTE TO SELF: Buy some bleach and clean the bathroom. Also, if you could actually remember to grab that extra vacuum next time you're home, that'd be great. Because the floor is gross.

Anyway. Thanksgiving.

Went well for me. For one thing, I got there on time, unlike some people I could name, who, by the way, do not seem to properly appreciate the fact that their best friend gave them the wake up call they asked for at a quarter to three in the morning. Just by the by.

The thing is, I love my family. No, more, I like them. They're smart and quirky and snarky and I heart them. I enjoy spending time with them.

Also, these are people who have their priorities in order. We had four side dishes and eight desserts. Eight kinds of dessert. And, y'know, you guys may mock me for my love of pie. My family may mock me for my love of pie. But we still ended up with FIVE KINDS OF PIE at Thanksgiving dinner.

Apple and pumpkin and coconut and peanut butter and OMG, PINEAPPLE.

And then there was OMG, BLACKBERRY WINE CAKE (which has, btw, totally become my signature dessert, to the point where, as a matter of course, I get the lion's share of the leftovers) and this peanut butter/caramel cheesecake which I didn't actually eat any of (things kind of petered out early this year; I didn't get a chance to hit my second wind) and then, finally, Fantastic Dessert. Which, for those of you not in the know, is a thickly layered dessert of whipped cream, cream cheese, and chocolate pudding, atop a pecan-studded crust.

And we had a new hit hor d'oeuvres this year. Know what it was?

Tiny sausages, wrapped in bacon, and dipped in a brown sugar sauce. Jesus, those were good.

And after the eating - okay, after most of them were done eating and Amber and I were still working on our dessert plates - we sat around talking and Richard and I freaked Cody, the newest edition to the family, out with tales of our lesbian grandmothers and our crazy, crazy, OMG!crazy mother. Cody, my cousin Jesse's husband, is in the Army and younger than me, which freaked me right out when I heard. He's homophobic, racist, and sexist, but damn that boy makes a killer pie.

Oh, yeah. About my hopes for my own personal pie. I didn't get a pie.

I GOT TWO! My family = best ever. I got a pineapple pie and a peanut butter pie.

And we played Cranium: Family Fun Edition and god, I kinda suck. I couldn't for the life of me think of a zoo animal beginning with r. My guess? Rantelope. Because I am dumb. And I don't do well with time limits. Also, I cannot draw a monkey and should never ever try again.

On the plus side, I got to use the tiny amount of clay to sculpt something that would make Amber guess "belly button". I decided the best way to do that would be to sculpt a really well-endowed torso. Because obviously, the boobs would let her know it was a torso. Yeah, not so much. Aunt Deanna got it! And then I finished carving out the belly button with my pinky nail and when she still didn't get it, I had to use the really tiny amount of clay I had to left to make some half-assed legs. Then she got it and we won. So yay, me.

I then spent two-and-a-half, three days, watching TV. Much of that was spent on zombie movies. And a couple caper movies. And the really, really, horribly bad cheesy sci-fi film (SFC's Saturday night movie! Angry Iraqis conjure up an ancient monster! There is the obligatory Stupid Reporter and her much smarter sidekick, Cameraman!).

Anyway, there will be more about those at another time. Also later to come: video game woes and bitching about fat jokes.

Currently, I'm feeling really stalker-y, as I've just read a year-and-a-half's worth of Gale's journal. And now I'm off to read more, because she's the one who clued me onto the Stoic Zombie OTP and I'm hoping for fic.