kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (+5 sword vs. bears)

--Here, I wrote a little drabble about spies smoking cigarettes because I wanted cigarettes but should cut down on the cigarettes.
--Here, in comments, I stole a very short story and turned it into the first metered, rhymed thing I've written for months.
--Here, my boyfriend wrote a story about cigarettes that's way better than my thing about cigarettes.

WATCH THIS SPACE FOR DEVELOPMENTS! I'm not filtering the heck out of this stuff anymore because I'm just not. Also, I've had some sort of headache for the past few days that's not exactly so much a headache, more like just a mass of bandages hugging my skull very tightly and surrounding me in a fluffy, soothing cloud of disorientation. Guess why.

Oh, great, Sammi has a cold and I'm going to get it in about three weeks. >:[ Should I start stocking up on Vitamin C or just wait until the sniffles start and ride it out?


--My Changeling character, Bloody Sylvia, got tapped to join the Ministry of the Scarecrow, a secret society dedicated to creating and perpetuating urban legends in order to scare mortals away from places where they might be stolen by the Fae. I'm psyched. One of the reasons why I stayed in Changeling is that it's still possible to create and shape storylines without having to stir up a bunch of interpersonal drama. I hope I can do something cool with this.
--I'm thinking of creating a one-off or two-off Changeling game, just for a few people, for fun--something along the lines of mortals trapped in a fairytale. The trick may be finding a fairytale that's obscure enough so that people won't know exactly what to do, but still usable with three or four players. It'd be my first time ever GMing.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (I was a teenage Volkon.)
[Poll #817334]
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
In "Werewolf: The Forsaken," I have finally decided to embrace my duties as a Teller of Tales. Tonight was a "moot", or "muut", or something along those phonetic lines, which is a storytelling festival that one of the elder characters can call for every so often. As one of the Cahaliths, I (completely unprepared) was required to stand up and tell a story.
So I stood up and tried to remember something that our pack had done that was cool. Nothing came to mind. Rather, nothing that would make a coherent story came to mind; the best action-packed adventure that we'd had involving beating the shit out of a bunch of rats, a story which our other Cahalith had already given a short account of. That was out.
So I got up and told "a story not of our pack, but of all packs. Names are not important, for they do not last; stories are immortal." I couldn't remember everyone's name.
The real story: Some of the Rahu (warriors) went to fight a bad NPC werewolf named Creed, at a bar. One of the alphas got killed, then one of the wolves in his pack gave his soul to a spirit who later turned out to be a bad guy in order to save his alpha. The alpha, resurrected, ran from the fight.
So I sang the tale of the brave warriors who assayed forth from their beautiful grove in order to combat an old and corrupt wolf, seeking him out in his filthy den of iniquity (this is rich, coming from a character whose pack owns a titty bar) to smite him. I sang of how the corrupt wolf had a bunch of vampires (it really didn't), and how our wolves killed them all. I sang of how Mel tossed an SUV through the wall of the bar (it was really a Volkswagen Beetle). I sang of the sacrifice of the wolf (the guy who played him later said that he'd almost been expecting me to say that he'd sold his soul to the devil to save his alpha, and that his alpha was now a half-demon or something--I filed that away for future reference, when I tell the story again).
Said alpha, the one that got resurrected and then FLED LIKE A COWARD WITH HIS TAIL BETWEEN HIS LEGS, immediately got very huffy, almost went into Rage, and challenged me. My response: "I took poetic license. It's art." (Luckily, Mel backed me up. Otherwise, I would be bitching about having to make a new character 'cause I got my old one killed by an insulted alpha.)
Everyone was impressed with my story, tho. Common response: "When you started talking about the old, corrupt wolf, I thought you were telling a myth. Then when you starting talking about the warriors and our packs, I thought I knew where you were going with it...then you started talking about the vampires. Vampires? There weren't any vampires...but your story was so much more interesting than what really happened."
I rule. I kick ass. I'm totally down with the oral folk tradition. I'm going to make up more stories about things that may or may not have happened, then put vampires and mages and shit in there. Yeah. Rawk. I exaggerate like a mofo.

Have three more icons. "Timecube" one stops spinning after a while, which pisses me off but which I can't do anything about at the moment, since I have no GIF animator anymore. "Automanipulator" one, ditto--no GIF animator to change speed or anything. I found an older version of it where the text is clearer, though. Saved in JPG instead of GIF. Going back and forth on William S. Burroughs "Shoot the bitch and write a book" one--too misogynistic? Too violent? Any good, even? I happen to like the quote. "Shoot the bitch and write a book, that's what I did." And the source picture: here, in case anyone wants to take a crack at iconage or whatever. I like this picture of him a lot.

Got a package from [livejournal.com profile] ghostgecko consisting of "JtHM: The Director's Cut" and another book which looks excellent. Why did he send me these? For Cthulhumas, and also because he is awesome, that's why. Lew, thank you. *e-hugs and other assorted fawnings*

Have much work to do. Have essays to write, posterboard to buy, CDs to burn, and a world to shake up. Hopefully. Yes, I'm taking a very optimistic look at the future right now. It's amazing what a sense of accomplishment and energy the simple acts of telling a kick-ass story and filling up your icon slots can give you.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
Ran around pretending to be a wizard for six hours yesterday. A mage, actually--apparently there is a big difference. A mage is a person who has access to a highly esoteric, occult, and powerful body of knowledge. A wizard is a person who goes around with a pointy hat and a long beard.
My character: Dr. Thora Mordrid. Dour, pedantic, snippy. (Well, I'm trying.) Wears turtlenecks, birth-control glasses, and her hair pulled back. She is a Mastigos, dealing with Hell and the Mind; Mastigos are known for being manipulative and untrustworthy (I'm a little too naive to pull that off, yet, but I'm also new as a Mastigos). Her magical aura is Lovecraftian, and her spells blah blah blah you don't really care about any of that.
The interesting part about her is her magical theories. She was a psychiatrist, you see. Now, everyone knows about the existence of Mages, yes? No? Why not? Are none of you pathetic geeks like me? I'm disappointed, I really am. Anyway, Mages are pretty much normal people until they go through things called Awakenings, which start out as "OMG there's something weird going on," go through a period of hallucinations which are actually real, then settle down slowly into their new lives as fireball-chuckers. There's also a subplot about Atlantis, but Thora is in the Free Council (bunch of lawless hippies), and she doesn't really care about Atlantis at all. So you're spared the mystical stuff. Be thankful.
Thora's backstory (yes, you do have to suffer through this): She Awakened through close study of her patients, many of whom were undergoing Awakenings instead of, as she had previously thought, simply having schizophrenic fugues. She now counsels new Mages through their own Awakenings, and is doing research on the connections between hallucinatory states and Awakenings. Contrary to popular Mage belief, she believes that within every Sleeper (non-Mage) lies a Mage, and that there must be some kind of trigger that will create an Awakening within a person. (This may involve hallucinogenic drugs. Don't rule anything out.)
So! I went up to Powers Hall, be-spectacled, be-turtlenecked, and be-doured. I brought Kathryn along with me as well, since she'd wanted to see what all the fuss was about. She ended up playing either an Awakening patient who thought she was a cat, or a cat soul within a human body. (OMG furry.) She did this by crawling around on all fours and meowing a lot, and was quite popular. (Everyone loves a catgirl.)
The evening started out normally, with a bunch of mages dead, a mage called Bladewing creating an evil evil haven house which can respond to your commands and shock you if it doesn't like you, and the Mages organizing into little cabals. Our cabal dicked around for a while, testing the house out and getting the feel of our characters. I was prepared for a fairly slow, character-driven game for a while; I even started psychoanalyzing the youngest mage there, a 15-year-old character who suffered from claustrophobia brought on by being an instinctive fighter. I was having a nice time...
...then Logan walked in.
I do not refer to Wolverine, although he reminds me of Wolverine somewhat. No, this is big, blonde, been-around-the-block-and-got-the-demon-heads-mounted-on-my-wall-to-prove-it Logan, who's been with the Camarilla since time immemorial. He tells great stories, blows smoke rings, and occasionally calls me "sweetheart." If I were straight, I'd probably have a crush on him. As it is, I happen to think he's pretty freaking awesome.
He immediately made a fantastic entrance by claiming that Bladewing was melded with a demon from the Abyss, and demanded support in overthrowing the bastard. "Oh, cool," I thought, "we're going to see some action tonight."
Alas, it was not to be. Nobody believed him. Nobody wanted to go with him. Why not? The reasons I got: A) He's a Guardian of the Veil (the Mage equivalent of the Gestapo; they are responsible for making sure that Mages don't let mortals in on the secret), and we're all reasonable, forward-thinking people, and we're not going to let him boss us around; B) Another player whose background indicates that he's known Logan's character, the Bishop, for a long time, suddenly turned around and decided to order everyone he possibly could to not cooperate with him. I thought that both of these were extremely lame reasons.
The Bishop, being a fellow Mastigos, took me aside later and let me in on a few secrets about the Abyss, Bladewing, and some other freaky shit. I was intrigued. My (comparatively) mellow little Mastigos was intrigued. After some negotiation with the various members of my cabal, I quietly took my leave and was initiated into the Weird Shit part of the game, which involves various demonic Elder God-type creatures, the Bishop wanting to take over the city, Kindred and Forsaken (Vampires and Werewolves, although now Vampires are considered to be never-human monsters entirely different from the once-human Forsaken), and a bunch of Mastigos sniping at each other. I could tell, immediately, that I was in waaaaaay over my head. Fortunately, everyone else was in over their heads, never having played the game before, and so I was in good company.
Slightly gobsmacked at the potential crossover, I left to re-join my cabal in a lame attempt at double-agent-ness. The game ended there, so we've got a little personal cliffhanger: Will Thora's cabal vote her back in? Will anyone cooperate with the Bishop? Will Logan, miffed at the aforementioned character who went around telling everyone not to trust his old buddy, actually come back next game? I hope so.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Liverpool Fantasy)
Strange and variable are my days.
I woke up at 2, felt sick and nervous and guilty and wanted to die. Spent two hours feeling like this before dragging myself out of bed and trying to force the cobwebs away; it took another hour and a bar of chocolate before I could feel like myself again. Does this ever happen to anyone else? I'm very worried, because that hasn't happened since I got up here. It didn't even happen when I was nervous about my laptop or my classes or my friends. And now, when everything finally seems to be going well...I don't know, maybe it's something I ate. I'm hoping it's not encroaching SADD, because I've been doing pretty well with the dark and whatnot so far. I don't want to fuck up my otherwise pleasant year so far with crying on the floor and lying half-conscious in my bed all day and wanting to stab my wrists with a fountain pen (seriously) and all the other emo crap I went through last year. That wouldn't be fun. No on the hopeless self-doubt and alienation, please.
I did take the precaution of making a special "it's almost winter and everything is dead and sad" playlist. It's mostly comprised of Nick Drake and Nirvana, my two favorite folk-fusion artists who killed themselves. Nice music to cheer up to! But really, if I'm going to be depressed for no reason at all, I'm going to let myself wallow in it a little. I was horribly angsty and pathetic and in denial last year. "Oh, no, I'm not depressed! Depression is for either angsty emo kids, one of which I am not, or people who have real problems, which I don't have!" Ha. Psych prof says that depression is "the common cold of mental disorders." Perfect, then give me some chicken soup and someone to listen to me and I'll be all right.
God, do I love Nick Drake. I just remembered how great he is. Haven't listened to anything by him for months. Even joined an LJ community. I feel like making Nick Drake mix CDs and sending them out to people. I think I'm going to have him as my dead possibly gay boyfriend. (Seems everyone has one of those except me.) I feel like painting wispy watercolors of dead trees or something.

Good things? Well, Vampire went unusually well for me. Last week, I'd gotten very frustrated about the fact that there was nothing for me to do in the game, so a girl named Jen, who'd just gotten back in from a vacation, took me under her wing and got me involved in a plot. There's been a sickness going around the Vampire community, you see, and we suspected the existence of a plague-carrier vampire called a Morbus.
Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to poke around the casino (represented by a classroom, as all things are) and see if we could find a freaky sick-looking vampire. Now, this is where I shone. My character has very high investigation levels, something she needs in her job as a tabloid reporter, something she hasn't been able to use so far for fear of offending other vampires with her nosiness. (Offending a vampire with higher status than you can often mean death, and I don't want this character to die just yet.) Combined with "wits" and "empathy" and other such powers (and some very high draws), she was able to spot the Morbus and track him down so that the more physically inclined vampires could beat his infected ass.
...until the bomb went off, of course. What was a bomb doing in a vampire casino? I have no idea. The Storyteller just, you know, put it there. Because he is a DICK.
But I got mad props and accolades and a few people even voted for me as the game's best player. And my confidence is built up to the point where I may start doing a little investigating on my own. I'm planning on trying to prove that the head of the Lancea Sanctum, the "Christian" vampire group, is in fact in league with the Inverted, who are rogue vampires that are more evil, if such a thing is possible, than regular vampires. Why am I doing this, you ask? Because it might be interesting. The Lancea Sanctum has been stirring up a lot of shit lately, hunting down people who don't agree with them, and it'd be fantastically satisfying to see the bastard responsible staked and left for the sun.

Need to call Dad and see if he'll let me stay in an apartment with Storm next year. Crossfingers. On one hand, it's an apartment, and I don't know how close it is to campus, and I'm already just barely able to take care of myself in the rather maternal atmosphere of the dorms as it is. On the other hand, it's with Storm, and I do like her. (Phone number. YES.) It will have to hinge on my Dad's willingness to help me out with the rent, because I don't think I have enough of my own to pay for even a few months' worth. Especially because I can't seem to find a job for next semester. I have tried, oh have I tried. Every place that takes less than 30 minutes to get to on foot is Not Hiring. If Dad wanted me to find a job so badly that he'd threaten to stop paying my tuition if I didn't get one, he should have told me this in no uncertain terms at the beginning of the semester instead of waiting until November, when all the jobs are taken. Even the cafeteria doesn't want me...or, at least, the idiots who make up the work schedules only want me during the hours I actually have class. Class takes precedence. Obviously.

Rented "Happiness" on [livejournal.com profile] dr_ninjapants's very, very vague recommendation. At least, he mentioned the movie and "crying for your mommy" in the same sentence. I take that as an endorsement. Sunday is reserved for writing at the Kaya and doing my German homework during Adult Swim, so this will have to be put off until Monday night. I cannot wait to see this.

La la la, nothing profound or interesting here today, folks. Move along. That's all.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
Vampire game is going interestingly. Spent half of it running around trying to get involved in plots--there are some interesting plots going on, like the possibility of a Mekhet clan-o-cide because they're suspected of being plague carriers, the the gargoyles that are attacking the city, the Inverted vampire that people were interrogating all night...and every time, my character is brushed aside. "You're not involved in this! You don't have enough powers to help!"
Finally got to talk to a Victorian scientist lady who wants me to help her with a project involving leylines and labyrinths. The girl playing her also turns out to be a theater major who helped me come up with some background for my character. Rob also lent me his Ordo Dracul covenant book, which is actually quite fascinating--the Ordo Dracul are the closest thing to actual mages that vampires have, full of ideas on how to transcend their vampiric curse and come out the other side with their souls intact.

Made some notes for a time-travel RPG based on the White Wolf system, while I was waiting for things to happen. You've got two possible groups to belong to, your temporal system group and your philosophy group. Your temporal system is how time works for you, whether it's an open linear system where paradoxes can be created (like in BttF), whether it consists of parallel universes than you can skip in and out of, or whether it's a recursive loop where whatever you change has already happened in your original universe. Your philosophy is how you handle time travel. You've got the Temporal Patrol, who go around trying to make sure that everything stays how it is; you've got the academians, who are mainly concerned with going back and watching history unfold (and sometimes change it accidentally in the process); you've got the Green Futurists, who are committed to creating a better world of today by changing the past; you've got the Time Spinners, who believe in alternate methods of time travel (like drugs or magic); you've got time travelers who just travel for fun; and you've got a very weird group whose aim is to erase their own existences so that they can achieve nirvana. I don't really know where I'm going with this whole thing, and I know it'd be hellishly complicated to actually play and keep track of all the timelines, but it's fun to play around with.

Oh! Novel! I've given up actually producing word count for the night (will try tomorrow night, after FC). I'm tired from six hours of pretending to be a vampire. Tonight is a night to read other people's novels--[livejournal.com profile] oddzade and [livejournal.com profile] diraskyria and [livejournal.com profile] lemmealone and [livejournal.com profile] drworm and [livejournal.com profile] starlasoma are all doing it, and these people are writers who deserve serious attention.
Now that I've established Douglas's and Prof. White's symbolism, I'm worried about their characterization...the problem with making characters into archetypes is that they stop being characters. I don't want to have them spout cultural ideology off every time they open their mouths, which has been a problem in the past with me when I have characters that are supposed to represent certain viewpoints. Nor do I want to have them repeat the same arguments over and over. This is the problem with original characters, making sure that you know how they behave...you don't have this problem in fanfiction, for the most part. You know how Marty or Herbert or Silent Bob is going to react to certain stimuli, and even if you don't, your inability to convincingly portray them doesn't destroy their original character. If Douglas's actions are inconsistent for no good reason, he doesn't really have a character, he's just a plastic doll for me to push around. And I don't want to push him around, he's been pushed around enough already.
Yeah, this is a little bit of culture shock for me. I've been writing fanfic for so long that I've forgotten what to do with characters that actually depend on me for their personalities. Well...kind of. Douglas is part George, after all...just call it a transition period. Doing the established-character/original-character balancing act is proving to be more difficult than I thought.
Plus, the next scene takes place at school and is supposed to have Spiff torturing Douglas, and I don't really relish the thought of writing that part. It makes me a little sick thinking about it...and then there's the question of Spiff and how to portray him differently from Biff. Big dumb brute? Fledgling sociopath? How am I going to take his True Nature into account? Decisions, decisions...this is why I'm going to wait until after FC, they always give me good ideas.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
This weekend has been truly excellent.
Saturday night, my White Wolf character kicked ass. Our tribe, the Valiant Bastards, has been an outcast tribe--we've been relegated to the outskirts of Mount Pleasant for most of the game. Our Alpha, Mel, doesn't particularly like this treatment, feeling that he's owed something more for his long service to the city kicking the asses of many supernatural NPC monsters. Since he's never been in his own pack, and just decided to create his own out of most of the newbie players this year, the Alpha of Alphas is extremely reluctant to accede him an inch of city ground. (Werewolves are apparently very territory-centered--not the same thing as being territorial, although they are that too.) In the meantime, the city is dying because the Alpha of Alphas kicked out the Rites Master, who essentially cursed the city.
So us Valiant Bastards have decided that we're going to find out what's going on with the Rites Master and be on his side. In the meantime, the Alpha of Alphas gave us a mission--to kill Rat Monsters. They're infesting a quarry, and they can only be found in the spirit world. Luckily, we not only have an Indian shaman in our pack, but two Cahaliths, who have connections to the spirit world. And my little techno-geek raver is one of them.
Cahaliths can have one prophetic dream per month; normally, the dream just happens if you ask the Storyteller nicely. We decided to force the prophetic dreams by having the shaman (Brady) do a ritual, which he actually used a real Navajo chant for (his roomie is a Navajo who's practically never been off the reservation before). It worked great. We managed to summon a Level 5 spirit to help us, which is just one level below an actual god. I drew the actual vision, and worked out a cunning plan to ambush the Rat Monsters in their den. We then proceeded to completely kick the asses of the Rat Monsters--even us non-combative Cahaliths got in on the action by chucking rocks. It turned out that the quarry they were infesting was the spirit's home, so we gained its favor by kicking them out, and it even gave Brady its spirit gift.
The Alpha of Alphas grudgingly gave us a small patch of territory in a very rich part of town--not what we wanted. Mel wanted the Strip because he owns a titty bar there, which is pretty much the home base of the Valiant Bastards. (The titty bar is actually a small classroom in Powers Hall; it's tiny, covered in tiles, and smells vaguely like a bathroom. I'm pretty sure it was at one point.) The Alpha of Alphas also gave Mel the right to challenge him for leadership, which Mel's not going to do (I think) because he's pretty apathetic about leadership. Our pack is already the most democratic pack in the game, and at the same time, the highest in solidarity--no interpersonal squabbles. We're also all pot-smoking slackers and flaky weirdos, and, with our spirit help and butt-kicking abilities (and some major dirt we got on some of the other tribes), poised to be quite powerful fairly soon. We are the best damn tribe ever. (Which is very tribalistic thinking, which is encouraged in White Wolf. On the other hand, backstabbing and secrecy is encouraged in Vampire, and I can't handle that. Guess I know which monster I'm meant to be...until MAGE starts in October. I'm looking forward to that so much because it is just such a damn fucking cool game.)
Also had a very spirited conversation with Robyn and her friend whose name I can't remember after the game involving sex, Harry Potter, the blending of the two, polyamory and why it is totally cool, religion and why different ones are cool, and how hot slash stories are. (Brady sat there quietly and fed me bacon. He did not wish to participate in the girlish boysex squee.) That was fun.

Sunday, I went with [livejournal.com profile] diraskyria to see Corpse Bride. (ETA: Oh, fuck spoilers, there really aren't any in this post.)
DANNYYYYYeeeeeee. :ahem: Ok, now that that's out of my system: I liked it and thought it was just terribly cute. Perhaps too cute; the talking animal companions were very, very Disney, which I don't particularly like. It's only the second movie I've ever thought was genuinely romantic, and the other one was "Bride of Re-Animator," which has a similar plot: Undead girl loves living boy, living boy loves living girl, undead girl gives up and expires. Except that Victor doesn't really have a Herbert equivalent. (Bonejangles? Anyone want to write Victor/Bonejangles? Lots of really terrible "boner" puns?)
Depp/Elfman slash? Mmm...well, never mind. Not so interesting of a couple as Tim and Danny. Less of a dynamic. Much less. The eye candy factor? Let me put it this way: It's an established and unremarkable fact that Johnny Depp is hot. Saying "OMG, Johnny Depp is so hot" is somewhere on par with saying "OMG, the Mona Lisa is such a great painting" or "Beethoven's Fifth is such an awesome piece of music." Everyone in the world has accepted the fact that Johnny Depp is hot. Tribesmen in the remote Amazon who have never even heard of movies are aware of the fact that Johnny Depp is hot. It is not an accomplishment to note this. On the other hand, it is a little unusual for someone to blithely state that yes, Danny Elfman is hot...and therefore, I blithely state this now: Danny Elfman is hot. Therefore, I'm planning on writing some Tim/Danny, because I kept getting little Tim/Danny moments during the first part of the movie.
Clearly, I have some odd attractions. Here's another one: Undead chicks are sexy. (NOT NECROPHILE) Let me rephrase that: Zombies in love with the living are terribly romantic. I firmly believe that Corpse Emily and The Bride from "Re-Animator" would make an adorable couple, somehow. (Perhaps they could have a threesome with Sally. Mmm.) I'm actually working up a Re-A/Corpse Bride idea, because I keep deliberately forgetting that movies don't all take place in the same universe. (All she wants is to be alive so that he'll love her...Herbert West can't bring her back to life, but he can do a pretty good job of making it seem like she is.)
Danny, as Bonejangles, was excellent (what little there was of him!). He has a kind of odd buzzy voice that is quite clearly Danny's, but crossed with a chainsaw. I like it. I particularly liked the way the living world was all washed-out blue and grey, whereas the undead world was vibrant green and orange--textually, this reflected the way the straight-laced-ness of the Victorian living world (obsession with status, money, marrying for either one of those) versus the more relaxed and social atmosphere of the dead world (parties, love, everyone's equal when you're dead). Metatextually, it's another extension of Tim's affinity for the afterlife and colorful portrayals of it. (And Danny's Dia De Los Muertos, "Dead Man's Party" attitude, particularly in Bonejangles' song.)
Afterwards, Fic Collective and stories about dead bodies. Mine was recieved as "weird but really good" and "disgusting...but sexy!" and expansion was suggested. The other story really, really should have been about necrophilia. Started out as a story about a mortician, and then...petered out into a detailed description of a guy eating a hamburger. (Was the hamburger made of people? You would think so, but no.)

Also, [livejournal.com profile] ghostgecko gave me the best idea EVER for a vampire story, and I hope he doesn't mind me using it, and he is brilliant and awesome and I do love quite him a lot, and he's awesome--it bears repeating. And [livejournal.com profile] drworm kindly allowed me to bounce insane ideas about time travel and gender roles off her and is quite wonderful in general and I love [livejournal.com profile] drworm quite a lot. I love them both quite a lot.
And [livejournal.com profile] eshugh sent me a copy of the "Bride of Re-Animator" soundtrack and of Jeff Combs reading the original story. THANK YOU!!!!! I may actually get some Re-A fics done now with this inspiration, or at least started, which is half the battle.

Note for [livejournal.com profile] cmu students involved in the the Ellen Taylor controversy over her utterly crappy columns: I offer an alternative. Nick Moose, columnist for the Kent State college newspaper. Sent to me by [livejournal.com profile] drworm, who goes there. I propose some kind of columnist exchange program, or at least a meeting of the minds. Ellen Taylor can learn how to write something amusing for a change, and Nick Moose can get laid so that he can stop masturbating for a while. ('Cause there's no such thing as just being Platonic columnists!)

One last comment: "American Dad" was particularly amusing to me tonight. Catch it on Thursday at 11 PM if you haven't yet, because I am fairly sure that at least 95% of the people on my friendslist can, like, TOTALLY relate.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
The Sci-Fi channel rocks my socks on Sunday nights after 4400 is off (no Jeff this week). Twilight Zone had an excellent episode about a man who discovered that he was a robot. This has been a minor fear of mine ever since I read "The Electric Ant" by Philip K. Dick, so I was quite attentive to the show. (This is also why I cried so fucking hard at the end of A.I.) And now I am watching Quantum Leap, which I haven't seen in ages. Considering writing a crossover. Already have enough stories on my plate that I need to finish. Am terrible at prioritizing stories.

Ever since I joined the White Wolf LARP on Saturday nights, I have been hanging out with a guy named Brady Brenner. Brady is about 30 and feeds me bacon when the group goes out to Shoney's after the game, and I was worried that he was flirting with me. I do not wish for males to flirt with me. (I had three guys this week tell me that I was cute. Why? I try very hard to look and act asexual, insofar as that is possible with my very limited wardrobe. Should I start dressing in a more masculine fashion to avoid this? I've tried this. The boy I was dating at the time said it made me look "cute." So cross-dressing appears to be out. Should I try to disfigure my face? Is it my hat? I get a lot of comments on my hat. My Psych prof even tried to steal it.)
So I took everyone's advice and mentioned, in passing, "Oh, my week was great! I got a letter from my girlfriend who lives in Texas!" (I did get a really sweet letter from [livejournal.com profile] nyghtshayde who is my online girlfriend, so it does kind of count. Random note: I recently told someone that I have two half-girlfriends, which makes one whole girlfriend. However, I am still single. How does this work? I'm not necessarily complaining, mind you. Something just does not appear to add up.)
My suspicions, for once, were correct. Brady had indeed been flirting with me. When I explained that I did not look at males as possible romantic relationshops, he said he was a little disappointed and a little relieved, because he had been looking at me as a potential romantic relationship, and he hadn't been sure of how to treat me because of that. Now that he knew I was "off-limits," as he said, he could relax and not try to worry about impressing me.
He still gave me his bacon. And he did tell me that I had beautiful teeth. (This was in-character, so I suppose it's a compliment for a vampire.)
I'm having a lot of trouble keeping up with the game. It's much more character-driven than an average tabletop game, and there are at least ten different plots going on at one time, and I don't know which ones I'm supposed to be in. Frustrating. Lars the Storyteller (LARP equivalent of Dungeon Master) explained to me that nobody knows what's going on in any given plot at any given time anyway, so not to feel bad. He also explained some of the plots to me. I have plans to get more involved in some of them.
Lars then told me about a new character he was creating for himself, a 6,000-year-old Sumerian vampire. He then lectured me for fifteen minutes on ancient Sumeria. I love listening to people talk about things they're really enthusiastic about, no matter what the subject is. And ancient Sumeria is really quite interesting. Lars is also Raphael, a Toreador. Toreadors are another really fun bloodline. They are vain, pretty, shallow, charismatic, witty, pretentious, avant-garde, elitist art snobs with expensive tastes.
I'm planning on changing my character a bit so that her Sire is Vitaly (aka The Onion). Vitaly is the new Sheriff and a member of the Lancea Sanctum, the insane Christians of the Vampire world. He calls himself The Inquisitor now. More importantly, he is a Malkovian, which is a bloodline characterized by insanity. My character, instead of being a novelist, shall be a conspiracy theorist who writes "THE TRUTH ABOUT HOW ALIENS BUILT THE PYRAMIDS AND INVENTED STRING CHEESE"-type of books. Not as official as Fox Mulder, or as enigmatic and clever as the Question, but certainly someone to be reckoned with in terms of batshit paranoia. She is going to love the Sumerian vampire when he comes around.
Note to self: When you find yourself wondering which clan, covenant, and bloodline various celebrities and fictional characters belong to, it is a sign that you should get some nutritious food and sunshine before you start writing Mary Sue stories where your Mary Sue is a vampire with a really stupid name. Maybe I should start playing "Mage: The Awakening" instead to forestall this possibility, because that way, if I do go out of my mind and start writing Mary Sue fanfics involving my role-playing characters, a mystic and enlightened Mage would be significantly more interesting than a vampire, and the Mage system would mesh much more easily with most of my fandoms.
ETA: There is a character in our Vampire game who is a mad scientist who used to cut up small children and try to make Frankenstein monsters out of them. My character is a student of his Sire. This is going to be really interesting.

I really don't have anything interesting to say tonight. I'm very hungry and don't feel like sleeping and am trying to make a Re-Animator [livejournal.com profile] muse_secrets that will express MY INNER ANGST. (Yes! I have some! Is this a surprise to anyone at all?) Right now I'm kinda identifying with The Bride for a lot of reasons that are too melodramatic to explain without me feeling like an idiot.

Note to those who missed it: The episode of "American Dad" involving Patrick Stewart singing "Little Girls" is going to be on Cartoon Network on Thursday at 11 PM.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
My roommates just left in a cloud of glitter, terrible wine-smelling perfume, and short skirts. They left with boys. I assume they are going on some kind of triple date, because they did not invite me. They did leave the door propped open, so I do not know whether they are coming back or not.
People have been coming back and forth all day in and out of the room. I don't know who most of them are; I think they're Sara's friends, but it's hard to tell, because Annie and Erin were also talking with them. I didn't see them arrive, just wandered out to take a shower and they were there, lying on the futon and watching football.
It has not been a very pleasant or interesting day. I've had a lot of German homework that I really didn't want to do, and had to read an essay on "Theme" for my English class that I completely disagreed with. (Or maybe that was just because I was in a really fractious mood.) Also laundry, and I've ruined three of my favorite shirts with really bad stains. I didn't bring enough clothes to begin with, actually. Now I only have about 5.

I missed Fiction Collective. It's usually at 8 PM, but Skylie set this week's meeting at 4 PM. I wrote it down and everything, but my mind went, "Ooh, it's Sunday, get to the Kaya by 8," and so I went there at 8. So I missed seeing everyone after a whole long summer. I feel like such an idiot. Such an idiot.

Point of amusement: Am watching "American Dad" right now and Patrick Stewart's character is singing "Little Girls."

RPG Saturday was fun, though. We're playing White Wolf (every other Saturday), which is a werewolf game. My character is an Ironmaster, which is a technology-oriented Tribe, and a Cahalith, which is the bard/empath moon sign. I tend to play intellectual characters in RPGs.
My actual pack is made up of:
Mel: Played by Logan, an elder statesman of LARPing. Mel describes himself as "basically like Marv in Sin City," although he reminds me more of Wolverine (mostly because I haven't seen Sin City yet). Mel is the alpha. He is a very laid-back alpha within his own pack, and quite a hardass to anyone who challenges it. (He's been playing this game three years, so he can afford to be.)
Rigel: Played by Mike, a shy geek boy. Rigel is a New Age con man and is trying to start his own religion among the mortals in order to sell more supplies. At my suggestion, he is trying to affect a cultured Southern accent.
Davinius: Played by Dan, a spiky, beaky kid. Davinius is a Ghost Wolf, which means he's a total outcast without a tribe. We're trying to help him find one. He also has two personalities, a crazy redneck and a slavering psycho who has to be kept on a chain.
Fares With Spirits: Played by Brady, a very nice older guy who's kind of glommed with me IRL. He is a Native American shaman and lives on the reservation. Packs one helluva peace pipe.
There are two other characters in our pack whose names I can't remember, since they had to leave early to go get their baby; they're a couple in real life (not in the game, I think). The guy is playing a gang member. The girl is playing another Cahalith. She's more of an empath type, whereas I'm more of a voice-of-reason type.
Our pack is the largest in the game, but we're kind of the misfit pack. We have been given the outskirts of the city (we tend to stick around the quad, but we play as though we are all over Mt. Pleasant) to guard. Mel expressed the opinion that unless we get the territory we asked for (the downtown area, mostly because it contains Mel's favorite bars), we ain't guarding shit.

The Vampire and Werewolf games are made by the same companies. Said companies also put out a game about mages which I would absolutely love to play, but there's nobody running one. (I also want to try playing "Call of Cthulhu." I also need to get more Lovecraft books. I am woefully under-read in that area, particularly because I want to write a Lovecraft pastiche.)
One of the things I like is that all of the handbooks have a chapter in the front where they explain the game and list influences. In the Mage handbook, Re-Animator, Naked Lunch, and the complete works of Philip K. Dick are listed as being influences on the people who created the game. The thought of Herbert West or William S. Burroughs as mages amuse me. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is listed as an influence on the Vampire game. (I don't totally understand the reasoning behind this.)

My roommates are back and are asking each other if they have any liquor hook-ups. They haven't asked me yet. Maybe I've turned invisible?
ETA: One of them brought me back some new T-shirts. I am saved. What a nice girl. Now they are discussing new boyfriends. It's so interesting to watch people that you live with go through relationships. Especially when you have just about no hope of getting any.

Anyway, I've got a new story to work on. I'd like to co-write something with someone. Or have someone that will feed me ideas. I don't see this happening anytime soon.

And my ethernet cord keeps falling out of the socket.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Rishathra--alien sex)
Preacher Rick is back!
Those of you who go to CMU have probably already seen him in the Pierce-Anspach courtyard, but for those of you who don’t: Preacher Rick is our resident crazy ranting evangelist. He likes to set up a sandwich board in the courtyard and yell about how all us liberal promiscuous gay drug-taking atheist college students are going to hell and God loves us. The first time I ever encountered him, he was ranting about gay marriage and I made the mistake of getting upset and screaming that he was a judgmental bastard. He thought it was very funny.
Anyway, people sometimes like to get into arguments with Preacher Rick. I enjoy listening to these, so on my way out of German class yesterday I swung by and managed to catch the end of an argument between Preacher Rick and a young man with a goatee and one of those big earring earplug things, the kind that Roman Dirge wears.
Earplug dude: “But how can you ignore empirical evidence like that? That’s just wrong, man.”
Preacher Rick: “I don’t ignore empirical evidence! I’m a scientist too. I majored in Biology.”
Earplug dude: “That doesn’t mean you’re a scientist, man. It just means you majored in Biology.”
Preacher Rick: “I am a scientist. I have a website where I have empirically proven the Bible through science.” (I don’t think that word means what I think he thinks it means. Empirical, “Relying on or derived from observation or experiment; verifiable or provable by means of observation or experiment.”)
Earplug dude: “Yeah, sure. What’s the address?”
Preacher Rick: “Anyway, you’ve got to have faith! And everyone has faith!”
Me: (seeing my chance to be a know-it-all) “Actually, that’s not true. And it’s been empirically proven.”
Preacher Rick: “Oh yeah? How so?”
Me: (launches into 5-minute explanation about the VMAT2 gene, probably BSing a little in the process)
Preacher Rick: “But science lies! Everyone has faith. Jesus even said so. God has given everyone a measure of faith, even if we have to dig it out of ya!”
Earplug dude: “Weren’t you just listening to the girl? Empirical evidence, man.”
Preacher Rick: (to me) “I bet you that we can get that faith out of you. I bet you will find Jesus.”
Me: “Ten bucks says you’re on.”
Preacher Rick: “I don’t play for money, I play for souls. Have you ever wanted a supernatural sign from God?”
Me: “It had better be quick. I have to go to class.” (I didn’t.)
Preacher Rick: “You can’t just spread out a fleece like the moneychangers and order God to it.” (So people can summon God to possess warm fuzzy polyester blankets?) “God will show you the way soon. I’ll pray for you!” (He looks up at the sky, holds his hands up.) “God, show this girl a sign!”
Me: “Um, okay. Tell you what, I’ll keep my eyes open, and if God sends me anything supernatural in the next week, I’ll totally tell you.”
Preacher Rick: “You will do that.”
I can’t pass this up. I’ve hatched a plan. If I see Preacher Rick again within the next week, he is going to hear all about my supernatural vision of R’Leyh and how he should totally start worshipping the One True Elder God. I may also print out the Jack Chick Lovecraft parody to give him. Will update if anything happens.

In other news, I switched my RP characters for Thursday. I am no longer an idealistic monk, I am in a game called Naruto which is apparently about ninjas. I am an eight-year-old ninja. The reason I have switched is because Bekka and Ben, who created the Naruto game, were sad because they didn’t have many players, and Matt the original DM had too many already anyway. I figure one game is as good as another, and even though everyone took about 3 hours to make their characters, the ninja game is shaping up to be fun. I already caught a pet mouse because I thought it was a rabbit and wanted to bring it back to my sensei so we could eat it. (My character, though she has an intelligence score of 19, is totally a city kid. Plus, she’s eight. At eight, you’re still dumb.)

Ganked from [livejournal.com profile] evillunch: “Look at your LJ "interests" list. If you have fewer than 50 interests, pick every fifth one. If you have between fifty and seventy-five interests, pick every seventh one. If you have over seventy-five interests, pick every tenth one. If you have fewer than ten, pick all of 'em. List them here, and tell everyone exactly what it is about these things that interests you so much.”
I have jiggered these around somewhat.
Being subversive: I try to make most of my writing a little subversive or in some way unexpected, even if it’s just a fluffy slash story or a silly poem about squirrels. It makes people think, and it’s much more fun than trying not to offend people.
Conspiracy theories: The weirder, the better. I don’t really care who really shot JFK or whether there really were aliens at Roswell (it was just Zoidberg and Bender, btw). I want to know about how the Girl Scouts cause crop circles and how the Masons are really the remnants of an ancient Cthulhu cult that put marijuana leaves on the backs of dollar bills.
Devo: A new interest, just this past week. Geeky dystopian New Wave punk rock. (Am I just imagining things, or does Mark Mothersbaugh sound eerily like David Byrne? They both have an odd, thick, warbling vocal quality that I can’t really describe.)
Fairy tales: I started reading these when I was a tiny kid and never stopped. I particularly liked the Grimm Brothers and the Arabian Nights, and I’d make up my own fairytales that were just mishmashes of already existing ones. There are really only a few fairytale plots, anyway; they’re all archetypes that have been jumbled around and made to interact with each other in new ways.
Guns ‘N’ Roses: The band that began my adolescent rebellion, and the first music I listened to that I picked out on my own. Before that, it was all Mom’s Enya and Dad’s Steely Dan and the Hanson and RadioAAHS! of the other kids in my class. I listened to “Welcome to the Jungle” 12 times in a row and never looked back.
Invader Zim: Most everyone knows this little cartoon by Jhonen Vasquez, the creator of “Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.” (Why they let him have his own kid’s show, I will never know. But I’m damn glad they did.) Probably the weirdest thing to show on Nickelodeon in recent years. Disturbed small children. They cancelled it, but it still shows on various NickToons super-cable channels. I have the first season on DVD.
Komodo dragons:
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Huge lizards that eat goats and have poisonous spit. Actually, the spit is not poisonous, it just has bacteria in it that get into the bite and keep it festering instead of healing. If you get bit by a Komodo dragon, your best bet is probably to get the area in question amputated. The young ones sit in trees so that the old ones will not eat them. I have loved these animals ever since I read “Last Chance to See,” by Douglas Adams.
Noise music: Just what it sounds like. Atonal, unmelodic, unstructured noises that have to be music, since they can’t be anything else. Best when it’s either semi-subliminal ambient stuff like Boris, particularly their Absolute Go, or freaky soundscapes like Wolf Eyes, particularly their “Village Oblivia”. I’ll do a YouSendIt on these someday.
Parodies: MAD Magazine used to be good at these (it’s started to suck recently). In my opinion, best when done as pastiches, exaggerated imitations of a thing or style without actually being mean-spirited. This is hard to do, but worth it.
Psychology: How people’s minds work, and how to maintain and fix them. Of natural interest to anyone who is interested in humans at all. One of my majors.
Royal Oak: A little suburb of Detroit that used to be filled to the brim with punks, Goths, and bikers every night. Cool shops, weird art galleries, trendy coffeeshops, interesting restaurants, and concert venues. Has become gentrified and yuppified up the ass, particularly since Cat’s Meow moved out and the Lofts moved in.
Temporal displacement: “Time travel,” in layman’s terms. I like saying it this way because it makes me feel smart.
Things that provoke thought: Self-explanatory. (I stole this interest from [livejournal.com profile] thatnoise. Thanks, Brian!)
VALIS: A book by Philip K. Dick that totally screwed with my head and made me want to convert to Gnosticism in 12th grade. (I didn’t, after I found out that the stuff about pink light, aliens, and parallel universes weren’t actually Gnostic text, just things he hallucinated.) Has two other books in the series: Radio Free Albemuth, which is said to be the rough draft for VALIS, and The Divine Invasion, which made me wobbly for three days after I read it. Good stuff.
Writing workshops: A good way to work on your writing and socialize all at the same time. Brainstorm, tell jokes, receive constructive criticism or get your ego stroked. It’s all good. I currently go to Fiction Collective (Sundays, 8 PM, Kaya), and will soon be going to Poetry Workshop (Wednesdays, 8 PM, not sure where yet).

One last thing: Bruce Campbell’s new movie The Man with the Screaming Brain will be on the Sci-Fi channel (channel 38 in my dorm) on Saturday September 10th, 8 PM Eastern. I am planning to go up to Video Land tonight and get a blank tape (and then convince my roommate to show me how to use her VCR) so that I can tape it, ‘cause I missed my chance to see it when they were showing it at the Royal Oak Art Theatre.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Rishathra--alien sex)
My rishathra icon made Warren Ellis throw up. I'm so proud.

So hey, I'm back! Did you miss me?
I'm posting a couple days early. I don't care. I break my own oaths easily, because the only person I'm swearing them to is myself, and in this case I don't particularly care whether I break it or not. Also I want to say hi to everyone.
Actually, even if I'd wanted to post anything significant on LJ in the past week, I couldn't have for much of it. My laptop's screen went dark on Thursday morning and didn't recover until Sunday morning...today. I used the computer lab in Larzelere for e-mail and a quick friendslist scan, but it's not pleasant to stay in there for very long; it's hot and noisy and the computers are slow and difficult to type on.

I rather enjoyed my time offline. I got a bit of a life, which I've been sorely lacking.

Tuesday was interesting; I went to my first Sociology 100 class. The prof, Larry Tifft, likes to ramble. He talked for three hours about whether it was morally acceptable to send your kids to daycare, the commodification of water vs. the commodification of air (despite what he thinks, they are two very different things, and I can explain why if anyone wants me to), and why it was so hard to find a good auto mechanic (he says it's deregulation--wha?). He never once backed up any of his opinions or ideas. The funny thing is that my absolute favorite prof last year, Matt Sheptoski, recommended this guy to me. Thinks he's a genius. Maybe Tifft has just gotten a little senile.

Wednesday, more classes, since I don't know what is going on with Poetry Collective yet. I think my Introduction to Literary Analysis may be boring. The prof is a nice guy, but he seems intent on dumbing everything down for the class and asking very elementary questions, things that should have been covered in high school. "What is irony?" "Does anyone know who Edgar Allen Poe was?" I hate this kind of thing; I can answer these questions easily, but giving a quick answer seems so...teacher's pet-ish. Bleh.
Sample discussion (about "The Cask of Amontillado"):
Prof: "Why did Montressor lock Fortunado in the dungeon? Is this the sign of a sane man?"
Me: (thinking, "Ah! A good question!") (raises hand) "Well, I think..."
Idiot in back of class: "Maybe he's schizophrenic! Hurr!"
I had a really good answer for that, too. Fuckers. Thing is that the idea of Montressor being paranoid schizophrenic could have been a good explanation, if you took the time to think it through, but the idiot at the back of class didn't, and spent the rest of the period trying to steal his friend's hat.

Thursday was D&D! As I told everyone last year, I am the treasurer of the MPGA, the Mount Pleasant Gaming Association. This is a largely useless role, put in only to pacify the requirements for an RSO (Registered Student Organization). Exactly one guy gave me the $5 required to be a member for both semesters. I doubt anyone else will, but who cares?
The game itself was fun.
Me: "I gonna play wizard!"
Everyone else: "You always play wizards. Play something else."
Me: "Ah man, do I have to?"
Everyone else: "YES. We already have a sorceror."
Me: "Damn. Who?"
Everyone else: (points to new guy)
New guy: "Hi!"
Me: "Damn you. I'll be a...(flips through character classes) monk. Okay."
So I'm an idealistic monk who thinks the king is corrupt. I have no spells, but I can flip out and kill people! Like a ninja! HIYAH.
I decided to make my character a guy, for once. The new guy didn't notice this and tried to make his character hit on me. (I'm the only girl in the campaign.)
New guy: "Are there any fine ladies on this ship?"
The DM: "No."
New guy: "What about her? (turns to me) Hey, baby!"
Me: (shows him character sheet) "Guy. I'm a guy. Male. See, under "sex"?"
New guy: "Oh. Well, you're cute anyway."
Actually, something happened last year that puzzled me a bit. I was a girl person playing a girl character; this was never commented upon. Matt (the DM for this game) played a girl character, and this was commented upon all the time. Bad sexist jokes, having other characters hit on her, the works. Neither of us played particularly girl-like characters; I was a fairly asexual mage, and Matt was an idealistic, powerful paladin. Would "Gender Dynamics in Role-Playing Games" be a good thesis?

Friday, I went to the Kaya and got chai tea and wrote. I write best in the Kaya, I think. Words flow from my Bic Z4 pen (I am very particular about my pens; I hate normal ballpoint pens, and most roller-ball pens are very scratchy...and forget gel pens, those are for doodling on notebooks with, not writing poems) like...oh, let's say like snot from the nose of a small child. The "flows like water" metaphor is so overdone. I got two pages done. I'm proud of what I've got so far. It's a new fandom, and I might be able to sneak it in as an original. Also am forming ideas for new original stories. Yay me.
I obsess over my writing a little. Everything I see or do is filed away for future use as a story idea or a detail. Does anybody else do this? And when I'm not writing or at least working out a story idea in my head, I get cranky and depressed. I have yet to convince myself that I don't have to be productive every second of the day.
Anyway, after I got back to the dorm, my roomie Sara bounded in, a little drunk. Freshies. She settled down on the couch, where I'd been watching "The Faculty" (it was on AMC all night, and I kept only catching the last half of it--I've seen the last half three times so far, and the first half none), and talked to me. We discussed movies, drinking (she promised to take me to the Wayside and get me drunk at least once this semester, an offer which I do not plan to take her up on, no matter how well-intentioned it was), and "Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

Saturday...ah, Saturday. I slept most of the day. Woke up at 3 and puttered around doing nothing for a while. (This is better than last year, when I could sleep until 6 PM on the weekends and be quite happy with it.) Then I wandered down to the Gay Punk Commie Church, where some of the MPGA people were doing a new role-playing game.
It turned out to be Vampire: The Masquerade. What's more, a Live Action Role Play. Yes, I am now a Vampire LARPer. My God. How geeky. I don't even like vampires that much.
But it was a fun game. Apparently, they've been playing this game for a few years, and there are a ton of new people this year.
I made my character as a 25-year-old novelist who was writing a kitschy Anne Rice-like novel about vampires and got a little too involved in her research. I suppose you could say it's unusually Mary Sue-ish for me, but the self-likeness came in handy during the game.
LARPing, I was surprised to discover, is basically acting. What's more, it's acting without a script or storyline; you have to sink very deeply into your character in order to be believable at all. Challenging. Granted, you have to do the same thing during a tabletop game, but the action and costumes and such lend the pretense much more depth.
I'm not a good actor, and never have been. I'm rather self-conscious in several terms of the sense; there seems to be a little switch inside my head that gets flipped whenever I've gotten too deeply into a character that makes me think, "What are you doing? This isn't you! You're not a vampire, or an idealistic monk, or a frustrated corpse, or an English maid! You're lying! Bad, bad you." Then I get self-conscious and giggle. Not a good thing to do in a LARP unless you are playing a character that giggles a lot anyway.
Other people can do this. Logan, who plays Garret (the Hound of the Vampire Prince), is very good at it. He can be dark and smooth and dangerous, and revert to an incredibly nice, personable, fun guy in real life. Same with Josh, who plays Christoff--Christoff is seductive and quiet, Josh is fairly loud and very enthusiastic about geeky things.
So I chose the novelist because it'd be easiest for me to play. Young, not used to vampires or being around vampires, curious (my Investigation skill score is high--maybe I should have picked a journalist?), and bookish. I can't play dark, so I'll just play dork.
The game involves a lot of soap-opera style politics. I'm going to have a hard time keeping up with things, but one of the other new players has informed me that he's going to take me along on dangerous missions so that I can get some good game-playing in without having to remember who's currently in favor with the Prince and whatnot.
The game is on alternating Saturdays, the first and third Saturdays of each month. The second and fourth Saturdays are White Wolf gaming, which is a game about werewolves and is apparently totally different. I'm going to check that out as well.

Which brings us to Sunday afternoon, where Rachel is preparing to get some munchies. I'm debating whether to go to the Kaya again and get some more writing done, or whether to sit in the dorm and watch "The Simpsons" and other cartoons all night. My horoscope says I should chillax today, but my horoscope also things I am under a great deal of stress from a recent illness, which I'm not. My horoscope don't know shit.
I suppose this will be determined by whether the UC is open. The Kaya has chai. Chai costs money. I have no money. I have an ATM card. The UC has an ATM. We shall see.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
I am the new treasurer (next semester) of the campus Dungeons and Dragons club. God, I feel nerdier just typing that. I've suddenly acquired thick glasses, a nasal whine, and a bunch of pocket protectors.
There's no particular reason I'm the treasurer. Not, like, I have any skill with money or anything. I happen to be one of the few members who's actually paid the five dollars, so I got to be the one to second the nomination for the new president, a guy named either "Chris P." or "Crispy" who later threw a temper tantrum because his DM wasn't going exactly by the rulebook. Yay. So after I looked up from my stolen tuna sandwich to go, "Okay, seconded," we took the vote for treasurer, and someone yelled, "I nominate whoever seconded Chris for president!" "Whoever seconded Chris" mumbled "Okay, sure" into her tuna sandwich, and there was a short chant of "All hail Rachel!" Soooo...I got hailed.
Anyway, here's what I inherited from Bekka the short blonde monk:
• 1 (one) bigass lockbox with "MPGA" (Mount Pleasant Gaming Association) in duct tape on it
• 1 (one) lock without a combination
• Thirty-six (not enough) dollars from the responsible gamers who actually paid for their memberships
• A lot ($78.86. apparently) of debts from the freeloading dice-chuckers who haven't paid up yet
• A bunch (paper!) of surveys about what we want from a gaming club (answers: More Cheetos, tequila, stop interrupting our battle)
• Some (five or six) reciepts from various gaming stores for die, etc.
• Two (2) random pewter dwarf figurines
• One (teeth!) staple remover
• A film canister with $1.26 (two quarters, five dimes, four nickels, six pennies) of change in it
• Some (two) pencils
• Someone's old copy of "The Red Badge of Courage" (Stephen Crane), which I'm going to keep
• A copy of the MPGA constitution (+4)

The game itself was particularly fun tonight. There's just something about a halfling head-butting a 350-pound dwarf into a river of acid for suggesting that she mate with an orc that never fails to make me laugh until I throw up my tuna and Mountain Dew. Also the dwarf actually shitting on the fighter that showed up to steer us around the Evil Scary Forest of Scary Evilness. The player's a nice guy...his character is just an incredibly amusing asshole.
There's a series of fantasy books where the plots are all RPed by the authors, aren't there? I feel that this is cheating. The minutiae of the plots of role-playing games are of most interest and entertainment to those who actually were there, rolled the die, and fought for the Mint Double-Stuf Oreos over the gaming board. There's a novel in this somewhere.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Wizardess)
The reading went quite well last night, even if it did run a bit short. People clapped enthusiastically, and I saw quite a few people there. There was not any banana bread this time but there were delicious cookies and sliced fruit.
I've got about ten copies of the "Review" here. After the reading, I went around collecting copies from people's empty seats. I did that the last time too, meaning to distribute copies to friends and relatives. Unfortunately, I forgot, and now there are eight or ten copies of old "Reviews" in my room at Mom's. If anyone would like a copy (not just my poem; you get a bunch of other nifty stories as a bonus! Plus possibly an old copy, once I get to Mom's), send me your address. I only have so many copies, but there are supposed to be a ton more scattered around campus.

The reading got out a little early, so I went back to the dorm to grab my D&D stuff and catch the last half of the game. Turns out my mage had spent the hour and a half getting some nifty new spells and a Bag of Tricks. Also, we'd run into another raven, but this one was evil (for those who don't remember, a mage named Dragus has been helping our group along, and he has a raven familar who caws helpfully). This raven is someone else's familiar, and whenver he shows up, bad things happen. Usually involving animals. For example, we got zerg-rushed by rats...then fought dinosaurs...then found some pigs. The pigs weren't really doing anything, just standing around being large and piglike until we attacked them. Our minds immediately went from "Kill it with fire" to "Barbecue." Josh and Matt, whose characters are extraordinarily virtuous, decided to kill the pigs and open up an orphanage so that they would have some orphans to feed the pigs to. They then spent a half hour discussing how much meat was on each pig, how much the meat would weigh, and how many orphans each pig would feed. They eventually determined that they could feed 8 orphans for 1.4 years on the pigs.
The fact that these orphans are hypothetical, in an imaginary game...does that make them double imaginary?

Am watching "Real Genius" on Comedy Central right now. Why does this movie remind me so much of "The Big U" by Neal Stephenson? The science club project, the insane college experiences, the profs...right now, I'm watching the bit where the antagonist student is talking with "Jesus" (actually the genius freshman with the hidden microphone). It's like the Big Wheel in the book, only without the whole thing about the bicameral mind.
'S a nifty movie though. Wish my college was like that.

It's come to my attention that today is April Fool's Day. Instead of typing out a prank or imaginary entry (see the January 27th "Rabbit Hole Day" entry for that), I'm going to give anybody who cares to take it an assignment. I've had two exams in the past two days, and am going to have more heavy assignments fairly soon, and I feel like dishing 'em out instead of taking 'em.

Essay/story question! Pick one or answer both for extra credit. Fifty points, no cheating, you have until the end of class.

1. Inspired by a conversation with [livejournal.com profile] drworm: Your evil twin (good twin, for those of you who identify as evil; opposite, for those of you who could care less either way) has somehow come to life. How did this happen? What are they like? What does he or she do? How do you stop them?

2. There has been some kind of apocalypse. Nuclear bomb, aliens attack, zombie plague, rampaging anarchists running through the streets, anything you care to think up. The infrastructure of society has collapsed. What do you do? How do you survive?
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
I awoke this morning from unsettling dreams to discover that I had turned into a giant insect. I am typing this with my antennae.
The good thing is that I did dream. I haven't had an actual dream for several months, and I was beginning to worry. Granted, they were dreams about brownies and skulls...but still dreams. I have, I swear, the weirdest sleep schedule. I will sleep for twenty hours on the weekends, wake up, eat dinner, and then go back to sleep for another twenty hours. I get nothing done during these times. Or I'll doze off for exactly one hour, wake up, stay awake for five minutes, then go back to sleep for exactly one hour. Repeat five times. It seems to work on the weekends. The problem is that I don't actually sleep during the weekdays, so by Thursday I am spazzy and bug my teachers with my slurping of coffee and constant pointed questions about the relative uselessness of Venn diagrams.

Did have an exhausting and enjoyable night last night, though. [livejournal.com profile] diraskyria quite kindly invited me to take place in her Arenythian role-playing game. She's worked out a very impressive system of races and spells corresponding with gods. I am now a Majani (mage), majoring in Red (spirit, which means I can twist time and fuck with people's minds), and minoring in Yellow (life, which means I get healing spells that give me excuses to kiss people) and Blue (offensive fire--SCORCHING RAY, SUCKAS!).
The beginning of the game was certainly the most interesting start I've ever done. You know how most RPGs begin with all the characters sitting around at an inn or a bar? (I wrote a story parodying this concept once. Unfortunately, I lost it.) We met at midnight by the sea and did not bother at all to introduce ourselves. We then all spontaneously tried to break into an old man's house, eventually did break in, killed him, and looted his house (we got some moldy blankets and a cabbage). The psycho character (more about him in a second) took out the old man's heart and replaced it with a wolf's heart that he just happened to be carrying around with him. This eventually led, the next day, to villagers thinking that the old man was a werewolf. Score one for reputation points (this is in lieu of Good/Evil alignments).
And then we burned down the house. In the glow of the firelight from the burning hovel, we were finally able to introduce ourselves.
Best. Campaign. Start. Ever. We are all going to the Arenythian equivalent of hell.
The characters are awesome as well. Laura herself, our lovely DM, is playing a strange teenaged wanderer that is either secretly some kind of monkey or is mentally about seven years old (but he is so CUTE). We also have a somewhat nondescript dwarf, a haughty Drin (a Drin is like an elf, but they have tufts of hair on their ears. They hate most other races and want everyone to go live in the woods like hippies), a mage who is laid-back to the point of stupidity (me! But I have an intelligence score of 16. I love my d6), a psycho character that is a psycho badass because he went through the equivalent of Full Metal Jacket training with some lizard people, and a cranky old geezer centaur mage whose accent wanders between Sean Connery and an old Jewish guy.
Our mysterious quest is to kill anyone who is loyal to a certain king. I got no problem with that. Don't know why the king and his followers should be killed, and I don't think my mage really cares so long as she can hum in an annoying fashion at midnight.

Well, I am off to Sunday brunch in the dining commons. Cheesy eggs are calling my name, to go with the crab rangoon I had last night. I am going to spend the day working on "From The Gods" (I need 250 words by tonight and I've only got 109), my super-special RPS fic, and the next part of the fanfic chain. Bwahahahaha.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
Was going to bring in “Inspired By” to Poet's Collective. Did bring in “Inspired By” to Poet's Collective. Spent $0.50 printing out copies. Buuuuut when I got up to the room in the U.C., it was dark and there was nobody there. Waited around for twenty minutes. Still nobody there. It was listed on the e-mail I got, it was listed right outside the room, everything. I know I wasn’t at the last meeting. Was it just cancelled and nobody bothered to tell me or send me an E-mail? Did everybody just forget or decide to not go? I’m pissed off about this.
On the bright side, I did get to waste twenty minutes slumping in the hall and listening to someone’s TV show about five ethnically diverse young aspiring pop culture icons shopping for each other. Bleh. After the first five minutes I stuck my fingers in my ears and worked on making up dialogue for my vaguely outlined Re-A/Willard crossover. Eventually realized that most of it sounded like I’d ripped it off of Douglas Adams and was totally out of character. I think I’ve watched the H2G2 movie trailer too many times.
I’ve also been seriously thinking (again) about a sequel to “Reeling Off The Years.” It’ll probably intertwine three narratives: George in college, Marty in college, and George’s renewed relationship with Junie (and to a lesser extent, Phil and Kevin). Some of the ideas I’m having for it are things that I really could fit into an original story instead, but it’s going to be interesting to apply it to the characters. Anyway, there’s no law that says I can’t reuse ‘em later. If I do, and I get published, and one of my adoring fans discovers all that fanfic I wrote when I was in college, it’ll be a nice surprise for them. < /dreaming>
ETA: Oh, and fuck, no Fiction Collective tonight either ‘cause of the snowstorm. (Yes, we have a snowstorm. See weather rant at bottom of entry.) No chai for me, but that just means I’ll have time to make sure “From the Gods” actually is 250 words like I promised.

Cut for psychological TMI )

Confronted my past in the Thursday campaign. The backstory for my mage hasn't been very important in the game so far, but it came into play during the Test. (She had to take a test to let the Mage Council, because apparently there is one, know that she was worthy to be a mage and wouldn't be hunted down.)
Thought it'd be a typical test of strength where I fry monsters with Magic Missile. Boy, did I ever underestimate the DM's imagination there. Instead of killin' grues, I got to go through my backstory, complete with the grandma who went crazy because she settled down and had a family instead of training her talent, the mom who lovingly kicked me out to learn second-rate magic from a family friend, the older brother banishing me from the family because of the Evil Demons that made me magic (but only after the parents died and he convinced me it was my fault). After that, I had to resist an evil voice that encouraged me to forget the quest, to forget the other players, to forget my Destiny of saving the world, to join it and take power instead. That the world wouldn't care if I saved it. That I'd end up alone, stoned by the villagers and burned at the stake.
I passed the test, of course. Told the voice that I didn't want to be an evil mage and that I just wanted to do good. (I am Lawful Good, after all. Wouldn't have been in character.) But jeez, Josh, way to accidentally hit on my real-life insecurities. Way to coincide there, life! Couldn't have done it better myself if I had been writing a YA novel.
Y'know, I bet I am a character in a YA novel. I bet all this coming-of-age stuff is a story arc, and the last eighteen years of my life were just backstory. After this semester is over, the story will end and I will cease to exist. Except in fanfiction, possibly, and wouldn't it just be too fucking weird and too fucking perfect if I was actually in a fanfic? If none of this was canon? And in that case, who's the Mary Sue? There's got to be a Mary Sue around here somewhere. Show yourself, you sparkly-haired, lightning-orbed minx.

ETA: Just talked to Ben. For five minutes. And he's only an hour away and we still can't see each other. One hour is far too little, especially when at least five other people on my friendlist are having rapturous reunions with people who live much farther away. Hello, people who are having rapturous reunions. I hope you are having a nice time.
And when Brian and Dad are in Florida. Florida. With...palm trees and shite. And air that doesn't actually freeze your lungs. I'm missing a much-needed dose of family bonding and meteorological benevolence because the Michigan educational system didn't bother to correlate their spring breaks.
Actually, I could care less about the palm trees if I got to go home and see people. Or go to Texas or Maryland or Ohio or Arizona or England or wherever the fuck you are (you know who you are) and see people.
Instead I'm listening to Steely Dan (this takes care of the palm trees, because listening to "Walk Between the Raindrops" makes palm trees, blue water, and art-deco skyscrapers appear unbidden before my eyes) and rereading old conversations on Yahoo (yay for message archiving). And ignoring my Econ, which is really more of an immediate problem than not being in Florida playing ping-pong with my brother. I don't want to fail Econ. On the other hand, I don't want to do Econ, and I want to play ping-pong among the palm trees.
If crushing malaise and vague loneliness at 3 AM is the worst my life ever gets, I should consider myself lucky.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
So I'm inspired now. Not for "From the Gods," sadly, because that one is probably never going to get done and is really intimidating me.
Instead, fic. Much fic. Brainstorming sessions in the middle of conversations, y'know.
I was going to whine about how badly I was doing on the Marty/Marty, but now I have a really really good idea of the AU character. What I must do now is figure out scenarios, situations, and precisely how he'd react to other characters and how they'd react to that--while getting normal!Marty used to his new surroundings. Ah well, nobody ever said good fanfic would be easy. But it's going to be fun.
I've also got some newish ideas--crossovers. "Clerks" with "River's Edge", back when Jay and Silent Bob were still slightly scary drug dealers. I think I'm the only one that's bothered by how much they changed during the Askew cycle. Jay turned into a cute blonde idiot whose edgiest characteristic was saying "fuck" a lot. Bob turned into a Kevin Smith Mary Sue who just happened to not talk. I know that FuzzyCouple!Jay/Silent Bob are pretty damn popular and fun to read and write about, but...I liked them when they were scary. In any case, I've got to watch both movies to get the characters right, whatta sacrifice. It's going to be fun to let them bounce off each other.
Oh, and we have "Re-A"/"Willard". Zombie rats. Well, wouldn't you like to have cute soft indestructible rat zombie slaves? I know I would.

What else, what else, what else. Well, my mage is in trouble. See, the new D&D campaign I'm in is set in a world where magic is viewed as demonic and the gods are not believed in. Our groups is following an army of orcs and strange people in cloaks who are killing people; the orcs and cloak people are apparently followers of an Evil Lord, whose insignia seems to be an eye with an arrow in it. The Evil Lord is following in the footsteps of another Evil Lord (or he might be the same one) who also used orcs and cloak people. He was defeated many years ago by three heroes, a ranger, a paladin, and a mage. The mage is the least famous of these heroes. Kind of like Ringo. The problem is that our party has been having communal bad dreams about an evil mage, and they're going to think I'm in league with him. I've got Silent Spell and Still Spell, which allow you to cast a spell without anyone else seeing or hearing it, but I cast Mage Armor right before a battle without using them and everybody saw me. Aaaaand then one of the cloak guys exploded, which was totally not my fault. But it's WITCHCRAFT!!!!! So I've got to either make a really good excuse for flipping around my hands and saying strange things (considered saying that I was crazy and talking to myself, but that's not going to work--we're in the woods. "What was that odd thing you did back there?" "Oh, don't worry about it, I am just crazy." "Great, crazy person! You can take second watch.") or I have to find a really good way to explain about magic and convince them that I am Not Bad. Suggestions are welcomed. Oh, and we're also being followed around by a raven who shows us where the orcs are and who I'm pretty sure is either the good mage in disguise or is a servant of the good mage.

Other stuff...went to Video Land, got some movies. "Evil Dead" (first one only, sadly), "Night of the Living Dead" (more zombies!), "Chuck and Buck" (recommendation), "Full Metal Jacket" (been meaning to see it), "River's Edge" (for said crossover and just 'cause it's an awesome movie), and "Naked Lunch" (I want to see how the hell this is going to work, I've already read the book and it's totally impossible).

Three Talking Heads songs that go together really nicely:
"Our House In The Middle Of The Street"
"Burning Down The House"
"Beds Are Burning"

This mood icon is incredibly amusing. I feel like zombie rodents.
kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)
As it turns out, I have really extreme reactions to any and all stimulants. Aspirin makes me float around like Valium, and a tiny bit of caffeine will have me shaking and sweating for hours. I don't like this. I want to be able to drink tea and cure my pain without coming over all drunk and wired. I wonder what actual alcohol would do? I'd probably have hallucinations or something. Jeez.

Oh, and there's a survey over on [livejournal.com profile] gyr_falre's LJ that I am too lazy to edit for spelling, capitalization, etc. to post in my own LJ. Complete and answer if you feel like it. Or just take a few questions, or add your own, or tell me what you really think about me.
Or what you had for lunch. I had lunch at 2 AM a couple of hours ago. It was a bagel with tuna, tomato slices, and provolone cheese, all stolen from the cafeteria. They say you're supposed to only take ONE (1) Ice Cream Treat OR (not AND) piece of fruit from the cafeteria, but I've got this thing made and toasted and wrapped up in a napkin. What are they going to do, forcibly remove it from my pocket? (Big pockets.) And someone in my D&D group has worked out that with my meal plan, I am paying $9.75 for each meal, many of which I do not even eat. Or my dad is, because he bought the meal plan for me.

I levelled up my mage character in the D&D campaign (yes, I play, every Thursday night in the UC cafeteria from 6 to 11, bring five bucks and a pencil to join). Apparently, I'd been playing a level 4 with level 3 stats because I had been misinformed as to levelling formulas. I got up to level 6 in the course of the game, thanks to an imp, a thing that came up out of the ground, and some brownies (glowing lights all around; when the DM informed me of this, I first thought she was referring to special brownies and that the glowing lights would go away if I got some sleep). My character has been developing a personality; she's naive and not as evil as the other characters. Her parents paid for her magical instruction, and she really chose an evil alignment to try and be rebellious--she hasn't done anything evil yet. However, she did go to her parents' house (they are cheese merchants) and ask for money. They made her milk a cow and she got 50 EXP points while everyone else was running around in the town fighting commoners and burning down houses and getting arrested. My little mage had to bail them out.

Have been oddly lazy lately, and I want to work on projects (NaNo! "From the Gods"! That untitled bit about the professor!), but I cannot bring myself to type. I don't know why. Usually, it's like morphine to me while I write--it takes me out of myself, so to speak. But it's a chore lately to think of what to write next, and I don't like that. I want to figure out how to get myself back into a writing mood.

Good news--Kathryn. From across the hall. She's a terribly nice girl, likes D&D, fantasy, and complaining about cafeteria food. Short, wears men's clothes and T-shirts with animals on them. Very short blonde hair (I seem to be attracted to girls with short blonde hair).
She and I tend to meet up in the cafeteria, then go to her room or my room and spend hours talking. The last time we did this (Friday), we started cuddling. It happened fairly slowly, like continental drift--an arm resting on a stomach, reclining against the wall, a hand on the shoulder, a leg moved to rest against another. She started smiling; I mentioned this, and she said that she missed physical contact up at college. I then told her that I was working up the courage to kiss her.
As it turned out, that was her first kiss. Ever. I mean, NEVER EVER been kissed, and she's eighteen. She told me before that she didn't think her hormones had kicked in yet.
It was not a terribly romantic kiss, more of a friendly one than anything. Almost Platonic. And she hasn't brought it up again, and me being a big fat chicken when it comes to sex I haven't said anything either.

In unrelated news, Daniel claims to have had a hand in the development of every time travel device ever created. With help from David Bowie. Good work, mate.

And it turns out that someone I was terribly worried about is not in fact dead. This is a great relief and I may be able to wake up without a stomachache again.

Also--Chai tea from the Kaya coffeehouse is sexloveThanksgiving in a cup, and tastes damn good with whipped cream. I feel deeply sorry for anyone who is unable to get this particular blend of tree-hugging hippie ambrosia.


kleenexwoman: A caricature of me looking future-y.  (Default)

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