girls heart sci-fi
SPIKE: (driving Giles's car) "You picked up a tail."

FYARL!GILES: "Only a little one. It hurts when I sit."

ME: "How is it possible I never caught this joke before?! All the times I've watched this episode? Only a little one! It hurts when I sit! Haaaaaaaaa omg HA!" *ded from laughing*

Guys I really want to start posting again but it is hard to keep up when life is so exciting!

I have so many stories to tell.


nine lives and i used them all
I've been lurking and thinking thoughts and planning to comment on interesting fandom stuff... and suddenly it's two days from High Sierra Music Festival. Ooops. Here have a story about my Real Life instead!

After more than a year of talking about it, my boyfriend finally took me (on the solstice!) to play disc golf at a course that runs through redwood forest. It was my third time ever playing, and I had high expectations for myself because I made a spectacular putt on the very last hole the second time I ever played.

I made some decent shots on the first couple of holes, relying on Wonderboyfriend – who is, of course, really good at this and knows the first half of the course pretty well – to tell me where to aim because none of the pins are within eyeshot of the tees. Got to hole number three, made that first blind drive, so far so good. Found disc in the trees, boy pointed, I threw. Started to look like a nice throw, then dropped off really hard left and vanished into a steep hillside covered in underbrush, some of which was almost certainly poison oak. Harumph.

"Here, try that again with this," said Wonderboyfriend, and tossed me my (his) putter. I thought that was weird, weren't we still too far to be throwing putters? But I hucked it anyway and it crashed into some trees on the right about the same place the first disc dove left.

I stomped off to search for my wayward discs but only got two steps before the pin, not twenty feet away from me and right in front of my boyfriend, caught my eye. "Oh!" I said, pointing at it. "It was right here…" Okay now I really feel like an idiot.

"I was wondering where you were aiming with those…"

"I didn't see it at all!" I cried, and the damn sneaky surprise embarrassment was making me tear up, so I hustled off to find the discs before the waterworks could start. When boyfriend came over to help search for the uphill disc, I avoided eye contact and went after the downhill disc.

"Any luck?"

"Nooo…" it was okay to sound a little sulky as long as I didn't sound blubbery.

In a few minutes boyfriend found my putter and strolled down the hill, spinning my disc in his fingers, to help me search for the driver. I had taken a few deep breaths and got the tears blockaded by then. But we were in a tricky and unpleasant patch of woods, steep and shady and all tangly underbrush… soon my wise and patient man said, "We're losing daylight, we'd better just keep going. I have another driver you can use." He has like twenty discs and was carrying probably half of them right then.

"Awww," I said – double disappointment, I've never actually lost a disc before – but turned toward the trail to stomp onward.

"Baby, don't worry about it, it's only a disc."

"Argh… dammit…" Just like that, I'm flowing like a fountain. I get so overwhelmed by being loved and understood when I am trying to suck it up and be cool!

"If you start crying about this I'm gonna kick your ass," he said, picking up his step to catch up to me and peer at my face.

"Shut up!" He was still holding the putter. I snatched it and held it up to hide my face. "Don't look at me, I'm serious! I was fine until you started talking!"

"You mean until I said, 'it's okay, it's only a disc'?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

He laughed at me, and I laughed too. Crying.

But I'm heavy lifter, Mister Mountain Man

you want a piece of this?
Saw a big sign over somebody's garage on my way home from work yesterday: "Congratulations Jules! The Pride of Squaw Valley". It made my heart, which was already swollen with love for my mountain after a weekend of getting some really sweet powder turns in on the clock, fill to bursting. Skiing is the biggest thing in my world right now.

Watching the winter Olympics this year has been about a million times cooler than all the previous Olympics i've enjoyed. I've always watched icons become champions – now friends of friends are winning medals. Julia Mancuso and I learned to ski on the same slopes. And I can't help thinking it's growing up on the scary terrain of Squaw Valley that enabled Julia to fearlessly charge down that sketchy Downhill course that destroyed so many other competitors.

It's only this year that I've started getting off of my beloved Squaw and exploring the other resorts around here (there are 16 in the mountains around Lake Tahoe, the guidebooks say, although I could only name 13 when I tried to count for myself) and it turns out that I am pretty badass on any other mountain. At Squaw I'm okay – I can hold my own and go just about anywhere, but I can't throw a snowball without hitting someone who's a waaaaay better rider. Now I go to other mountains and say, "They call this a black diamond? HA!" But even at Alpine Meadows, which is just the next mountain over from Squaw -- very similar terrain only never deforested as Squaw originally was – it was just this past storm that I followed my badass snowboarder boyfriend into some trees just off the lift and was amazed that there were hardly any tracks from people passing through ahead of us. "Why doesn't anyone come in here?" I asked. "Are these trees that tight? It's not steep." Tight trees mean you have to stay in control and make lots of turns. For me, that's no big deal until it gets really steep. Wonderboyfriend said yes, that's exactly why. Because there aren't that many people on the mountain who have the skill or the confidence to ski this line. The only time that happens at Squaw is when it's a weekend and we haven't had any good snow, so all the locals are staying home. The bar at my mountain is always set very high. Which is probably why we had like six athletes competing this year! I'm more proud of Squaw than I've ever been of the old USA.

And I told my boyfriend that I would be down for a threesome with Julia Mancuso anytime. He laughed but I think it's possible.

(No cable – have been watching Olympics via torrents, so I'm way behind and still watching. But it's worth it anyway just to get the European feeds of so many events. They show every single competitor! Unlike fucking NBC, where they start by showing the Americans and then go, oh yeah, and here are some highlights from the run of the guy who just took first place away from our good old uhmurican heroes while we were on commercial. WTF.)

Any road, the Winter Olympics are much more exciting than they used to be because snow and slopes are languages I have learned to read and I understand what those racers are putting their bodies through. Like chick who lost her goggles in the middle of her Giant Slalom run with big, wet, Pacific Northwest snowflakes slamming down – I am in awe that she not only stayed on her feet, she got between all the remaining gates and finished without disqualifying. She was blind, guys, and not passively blind, her eyeballs were being violently attacked all the way to the bottom. I won't even walk across the parking lot in snow like that without my goggles on!

We've had a lot of snow here in Lake Tahoe this winter. Lots more than last year, and apparently lots more than Vancouver, too. The past couple weeks it's snowed so much that even other basic survival tasks have been put on extended hold because the pow won't wait. Now it's supposed to be warm for a week and I'm kind of relieved. I have big piles of wood to split and dishes to wash. I love mountain living! Last winter I got into the best shape of my life, and if i could arm wrestle my last-winter self right now i'd crush her. My arms are so sexy. Amazing how winter does that.

But Daylight Savings Time all of a sudden flipped the switch from 'Winter's Gonna Last Forever' to 'Spring's Almost Here!' I'm sad, winter has been wonderful - and it's really not over yet! But my knees will appreciate the end of ski boot season and the start of climbing shoes, and sunshine sure does feel good on the skin.


anyone still there?

you want a piece of this?
The internet is bigger than I left it. I think I must return slowly and gently.

But I know the time is right; riddering and I used to fantasize together about getting our hermit on in quiet little cabins (equipped with high-speed internet) in the woods… and here I am.

Not exactly in a secluded forest, but in a small mountain town, anyway, in a cabin with a woodstove and a loft bedroom accessed by ladder and a really nice little kitchen and a washer and dryer and even a cat! The internet connection here is sometimes a little sketchy, but mostly it works. What more could I ask for? The interwebz and I are due for some quality time.

The cat, who is a small, black-with-white-paws-and-chin ferocious beast who refused to come inside at all for the first three days I was here even though one of those nights it snowed and there are coyotes and raccoons the size of labrador retrievers out there, is now purring on my lap. Thug life. His name is LG. My sister thinks it stands for Little Gangsta. It must be true.

Sister found three one hundred-year-old books in her laundry room the other day. One of them is The Girl Aviators' Sky Cruise by Margaret Burnham. It's the third in a series and I just finished reading the first few pages of Chapter 2, wherein the first two books are summarized. Pretty Peggy Prescott has already vanquished greedy landowners, recovered family jewels, outraced trains, thwarted outlaws, rescued wanderers and reunited families with a little help from her brother and some of their friends. I can't wait to see what she manages in this book! It's all worn and yellowed and smells like the darkest corner of the library. Everything else I'm reading may just have been put on hold.

I've been tearing through Tom Robbins novels lately. How come no one told me about Tom Robbins before, dudes?

But I'm taking a break and reading only books by the ladies for the rest of '09. And listening only to female musicians. (Recs welcome!)

It's a good time for this because my Wonderboyfriend is sailing down the coast all the way to the bottom of the Baja peninsula in Mexico and I won't see him until Christmas. I always seem to post while he's away somewhere. But that's promising for my odds of being around to devote some real energy to this internet thing again! Sweeeeet.


I Got My Computer Back

nine lives and i used them all
I got my computer back! I got my computer back, i got my computer back.

I got my computer back.

I got my computer back, I got my computer back, she's mine!

Dear Internets,

girls heart sci-fi
I've been gone so long. I am ashamed.

I miss you, I do, I miss fandom like crazy. But my internet access comes and goes as it pleases, even when my computer is accepting a charge from the male part of the plug. Which it currently is not. The female part has started eating the new plugs at an alarming rate.

I think my little Pythia is at the end of her life. She lasted just long enough (and i mean just long enough, it was the biggest thing she did on what may turn out to have been the last time she was On) for me (and my Wonderboyfriend! He watched three and a half seasons in a few months to catch up to me in time for 'The Oath') to watch the series finale of BSG.

I crashed my car (my beloved little civic, Anya) on my way to work that morning. It was totally fucking stupid; it was April and we'd just had a little snowstorm, but i'd been driving up to my mountain on snowpack in raging blizzards with chains on my tires before dawn all winter. I wasn't worried about a little dirty ice with clear lanes of pavement showing through on a sunny spring morning that would melt all this stuff in a couple of hours anyway. Which is why i slid off the road and into a big rock by the 7-11 parking lot fifteen minutes away from my house.

Let's not think about that morning. Aside from feeling like the most awful moron, everything went quite smoothly and when my Wonderboyfriend and SuperRoommate had brought me home, 'Daybreak, Part 2' was waiting for me.

Let me go to another world and think about someone else's problems for a while, I saidCollapse )

Actually i do now think the car crash was for the best, just as one of a few necessary reminders that money is still too tight for this trip to Mexico to be a very good idea. I was never sure it was quite doable, but i would have gone anyway -- i wasn't at all sure it was doable when Little Sister and i set out to seek our fortunes almost a year ago, either, and that's all turned out just brilliant.

But on the day before we left (I'm at my mom's house in Florida now) another door opened unexpectedly, one that means returning to Tahoe for at least a few more months. Since i've been gone, two more things have happened to push us (that is, the Wonderboyfriend and me) toward Door Number Two. As long as the door holds up its end, at this point, we're ready to walk through it.

I'm so happy about this. My sister is staying in Tahoe, after all. Also i think my chances of getting internet access are much, much higher.

But i can't make you any promises right now, internets. I don't know when i'll be able to come back to you or how much time i'll have when i do. I just want you to know i'm thinking about you, and that you shouldn't worry about me when i disappear. Life is just keeping me busy, and i am enjoying myself tremendously.

I do wish someone would make a Battlestar Galactica (i've been typing it so rarely it feels good to write it all the way out!) vid to this David Ford song. Remember when we saw him in Atlanta, octopedingenue ?


nine lives and i used them all

I am so proud. I love you, America!

Oh fucking eight, what a year.

What a NIGHT! I'm so glad, so glad, so glad, that this wasn't dragged out. McCain was, as many have said, mature and gracious in his concession and it was refreshing to see.

When Obama spoke I wept. We do have a chance now to make things better. And for the first time in a long time, I really do have hope that we might seize that chance. We need a leader to bring us together.

Today we all woke up in a new world. This is reality: Barack Obama is the President-Elect (what a sexy title) of the United States of America. You might as well get used to writing and saying this: President Obama!!

And to calling a black man Commander in Chief. FUCK YEAH!


All You Need Is

girls heart sci-fi
I know it is so lame that every time I post these days it is at least in part to say, "Still alive!"

But I have been busy, Dear Flist. I have been busy falling in love. At the end of August my beautiful boyfriend brought me to Burning Man and constantly wore a camelback full of water and warm layers for both of us and often my journal and some pens too, and we rode our silly, bright bikes all twisted up with lights across the playa to whatever caught our attention. When we sat out in the dusty dark, sharing water and looking at all the crazy glowing burning bumping art exhibits and camps and cars we could check out next, I felt like Rose with the keys to the TARDIS.

And only a couple of days after we got back, we flew to Florida together, to my mom's house, to empty my sister's and my storage unit and fetch my car. I felt like that house in Florida brought out the teenage bitch in me, but the Duder never stopped smiling at me like he does, and he was a short angel of carrying heavy things (especially 23 boxes of books) and efficiently packing them into appropriate vehicles when we dealt with the shit in storage.

After that it was a roadtrip in a very packed car with too high a ratio of time spent driving to time spent in one place having fun, and we didn't just kick its ass; we both loved practically every minute. It was an adventure -- seems like everything is, with him, you can see how he got me (adventure and good food, actually), but this time llamas were involved.

I started writing a whole post about how great he is and it very quickly became longer than anyone but me would want to read. Suffice it to say I've met my match. (He just this moment sent me a text to say, "Of course I was right!" about Skinny Legs and All which I just admitted was getting as good as he'd promised.) And I believe in fairy tales and stupid stuff -- okay, I always did, but now I believe with a sense of triumph like Mac Guy in Galaxy Quest when The Commander tells him it's all real. And if I listed the fictional romances witch now remind me of myself and my Duder, you wouldn't even believe me. He should be fictional, he is that impossibly awesome, my lover.

So you'll forgive me for being distracted! But he's away again (mostly it's easier now I know where we stand) and so I have some quality internet time coming up. Get ready, my pretties!

See, I Really Haven't Given Up!

My beloved Bleach buddies, I have posted an update to division15 ! And jaina is making me work on the next one, which is the one you really want to see. With the smut. It's 16 pages long right now. Fortunately I am feeling smutastically inspired these days! *g*

Although this amazing boy of mine is STILL gone. Rar. He got to come back briefly last Sunday and it was wonderful and we've been on the phone a lot so I'm not insecure about it but I fucking wish he were back already.

But I did get stuff done in his absence. Including finally finishing my reread of Animorphs #3 which I now have a fic bunny for, thanks a lot, Tobias. You'll never guess guys, it's a Rachel/Marco idea. I always did want to see inside that tank while they were all treading water. Rachel and Marco fall out of it together. *eyebrow waggle* And there's a continuity flub in there that needs ficcing. Got my work cut out for me!
ed done cannot be undone
I'm looking through the new course catalog for Brown, trying to remember for a resume exactly what classes I took, and now I am WAY JEALOUS of all the kids who are still there getting to take all these amazing courses!

Check this out:
Visual Literature: Pictures of the Page
This class examines how novels (and other texts) make use of the visual field of their pages. How do we read a sentence differently from a comic strip or a picture with caption? Readings include Tristram Shandy, Dickens and his illustrators, W.G. Sebald and contemporary comic books (Watchmen, The Sandman).

Why wasn't that a class when I was there?

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May 2012



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