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Young minds warped? Check.
Today was the second day of my theatre for youth workshop...this is good because it means there's only four more to go before I get paid. It's a small group (only 6 kids), but for the most part they're attentive and want to be there, which makes my job easier. The exception would be the kid that's MAYBE 10 who has the attention span of, well, a 10-year-old boy. This irks me because the advertisements specifically said 11 and up, and he's distracting for me and for the other kids who are 14 or 15. I had no idea this kid was going to show up (his mom didn't call and let us know she was interested), so I geared my program for the kids I knew about. Everything is way over his head and he obviously doesn't want to be there.
Anyway, it's not been too bad. I've been exhausted this week...those classes in the mornings, afternoons doing costume repairs and such (how many times can you tear the seat of your pants?!), evening rehearsals for Cuckoo's Nest, up late attempting to squeeze in some writing and relaxation time, up early putting together the program and copying scenes for the kids. Argh.
To top it all off I think I have an OotP hangover or something...I have another book lined up to read, but I can't make myself start it just yet. I need detox.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Wednesday, June 25, 2003 06:32 p.m.
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Mirror, mirror on the wall, who was the first Potter to fall?
Jesus, now I'm rhyming. Shoot me now.
Thorne, I believe this will answer your question about the whole Harry's-wand-meets-Voldemort's-reverse-spell-booboo thing. In fact, that site will answer pretty much any question anyone could ever have about the world of HP, God bless 'em.
I don't believe I've eaten since this morning. I should do something about that.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Tuesday, June 24, 2003 10:05 p.m.
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Pottermania
Alright, prepare for a rather lengthy entry, most of which involves my thoughts on OotP, typed up separately and pasted here in white to avoid ruining the book for those who haven't read it. Highlight at your own peril.
First, however, a snippet of Gilgamesh. I know I promised you bits of dialogue a week ago...but I fleshed this little section out some and decided to post it here. Keep in mind it is very, very rough...this was just dialogue without narrative a mere day ago.
So, without further delay, my rant/rave about Order of the Phoenix:
There was an article on MSN.com a mere 24 hours after OotP was released, asking if the new Potter book was worth the wait. I would have to heartily answer yes (as a friend of mine said upon finishing, "Holy shit, yo!"). The book was everything I was led to expect: it was the next step in the many journeys that are the Harry Potter series: Harry's journey against evil, his journey into adulthood, and the journey of the reader's own growing up. It was pivotal. It was markedly darker. There can be no return to the pre-adolescent, jubilant adventures of the infamous Hogwarts Trio.
Man, does J.K. know how to write a fifteen-year-old. Reading through Harry's mutinous thoughts, desperate moments, and fits of (nearly) unfounded rage, I had a faint sense of déjà vu. Harry has quite the temper (I'm glad-maybe it's the short-fused Scot in me), and while he's always managed to get angry, it carries more weight now. He's literally experienced hell, which is more than most of the humdrum Ministry twits who oppose him have gone through. Besides, a fifteen-year-old can bellow quite effectively. An eleven-year-old cannot. When Harry was railing against the opression of two of the most insufferable characters I've ever read, I was railing right along with him I still want to throttle Dolores Umbridge. She got off easy, in my mind. And thank God Cornelius Fudge has semi-come to his senses. I have a feeling he'll be a weak point in the fight later on, though, so I still vote to kill him NOW. At least Dumbledore kicked his ass a couple times. I hope somebody does the same to Bellatrix Lestrange.
Also, the Trio is no longer just that: Neville, Ginny and Harry's adult friends are stepping up to more major roles (more Lupin, hooray), as are characters to whom we were just intoduced, like Luna Lovegood.
May I say here that the thestrals are the coolest damn things in the entire book? I kept getting images of the ghostly horses from the Night on Bald Mountain sequence in Fantasia. You can bet I'd draw one of them if I could draw horses worth a damn.
Ginny is the second best thing, mostly because she has a BACKBONE. Awesome. Though I can sense a new wave of Hermione/Ginny fanfic flooding FF.net as I type...
Anyway, it's a good thing J.K. keeps introducing new characters, because if the second war has begun, I'm sure we can expect more than one death per book from now on. Speaking of which, before I go into my rant about who actually died, I need to rant about the fact that I went into this book knowing someone was going to kick the can, so whenever someone was severely injured, I found myself not breathing for the next three pages or so until I found out they were making a full recovery, at which point I cursed under my breath, cheered loudly, and returned to reading. This applied to Dudley, Hagrid, Arthur, McGonagall, Hermione, Neville, Ron, Mad Eye.
Of course, I had run across this pattern so often that by the time Harry had his vision about Sirius being in danger, I passed it off as Hermione did: a ploy to get Harry to do something stupid. So while Harry's squad and the Order were dropping like flies there at the Department of Mysteries, I never once thought Sirius would catch it. He'd been developed quite a bit throughout the book, I thought, why waste all that and kill him off?
WRONG.
I had to re-read that paragraph twice before I started bawling my eyes out. I had to re-read the entire end of the book because I missed so much while I was sobbing at four in the morning. I'm not going to be able to read Sirius fanfic for quite a while. I'm not even going to go into how lonely Harry will probably be-and how big a role his friends will have to play to keep him afloat.
After finally processing the entire ending, prophecy included, it dawned on me that Dumbledore is very, very expendable. I have a sneaking suspicion that he'll pull an Obi-Wan Kenobi in the last book. Though my suspicions have been wrong before...there was nothing much to support my sock theory in this book. Phooey.
I guess what impressed me most about the book was how far both Harry and J.K. have come. My utmost respect for her ability to write human good guys, sympathetic guys who hover in the grey area, and despicable bad guys. I would never have had the patience to write Dolores Umbridge. I would have killed her off almost immediately had she ever even made it to the page. My respect, also, for being able to let the good guys go. I hated that Sirius died, but if there's one thing I've learned in reading and writing, and in theatre: the stories that stick with me are the stories that have twists and turns that I hate. I have less of a problem killing off my heroes than I do writing villains who don't fall into the tragic hero category. What can I say, I like tragic endings.
That's not to say I want the prophecy to take that turn.
So, until the next installment is released, I'll write my fanfic and pray that maybe it took so long to publish OotP because J.K. wanted to get a chunk of Book 6 done, first. Jesus God, don't make me wait three more years.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Monday, June 23, 2003 07:17 p.m.
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Argh.
Okay...finished OotP last night (well, I'm sure it counts as early, early this morning). Prepare yourselves:
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH.
I'm not yet articulate enough this morning to express what that means. It's not a bad "argh," necessarily, just a very anguished one. I feel quite sure that I'll type something up and post it in a spoiler-safe place on here, but I can't make my fingers type certain things just yet, the events of the book being one of them.
I need coffee. -_-;;
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Monday, June 23, 2003 10:17 a.m.
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Eeeeaaaaaaa.
Thought I'd take a break to come up for air after two hundred pages or so of OotP.
Mom keeps mumbling at me as she passes. I think she thinks I'm a dork. I'm not arguing.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Saturday, June 21, 2003 04:49 p.m.
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Torture. Sheer torture.
A member of our cast (who shall remain nameless) has managed to procure OotP two days early and had the audacity to read the damn thing backstage tonight. It was a FOOT AWAY FROM ME, whispering at me to read it over her shoulder. No, I said to myself, I've kept away from spoilers and such this long, I will not fall victim to temptation this late in the game!
Then this cast member almost missed a cue. "Ack! Hold this!" he/she said, thrusting the book into my greedy little hands as he/she ran onstage. I shut my eyes as fast as I could, but not before catching a few words.
For the love of God and all that is Holy, Amazon, ship quickly!!!
Also, several people (Twig being among them) have pointed out that the Alien Kitten is, in fact, not supposed to have ears. It comes that way. Now that is one strange cat...though not as strange as the breed with curly hair (a Rex, I believe). Those things look like Gene Wilder's toupee come to life.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Friday, June 20, 2003 10:40 p.m.
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Boredom+MSN=Alien Kitten Daily
So I saw this picture on the MSN homepage today.
It was advertising some kitten rescue operation or another noble cause...but it made me laugh. Come on, the thing looks bizarre! It has no ears to speak of, its eyes are HUGE, and it's just crying out for irreverent captions. So, I give you the Alien Kitten Daily to your lower left. I filched some javascript and made a random caption generator, so if anyone has any to contribute, I'll be happy to switch some of mine out for some newer, better ones once they run their course.
Ye Gods, I do weird shit when I'm bored.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Friday, June 20, 2003 12:35 a.m.
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Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup.
I can't imagine why you can't see the pic in its entirety. It works fine for me...but if it still doesn't drop in for you, I'll see if I can't do something about it.
More rain today. Most of the traffic lights were out around town, so Mom decided to avoid them on the way back from lunch, thereby wandering around the ghetto in the pouring rain for a good thirty minutes. That was MY adventure for the day.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Thursday, June 19, 2003 05:03 p.m.
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Sparkly things are a bitch to draw.
But, nevertheless, I give you some new artwork in the gallery. While I've been turning this Tom and Harry fic around in my brain, I also produced this latest work of art, which is a lot more coherent than any of the story I've written. Anyway, for those who don't know, the idea is a kind of Harry Potter spin on the "Epic of Gilgamesh," in which an ancient king is just too perfect for his own damn good and therefore has no friends or lovers who can satisfy him. So the gods create a companion for him, equal in all ways, and after a bit of an initial fight, they get along swimmingly and pacify each other's wilder, brutal natures.
Hmm. How could this apply to Tom and Harry, I hear you cry? Oh, it can. The shocking thing is that I think I've just roughed out the ending to the story...and it's HAPPY. Soon as I get something coherent written and pseudo-beta'ed (thanks), I'll post it.
Argh. I'm starting to type dyslexically, so it's time for bed.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Thursday, June 19, 2003 01:21 a.m.
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Public Service Announcement ^_^
Had a lovely visit with Catt today (and Gandalf, as well). There was much talk of Harry Potter, which is all I'm really thinking about right now...mostly because my Inner Tom Riddle is doing the cha-cha in my head and demanding that I write about him.
Inner Tom: Write about me.
Me: But...but...my OTHER HP fic is feeling neglected...
Inner Tom: Write about meeeeeeeee.
Me: Fine, but you'd best prepare for some angst.
Inner Tom: Bring it on.
It's true. In our discussion today, it occured to me that I don't write very many happy endings, and this particular fic has tearjerker written all over it. Dammit, I want to write an ending that doesn't leave me mumbling, "Well THAT was cheerful." Perhaps it's because I've found a story is memorable for me when the author does something that completely pisses me off (like kill my favorite character, or have them switch sides, or have Fate step in and muck everything up). If everything goes the way I initially think it should and everybody survives relatively intact with big sappy grins, the work doesn't stick with me.
I mean, look at all the authors who've caught onto this. Like Shakespeare...the dude takes it to the extreme. NOBODY survives the end of Hamlet.
Anyway, I'm off to write more incoherent dialogue between Tom and Harry. Hopefully I'll start filling in holes soon. ^_^;;
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Tuesday, June 17, 2003 11:58 p.m.
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Like breathing mayonnaise...
What with all the stormy weather we've had here recently, those few moments when the sun is out to heat the air makes it feel like walking around in an armpit. My hair is huge.
I've decided there just aren't enough hours in the day. I wake up at eight, work on my room (I'm repainting it and packing a lot of stuff away). Run errands. Lunch perhaps, though not often, then more errands, then getting stuff ready for the show. I had a brief respite this afternoon when I was folding laundry and watching M*A*S*H. Then to the theatre, then out. Get back at midnight at the earliest. Too exhausted to be very productive, go to bed still thinking about what I wish I had the energy to do.
Why is it so much more tiring here? I never have a problem with running 30 hours a day at school.
Ne, I got your message yesterday, but as you can see... *gestures to previous paragraphs*...I would love to get together. Things will calm down after tomorrow night, I promise. I'll call you sometime this weekend and see what we can work out.
You know, I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing, but when I find myself too tired to work on art or writing, I go to bed thinking about what I'd like to work on, so I end up dreaming about it. So I've had Tom Riddle dreams all week...hmm. Now I have a time-turner fic evolving in my head as I sleep. I know time-turner fics are fairly run-of-the-mill, but don't most of them involve Hermione falling in love with Snape and/or one of the Marauders? And aren't they mostly accidental? It always pisses me off when she gets paired with someone that the author thinks is too old for her, so she ends up thrown back in time so there's less squick potential. Pansies, all of you.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Saturday, June 14, 2003 12:47 a.m.
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Wink, indeed.
Lookee what I got, Alan Rickman. ^_^ Thanks for the link, you.
Slytherin! You're classy to the core, favoring the
traditionally finest things the world has to
offer. While you may or may not be evil *wink*
you certainly have the power and attitude to
get what you want. You're clever as all heck,
and tend to be a couple steps ahead of even the
most astute Ravenclaw.
A More Unique Hogwarts Sorting Quiz
brought to you by Quizilla
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Wednesday, June 11, 2003 11:40 p.m.
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When you've got a job to do, you've got to do it well...
...you got to give the other fella HELL.
Alright, time for yet another of Morgan's patented Theatre Rants (TM). Okay, we've all been a little stressed because it's halfway through tech week and Jason was sick all weekend, so those two combined means rehearsals that suck and put everyone in a foul mood. Monday went very well though, and yesterday wasn't terrible except for a few blunders. Here's where it gets interesting for me as stage manager...there's quite a bit for me to do, so I talk to everyone that has a costume change or a prop they need or an entrance to make, and if they say they don't need my help, I believe them. Call me a trusting soul, but I have too much to do backstage not to take their word.
Last night Jason nearly forgot his bowtie, but we got it on him in the nick of time. And then, for various reasons (the largest of which being that I was just spacey last night...I blame Tom Riddle), I missed shooing the sheriff and the deputy onstage one scene. The people onstage covered it well, and they eventually got out there. Everyone involved who had every right to be mad that I missed that cue seemed to think it was extremely funny, I apologized for my error, and everything was fine.
Then, after notes, Alan decided that he was royally pissed off about the whole thing. First, Alan, this was a rehearsal. If something is going to go wrong, don't you want it to be now instead of Friday? Second, you weren't even involved. You were off to one side of the stage, perfectly seated for your scene. You were where you were supposed to be. Third, nobody else had a problem with it. I'm not blaming them for it at all, it was totally my fault.
I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and think he knew it wasn't his place to say something to me about it, but it was even less his place to talk to other people about it and say I wasn't doing my job. Headsets were down last night. I had no communication with the booth whatsoever. I was working at a disadvantage and I screwed up, but there's no need for you to take this high-and-mighty attitude, like you're the only professional one around here and you have to carry the show.
This is ENSEMBLE acting. Nobody carries the show. And it's community theatre, for God's sake, loosen up. You don't have to tell ME, somebody who's studying this shit in college, how to be professional. So you'd better realize that these people aren't involved to be professional: they're here to have a good time and make good memories. Memories in theatre are made when things go very well or very badly. Last night something went wrong, but it was still fun. Opening night will be an unbelievable high, and they'll remember that, too. You should, as well.
And while you're at it, get the sand out of your vagina. Hmph.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Wednesday, June 11, 2003 10:33 a.m.
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We know who we are, but not what we may be.
Jesus God, if you have any interest in Tom Riddle and how he became Lord Voldemort, read I Am Lord Voldemort. It can get a little melodramatic at times, but...wow. I am amazed by the fact that this thing contains very few cliches associated with HP fanfic. It's pretty damn good...and COMPLETE, no less.
This sucks. Now I have Tom Riddle on the brain, and I'll never get to sleep.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Wednesday, June 11, 2003 02:32 a.m.
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A pox on both your houses!
I was three quarters through one of the most fantastic Tom Riddle fics I've ever read before rehearsal tonight...and now FF.net is down. Not that I don't know what happens in the big picture, but come on! Six more chapters to go, you bastards! Let me read it in peace!
Curse this abusive relationship we have, FF.net. You reel me in and get me addicted to the rare jewel of writing to be found in the morass of muck, but then you slap me across the face with a 404 error. Curse you.
So, to appease my thirst for evil masterminds, I took this quiz. I think it's pretty accurate... ^_^
You are Jack the Ripper. Yours were some of the
most brutal murders recorded in history--yet
your case is still to this day unsolved. You
came from out of the fog, killed violently and
quickly and disappeared without a trace. Then
for no apparent reason, you satisfy your blood
lust with ever-increasing ferocity, culminating
in the near destruction of your final victim,
and then you vanish from the scene forever. The
perfect ingredients for the perennial thriller.
Which Imfamous criminal are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Tuesday, June 10, 2003 12:16 a.m.
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Strobe it, strobe it.
My sympathies go out to you. I went through the same thing last summer--though it was the result of a virus that left me a little present--but I did manage to back up almost everything, though the CDs that resulted were the most incoherent mess of written files and manga scans I've ever seen.
Out to go buy a strobe light for the play. We need lightning.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Monday, June 9, 2003 11:21 a.m.
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Why did Constantinople get the works?
Your link made me chuckle, Thorne. As did what it spit out for this:
voldemort n. a secret or unpleasant friend. "Reggie's voldemort is really secret!"
Too true.
Nothing of particular interest going on here. Been writing some (not much, though more than I have in quite some time), picked up some art supplies to get started on my goal of high art-productivity this summer, did some research for said art projects, and finished re-reading Goblet of Fire.
I woke up relatively early this morning, and found myself wanting breakfast, which is a rare thing. Usually the thought of anything but liquid on my stomach before the hour of noon gives me the willies, but I had a craving for the food at Brother Juniper's. The problem is that a)Brother Juniper's is in Memphis, and b) it's not open on weekends, anyway. It's this weird little breakfast place in midtown that's a cross between a mom & pop country breakfast joint and an Eastern Orthodox community service hub. It's got your usual quaint little checkered tablecloths and lace curtains, but there's Orthodox icons and stuff hanging all over the walls and the owners employ guys who owe community service due to some misdemeanor or another. The ones that really like working there, they hire. So chances are, you'll be served coffee in a smiley face mug by some huge tattooed guy named Butch, but you have no fear because Jesus, Mary and Joseph are EVERYWHERE. The food has a little Greek twist, too, because the cheese grits and omelets all have like six kinds of cheese in them, including feta. Dude, you've never had cheese grits if you've never had them with feta.
When I head out to Memphis to take a load of stuff to the apartment in July, I'm so getting some cheese grits...just like Justinian and Theodora used to make before 1453.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Saturday, June 7, 2003 09:26 p.m.
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Adventures in HP fandom...
Been rooting around Restrictedsection.org again...I haven't read any HP fiction there in a while, so I thought I'd take a peek to see what I could find. Here's the lineup, without links due to the site's password protection policy.
The Good: Commencement, by Aja. I've read this one before, but damn...s'good. Makes me want to write Harry/Draco. Rube's Perfect, however, makes me want to write Tom Riddle. He's even likeable in that one, as he is in Maeglin Yedi's Before the World Was Made, if you don't mind Tom Riddle and Padfoot getting it on. o_O I can't believe I just said that.
The Bad: Yes, Virginia, There Is an Orgasm", by Nancy. The idea of Tom Riddle explaining the birds and the bees to Ginny via the diary has me laughing my ass off, though it's not as well executed as I'd hoped. And RavenclawGrrl, though Unexpected Ganymede is a good title...why Snape/Percy?! Why, why?!?
The Terrifyingly Ugly: Chrysalis, by Nimori. I admit it. I didn't actually read this, because the warnings squicked me..."(NC17, Harry/Snape/Sirius/Remus/Lucius/Draco/Ron/Fred/George, Harry/Dudley)." Sweet Jesus God, man. Why do people write this shit?!
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Thursday, June 5, 2003 12:24 a.m.
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Make it hurt so good...
Thorne, that description of HP fandom is so fitting it makes me want to write a ficlet in which a character has that particular little fetish.
Sirius: Oh, no. Don't look at me, I would never be so desperate that getting racked would feel good. I don't CARE how pretty the girl is. Hmm...but I wouldn't mind giving such treatment to a certain manky little Slytherin shit.
Snape: I beg your pardon! A Snape would never stoop to such vile activities!
Draco: Hmm...well, it sounds like my relationship with Harry. Does getting knocked with a bludger count?
Harry: NO!
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Wednesday, June 4, 2003 10:01 a.m.
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The lovers, the dreamers, and me.
I am pleased with the new and improved Pompous Cultured Asshole Snape. He brings out the best in Sirius, I've decided. Their relationship has become cause for me to dig out all the little humorous, witty mini-exchanges I've jotted down in my, "fodder for stories and/or scripts," notebook. For instance:
"It's not going to bite you, you know," Black said.
"You can't trust anything around here, not even the books," replied Severus sourly.
"That's just because nobody likes you, Snape."
"I didn't come here to be liked." Severus reached out and slid the book closer to him, glaring at Black with the unmistakable intent of dismissing him.
"Then you certainly came to the right place, didn't you?" Black grinned maliciously, giving Severus an almost cheerful wave as he walked away.
The zoo that is Murphy, NC right now is ridiculous. My grandmother lives a couple hours from there, and we pass through the Nantahala gorge and Murphy on our way to and from her house. We caught the worst of the news van traffic on the way home, and because we hadn't had the radio on, we had no clue what the hullabaloo was about.
Perhaps in five years Osama and Saddam will be spotted scrounging for food behind a Sav-A-Lot there, too.
Craisins currently rock my world. Off to go write...eeeeaaaaaa. ^_^
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Tuesday, June 3, 2003 11:28 p.m.
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Inspiration enters through the back door.
And no, I'm not talking about yaoi.
I'm talking about beating myself about the head for the last few months because I hated the way I was writing Snape. It just didn't feel right. It was sort of...I don't know, bitter/cynical/greasy Harry, rather than Snape. So I tweaked it some, and he came out more like Draco, but with balls.
So, while I was working to post the large chunk of Harry Potterage that I've written, I discovered I intesnsely disliked nearly every scene that contained Snape. That's a lot of scenes.
So, in my quest to stop kicking myself for my incompetence as far as developing the character of a young Snape, I planted my arse on my grandmother's couch after suffering through the wedding (that's another post...ergh) and watched four consecutive episodes of M*A*S*H.
And you know what? Inspiration struck. I found the element that's been missing from my Snape in one Major Charles Emerson Winchester III. Winchester is...how can I say this...a pompous, selfish, arrogant, irritable, high-class and first-class perfectionist who has the ability to hold everything he does over your head because he is, in fact, very good at what he does. The only people who can really get under his skin are his bunkmates, who happen to be best friends who enjoy dry humor, dry gin, and playing endless practical jokes on him.
Sound like Snape and the Marauders to anyone else? So, rather than posting something I'm unhappy with, I've gone back and started writing Snape the way he should be written...and I like what I've redone so far. ^_^
Quick social blogging...um, hope your job opportunity works out, and the idea of a code orange worm alert gives me the heebie-jeebies.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Sunday, June 1, 2003 10:54 p.m.
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No amount of buttering me up...
...will ever get me to support this. Montgomery, AL is to have a new minor league baseball team, and guess what they're going to be called.
Give up? The Biscuits. Yes, you read that correctly. The Biscuits.
After I got over my inital reaction of laughing my ass off that they would even attempt such a thing and take it seriously (the concession area of the new stadium is going to be called the "Biscuit Basket"...), I started to get a little peeved. First, because I'm sorry, but there's just nothing intimidating about a mascot made out of dough. It's like paper, rock, scissors...just going by team names and their place on the food chain, of course they're going to lose every match. Redbirds, Devil Rays, Braves...all would chew up a Biscuit and spit it out.
Second, the southerner in me got a little pissed. Granted, the City of Montgomery held a contest and actually chose this from the suggestions (the guys who submitted it said, "Why not? All Alabamians like 'em."). But still...who is going to take this seriously? Let's just breed negative stereotypes like bunnies. Might as well call them the Crackers, or the Whitebreads. Or maybe the Rednecks? I know, I know, this falls in the category of Southern Pride and why shouldn't we all celebrate that by singing Free Bird and Sweet Home Alabama whenever possible, but jeez. It's not even a very GOOD Southern stereotype.
Anyway, mini-rant is over. Off to rehearsal to fit costumes.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Thursday, May 29, 2003 05:36 p.m.
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A portrait of the traitor as a young man
Driving around Rome, Marietta, and Cartersville for the last three days tyring to locate props and costumes has given me lots of time to think. And by think, I mean ponder plot bunnies in my head.
One bunny in particular bunny has fangs, because he's somewhat of a challenge, but I've written most of it (it's just a little delve into a character's mind), and as soon as I proof it, I'll post it. You'll understand what I mean by "challenge," when you read it.
You could never bring me stress. But yes, sometime after this week/end would be better. I have a wedding to go to this weekend (a second(?) cousin of my dad's up in Asheville), so I'll be sure to try and post the tidbit of fiction before I leave. I think you might enjoy it. ^_^
More shopping. Need slipcover for godawful green chair...ergh.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Thursday, May 29, 2003 11:05 a.m.
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Dreamy new layout.
And by "dreamy", I mean "dreamsicle." That's what this color scheme reminds me of...those orange popsicles with the cream center. I used to love those things on field day in elementary school.
Hush, you perverts. Yeah, you in the back. I can hear you.
Anyway, thought it was about time for a new look around here. I was originally going to make the background black again, but hell. I can only do so much black. My trip to FL and the infamous Miami Vice CD put me in the mood for this particular studmuffin-who-is-no-longer-a-studmuffin.
This week is going to be hell. Mom's stressing out over the play(s), there's a million things to do, we've all been short-tempered, and I desperately need to organize all the shit in my room. Hell, I want to repaint it and such, but there's just not time now. On top of all this, relatives are in town and staying with the grandparents, so we're expected to put in our requisite hours there. This would be fine if we weren't so damn busy and everyone visiting hadn't gotten involved in an argument with my mom and grandma a couple months ago. "A couple months ago?" I hear you cry. Yes, citizens, the maternal side of my family has a history of grudges so long they put the Amazon to shame. This should be F-U-N. That spells "horrendous."
Bah, I need to splice together what tidbits I have of my godforsaken HP fic and just post the damn thing. It's driving me nuts. I can afford Severus angst right now, but that's what I'm writing. Go figure. Better than the smut I churned out as a b'day present for someone in the dorm. That thing should have had a cover featuring Fabio.
Must sleep. Getting up early to go costume hunting. Yippee.
Morgan stared out at the auburn sky Wednesday, May 28, 2003 02:30 a.m.
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