The Icon Faerie

I'm going to bed broken hearted and I don't care who knows it.

http://www.hbo.com/video/video.html/?autoplay=true&vid=1118917&filter=game-of-thrones&view=null

AHHH SERIOUSLY WHY IS IT NOT 2011 YET.

That video looks amazing I WANT IT NOW. (DID YOU SEE MY HARRY LLOYD AS VISERYS? My one regret is that he will not be around for long, but alas. I will take what I can get.)

I am watching the British version of Who Do You Think You Are. I downloaded Stephen Fry and David Tennant, although right now I'm watching Rupert Penry-Jones (om nom nom) because I can. He's traveled to India because his mother's family was British army in India, and it is so damn gorgeous. I am reminded how I'd like to travel to southeast Asia. I wouldn't go alone, though, because I've seen Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason. People will stick shit in your suitcase and before you know it, you're a drug mule.

But I'd love to visit India. And Cambodia, Vietnam, Thailand, but like I said, I wouldn't want to go alone. For safety reasons, as well as that sort of thing would just be more fun with someone else. I mean, I've traveled alone before, but Europe is... different. That sounds kind of awful, I know, but it is what it is.

This show is fascinating and I'm such a nerd, but it's amazing. Rupert Penry-Jones has been chasing after his mother's side of the family, where there was a family legend that they had some Indian blood in them. Lo and behold, a baptism record showed one of his ancestors was an "Indo-Briton" and now he can go even further back. *glee*

I've started putting stuff in my car, and packing things. I might make it back yet.

ETA: And now I'm watching Stephen Fry who is, of course, a total scream. "Oh how extraordinary! Look what it says: pauper inmate. Oh my god, he's a pauper inmate at the Lewisham Workhouse in the High street! How fantastic, how Dickensian! We have come a long way, we Frys."

I have been watching Bones for basically two days. It was on my list to watch anyway, but my sister bought seasons one and two at Wal-Mart on Friday night. So now I'm hooked and by this time next week I will probably be caught up on all five seasons and have one more hour of TV to watch this year.

Day 19 - A song from your favourite album
I'm a CD skipping girl. I will skip songs on a CD that I don't like as much, even musicals (unless I'm listening to it for the first few times) but there are some CDs that are so awesome I can listen to the whole thing. One of these is The Decemberists' "The Hazards of Love."



( List )

"The Pandorica Opens" broke my brain, so I decided to finish and post my "Vincent and the Doctor" picspam. There are spoilers herein, obviously.

As someone who battles with depression and anxiety, I have a very strong attachment to this episode and now, perhaps by extension, Vincent Van Gogh. A friend of phiremangston said that it felt like a hug -- and it did. Not all of us are going to hang in the gallery, most of us will probably never become known outside of our own lives, but we can take the inexplicable loneliness and darkness that we're feeling and make something beautiful out of it.

But yes. Doctor Who touched on it and reached to me without making it into a Very Special Episode. It was nice to feel like my hand was being held for just a little bit, instead of everything just being awful for no good reason.



( If we had gotten married our kids would have had very, very red hair. )

I wish the worst thing that had happened in the last 48 hours was missing Jonathan Groff at Promises, Promises, but no. Then I had to get rear-ended on 347 mere miles from Stony Brook. We're both (Bee and I) okay, a little sore but nothing that an ibuprofen cocktail won't cure, and the damage to my car is cosmetic (I think. My license plate is bent and the paint is scratched) but the damage to her car is kind of epic. The fender broke and the Ford symbol was like, in her engine instead of outside on the grill.

We called the cops and they got bitchy because I didn't have my registration card with me (the state of NY sends you SO MUCH CRAP when you register a car and I've been here a grand total of nine months, how the fuck was I supposed to know?) but the report was nice and straight forward. She admitted fault, so no one has to put up a fight for anything. I think I'm going to call tomorrow and see if I can take my car to the dealership in the afternoon (depending on how tired I am) or on Saturday, just to check it out. If it's cosmetic I won't bother fixing it, but I just want to make sure that nothing got damaged and is going to fall off somewhere on I-80.

I also think I should call my insurance and see if I need to switch my address to Iowa. 'Cause I don't want to (call them or switch) but even less do I want my insurance to get cancelled.

I could just switch my insurance company but I'm too fucking exhausted to think about it right now. Maybe in the fall.

There's also this fascinating kerfuffle happening amongst people in the TV/film/theatre business, talking about this Newsweek article wherein the guy (I can't be arsed to remember his name) basically said, "gay actors cannot play straight" and his first victims were Sean Hayes (currently in Promises, Promises) and my honey Jonathan Groff (now on Glee, macking it up with Lea Michele again), who honestly had me fooled until he came out of the close this fall for a number of reasons. It's just been a wanksplosion. Since I have no more schoolwork I think I might collect articles and comments and the like and write a wank report. Because this is seriously fucking epic.

Also, speaking of gay, roseanna and I are going to see The Temperamentals tonight. We're going to download and watch Supernatural when we get home. And then she is leaving me in the morning. :(

The one time I actually CAN go to bed early and have the desire to, I can't sleep and end up laying there, tossing around for two hours. This is a bitch.

I had to write a ten minute play for my Play Development Workshop class, since we're holding a ten minute play festival (using the prompt "the most important thing in the world") and Steve wanted us to "understand the process" or something. I don't really consider myself a playwright, so it was an interesting exercise. I do prose, usually, where you can have narrative and a little more psychological insight whereas in a play it's all action and it all has to be in the text. Anything else the director's making up. Anyway, Chris wrote this great dark comedy about hope, and Aaron wrote these hilarious little vignettes about the invention of the wheel, and I wrote a piece about a guy who accidentally killed and then purposefully dismembered a young girl and he wants the mother's forgiveness before he gets strapped to a table. I am a cheery little fuck.

Also, I am very bad with money and nobody should ever let me have any. And you should never go grocery shopping when you haven't eaten anything all day. These two statements are related.

My last Mentalist recap was sixteenth in the top thirty hits for thetwocents.com last week! Woo! This has never happened for me before, so this is a good thing.

Steve wants to start holding graduate meetings on Tuesday mornings at NINE AM. Which would be all very well and good, I'm sure, except when you can't fall asleep until 4:30 and have to leave the apartment at 8:30 to get there on time, the morning comes very early.

Today I was very sleepy because that's what happened to me last night. I was sleepy which is different from just tired.

I started reading the next Bernard Cornwell book I have, which is The Archer's Tale, the first of a trilogy. I get through the first twenty pages, coastal English village, our hero is tall and strong, your basic Cornwell fare. We also get to hear a lot about the priest. Also pretty typical for Cornwell, as his priests tend to come in two flavors: one, holier-than-thou, vice ridden, and disgustingly corrupt, or two, not as pious and devoted as you might expect but okay guys. This one is the latter. Okay. Well we have French raiders getting all up in their grill now and kill the priest and the rest of the village as well (except for our hero of course). Okay, fine.

Hero and the priest get this wonderful scene before he expires and then we find out the hero is the priest's son, and this is treated as though we readers should have known this all along. And maybe I should have been genre-savvy enough to know, since in that moment we also hear that hero's mother is the priest's housekeeper. Okay then. But looking back though the first pages, it is pretty much implied that the priest and hero's father are two different people. I get the whole priests having kids thing, I do. But if Cornwell was going for a Big Reveal, I can only say that he failed fantastically and his editor should have beat him with a switch until he fixed it. Sometimes I think best-selling authors start getting held to a lower standard than lower-earning authors do and getting passes because they make the company money (Jesus, look at SMeyer), but I digress. I was just disappointed is all.

picspammy's challenge this month is for five things of something -- but no more than five. Here's my blatant attempt at not doing homework contribution for now!



( THERE'S NOTHING IRONIC ABOUT SHOWCHOIR. )

So I took thinkatory home on Wednesday. I don't fly back to New York until next Saturday. So I'm just hanging out.

I'm watching the Doctor Who "Dreamland" cartoon, and like I said on Twitter, my only complaint is that there is no way for a simple computer generated image can convey the faces David Tennant makes.

Speaking of the Doctor, I loved The End of Time and I suppose that puts me in something of a... minority? No? I find the fandom a little scary so I only hover around the edges, but I loved it. David Tennant broke my heart and so did John Simm. The timey-wimeyness of it all was brilliant and holy shit Rassilon. I am a sap and I make no apologies for it.

We caught my mother up on SPN season five, and she's all excited to watch it when it comes back next week. I'm going to get to watch it with her because I won't be going back until Saturday, and that makes me happy. It'll be the first time in awhile that we've gotten to watch something where neither of us knew what was happening. Okay that's not totally true, because we watched Project Runway. I think this is going to be a season with the judges and me at odds again. They liked Ping's... thing, which leaves me with a bad feeling about this. I don't know if Anthony can make clothes, but holy shit he makes me laugh.

I did some retail therapy on Thursday with Christmas money and gift cards that I hadn't spent yet. I feel a weird sort of pressure shopping with others, for time and other things, so I like to do my serious shopping alone. I don't know, I know that I'm sort of weird like that. I bought a top at Vanity that was just a liiiiiiiiittle tight, but if I manage to lose a little weight (I know, I know, New Year's Resolutions never stick, blah blah blah) then it should fit fine. Hell maybe even my spanx will help.