Well. I haven't blogged in ages.

Stuff happens. Happened. Just got to keep on running through it, like Forrest Gump said.

I got a new laptop, got a new phone. Went to Cafe Nero for the first time. It was nice; horribly expensive but nice.

Mum's still pissed at me, and I'm not quite sure why. On Saturday, I bought a few videos from charity shops in town, and later on, when he went out, Dad bought the video of Twelve Monkeys.

It was strange, but I liked it, once I'd thought about it and looked it up on the 'net so I understood it better.

However, for some unknown reason, Mum didn't like it and decided to blame me buying it (Dad bought it), watching it (Dad was the one who suggested we put it on), allowing my younger brothers to watch it (Did I mention that Dad stuck around for the entire movie?) and is still in a huff with me on Monday evening.

I can't take her seriously anymore. I see other people, other parents, and I don't know what to think.

I watched Kramer vs. Kramer. Dustin Hoffman's hair is very old. Meryl Streep looks a little like a pixie.

We used to have a geography game that let you click on world landmarks; and when you clicked on Mount Rushmore, all the heads would go, "Doobie-doobie-dah, doobie-doobie-doobie-dah-ah!"

*nods* Oh yes.

They're watching Planet of the Apes in the other room. Should I join them or go upstairs to watch Scrubs or do some more of my English coursework?

Hmm.

I might point out that it's the original Planet of the Apes. If it wasn't, the subject would never have arisen.

Lol. That sounds like a freaky medical exam.

DOCTOR [with his back to the patient]: And if you'll observe, gentlemen, the fracture of the upper humerus coupled with the haemoglobin patches in the upper cerebral cortex would combine to --
ONLOOKER: Sir!
DOCTOR: ... provoke an onset of gout with complications in the --
ONLOOKER: Sir! The corpse is moving!
DOCTOR [turning around to see the corpse standing up and looking around for a fig leaf]: Now please, even though the subject has arisen, there is no need for panic. We may still continue our dissection...
FORMERLY DECEASED PATIENT: On your bike, mate!

~

>_< That was very, very silly.

The New Moon trailer actually doesn't look too bad. More colourful than Twilight, at any rate, so it might be better film-wise, if not story-wise. The wolves look good, and at least they wax their chests, unlike Edward who looks gross. Really pale chest with dark hair = gag. Dakota Fanning looks really weird, and I like Alice's head scarf. And the yellow car. Bella has more emotion this time round, so I hope Kristen Stewart will be all right. I know lots of people knock her for being bland, but she was amazing in Speak.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Wanna see wanna see wanna see reallyreallyreallywannasee. Must WILL see.

And some older ones that are on my to-see-via-the-internet list...

Van Helsing: Lolwhut? There was something that looked like Batman about halfway through. And weird birdy-people. Hm. Potentially cool-y, but doesn't look very promising. Too many females with weapons. Okay, looking closer at plot details, the weird birdy-people are women who change into "demonic flying creatures". So, not as cute as they looked.

And so to end on a related note, Bram Stoker's Dracula, full of (woah) lots of famous people. Oh. Wow. Um. Very... romance-orientated? Still, no harm in broadening one's mind.


~

Ten more days until NaNoWriMo. *gleeps*

Woo, long hiatus.

Planned a visit to the hairdressers -- one of the stylists looked so much like Tracy Pollan -- did an exam or two, went back to school, found something new and realised that NaNoWriMo is just around the corner.

Ah, NaNo. That happy time of adjective abuse, reduced Halloween candies, dark nights and word counts.

Oh, lawdy, I cannot wait.

I have two possible ideas. One is about a soldier, as yet unnamed, who is preparing to go into battle with his men. Cut to the battle aftermath. He wakes up and realises that he cannot find his body. His spirit/soul/consciousness has become trapped in his right hand, cut off in the battle and lying on the field, possibly miles away from his body. He learns to walk on his fingers (kind of a lot like Thing in The Addams Family) and discovers that he can "see" by a kind of echolocation, picking up the vibrations given off by sound and movement. That's as far as I've got so far. I assume it'll be the "quest" type of story, where he has to find his body and somehow reattach himself or something. Or not. I'll have to see how it goes.


The second idea feels like it might have more in it because it's a culmination of a bunch of ideas written down at night. I keep a notebook by my bed so if I get an idea in the night or when I'm dozing off, I can write it down. So, from these dreaming-ideas and the philosophy book Sophie's World (which I hate, by the way), comes a mishmash of thingieumabobs:

* There are two worlds -- the one we live in that we perceive with our senses and so is flawed; and the other world which contains the perfect "idea" of everything and which we can only understand with our reason. Strictly speaking, this idea isn't mine, it's Plato's, but since he's been dead for while, I think that means his stuff is in the public domain and all.

* A man sitting on the cracked throne in the middle of the grey mountains. This feels more Russian or Slovakian.

* A man and a woman dancing. That bit in The Mask of Zorro when Alejandro and Elena do that suggestive/racy dance. The point is that they're beautiful when they do that. The dance is beautiful, the music is beautiful, the night is beautiful, the setting is beautiful, they are beautiful in themselves and they're beautiful because they become a part of the dance. So. Perfect Man and Perfect Woman; the "idea" of everything that a man and a woman should be, or like the mold from which every other man and woman in the world was made. This obviously feels Spanish.

* A man who sits high in a white tower making all the music there is in the world. He has a bowl, or maybe several, all filled with a slightly cloudy liquid streaked through with tiny things that look like tadpoles that at first seem white, but shine rainbow whenever they move or when you look at them too hard. The idea of Perfect Music. This feels ever so slightly French because it was inspired by this video done for Jean Michel Jarre's Rendez-Vous IV, and that name oozes Frenchness.

* A gypsy who leaves his home to make his fortune elsewhere because he can't play the fiddle, steal, dance, sing or sell clothes pegs. This idea I'm really not too sure about because all the others feel more serious, while this is comic. It might work -- splitting the story in half with one being lighter and funnier and to do with the normal people who aren't Perfect, and the other with Perfect Man and Perfect Woman and the man in the tower and the man on the cracked throne. Because he's not Perfect, he doesn't fit the Perfect "idea" of a gypsy. However, I don't want it to degenerate into a Scott Westerfield type "oh you're not perfect so we're going to discriminate against you and do all sorts of horrid things to you". There are only two worlds; if he lives in the imperfect, there's no reason for him to be Perfect, if he lives in the Perfect, it's too Perfect for there to be discrimination and horrid stuff.



As usual, none of these ideas have any real plot or action behind them, but everyone throws the "no plot? no problem!" thing around so much that it might just work.

Do you not like me with my clown?
I can see I make you frown.
When on earth will all this end?
I'm your friend, your only friend.

I had that running through my head during my Sociology exam. I got an E.

I'm not writing. I'm not writing, my results sucked and clinging to Scrubs as a constant probably isn't very healthy.

On the plus side, I love my skateboard -- and Phillip K. Dick.

From Chuck Norris Facts:

Chuck Norris can hit you so hard that he can actually alter your DNA. Decades from now your descendants will occasionally clutch their heads and yell "What The Hell was That?"


SNIS: A story about a group of people who became superheroes after being roundhoused by Chuck Norris. Any ideas for a team name?

I see pictures of New Moon. I see life-size cut outs of Bella Swan and postcards of Edward's fizzog in one of my favourite shops.

Twihards? Two words: Teen Wolf.

I entered for this thing in a magazine. It's not really a contest, more like a draw. The first person to respond to the magazine and said they'd write an article for the next issue got a copy of the graphic novel of The Hobbit.

So I thought, Whee and What the heck.

They emailed back, said I'd "won" (who else is wondering if I was the only one to respond at all?), and it could be an article or a story but it had to be about 400 words.

I wrote it. It was amazingly difficult. I've no idea why, but the words wouldn't come. Writer's Block, I'm thinking, brought on by reading too many comic books and not enough novels. But I finished the story eventually. It came to a bit over 1000 words.

Now it's a bit over 400. And I hate it. All the bits I liked have had to go to make the word count. It's choppy and awkward and doesn't flow right.

Spongebob says all I want to.

SPONGEBOB. All I want to.

Har-har.

'Chapter Six: That Bright Eyes Is Remarkable' is finished! Not typed up yet, but finally finished. It was hard. When the Raven called the rats, that was very hard, because I could see it exactly right in my head, but I couldn't find the right words. Then the pigeons came, and it was a lot easier.

WOO!

I think I'll reword the last few lines when Penny enters. After that, I'm not sure whether to cut straight to Penny's place of res. or to go through the "whowhatwherewhattheheckjusthappenedidontknowbutcanyouhelpusohnowaitsheisntahybridisshe?" stuff, because that can get kind of difficult and boring.

*massages rear end* Oy vey. Sedentary lifestyle, much? At least it's the weekend, when I can sit at the computer upstairs, the computer downstairs, on the chair in my room and read my books and hopefully hopefully hopefully get some writing done.

I'm on chapter six. Yeah. Amazing, innit? This is the chapter that I'm most worried about so far. The words are coming and everything, but this is when the Raven starts writing on the walls. So, quotes from Alice Through The Looking Glass, Obama's inauguration speech, Small Faces' song Lazy Sunday, The Tale of Peter Rabbit, the first phone call, Frankenstein and a Nazi maths textbook.

:?

They're important, but I think I may be overdoing it a bit. >_<

D'arvit.

Anyone got an Anti-Laziness, Frantic Energy pill I could use?

The alchemy part is still a little hazy, as is what happens after Mister Bordello. Though I know that Penny and the Raven have a day out in the city. Together. XD And that Penny... gets rather more involved with Mistress than she should.

Her lips tasted sweet, of sugar and ginger and peppermint, and somehow soft; absurdly soft. It was as though the pinkness of her mouth and her surprise at the gesture had transmuted into a taste that spread through my mouth like a growing flower and then, for one fleeting instant, blossomed on the tip of my tongue before fading as she pulled away.

I mean, oy. I have never read romance, have never written romance, have never experienced romance, how the heck can I write Penny's feelings for Lily? Admittedly, it's not in Penny's first person, but still.

What makes it worse is that I hate it when people put gay characters in their books without good reason. It's like Russell T Davies' habit of putting black people into Doctor Who just to be politically correct. I'm not doing that for Penny. It just came. I wasn't even thinking about her, even though she needed and still does need thought and compost. It was like she'd handed me a bit of paper with, "I r lesbian" written on it.

Not that she'd write it like that. She wouldn't write it at all, she's just look and wait and then do something at completely the wrong time but it would be actually quite tender and thoughtful.

But it feels right.




Okay, rant over now.