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maychorian
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Name: Laura
Birthday: 6/28/1983
Gender: Female
Interests: Dr. Daniel Jackson, and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not necessarily at the same time, though . . . dang it! I just gave myself an idea! Nuts, those kittens are dropping like flies.
Expertise: I write fanfic. And I'm good at it, dang it! I begin to think that I've been writing fanfic all my life, and that it may, in fact, be all I'm good for. Oh, and I've also been told that I'm very skilled at editing. And I play piano and sing and write goofy little songs. And I make very yummy cake.
Occupation: Copywriter
Industry: Marketing and Design
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  maychorianlaura
Member Since:
9/21/2004
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| Today is a daySo, yes. The Dark Knight? Two-and-a-half-hour continual geekgasm. I
thought "This is awesome" an average of once every five minutes. I
talked out loud in the theater (which I almost never do, especially
when going by myself), mostly things like "HOLY CRAP!" and "OH MAN!"
and "SAVE HIM, BATMAN, SAVE HIM". I laughed and choked and gasped in
shock (all three in equal amounts). The Joker? Totally, totally scary.
The movie was just on the edge of How Dark You Can Go without losing me
completely--there were moments when I felt literally nauseated. Such a
bleak world, that Gotham is, with so few rays of hope.
I also
thought, more than once, that this is a Batman, and a Batman universe,
who really, really needs a Robin. Archetypically, Robin is the shaft of
light in the dank dungeon, the sweet note in the minor-key symphony,
the fulcrum on Batman's lever. (And of course, I love Robin
unreasonably--that character is what drew me into the Batman fandom
back when I was sixteen or so.) I think the Tim Drake kind of Robin
would work in this new movie-verse, too, though I'm not sure a Dick
Grayson Robin would work. A circus acrobat? Ward of a billionaire? Just
a little too sixties to fly in this gray new world. But a Tim Drake who
figures out who Batman is and follows him back home and says, "Hey, you
need help and I want to help you," and who won't give no matter what,
who is just as aggressive and driven and ninja-freak-psychotic as Bruce
himself, only a little more optimistic (as well as younger and cuter)?
Yeah, that would fit. They could even call him Dick Grayson if they
wanted--I would know that it was really Tim.
Oh, and the trailer for the Watchmen movie? Quality stuff.
The T on this keyboard is sticking. So annoying.
I
overdrew at the bank. I haven't done that for awhile. So frustrating.
And my next paycheck will have to be for rent, so I don't know how I'm
going to pay my school loan this month, so I'm a little scared. Oh
well. My credit score can't really get any worse.
Hulu.com has
episodes of the A-Team. I have just relived a part of my childhood. The
cheesy part. I ain't getting on no plane, Hannibal!
The song
from Dr. Horrible that goes "I cannot believe my eyes" is stuck in my
head right now. I'm so sad that it's disappearing from the internet
tonight. I haven't had time to memorize the songs yet!
It's been
a week now since I got my ratties, and they are quite tame. Wallace is
totally fearless with me now, which is good. Too young to be a good
cuddler, though. He protests and scampers off. Oh well, that's why I
have mice. Sweet, soft little mice who fall asleep in my hand. Best
pets in the world.
And last night I discovered a drawback of the
current arrangement, with me on the couch and the cage open beside me,
the ratties free to run where they will. The problem? Just because you
fall asleep on the couch doesn't mean that the little darlings will
respect your rest. Around one o'clock I woke up, fuzzily, still
half-dreaming, to the realization that OMG Wallace is in my UNDERWEAR
he must have thought it looked like a good little place to explore rat
paws are scampering on my bare BUTT this isn't a good place to nap
those are my UNDERWEAR. And I firmly grasped the rattie by the middle
and removed him. Then I went to my proper bed.
Note that this
is how calm my personality is--that waking in the middle of the night
with a RAT IN MY UNDERWEAR led to no yelling or gasping or violent
movements or freak-outs or palpitations. But watching The Dark Knight
did. This should be an indication of what kind of movie it is. Choose
your companions accordingly. | | |
| Dr. HorribleIf you know that Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog exists, and you haven't watched it yet, you fail at being a proud, upstanding, red-blooded, basement-dwelling, parent-mooching, Star Trek/Wars-watching, Princess Bride-loving, Monty Python-quoting, D&D-playing, graphic novel-owning, in-joke-cracking geek. Or any kind of geek at all, rather. Okay, granted, I failed until like, twenty minutes ago, but I have rectified this.
It's by Joss Whedon. It's about superheroes (um, villains, more). It has Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion. It's a God's-truth, street-dancing, weird-timing musical. And it's a free internet miniseries, there for the watching. How can this be anything but awesome?
If you doubted, doubt no longer. I have tasted the fruits of this strange new world, and lo, they are good. You are encouraged to also partake. I promise, you won't get kicked out of a garden or anything.
Limited time only! Apparently it's getting taken down on the 20th. *is very sad, nigh to the death* | | |
| I have the cutest, funniest, sweetest pets in the worldSo as you may imagine, I've spent the last few days trying to bond with my new ratties. It's pretty amazing how quickly it's going, actually. Especially since I'm used to mice, which take a very long time to tame. (With good reason, though. I mean, EVERYTHING is after them. I mean, literally, EVERYTHING. They are the ultimate prey animal.) The time is definitely worth it, but the process is very different.
These ratties are young, too, adolescents in the rat world, so they're very playful. We can have little hand wrestling sessions and I don't worry about hurting them. They're like little puppies and kittens that will never get as big as adult cats and dogs. Well, I can play roughly with Wallace. Sebastian is still a little more nervous, and limits his interaction with me as much as possible. That's okay, though. Wallace more than makes up for it. He reminds me a lot of Astara, especially in his frequent and aggressive sessions of "rodentistry." Astara used to do that a lot.
I'm currently sitting on my couch at home, with their cage on the floor a few inches away, the lid off (currently a ten-gallon tank, until I can afford to get a nice wire cage. It's fine for now as they're quite small). Wallace will jump on the side of the tank, run around the edges, then come over to the couch and climb all over me and the cushions, then go back to the cage. Last night he did this in circles going around and around, but tonight he's spending more time on the couch, thoroughly exploring. He's getting more comfortable with me and his new home. It's so funny to watch him run around. Sebastian isn't nearly so confident, but last night he didn't even climb up to top of the cage on his own (I had to pick him up to spend time with him), and already tonight he's made several rounds of the couch. Definitely progress.
Wallace is also climbing all over the keyboard of my laptop (like, right this second), so I have to watch out for "rat-like typing". My mice aren't heavy enough to press the keys, so that's another difference. Earlier tonight I was watching episodes of Torchwood and Supernatural on the computer, and Wallace messed it up several times, walking on the keys, making it pause or stop or change aspect or suddenly start playing slowly (I have no idea how he did that or how to fix it--I finally just closed the media player and opened it again). I couldn't be mad, though. He was just s'darn cute, sitting there on my keyboard carefully grooming his little nose and whiskers.
I've also been messing with him by playing rat vocalizations from this web page, peeps and squeaks and chirrups. Wallace always perks up with interest and starts running around the couch, sniffing around. He probably thinks there's another rat around here somewhere, but no, it's just me. Sorry, baby. I'm a jerk.
Well, must go. I think Wallace is trying to climb into my pocket. The problem is that I don't actually have a pocket on this skirt.
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| Right thenThe weekend was, as I anticipated, quite fabulous. I was reminded of
all the reasons that I love my church--fellowship, friendly people,
solid teaching, warmth and love in abundance. And all of the reasons
that I'm uncertain about it, as well. Why is it that we can be so good
with each other on most things, and yet have silly rules? I'm not any
less confused that I was before. I'm also very, very tired, even after
a night of rest.
But, more importantly, I have new pets! On the
way home, I was driving with my three youngest sisters, and we stopped
in Columbia City for lunch. In the same shopping area was a little
mom-n-pop looking pet store, and my sisters begged for a little
look-see. I wasn't in a hurry, so we went in.
And yeah, I ended
up buying a couple of adorable little fuzzbutts. Two little rats, one
gray and somewhat slender and slightly more high-strung, one brown and
quite chubby and very friendly. My sisters came up with names and I
picked my favorites--Wallace (brown) and Sebastian (gray). They were
very nervous at first, and of course the drive back to Fort Wayne was
stressful, but they've warmed up to me very quickly. By the time I was
ready to go to bed, Sebastian was sleeping curled up against my neck
and Wallace was lounging over my chest. Oh, they're sweet little
ratties. I need to get my camera fixed so I can take pictures!
I may ramble more about my church later, or I may not. But I'm pretty sure that I will be talking about my pets. (I missed my mice, too. I can hardly stand being away from them for even two days.) | | |
| Family CampI'm going away this weekend, but I expect I'll be back on Sunday, and
it probably doesn't matter to any of you, but I'm mentioning it anyway,
because I have a blog and apparently that's what you do. Yeah. It's
called Family Camp--a yearly get-together of a bunch of families from
my church and other families from other churches in my denomination.
It's always a good time. I've kind of been drifting from my church,
lately. No, not kind of--REALLY drifting. So this will be a good time
to see if I want to try to, you know, stop that. Or if I should just
give up. I have philosophical differences with my church. No, not
theological, the theology is excellent, by and large. The differences
are philosophical. But yeah, it will be an interesting weekend.
Probably also a good one. Maybe even challenging. Probably fun.
Certainly exhausting. And very likely smelly. I will return reeking of
campfire smoke, sunscreen, mosquito repellent, and sweat, because I'm
not even taking showering supplies, because showering while you're at
camp is a bit like shoveling snow in a blizzard, and I'm not one for
wasting time, really. Also: brownies. We always have good snacks there.
And I'm taking my guitar. Just in case.
So yeah. I'll try to post again on Sunday. Maybe not though. I'll be tired. And possibly cranky. | | |
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