| gahhhhhh |
[04 Jul 2002|04:11pm] |
I am having difficulties. Finding actor pics for characters is always hard; the task is complicated if, when given a description, all you can think of is River Phoenix.
River Phoenix is not HO's Blaise Zabini; unfortunately, River Phoenix looks much like the following description:
brown hair w/red-gold highlights, blue eyes, olive skin, medium build, tall. (and possibly skinnier than he should be, at the moment, due to Mexico perhaps?)
Anyone have any other ideas? I am going for a kind of understated elegance, but since I didn't decide on the physical specifics, I can't get an image in my mind.
(btw, Kym, this is not the Blaise you RP with, who is XX and quite different and, as you have said, looks exactly like me and is therefore automatically sexy.)
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| wtf? |
[04 Jul 2002|01:26am] |
It is illegal to possess a dildo except as an 'educational model'? Is this true? Gee whiz. Note that I live in Texas USA.
...am surrounded by criminals!
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Happy birthday to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) deepsix |
[26 Jun 2002|10:49pm] |
I made V a silly little birthday present.
But none of you are allowed to see it unless you've read "Trash" at her site.
Go read it now.
NOW.
Okay, you're back? Wasn't that hilarious. Yes it was. Now go back and read any of the other stuff that catches your fancy, because V is something of an undiscovered gem, and she's marvelous. (Undiscovered mostly because she hates the fandom, and I for one do not blame her.)
( Okay, here's the stupid thing. )
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[25 Jun 2002|05:01pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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vindictive |
] |
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music |
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Patty Griffin - Cain |
] |
WANT MY FUCKING JOB BACK NOW.
um. sorry. Sometimes that feeling just overwhelms me and I can't hold it back.
You know what? Now I'm glad that I 'borrowed' that cool clown shirt for my Halloween costume last fall. (The cat is my sister. Gorgeous, no?) I don't think I'll give it back to the studio, either. Take that!
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[25 Jun 2002|04:50pm] |
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music |
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Proyecto Uno - Tiburon |
] |
"the delaying death"
Okay. I know that's a quote from something. But I don't know what. However, I am sure one of you out there knows. Please tell me!
I'm thinking Shakespeare, but isn't that always the answer?
un poquito mas duro
un poquito mas duro!
sigue sigue
...
una princesa pasó por mi lado
La miré con ganas
Wow, that even makes sense. In my head, anyway. I hope that's what they're singing. Tiburon=shark!
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| thunderstorm |
[25 Jun 2002|04:33pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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exhilarated |
] |
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music |
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Loch Lomond |
] |
Fifteen minutes ago
the rain poured down, with an immense sudden violence. I love when it does that, surprises you with its very occurence first, and then with its intensity. Love it especially when I'm safe inside, with a choice: I can go get wet if I want. This is a nice thought, because I know there's someone out there who got caught in the rain.
I choose to go get wet and walk barefoot around my soaking backyard, my heels skidding on the slickness of the worn wooden patio boards. When the rain hits the cement portion, it turns warm immediately, and my skin's confused with tropical at my feet and chill at my shoulders.
The lightning gives me some warning for the thunder, but it's a flash of light against white clouds and not very imposing. The strength of the rain is variable, and I can hear the change in the rhythm and weight up on the roof seconds before I feel it on my body.
I'm soaking and shivering by now, and I know that if I hadn't chosen this for myself I would be miserable. There are certainly people in the neighborhood who are miserable, their necks bent and teeth clenched as they hurry home against the slanting wind. But not me. I like that I'm in control and that they are not. I can go inside any time and strip off my clothes and wrap up in my ivy-print bathrobe and rainbow toesocks.
I think these smug thoughts, grinning, and then there's simultaneous crackle of light almost directly above my head and the loudest sound I've ever heard in my life.
It's like being inside the thunderclap.
I shriek, nothing I'd use on stage for dramatic, empathetic purposes: it's a shrill wimpy thing and while it's real shock-fear, it sounds fake even to my own ears. Perhaps I'm spoiled by Shakespearean wails.
By the time I get inside I'm shaking, almost fainting, and feeling ridiculous. I have to go back outside, of course. Something about getting back on the horse.
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| Precision Control |
[24 Jun 2002|10:25pm] |
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mood |
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accomplished |
] |
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music |
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Buffy musical |
] |
Just in time to wish
A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO andrush,
I've completed that Goyle/Colin Creevey.
I'd love constructive crit, actually. Almost more than praise. Since it's more believable in this case. And I'd like to have something to work with before I post this other places. So:
Precision Control
( warning: longish, R, weird )
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| pure poetry |
[24 Jun 2002|09:17pm] |
AFPN318: you are a darling rabbit
katiebec57: /me hops
AFPN318: HOP HOP HOP BOOM
katiebec57: NOOOO
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces everywhere
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces in my hair
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces red pink white
katiebec57: hahahahaha!
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces left and right
katiebec57: dear god
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces yes yes yes
Little rabbit pieces mess mess mess
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces, fetch the mop
AFPN318: Little rabbit pieces, they can't hop
katiebec57: /me gasps
AFPN318: ...I'm done now
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[24 Jun 2002|01:14am] |
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music |
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J&H - This is the Moment |
] |
At times like these (pointless frantic panic attacks that send me careening around my house, pacing and running and leaping and slamming into the walls), listening to angsty musicals is the way to go.
So EARNEST and PASSIONATE and EMOTIONAL. The VOCAL RANGE! The CHORD CHANGES! The way those well-trained and -amplified voices reach and reach and REACH for those high notes, and then soar and you get that somewhat embarrassing tight swelling inside your ribcage.
Jekyll & Hyde, Les Mis, Cabaret, RENT, Ragtime, Camelot...
"the greatest moment of them ALLLLLLLLL!"
hee.
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[23 Jun 2002|11:24pm] |
Am back from Houston. I forgot to tell most everybody that I was even going, so my return shouldn't cause too much of a wave. Still, I know you missed me. Except of course lcsbanana, because I was sleeping on her floor this weekend.
Houston is:
hot
Hazard Street
"Wig Mart" next door to the barber's college
a hedge in front of the Coca-Cola building that's trimmed to look like a coke bottle but really resembles a child's coffin.
reading "The Witches" out loud
Saw movies (The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys, The Usual Suspects, Twelfth Night, a Kilimanjaro IMAX), went to museums (Menil collection, Modern, and Natural History), and visited ailei, w00t w00t w00t! She is phenomenally cool, as are her nutty smart children (though I injured Nessa twice and then made her cry. She beat me in a chess game in eight moves, and then I beat her next game after a long tough battle. I have my pride.)
People should come to Austin and visit me. You all will have a roof and a futon! yeah.
ugh. you lj fuckers write too much. Also, the HO mailing list is causing me to tear my hair out. So much of it! Do I even need to read? Does my character do anything important in that game? No, no, not at all.
perhaps Blaise should kill someone, accidentally
or, like, have been part of the organ black market over in Mexico
okay shutting up now
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[19 Jun 2002|03:30pm] |
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mood |
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talentless |
] |
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music |
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Savage Garden - To the Moon and Back |
] |
This is my contribution to the recent fury of LJ snippets:
Harry stared at Voldemort. He had no wand.
"This sucks," he said.
But wait. Before he even had the wand, Harry had been able to do magic.
Harry stared very hard at Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra."
Voldemort died.
"We're all a bunch of idiots," said Harry.
THE END.
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| gratuitous lyrics post |
[17 Jun 2002|02:36pm] |
|
Remind you of anybody? ::amused, puzzled::
"Pacing the Cage", Bruce Cockburn
Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what it's pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you live too long
Days drip slowly on the page
You catch yourself
Pacing the cage
I've proven who I am so many times
The magnetic strip's worn thin
And each time I was someone else
And every one was taken in
Powers chatter in high places
Stir up eddies in the dust of rage
Set me to pacing the cage
I never knew what you all wanted
So I gave you everything
All that I could pillage
All the spells that I could sing
It's as if the thing were written
In the constitution of the age
Sooner or later you'll wind up
Pacing the cage
Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage
Pacing the cage
Pacing the cage
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[17 Jun 2002|02:35am] |
The furor over chanslash (ooh, look at the clever mixed Eastern/Western fandom word) has made me think this:
Now Ginny doesn't know whether she still wants Harry because of Tom, or she once wanted Tom because of Harry.
and I don't know what to do with it. It's just sitting there, in my head, making very little sense.
And ooh, andrush, coolest of the cool dedicated a picture to me. Go check it out. It is very pretty. But why does Terence look so sad? *snogs him*
I miss...Ely Jenks and Benedict St. Clair. They were mad sexy. want 'em back. should sleep now.
Made new icons! Will use them at some point, when I can be bothered.
Have sent emails all over the place inquiring after internships. cross fingers.
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| missing cuckolded rogue mutant amnesiac werewolf rapist |
[16 Jun 2002|01:23pm] |
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mood |
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owww |
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music |
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Madredeus |
] |
Last night, to attend a theatre/1940's radio performance entitled Intergalactic Space Nemesis Redux (or something like that), I wore three enormous silver hoops in my ears. Have never done this before. They're my sister's, and it was her idea: smallest and largest hoops in right hear, medium hoop in left. Looked great, and when the metal brushes against your neck it feels really sexy.
Unfortunately, now that they're out, the pierced parts of my ears have swollen up. I can feel a little ball of incredibly painful infected matter surrounding each. And when I push on them, pus oozes out. eeeewwwwww.
Also, the fact that six (count 'em, six!) characters over on HO have already noticed mine is oddly thrilling. Did you know, his father's a missing cuckolded rogue mutant amnesiac werewolf rapist.
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[14 Jun 2002|09:59pm] |
NO! NO! I DON'T WANT TO SEXUALLY HARASS ANYONE!
Especially not a former teacher.
God I hate RPGs.
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[14 Jun 2002|01:52am] |
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mood |
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surprised |
] |
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music |
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red hot chili peppers - emit remmus |
] |
1128 words so far on the insane Colin/Goyle for andrush and I'm going to bed, ta very much.
The file is titled 'pushing the depravity envelope'. But I think I'm pulling it off. I'm just THAT TALENTED.
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[13 Jun 2002|05:10pm] |
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music |
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BNL - if I had a million dollars |
] |
Hey.
Someone's writing Blaise Zabini into HO.
Now who could be foolish enough to do that?
(grumble grumble Bec-shaped hole INDEED)
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[10 Jun 2002|09:03pm] |
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mood |
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confounded! |
] |
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music |
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Chess! |
] |
Chess: One Night in Bangkok.
What the hell? This musical has me totally confounded. I found this mp3 in a folder. No idea why I have it. But...is this a musical about chess? All about chess? And who wrote it, ABBA? (If that's true I will swoon.) Why would chess champions sing songs in this style?
am so intrigued. need the CD.
[edited to add:]
And the fabulous lyrics!
a show with everything but Yul Brynner
I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine.
Siam's gonna be the witness
To the ultimate test of cerebral fitness
This grips me more than would a
Muddy old river or reclining Buddha.
I don't see you guys rating
The kind of mate I'm contemplating
I'd let you watch, I would invite you
But the queens we use would not excite you.
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| nipples |
[10 Jun 2002|08:56pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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frivolous |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Chris Isaak - "Wicked Game" |
] |
Back from sunny (ha bloody ha) Southern California, where it does rain, thank you very much. Amazingly, my boss has not yet called me back. She said she would on Wednesday. It is now Monday. I am washing my hands of the whole thing.
Thanks, everyone, for saying such sweet things when I was upset. (I am still upset, but I no longer desperately need sweet things said to me.)
I've got to figure out what I'm going to do this summer. I could, of course, apply myself ever more vigorously to my studies, but that sounds suspiciously similar to what I'm supposed to be doing during the rest of the year. The problem is that now it may be too late; all summer jobs taken. The way I had a summer job. Already. Except NOT. ahem.
But, well, maybe I can get an internship with the Rude Mechs or at Zach. There are always jobs in the service industry. I could work at Tapestry Dance Co. in exchange for free classes.
The world is full of possibilities, tra la la and all that!
All right, now I'm going to talk about nipples.
My long-time friend Robert just rang the doorbell in order to exchange Harry Potter #2 for Harry Potter #4. God, I miss trading baseball cards. (See, I've only read CoS once, and I own it in neither English nor Spanish, and since everyone's gone mad for Mr. Riddle, I wanted to brush up on my murdered-rooster lore.) I stepped outside to chat and we discussed his government/economics classes and my INSANE BOSS. I was wearing (still am, as a matter of fact) a loose white tank-top. The correct term is wifebeater. Hate that term. Anyway. In this shirt my breasts look small, soft, triangular (all of which they are), and my nipples are rather visible.
My mother has always warned me about this visible-nipple thing. Apparently visible nipples make men froth at the mouth. So to protect myself and them from their bizarre proclivities, I should always wear a bra in public.
Now most of you have never seen my breasts (yeah I know, it's a tough life), so I will take a moment to impress upon you how very unimposing they are. Though rather nicely shaped, they are not even A cups. If I want a bra to fit correctly, I need to buy special brands. The Victoria's Secret ladies have always been very accomodating, but they charge too much.
So it does not seem fair. Always? For nipples? Seeing, oh, I don't know, people's mouths or eyes might turn me on, but I don't insist everyone go about with full masks covering their faces in my presence.
Anyway I was worried maybe Robert was uncomfortable, but then I decided it would be more feminist to not care, especially since I sincerely hope I hold the same attraction for him that he holds for me: namely that of a drainpipe.
And that's it, the end of another scintillatingly intelligent post from Katie the Bec!
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