that sweet, sad thought has faded now

It's 2 AM. I've had enough Tylenol PM to knock out a horse (not what I usually use, so even though I'm awake, I'm still fuzzy, and I'm probably going to be hung over when I "wake up").

I started on a piece of Aoshi dream sequence weirdness that currently involves the memory of a toddler Misao crying back when they first met her and also plenty of other things.

I feel dissociated from myself. Physically, I mean. Not quite like my brain is made of cotton. There's a bit of a Ketamine sense of lag, if you get what I'm saying. Not quite as bad as actual Ketamine lag, but definitely there. I'm the kind of tired that spells "any" as "anyway" and doesn't quite catch it. My brain's moving a little sluggish but my body can't quite keep up.

What should have been a dream sequence in which Aoshi has tea with his evil shadow in order to prevent Weasel theft (really, as with all my bizarre supposedly genius ideas, the blame rests squarely with leviathanmirror) has decided that this scene would work quite nicely in an original Gaiman homage. Thank $DEITY for WriteMonkey.

(Quick note: Porn set to "Secret Agent Man". *whipcrack* Hop to it, Katie!)

---

So there's this Vietnamese restaurant about three miles from my house. I've gotten halfway addicted to it because it is tasty. (Then again, I just love Vietnamese food.) I wish I could have gone with Brian yesterday while he was here, but we went to Peking House instead. Curry beef makes us happy.

So, yesterday we watched the entirety of the Star Wars original trilogy. We spent as much time humming along with the Imperial March and commenting on who lived, who died, and how EU fit in as we did making fun of it.

I've missed him. I'm missing him right now. (I'm also worrying about him, but he's driving from TN to Michigan, so.)

---

In other news, I dreamed last night that Ralph was moving to Tallahassee to be with Marge (his most recent girlfriend) because she was pregnant with his kid. This is bizarre for multiple reasons.... the chief of them being that Marge is about sixty years old. I seriously doubt she is capable of getting pregnant anymore.

Another reason this dream is bizarre? I don't really care what he does, where or with whom he does it, or why. Marge especially falls into my "do not care" area. I actually rather approve of her (god knows she's a damn sight better than Christie, because Christie did my grandmother's hair for the funeral).

I keep surprising myself with how weird I am.

---

Also, this recently came to my attention.

Dear you,

Count. Dracula. Doesn't. Sparkle. You picked the wrong vampire - try again.
Thanks for the attention, and have a sparkly good day.

My fury knows no bounds. I want to hold Stephanie Meyer personally responsible for the existence of whatever inspired this rant. I want to hold her responsible with fire.

THE ANONYMOUS WRITING FEEDBACK MEME

---

Downloaded WriteMonkey. All I can say is: typewriter noises are better than tickybox! They're almost better than in-jokes! (They're not even close to being better than the in-jokes about Aoshi and his weasel, though.)

The 60's Olympia sound pack makes me want to kiss my screen. And my keyboard.

---

Goddddd, why do I have this addiction to Yuffie/Tifa? I mean, apart from the fact that it's awesome, what is the source of this crazy kick?

---

So, "Eight Portraits of a Lady" is proving slightly more popular than I expected it to. It's funny; I wrote the entire thing in two sittings, just scrawled it out like it didn't mean anything at all. leviathanmirror beta'd it.

And people are apparently recommending it as good tragedy? ("Genuflected" is better, in my opinion, mostly because nobody seems to understand that it is tragedy. That relationship is not remotely okay.)

( Cut for notes on the care and feeding of Tifa's bar. )

"I have no such duty to an enemy."

I really, really do love Hannya quite a lot. You know how Chuck Norris is the internet standard of awesome? It should be Hannya. We should award really cool people with moments of Hannya's time.

If I had any fandom meta in me that wasn't about feminism or lesbians, I would write like a gajillion word essay about him.

---

Just for the record, I love OCRemix.org.

We have Zelda Heineken, a remix of the main Zelda theme played on beer bottles. We also have a ChronoTrigger remix: "JESUS CHRIST IT'S A DINOSAUR GET IN THE EPOCH!" (Yes. That's its title. No, I'm not lying. Click the link. You know you want to.)

HALP HALP HYOTTOKO'S NAPALM IS STICKING TO SANO!




...don't look at me like that.

Dear self,

Fiona Apple - Slow Like Honey is not a song to write violence to.

---

Dear family,

Non sum qualis eram. I am not what I once was. People change.

I get that you liked the old me better. I get it. I do. But the "old me" hasn't been around for at least two years. Possibly more.

"Old Katie" leave town go bye bye not come back.

Please stop ranting about how much you miss "Old Katie."

---

Dear Shoulder Aoshi,

I know you're voracious. You're still going to have problems keeping up with Misao. And I'm still going to laugh.

Ganked from telesilla: Give me two characters from different fandoms you know I'm familiar with, and I'll give you a dialogue happening between the two of them. Without justifying how the crossover would work, how their worlds clashed, or how they could even meet each other. Just a silly crossover conversation with no backstory, for fun.

Patrick Wolf - The Magic Position reminds me of Misao.

In other news, I've got chapter three of the RK AUniverse Fic done. Now working on chapter four; The Great Hyottoko has burst onto the scene, with Beshimi soon to follow, and Hannya hot on their heels.

Oh, god, tearful reunion. This part of the chapter's going to be so long.

Ralph's connection is driving me nuts. I may have to start using Meebo, because Trillian keeps having insane problems.

I hate this computer so, so much. I'm not sure how much of it is Vista interacting badly, how much of it is the fact that he didn't have it built with a fucking wireless card (so he's using a USB one), or how much of it is the fact that HughesNet sucks.

If I drop out in the middle of a conversation, it's not because I want to.

I hate Ralph's computer and badly need one of my own. Badly. This is driving me crazy. His Vista keeps breaking itself and not letting itself boot up. I keep having to grab the installation disc and fix the damned thing.

But, of course, Ralph has fucking hidden the installation disc, the box it came in, and any sign of it. So now I have to until tomorrow to fix it. Le sigh.

Goddamn fucking Vista.

...your comment on project story length runs like this:

nagia I just... tempkilling in chapter three or four? This thing's only going to be eight chapters (and that's an up-estimate), nine at the absolute outside.

nagia: Ten if things get freakish. And there are sudden rains of fish in my plot.

leviathanmirror: *grins*

I mean, I've always been kind of haphazard (I know my characters, I know what my conflict should be, I have a vague idea of what's gonna be flat fucking broke when the dust settles), but.

Rains of fish in my plot.

nagia: And it sets up the idea for later: even if I can't escape a stray onmitsu death (you never know with these guys; they love Aoshi a little too much and I'm pretty sure Hannya carries buckets of fish around with him *just to spite me*), then it might not be permanent.

EW, MISSISSIPPI SMELLS LIKE SEWAGE.

---

It's sad when you're keeping up an image of Shinomori Aoshi from the AU concept art as a reminder of the "feel" your fic is supposed to have. I stare at that image, write a little, look at it some more, read a little of "Shadows in Starlight" (which is a bit too dignified, considering how frequently it's narrated by Obi-Wan Kenobi Kenobi Obi-Wan; "Catch Me On The Ground" is a little more rough-and-tumble with some dystopian creep factor, Death Is Cheap, and occasional glimpses of affable evil or punch-clock villainy), and then go back and write some more.

When I'm not being distracted by TVTropes. I shake my fist at its seductive wikiness. It... is unimpressed, and continues to wiki seductively.

So, thank $deity, they have a laptop and a Verizon wireless card phone thing. I'm using it. I think they think I plan on sleeping, but I don't. I'll just stay up all night and sleep tomorrow night sometime.

So apparently we'll be in New Orleans around 0400. Alabama has really, really shitty roads. (This is not a surprise in the least. Alabama has really, really shitty everything, including people. I hate Alabama and most things relating to Alabama, and this roadtrip is not convincing me of any errors. At least TN has nice, smooth roads outside the cities.)

Apparently, I'm not actually going to SEE much of New Orleans, since it'll be dark. Lame, but I agreed. (Okay, I got blindsided out of bed, but whatever. Sixteen hours undisturbed with a computer. Apart from the sheer insanity of the situation, why should I be angry? It's almost enough time to re-read Vathara's "Shadows in Starlight.")

Hrm. Everything interesting is coming out parenthetical. This may bear watching. From a safe distance.

**ETA: We were just passed by a car with vanity plate "VG TAY." Thanks to leviathanmirror, my brain interpreted that as "Videogame Tifa/Aeris/Yuffie". I'm not entirely sure I'm wrong.

So, my mother just called. Apparently, they're just driving around New Orleans in their truck, and I'm expected to go with them. I'm halfway to saying "fuck you, no." Because, seriously, that is not going to New Orleans! That is going on a roadtrip for the sake of a roadtrip, and I do not do that shit anymore!

Look. I've done my time. All those mandatory nine-hour hauls to Tallahassee to see people I would gleefully murder? YEARS OF THEM. TWICE YEARLY. I'm road-tripped out. Particularly with family!

See, I know what's going to happen. I'm going to take a book. I'm going to read my book. My mother is going to get pissy because I brought a book and am reading it instead of paying attention to her.

I think I'm going to go off and shout "Augh!"

So, I went to bed before midnight. Naturaly, I woke up at two. (Naturally.) I finally got back to sleep at around eight, maybe. My grandfather walks into my room at 9:30, hands me his phone, and walks out.

From the phone comes a voice. In my distressed and tired state, I'm not even sure who the fuck is talking to me.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, but wake up! Pack a bag! You're going on a roadtrip."

My brain, very fuzzily, insists that it has no idea what the fuck he's talking about. Roadtrip whathtefuck.

"We're going to swing by your place tonight, take you to New Orleans, and be back sometime tomorrow."

Okay, now I think I'm starting to figure out who the speaker is. I think it's my mother's fiancee. Wait a minute, New Orleans?

"I've never been to New Orleans," says I.

"Well, you're going today."

Rick knows my weakness: I am too tired to ask the sane questions, like, "What the fuck happened to asking me, you dumbass?" Instead I say, "Yeah, sure, I'll pack, can I go back to bed now?"

So, later today, I am apparently going to New Orleans for the very first time! I'd better get me some fucking voodoo.

( Cut for teal deer )

( Cut for hugeness. )

Title: Dust Shall Eat The Days
Fandom/Pairing: Final Fantasy VII; Vincent
Rating: ESRB Rating of T for Teen < depressing >
Summary: Mortality, from the perspective an immortal.
Notes: I strongly suspect this thing will be the entry for "15. Aging" over at ff_fortnightly. Double drabble.

( Nothing really helps, but the routine makes things easier. )

Comment with the name of a character, pairing, etc in one of my fandoms. I'll post you an "instant" mini-fanmix: a cover and 3-5 songs that remind me of that character/pairing/show/etc. I'll upload the songs and everything.