clowkitty: (Default)
Dear Count Dracula,

Please, don't take this the wrong way. It's not that I don't appreciate you for the fangie muse that you are -- and I admit you are quite respectably fearsome as the Vampire King. You are also creepily noble as the Lord of All Vampires. And no one, no one at all, can carry off wearing ruffles and lace as menacingly as you do.

All in all you are most gentlemanly, if a bit pushy about having your way at times, but that is to be expected when one compares our relative ranks.

However, I must rather insistently request that you forbear from poking into those files in my head that have no bearing at all on you, or your spheres of influence. It is most disconcerting when you do! My evidence of this disquiet you create is here:

Read more... )

I hope you understand my bafflement and restrain yourself in the future. Sir. If you could see your way to be so kind, that is. *sweatdrop*

Most sincerely,


PS - Please allow me to disabuse you of the notion of dressing as Santa Claus. I shudder to imagine how such a garish outfit would clash with and overwhelm your more subtle coloring. (And I'm way more scared of Santa Claus than I ever was of you!) :P

clowkitty: (Default)
It's been beyond stress today at work and I've an hour and a half more to go. My mind, in a desperate attempt to keep me from jumping across the counter and strangling someone with her own eyeglasses (yes, it has been that bad!) wandered over into the fanfic territory. This area is weird. Comforting to me, but weird.

At any give time I have vampires, talking cars, angels (both light and dark) angsty bishies, scary deities (Maahes and Suzaku currently, and Himself when he's being a pompous Lord of All Vampires, oh, and Death), rude snorting unicorns, erudite story-telling dragons, the Vamily and other assorted personages wandering about. Once in a while they fight. (Don't ask!)

Well, cooking in the VERY scary back of this part of my mind is a bad!fic on purpose. It's like the monster festering deep in the lagoon. I know it's there. I know it will rise. And I know nothing will be the same after it does.

Once in a while I get a glimpse of what this beastie is like, almost as if I catch a glimpse of a coil of a fast retreating serpent. Details are starting to emerge, and they are scary. Very funny, but utterly frightening.

D will be in the b!fop. So will Yami. There will be extra Millennium items. There will be an army of Mary Sues. Yes, be scared -- be very, very scared.

Oh, the sprain?

Pinky and the Brain. Yes, Pinky and the Brain will be in this abomination. Maybe I should have Pinky spout some Vogon poetry and see how many brain cells I can pop at once.

Waaaaaah!! I need a hug! :(
clowkitty: (Citan-sensei  *sigh!*)
I succumbed. I bought the dvd yesterday and watched it last night. My thoughts, something of a mini-review, are behind the LJ cut (to avoid spoilers for those who've not yet seen it).

If you liked the movie, be warned -- Overall, I'd give it a C. It's not the most horrible thing I've seen, but it is not a movie I'd recommend anyone going out to buy, unless you are a die-hard Yu-Gi-Oh fan who doesn't really care if the movie breaks its own canon.

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clowkitty: (Default)
It's bad enough my brain is full of muses who occasionally decide to battle each other over who gets a story from me first.

And I've griped before about how Left Hand seems to be my most contant muse, since I've managed to write quite a few stories featuring him -- but this is not good.

Evidently he's gotten out of the muse arena portions of my mind to poke about into my mental files and discovered bubble gum. He now wants a scene somewhere, where he is chewing bubble gum and blowing bubbles.


For those who know who D and Left Hand are, just think about it. Making me giggle like a madwoman at work over D's offended dignity is not cool, but Left Hand doesn't care.

He's being very insistent about it too. Methinks I need to start writing my "bad-fic on purpose" soon.
clowkitty: (Default)

[ profile] lucidscreamer made a nifty picture for me of Jack Skellington cosplaying as Yugi from Yugioh and posted it to her LJ.

I thought it might be fun to see if I could make a pic in return for her.


Ha, ha, ha, wheeee!

clowkitty: (Citan-sensei  *sigh!*)
Sky blue, who smells faintly of lilies.

He should be able to fly, breathe fire and turn himself into a nifty 4-wheel drive vehicle.

I'd call him Percival.
clowkitty: (Citan-sensei  *sigh!*)
The 'puter I used to use here at work ate itself a few weeks ago. The one I got to replace it is new to the office, but not new (the boss' son wanted a laptop, so we got his old desktop) but it is more powerful and faster than the old one. However, it has some sort of upgraded speaker system and the special power cord wasn't sent along with everything else, so I've got this lovely powerful computer, chock-full of music ability and no way to get at it. The funny thing is, all I ever do is listen to cds anyway. So, I tried to plug in the stupid little speakers that work on anything and this is so upgraded that it laughs at them. Or something. At any rate, no sound comes out.

Instead of hunting around to get the special power cord I need for the upscale speaker system, my boss opted to get me a Sony Dream Machine, so I'm not complaining. I have music at work again! Wheee!

I haven't been carrying my usual cds to work (as there's been no need) so I have some of my older ones that have just been hanging around here. I'd forgotten how much I liked Supertramp's songs, back in the day.

Breakfast in America (1979)
The Logical Song

When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful,
a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily,
joyfully, playfully watching me.
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible,
logical, responsible, practical.
And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable,
clinical, intellectual, cynical.

There are times when all the world's asleep,
the questions run too deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am.

Now watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical,
liberal, fanatical, criminal.
Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're
acceptable, respecable, presentable, a vegtable!

At night, when all the world's asleep,
the questions run so deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am.

I'm probably always going to like this song, especially when I'm at work running through the stupid little track of the rat-race.
clowkitty: (Citan-sensei  *sigh!*)
Yeah, I've got a head full of vampires again, which undoubtedly means a new fic will float up from the scary depths of my brain again.

This song is from the Castlevania: Symphony of the Night soundtrack. From what I understand, in the second release of the Japanese version of the game, the second fairie (there are two fairies in the Japanese game) would sing this to Alucard if he fell asleep in the chair in the truly tasteless orange room hidden in the Library.

Language: Japanese

megami wa eien no shiawase no naka de
nageki tsuzukete wa utau NOKUTAAN*

ai wa owaru inochi mo tsukiru, sore nara
onaji toki ni ito wo kitte

kamigami no kawaki ga umi no oto wo keshi
muku na ookami wa kodoku ni taeru

yume wa sameru yoru mo akeru, sono mae ni
chigau basho ni hari** wo mukete

Language: English

The goddess is in Eternal happiness
My continuing sorrow Is the nocturne I sing

Love Ends Life also runs out, If that happens
At the same Time Cut the thread

The thirst of the gods Makes the sound of the ocean disappear
The innocent wolf Endures in loneliness

Dreams Awaken Dawn also breaks, Before that
To a different Place The needle points.

Awwww! Poor Alucard!

clowkitty: (Default)
There are going to be numerous tributes and news programs reviewing his life, public and private, and going over the many decisions he had during his two terms as the President of the United States. It doesn't matter where in the political spectrum you fall, he had impact on America and changed the course of history. For better or for worse is going to become the crux of many of the broadcasts, I'm certain.

For me, he was a hero. He's a hero because he made the biggest fear of my childhood go away.

I'm in my thirties and have lived all of my life within 50 miles of Washington D.C. When I was in grade school, I remember a time of particular tension, and sadness, when the teachers in all sincerity urged us not to vex our parents, for they didn't know from one day to the next if we were going to go home safely. I have no idea what incident sparked all the concern, but there was talk of the U.S.S.R. possibly bombing the Capital.

We learned in Science class that a bomb dropped on Washington D.C. though we were miles and miles away, would kill us from radiation.

In History class, we learned of this war, called the Cold War, where two major powers in the world, the U.S. and the U.S.S.R., promised each other that they wouldn't start anything, but if the one side did, the other would make certain that the side that used the 'First Strike' would be destroyed. We learned that we had enough firepower in stockpiled bombs to destroy the world 14 times over.

Whatever political upset had all the adults in an uproar died down in just a few weeks, but it left a deep impression in me.

I feared the U.S.S.R. They were monsters who would destroy the world for pride, who oppressed their own people, and all the horrible things, real and imagined, that the history I had been taught, ascribed to them. I was certain that the world would end in a nuclear war, destroying the planet for everyone, forever, because of them.

(I know now that the history I had been taught was definitely one-sided, and that the U.S. could have plunged us into my nightmares. That nightmare world is still around today, as many of the world powers have the means to bring it about. But to my younger self, the world was very black and white, evil and good, and the U.S.S.R. was definitely the one and the U.S. obviously the other.)

It was a time of quiet, but black despair for me. I remember a couple of years where I didn't speak much, afraid that I would use up all the words alotted to me and thus find myself mute when I would be on my deathbed. I wouldn't allow myself to care about others, fearful that I was creating hostages to fortune if I did. You see, if a bomb were to be dropped on us, and I and my family were fortunate enough to survive it, I would be sad if my friends did not. So, would it not be better to have no friends to be worried about?

It was in these years that I started writing stories, in my head mainly, because I WANTED friends. I was just too afraid to have them, afraid of the pain of losing them. My stories were always with me, so they would only be lost if I were, and if I were already dead, it wouldn't matter if my stories were too, as no one else even knew about them.

Morbid? Heck yes. I was quite a morbid little child for a couple of years there. I went off to high school, made friends, got my first part time job, graduated, got my first car, in short, grew up and left most of that morbid little girl behind, but my fear of the U.S.S.R. was never that deeply buried, and my concern about nuclear war still haunted me.

Ronald Reagan made a miracle happen. We now know that it was a bluff, a planned, expensive bluff, but he bought peace. Not only did he make the black and white of the Cold War go away, he showed that the Russians are people too. Not monsters, but people, just like me. Fearful of the same things that I was fearful of. Wanting to live, feeling despair, writing stories, all of it, just like us.

The end of the Cold War liberated me. I still fear things and I still worry, but not all the time and not with the morbid vigor I once did. The world may yet end in nuclear war, but before it does, I'm going to enjoy my life and not fear my death. I'm going to introduce my friends in real life to the friends who live in the sunny and shadowed pathways of my mind. Perhaps the real life ones won't like the story ones, but that's okay. It is the sharing of the imaginary friends with the real life ones that is the breakthrough for me here. I don't need to jealously hold stories to myself when there are real people to share them with - real people who are more dear to me than any imaginary ones could ever be.

Are these friends still hostages to fate? Of course. But if I don't let my fear rule me, that fate isn't necessarily as black as I had once imagined.

It is Ronald Reagan who freed me from that fear. That is why he is my hero. That is why I'm sad today.
clowkitty: (Default)
Just a review/guide I'm writing for Saga Frontier. I just wanted to get it from my work pc to my home one and am too lazy to do it via email.

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