On my mind

[extemporally]

H'lo, all. I am sitting in Starbucks writing another university application essay right now -- or, oh no, I'm posting! -- and I'm listening to some Christmas carols. The last one ended with "what are you doing, what are you doing", which I am not sure is very Christmassy, but I enjoyed it anyway. Peace reigns on earth, for despite not being very productive I feel rather happy and contented right now. I would like some baked goods, but since I'm going to make those tomorrow anyway it shall be worth the wait. Brownies!

Suddenly I am looking forward to Christmas -- I haven't done my Christmas cards (brace yourselves for one in January, flist!), or bought any presents, or done much, but I feel quite happy. Yesterday my best friend came over and we watched the first three episodes of Life on Mars (Liz White, be mine), and looked at the job advertisements in the classifieds -- for the last couple of weeks there has been an ad that goes: "Japanese company requires 3 private detectives with own bicycle". Now what is up with that?? If it's still there in January my best friend and I, we'll go for it. Despite not having any detective experience at all. You need a hand-held camcorder too, I think.

Right now I would like to read fic about -- hmm, I wanted to say "boring adventures", but I don't think that quite covers it, incidents and adventures anecdotal in nature, the kind that becomes impossibly rambly with each recount and ends with the speaker breaking down in a kind of defeated "you had to be there, okay". Bicycles riding off into twilight, perhaps. Or the discovery of some unexpected artifact from the 70s, which must be returned to its original owner. I would also like to read a ficlet about Brendon cupping a fat bird, plump with feathers, very gently, in his outstretched palms. Or The Like staying in a guesthouse (a guesthouse, not a hotel, damnit) with flowery wallpaper that isn't hideous at all, or maybe a ballet AU. Things which are not beautiful and gritty, but beautiful anyway. I don't know if any of this makes sense, but I am feeling extremely self-indulgent today. I'll look at egelantier's reclist for drawn_to later tonight, maybe.

Right now I think I will type out the essay I just wrote by hand (I concentrate better when writing things out longhand), and edit it. If anyone would be willing to look at some of the essays I've written and help me out there, I would be most grateful.

Comments

[extemporally.livejournal.com]

And it tastes delicious! Probably he wiggles his ass when he cooks, but then again, when doesn't Brendon. <3

Of course it would have snow angels! And all the most absolutely cliched things about winter, and Z would wear a black scarf, and Tennessee would wear a tie-dyed one (is it possible to tie-dye wool? I don't think so! But whatever) and tease her about her colourlessness and throw the ends of her own colourful scarf on Z's head.

AND I WILL TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

Tennessee makes soup, and she wakes Z up to drink it. Z acquiesces quietly, and later the questions come, from Tenn: who are you? where do you come from? do you need to contact your family members? before eventually gathering that she'd been involved in a one-person hiking trip inspired by Into the Wild and had gotten lost, or run out of rations, or all three, and had tripped and fallen.

"I always intended to return," Z says earnestly. "I just lost my way, that's all."

Tenn's not quite sure if she should believe this strange girl with cold skin (here she hurries to get yet another blanket) and bright eyes, but she says nothing. When she calls the hospital again and describes Z's condition they say all is well and that she should be ok, so Z stays put, because outside the snow is piling in. (Tennessee doesn't think about the fact that Z will be right here, intruding on her self-imposed hermitude, until a thaw happens.)

Z gets stronger slowly, and progresses even to doing tiny errands around the house for Tennessee. It's nice. Tennessee'd forgotten how much she likes human company, even though most days she could go without it, how nice to know that she hasn't lost her voice yet, how nice to speak absently and have someone reply, how nice to have someone else in the house with her.

The days soon settle into a rhythm. Z's like a cat -- she doesn't sleep many hours at one go, but naps intermittently. This is good for Tennessee because the cabin is quiet most of the day and punctuated only by the sound of Z's breathing. And when Tennessee crawls into bed, she might wake up to breakfast that Z's clearly been awake for a while, to prepare.

One day, when Z's sleeping, Tennessee puts some Kate Bush on and dances thoughtfully and silently and carefully around the cluttered room, her hair whirling around the place.

When she looks over at the bed she finds Z sitting up in bed, her eyes wide and fingers clutching the bedspread, light from the fire flickering in her eyes. Tennessee coughs.

"Sorry, did I --" she clears her throat. "Did I wake you?"

(Oh god, I really really need some Like icons.)

[stealstheashes.livejournal.com]

You could probably make a plain scarf and then tie-dye it. DAMN IT, NOW I WANT TO TEST THIS :(

:DDD AND THEN WHAT HAPPENS?

(I need MORE. lol only grabbed the one, but I know famine_ghost made a bunch.)