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Right, so, did I mention that my siblings liked Doctor Who? As in, really, really liked? As in, my brother actually nagged Dad to put the second disc of Season I in the Netflix queue, pronto? (I would be doing the nagging, except that...I hate nagging. It makes me feel awkward. Fortuantely my siblings are braver than I.) As in, we spent half an hour trading fancrack this afternoon? My little sister says that she is a Time Lord, my brother thinks I want psychic paper for my birthday, and, guys? This is surreal. This is really, really surreal. (I also dispensed Useful Advice: "If you hear a clock ticking, but your clock is broken, you should probably leave the room immediately. Why? Because there will probably be a robot in a wig trying to kill you.")

[profile] ressie_noldo, this is all your fault. Well, okay, a lot of it is also [personal profile] avendyaand [profile] lady_moriel's fault. BUT NOLDO STARTED IT. 


Also: "It could be Russians with apian transporter beams stealing our bees, I suppose. ("Locked onto the hive co-ordinates, tovarisch." "Good. Bring them in.") God knows, if we don't listen to friends' mothers telling us what men in Wal-Mart said, we'll never learn anything..."

I love you, Neil Gaiman. I LOVE YOU. :D
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I'd never heard of steampunk before today (or, rather, I'd heard the term bandied about and didn't pay a great deal of attention), but reading some of the discussion over the really nifty thing that Neil Gaiman linked to in his Journal of Awesome piqued my interest, and off to trusty Wikipedia went I. Now, I am rather deleriously enthralled, and I must find some to read, or watch. Alternate history--I include in this alternate explanations of historical events--is also something that fascinates me endlessly (one of the reasons that Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell was so enchanting--did I never talk about that book? I didn't, and I ought to), as does speculative fiction, and, you know, that Victorian gothic aesthetic. 

The prospect more interesting than reading steampunk fiction is, of course, writing some, but the last thing I need is another novel to wrestle with, and I haven't got any ideas, anyway. It's really a pity that the Evangeline project can't be manipulated into a steampunk sort of universe, but, despite the plot being very vague, only one character having a name--I did settle on the surname Nox, by the by, for what it's worth--and the rest of the lot being twice as vague as the plot, it's settled its universe and aesthetics rather solidly already. I'm beginning to think of it in terms of, well, Anne Rice with a great splash of L.M. Montgomery. (You know, if Anne Rice wrote well.) Probably a few dashes of Gaiman and L'Engle for good measure, and hopefully a great deal of me, as it's my book and all and also all of these writers excepting Anne Rice are far, far more fantastic than I can ever dream of being anyway.


And. Um. Kind of odd specific-yet-very-vague music request, actually. Has anyone got moody, melancholy, atmospheric music that references the ocean, lost love, and preferrably both? I need a song about drowning, too. I'm particularly looking for music that sounds oceany, and a bit old, you know--not necessarily lacking in electronic instrumentation, but not screaming 'MODERN DAY!' at you in two-foot capitals, either. Currently I've got things like Dido's 'My Lover's Gone', Vienna Teng's 'Between', and some very awesome Solas songs that none of you except for [profile] lady_moriel is likely ever to have heard (and I don't think she's even got one of them). It's, er, for a mix. Which sprang out of nowhere because 'Between' was kind of perfect. It also happens to be a mix for an obscure branch of an obscure branch of the Tolkienverse (any 'The Mariner's Wife' fans out there? Hiiii...), and, um, yeah. I really do need a drowning song especially. 

Also, I made angelfood cake yesterday, and it was v. good.
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Dad brought a McGriddle home for me this morning, which is a particular treat as we do not eat out altogether often. He also bought, er, real bacon, rather than turkey. (I settled on the couch with a book to eat my sandwich, and our not-quite-kitten Bartholomew climbed up my chest in a desperate effort to make off with the sausage.) Also in the food department (comfort food is very important, you know): last night I put together a sundae with vanilla ice cream, Oreos, and m&ms, which was very cheering. Ice cream is a fantastic medicine.

I was listening to Vienna Teng while cleaning my bedroom (during my depressed funk in January it became even more of a disaster than usual; piles of clothing and books and papers everywhere); Dad heard it from the hallway and came in to ask what was playing, because it ('Whatever You Want') was very good. :D Vienna Teng, in general, is very theraputic. Quite a lot of her music is soft and warm.

[profile] midenianscholar called, and was comforting and encouraging and diverting by turns, and prayed with me. (She also posted me Switchfoot's newest album, which arrived yesterday morning. ♥ I still haven't had a chance to give it a proper listen yet: I've got to get really deeply acquainted with an album when I'm hearing it for the first time.) 

Last night, when I was feeling fairly awful, I checked my f-list, and was cheered to the point of actually laughing out loud by NEIL GAIMAIN'S JOURNAL OF AWESOME, because, seriously, you cannot read Neil and remain unhappy, especially when he makes a really splendiferous post like this one. The comments to the LJ feed were almost as awesome.

We visited Mum in the hospital this afternoon, and she is doing quite well; resting comfortably, has got plenty of books and more television channels that we've got at home (THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL, which I am vastly envious over). Her blood pressure's gone down some, but the doctors haven't been able to give us any real idea of when they'll let her come home. Heidi (who is nearly seven) is holding up the worst; she's always been very clingy, particularly where Mum is concerned, and she cried miserably when it was time to leave the hospital. Mum's singing her a lullabye over the phone right now.

People from church are bringing us food for the next five days or so: we got a meat and cheese tray + rolls this afternoon (Sunday lunch!), and spaghetti & meatballs dropped off for dinner, along with two loaves of Italian bread (my favourite!), soda, salad, doughnut holes, cookies, apples, oranges, and a Jell-o cake (how many people do they think we are, ten? :D), which seems to be a local phenomenon. It's not nearly as wretched as it sounds: I think it's got Jell-o mix thrown in with a white cake recipe, and there's a thick frosting slathered over the top. I have never, ever seen one of these outside of my particular bit of northwestern Pennsylvania; reckon it's like pumpkin roll and (less pleasingly) 'my hair needs washed' (unfortunately, not quite as only-regional as the others).

You lot? Are amazing. Really. I'm a little too emotional to respond to all of your comments, but, blimey, I love you. I love you all and you mean the universe to me. ♥ (And, um, this icon makes me happy. Yes.)

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