Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Christmas joy and other miscellany

Ah....I pause here, in a moment of relaxation in the midst of holiday chaos, to catch my breath, and to say that I hope everyone had a Christmas as awesome as mine. It had its "ugh" moments, of course, but seriously, what holiday doesn't? Overall, it was quite grand. And now for the Reader's Digest condensed version....

Went to church twice on Christmas Eve. It wasn't too bad though, except for the PC alterations to classic hymns. These new hymnals* have removed practically every mention of "sons," "man," "his," and even "Father." wtf mate? Hark the Herald Angels Sing---born to raise us from the earth/born to give us second birth? I think not. It's the sons of earth, bitches. It's not chauvinism, it's the way the song goes. Gah!

That and the blue-haired old ladies pinching my cheeks and commenting how tall I'd gotten and how I look exactly like my mother. Looks like somebody needs a stronger prescription.....

Moving on....

Christmas day, Dad and I did some Santa-playing, which was quite fun. See, my cousin Dylan, who's always around playing with Michael, mentioned a few weeks ago that their family wasn't having Christmas this year, didn't have a tree, weren't getting any presents, and all the rest, because they didn't have any money. I have no evidence of the veracity of these claims, but I wouldn't be too surprised.

So anyway, Dad and I went out last week and bought a present for each of the three kids, wrapped and labeled each one "To: [kid's name] From: Santa," and put 'em in a grocery bag. Then on Christmas morning, we drove over to their house and Dad parked around the corner while I put the bag on the porch, rang the doorbell, and got outta Dodge. We think they might've seen the car as we drove off, but we're not sure. At any rate, it was fun playing elf.

Yesterday was our big family get-together at Mom's, with lots of fun and game-playing. I got my ass handed to me at Texas Hold 'em, made 15 cents playing Nickels, and then we had a very long, very rowdy game of Apples to Apples, and a couple rounds of Taboo. Grand.

Presents-wise, this was the year of clothing. I got a duster-type sweater, six shirts, two sets of PJs, and seven pairs of socks. The sweater kicks ass, and the shirts are all very nice (and needed; I previously had exactly two long-sleeved shirts that weren't hoodies), and the socks are all very fun. Neither set of PJs fit though, which made me sad. One was a set of footie PJs (you know, like toddlers wear, that zip all the way up the front) and I totally would've worn them at college, but they were juniors size instead of regular, and were too small.

Other highlights of my presents: four new CDs, a page-a-day Far Side calendar, and a copy of America: The Book. Le awesome.

And I now find myself cleaning up and eagerly awaiting Friday and The Party! Hope to see some of you there! And on that note, I'm thinking the 9-11 skating time, because Holly wants to come and she has to work in Fort Wayne until seven. Okay?

And now, to round things out, a couple excellent non-sequiturs.

Best ever out-of-context quote:

Be mindful that showers are slippery, cars aren't always roomy, and sex in a bathroom stall usually ends up with someone's shoe in the toilet.

It's from a site about writing fanfic smut. I don't write fanfic, let alone fanfic smut. Don't ask me why I read these things; you should already know I have no life.

I also found the best website in the entire world, and it is located here. Yes, that merited a new link on my bookmark bar.

*Okay so they've had these hymnals for at least six years now, but for at least five of those years, I haven't gone to that church regularly. So they're new to me.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

And then the Muffin said...

....Merry fuckin' Christmas, dammit!


Yeah. Have a good one. Have fun, be safe, don't kill your relatives, and do a little Christmas boogie for me! Do it. Muffin's orders.

So that's a big holiday hug for all y'all, and I'll see ya 'round!

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Yuletide suicide

Kinda like a slingshot suicide, but not quite. But more on that in a minute.

First off....I didn't sleep last night. At all. I was on the computer all night. Because I have no life and don't feel like sleeping when I should. So I spent some quality time surfing SVU fansites and other random places. It was a fascinating study in time-wasting, I must say. I napped for about an hour around noon today, and that's it. Ah well, maybe I'll actually be sleepy when I go to bed tonight. Which I plan on doing rather soon, actually. Or trying, at least. I really need to get this whole not-eating-or-sleeping-when-I-should thing out of my system before I go back to school in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS. Sheesh.

Well anyway, back to the title: about the time I noticed it getting light outside (so, probably eight something), the phone rang, and it was none other than my mumsy dearest, calling to tell me that the Christmas tree fell over in the middle of the night and broke. Yeah. Broke. Went Christmas kamikaze on us. It's a fake tree we've had since long before I can remember, and I knew the stand was cracked when I put it up, but I put a matchbook under it and thought it'd at least last the season. Apparently not. The stand broke, so the tree fell over, breaking the top section in half, and three or four of my favorite ornaments got broken in the process.

So, we got to go to Satan-Mart and get a new one, which is 7.5 ft. tall, as opposed to the old one, which I think was 6.5, or something like that....anyway, it's too big. And it's a pain in the ass to put together. And it's different, so I just don't like it on principal, because the other one was the tree from my childhood! Honestly. Not cool.

And then we got to decorate the damned thing....I hate putting up Christmas trees with my mother. We always (and I mean always) end up having a row about it, and it's just not fun. This year I was all happy because I put up the old tree when she was out of town, so I did it myself and it looked nice and there was no drama involved. But no, that's just too easy. Shee-it. But anyway, it's up now, so, yay. Even if it is kinda, well, ugly.

It's not ugly. I just don't like it.

On a completely unrelated note, I found out last night, in my online insomniac travels, that Stephanie March (the actress who played Alex Cabot on SVU) is a smoker. Or at least was in 2005. I was oddly surprised by this.

I'm going to bed.


Wednesday, December 20, 2006

reruns, speculations, and HoYay!

Warning: Extreme obsessiveness ahead. Proceed at your own risk.
Yeah, this is a journal exclusively dedicated to my Law & Order: SVU obsession. If you don't watch the show, you might get a bit lost. And it's long. Just a friendly heads-up there.

Also: If my fangirl musings are too dull for you, you might be interested in the most hilarious SVU fanfic ever (though it won't make a lot of sense unless you've at least browsed some other SVU fics before).

Another Tuesday night gone by with only SVU reruns to keep me company. No new episode; this is what, the third week in a row? And next week is a rerun too. I hate December. Stupid holidays messing with the TV schedules. Grr. My only consolation is that next week's rerun at least is an episode I somehow managed to miss the first time around, so that's something anyway. And it focuses a lot on Det. Munch, which is rare and should be cool. But it's still a Dani Beck ep, and I want Mariska, dammit!

So I'm left pining away for a new episode that won't air until January 2, with only a one paragraph summary from and the wild speculations of the USA Network Message Boards to hold me over. And I'm impatient. The new episode is called "Scheherezade," and the summary is thus:
Stabler agrees to hear the dying confession of a cancer patient named Judson Tierney (Brian Dennehy), but first he and Benson do some digging into what possible crime Tierney's guilty of and come up with an unsolved case that goes back 47 years. However, according to Tierney, that is merely the “tip of the iceberg.”

Now, of course, this is intentionally vague, and it only makes me all the more impatient, because I'm waiting (as are true fans everywhere) for THE REVELATION. The talented (and incredibly attractive) Mariska Hargitay revealed in an interview last summer that this season holds a major revelation for her character Det. Benson. There are many theories about this, some more credible than others. The one that's flying about most frequently at the moment is that it will involve her past, and more specifically, that the identity of her rapist father will be uncovered while digging through this Tierney guy's sordid past---47-year-old unsolved crime, anyone?

This certainly fits in with the "revelation" idea. My major question here though, is exactly how old is Liv supposed to be? Certainly not 47; that's just....old. More concretely, I seem to remember (though I wish to god I could find some proof) that M.H. said the big episode for Benson would be "Burned," which (if I'm not mistaken) is the ep after this one. So perhaps "Scheherezade" will turn out to be not so huge after all.

The revelation I personally am waiting for is for it to come out that Benson is a lesbian, preferably with some reference to a relationship between her and former ADA Alex Cabot. I want my HoYay! musings to be justified. However, while the first part I could possibly see happening, the latter, not so much. It could be implied though! Subtext is everything, people. Anyway, even if they didn't explicitly mention a torrid affair between her and Alex, I'd be satisfied with Liv's coming out. Correction: I'd be downright gleeful. That would merit a full-on squeeeeee on my part, and anyone who knows me knows that squee-ing is not something of which I make a habit.

However, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense that the "revelation" would be about Liv's father, and not her sexuality. While the L&O franchise doesn't seem too shy around non-straight characters (see the original Law & Order's Serena Southerlyn, for one), it would still be an awfully big step for a main character to come out like that and remain on the show (Southerlyn came out near the end of her run on the show, if not her final episode or two, and her coming out had a lot to do with her leaving, if I'm not mistaken---sorry I'm so vague here; my obsession obviously doesn't extend beyond SVU).

And besides that, I'm almost certain that the powers that be on this show highly enjoy messing with our heads on the subtext front. As it is, there is enough vagueness that any dedicated E/O shipper can steadfastly maintain that Elliot and Olivia are secretly getting it on under everybody's noses, while the A/O fans can imagine Olivia going home every night and pining away for her lost love Alex.

And I firmly believe that the writers get their kicks by giving us tantalizing hints that always fall just short of implying something, be it a more-than-platonic relationship between Elliot and Liv (see last season's tear-jerker "Fault") or a bittersweet tragedy between our favorite detective and the absent ADA Cabot (season 5's HoYay!-tastic "Loss"). If they were to come right out and say Liv was a lesbian, there would probably be a violent outcry from the E/O fanbase, and of course everyone knows that Liv and El can't hook up, because that would signal the end of the show, or at least its jump-the-shark episode. And so we are left with naught but subtext and fanfiction. *sigh*

But anyway, back to the revelation; yes, much as I'd like some hot girl-on-girl action, my more practical side tells me that it will indeed involve Liv's father, because they just couldn't afford to change the show's dynamic that much. And come on, the poor girl's gone her whole life not knowing; it would be nice to give her some closure.

Thursday, December 14, 2006


Sometimes I wish you'd ask. Just come right out and ask.

I know it wouldn't help anything; it would just make things harder, make it worse. But in some ways I think it might be easier. It would feel good, anyway.

I know you won't.

You came close once. It was at the height of my Rent fandom's visibility; I'd just bought the movie soundtrack, DVD, and movie poster all in one day, and rented and watched Brokeback Mountain the night before, and you asked me something close, like what was up with me watching all this "gay stuff" lately? What was the fascination? Something along those lines.

It was close. You almost wanted to ask. You skated right across the edge of the topic, so close. But not close enough. You left room, and I skated around it. I said I liked Rent for the music (which isn't untrue, but not the whole picture either) and I wanted to see Brokeback Mountain because it was so popular, I wanted to see if it was any good as a movie (also not a lie, exactly).

If you asked me, straight out, am I or aren't I, then I'd tell you the truth. I'm not going to lie. But you won't ask that. You're afraid to. You don't want to know, really. And I'm not going to tell you what you don't want to know.

You've got this, I guess it's a philosophy, almost. "I may not always love what you do, but I'll always love you." It has a few variations, but that's the basic concept. Which sounds all well and good, but it's not just about what you do, it's about who you are. It's like the Christian "love the sinner, hate the sin" idea, which I abhor. It's not acceptance, it's tolerance. Which is all well and good for perfect strangers, but for family? You shouldn't have to tolerate people you love.

Thursday, December 7, 2006

A day that will live in infamy....

Do you know what day it is?


It's funny, really, how much people hate snow by the end of the season. When that first muddy, brown patch appears in the yard in March, it's cause for celebration. But that doesn't stop them from waiting with bated breath for that first glittering frost of December, that first fluttering silver flake that signals the unofficial start of winter. We've forgotten, perhaps, how long and dark the winter gets. We're ready for the cold, sparkly veneer to wash away the dull leftovers of a summer that dragged out too long and hot, like it does every year. That's why I love Indiana weather; the summers are too hot and the winters are too cold and both of them stay too long, but hell, it keeps you on your toes. And when the seasons change, that first breath of spring or that first glistening snowfall is pure magic, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Yeah, it snowed today. Snew, if you will. Grand.

Wednesday, December 6, 2006

Tip O' My Hat, Wave O' My Finger

That's right. Just like Stephen Colbert.

To begin with, is it just me, or is dA feeling particularly buggy this evening? I'm trying to add somebody to my watchlist, and it won't let me. And my message center isn't loading properly; new messages aren't showing up, and old ones aren't going away. That's a wag of my finger to you, dA. Keep it up and I'm going to the HelpDesk.

Secondly, SVU was a rerun tonight. And not even a particularly good one. We are not amused. Seriously guys, if I wanna see SVU reruns, I can get them on USA three times a day (and often do). I want new eppies, dammit! That's a big wag of my finger to you, NBC. Ah well, at least it was a Mariska episode, not one with that evil Connie Nielsen wench.

Now, as the godless heathen I am, you might think I'd be annoyed by cheesy and ridiculously gaudy Christmas displays. And you'd usually be right. But sometimes, people surprise me. Take this, for example. Now that takes dedication, folks. So that's a tip of my hat to you, crazy, Christmas-obsessed decorator. You're insane, and you made me laugh. Rock on.


Completely unrelated to the theme here, but I want to talk about this: Evan Bayh looks likely to run for president in '08. I know, none of you non-Indiana people have heard of him (hell, some of my fellow Hoosiers may not've either. Slackers.) but, yeah. He's formed an "exploratory committee" to see whether or not he should.

I dunno how I'm feeling about this one. I mean, he is from Indiana, and he's not a Republican. But in some aspects, he kinda looks like a bit of a neo-con in liberals' clothing. Probably one of the reasons he managed to get elected in Indiana. Idk, given the choice, I think I'd rather see Barack Obama go all the way. But we shall see.

Monday, December 4, 2006


So, yeah, I'm feeling rather like a failure at life just now.

I don't understand some things like I used to. Or maybe I understand them better, and that's the problem.

My parents....well, they're my parents. They haven't changed. I know how to handle them. I've known that for awhile. But I think I've just now figured out that I know it. Or maybe I've just figured out the implications of having that ability.

I've been able to see their flaws for awhile now. I thought that was what happened when you stopped being a kid; you understand that your parents aren't perfect. I understood that and accepted it. But lately, I've realized there's more to it: now I not only see their flaws, but I'm bothered by them. Sometimes greatly.

Like, my dad. He doesn't go to church regularly, but he borders on fundamentalism in some of his beliefs (almost scarily creationist and anti-gay), he's an alcoholic (not violent or anything, but pretty heavily dependent on the Bud), not very educated, kinda racist, rather lazy and shortsighted, and he doesn't take very good care of himself.

I still love him. I like spending time with him. But it's so hard sometimes. He says some stuff that I would seriously injure other people for saying, but I can't say anything to him. There's a laundry list of topics I can't bring up with him anymore. More and more lately, I feel like I'm playing a role, acting the part of Daddy's little girl who I used to be. He did take the whole vegetarian thing rather better than I'd expected, but then again, it hasn't been much of an issue yet. And I'm sure part of him still thinks it's another "phase."

And then there's my mom. She's always got a to-do list for herself and everybody else within a five-mile radius, and dear god, she's wound up tighter than an emo kid's girl jeans! When I'm away at school, we can talk on the phone for an hour, no problem, and it's fine. But when I'm home, at her house, I avoid her at all costs, and when I'm at Dad's, five minutes on the phone with her is torture. idk. I think it's a relationship best had from a distance, if such a thing is possible.

To some extent there's even the taboo subjects thing with her too, and it's awful, because I used to talk to her about everything. Yeah, I guess it's been awhile since that was the case (coming up on what, four years now?), but still, I really miss it.

And I Still. Can't. Fucking. Sleep.

Seriously folks, this is not cool. I thought, being home and all, things might get a little better in that department. Well, judging by the timestamp here, you'll see I'm having no such luck. I'm supposed to be up at 7:30 to take my brother to the bus stop. I think I'll just stay up.


I'm sorry, I'm waxing emo here; please forgive me. I guess even the great and powerful Andrea must capitulate to the throes of teenage angst sometimes. Two cookies and my deepest sympathies for anybody who actually reads this steaming pile of shit.