moragmacpherson: Reverse Big Bang art! (spn rbb)
Oh, bespoke waiter, why must your breath-taking beauty, even with a lousy haircut, rob me of all powers of intelligent or even coherent speech?  I might be able to woo you with my wits but everytime I see you my tongue gets all mushy and I start to drool a little bit.  And once again, I left my take-out container on the table afterwards because I had to run out of the restaurant and go fan myself before I regained the capability for rational thought.

And yet over at the love meme, my beloved f-list keeps accusing me of being intelligent.  Foolish mortals - you've never seen me wilt in the light of the Adonis of my libidinous dreams.  Despite your misconceptions, however, I still love you all and remain totally humbled by the concept that such awesome people are so fond of my absurd scribblings.

moragmacpherson: (Default)
I woke up this morning and found some interesting drafts of emails open on my computer.  I don't know if any actually got sent; so, a blanket explanation as follows:

I was working on thesis pretty much all day Tuesday and yesterday morning and coming up with great steaming piles of monkey dung.  When I'm frustrated by that kind of writer's block I tend to go looking for some hard physical labor -  my body pleasantly sore and exhausted, I usually have a brain that makes more sense afterwards.  Don't know why, but it works.

So, no problem - I have a local co-op where friends live that I'm always happy to help out with things.  We were digging new planting beds, getting good progress in.  Until I lift the shovel up one extra bit.  And dislocated my shoulder - my right one did it once about ten years ago and ever since it'll do it again if you ask nice enough.  Still hurts like... well, it's not good.  The guys popped it back in - which somehow always hurts worse. And then they gave me an old prescription muscle relaxant for the pain and got me home.

Which can be the only explanation for some of the wacky shit I was apparently writing to people last night.

Moral of the story: always be careful when your buddies at hippie co-ops offer you pain killers.

moragmacpherson: (Default)
Yea, though I went to W00tstock and it was good.

And lo, though Neil's plane was delayed due to lack of paperwork such that Adam Savage was forced to incoherently introduce the show, Neil arrived with a giant print out of Wil Wheaton, and it was good.

And yea, so it was that Paul and Storm realized that there were a pair of ASL interpreters on duty and pronounced that, "This is so not a toy we're going to play with until it's breaks," and this was to prove a prophecy filled with much truth.

And lo, Bill Amend did appear onstage and make the unlikeliest of connections: Marmaduke and 2 girls 1 cup.  And there was much rejoicing.

And then did Neil Himself appear on stage and read two stories, including one which included the words 'elephant spunk' and thus was a new meme born.

And then there was much additional silliness including a song about having Stephen Fry's baby and the Red vs. Blue people and the exceptionally funny man responsible for banning people from X-Box Live, and all of it was good.

And lo, Adam Savage took the stage and was much better spoken, and we did learn that if Jamie Hyneman would fuck his couch if it looked like Angelina Jolie and then Adam did realize that he'd just witnessed the ASL sign interpreters make the sign for 'cocksucker' and there was much rejoicing.

And in the end all four hosts did take the stage and I do not think that the words 'elephant spunk' have been said so many times in rapid succession such that the ASL interpreters turned beet red with laughter, and it was all very silly, and if I could marry Neil's voice, I would.

And there was much rejoicing.

Checking In

Nov. 2nd, 2010 12:24 pm
moragmacpherson: (Default)
I know I've been out of touch and that's only going to get worse for the next month.  Sorry guys!

1.  Reverse Big Bang fic is done!  And 25,000 words long - only five times the minimum, heaven help me.  And the art for it is amazing - can't wait for the rest of you to see it on November 7.  So much love to jjhunter and dollarformyname for working with me on it.

2.  xover_exchange fic is half written. 

3.  Need to work on my report now.

I'm not keeping up on anything, I'm dreading the election results tonight, but fuck it, I'm going to go see Neil Gaiman, so I'm just going to laugh and keep pressing on.
moragmacpherson: (Default)
Who's going to see Neil Gaiman at Wootstock on November 2nd?  I'm going to see Neil Gaiman on November 2nd!  Woot!


Oct. 16th, 2010 10:56 pm
moragmacpherson: (Default)
Was supposed to do a number of things today.  Wound up sitting on the side of the road with my brother waiting for the Triple A truck to show up for two hours.  So, hanging out with baby brother?  Accomplished.  What feels like a mild case of heat exhaustion?  Hydrating as we speak. 

We did go and see Red instead of going hiking due to aforementioned probable heat-stroke - it did the comic justice (boy, the Boomers are grouchy about aging, but that was in the source material) and the cast was fantastic.  But things of writing that require concentration and thought?  Those are going to have to wait until morning, when I don't feel like I have the hangover from hell.
moragmacpherson: (Default)
My brain is much smarter than me sometimes.

I've been struggling with my MA report topic for a few weeks now - it's not in the field I originally wanted to work in but in one that I chose because I lost my old adviser.  The new one's the first guy who ever made philosophy make sense to me and this particular issue is a difficult topic that bridges five disciplines that don't talk to each other and use the same words to mean different things and oh, it takes place over 700 years and involves translating complex philosophical theories in and out of at least six different languages - which also use the same words to mean different things.  All of my outline attempts thus far have been way too philosophy - a field where I'm still a noob - and not nearly enough history.

Until I woke up at 3:30 this morning for a cigarette and then sat down and wrote an outline.

For eight hours.

It's seven pages long, single spaced, made up almost entirely of argument with references to some evidence but no actual citation.

I turned it in.  The adviser didn't have time to look at it yet, but while we were talking seemed to agree with most of my ideas.

If it works: it's brilliant.  Emperor's new clothes type potentially revolutionary shit.  If it doesn't work, I'm a complete asshole.  That's how things shake out sometimes.  I really hope it's brilliant.  I don't have any other ideas.  Professor said to poke him if I don't hear back in ten days.

But for now, i'm going to sleep.  People whom I owe things: I'll get to them after a nap.
moragmacpherson: (demented)
In case there was any doubt as to how much of a fan-girl I am:

My team just won the Masters of the Whedon-verse Pub Quiz.  Against thirty-three other teams.  By ten points.  And there were only three of us (out of a maximum of six) on our team (J & C - if you see this, ladies, you rock my world).

::sings:: I got a hundred doll-ars, I got a hundred doll-ars! /singing

Where's Freddie Mercury when I need him?


Sep. 3rd, 2010 12:21 am
moragmacpherson: (delirium)
So I got to go to the Machete premiere tonight and had a great deal of fun people watching before the show.  Austin doesn't do red carpets quite like most places: there were as many people in ripped t-shirts as gowns, and judging by the pictures from Venice, Robert Rodriguez hasn't changed his clothes in 48 hours.  But he did make a point of going out of his way to shake the hand of my favorite usher at the Paramount, an 83 year old lady with a cane who doesn't take any guff from anyone, so he gets full credit for that.

I never go to a Rodriguez film expecting deep social commentary or anything: I want shit to blow up and gore and for each character to be more bad ass than the last.  And you get that.  But one of the things I do love about him is that in a movie with more casual female nudity than has been seen on screen since... well, Sin City, probably - it also passes the Bechdel test with flying colors.  Every character Rodriguez writes is something of a cartoon, but his women kick just as much ass as his men do

Still not sure what was up with Lindsey Lohan's character though.

Oh, and when la revolucion comes, it's going to be a procession of low riders.  I so wish I had been in town to watch them film *that* sequence.
moragmacpherson: (delirium)
Link is located here:

1,000+ word fic with a starting bid of $1

We'll see if it gets any takers

ETA: Current bid is $5.  Woot!

moragmacpherson: (overwhelmed)
So the AP is reporting that George Steinbrenner's died of a heart attack.  I'm not a Yankee fan (Mets, because I'm a masochist), but I was raised by one, and so George is one of those figures that has always been a part of daily conversation, either rants, jokes, or sincere perplexity at what the hell the man was doing.  He brought seven ticker tape parades to New York, was wonderfully poked fun at by Seinfeld, and was just part of the fabric of life here.

Yesterday Harvey Pekar died.  That was someone whose writings changed my life, and I was deeply saddened to hear he was with us no more.  But having George Steinbrenner pass away some how feels like more of a gut punch.  Sentimentality is a funny thing.  So, here's to the Boss: and maybe he'll convince Satan to get rid of that damn goatee.

moragmacpherson: (delirium)
So I'm in the middle of the day after being sick - which is quite a bit different than the day after being hung over.  Last night I woke up at 9:30 (because drowsing eighteen hours out of the day for four days plays all sorts of hell with your internal clock), managed to survive the three minutes that it takes to microwave chicken noodle soup, and then inhaled it for all that it was worth.  I drank some water and then conked out for another twelve hours of blessedly dreamless sleep (my fever dreams are seriously messed up).

This morning I popped open my computer to see what's been going on while I've been busy counting the tulips on the wallpaper in my parent's bathroom (they seriously need some more entertaining wallpaper).  It appears that I emailed some people - I'm sorry if those emails were curt/rude/nonsensical, I honestly don't remember sending most of them.  I appear to be watching several threads on spnpermanon, and apparently I've been posting there - hope to hell I'm not a troll, but all things are possible.  Also, I apparently lost my mind and commented while logged in on an RPS story, finally letting the cat out of the bag on the last of my secret guilty pleasures.  I feel much freer now, but I've always had a thing for shamelessness.  And looking back on the story I commented on, at least it was a good one. 

And then I notice that holy mother of hell, OpenOffice is closed.  Understand: OpenOffice is never closed on my computer.  It's more likely for Firefox to be closed, and that happens... well, I understand that Internet Addiction is either in the DSM IV or will be in the DSM V and next to that definition will be a picture of me.  So, yeah, OpenOffice is closed, and so it was with great trepidation that I opened it back up and checked my recent documents.

Next chapter of AGAHTL?  Gone.  My outline for my Master's Report project that I hate but know I can do and get the hell out of grad school?  Gone.  Fifteen pages of BigBang beta?  Gone (but not gone as far back as it should be, curious, there are notes on it marked yesterday, which means I actually noticed this yesterday but was too sick to care about my own stuff, but feeling guilty about being a bad-Beta, cause that's how I roll).  TEN THOUSAND WORDS OF MY CASTIEL/JACK HARKNESS PLOT BUNNY? GONE.  And that may be the mofo that kills me, because I love that damn story so much and I'm finally writing a slash story I believe in and I was so bloody close to finally sending it to beta but now I'm back to a bare opening scene, and I might just cry here and now. 

Instead I read a schmoopy as hell curtain-fic and took three hours to eat a sandwich.  Sigh.  Anyway - getting the flu in the middle of the summer sucks, I miss you all.
moragmacpherson: (delirium)
Totally got shushed at the theater tonight while watching Iron Man 2. Spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen it yet underneath the cut.

Some people need to read up on their Marvel mythos... )
moragmacpherson: (anger)
I thought I was inured by the end, thought there was no mistake that could send me back to the liquor cabinet.  Then I read this:

The American Colonization Party [sic] focused on the enlightenment of Africans.  Converting Africans to that of American ways proved to be successful yet difficult when it cam to convincing Africans to move to American land.  Nevertheless, with locations such as Liberia founded, Africans would still become a part of the United States growing reformed change.

Seriously.  Now they're just fucking with me.
moragmacpherson: (anger)
So I realize that the majority of my f-list is, in fact, European, but I know at least one of you is in an American studies program at university, so I challenge you: how many levels does this sentence fail on?

"In 1763 Thomas Jefferson began the constitutional period by starting to write a new constitution which he called the declaration of independence."
moragmacpherson: (illumination)
My dearly beloved Roomie is not a participant in fandom, but she watches most of the same things that I do, reads a lot of the same things I do, and teases me for my fanfiction and internet addiction in general.  This leads to exchanges like this one from last night, when I finally watched Avatar on her parents' Home Theater System of Doom:

Me:  Eww... ganglia.  Do the Na'vi stick those into everything?
Roomie:  Pretty much.  They also have tails.
Me:  ::shudders::  Remind me never to read the fanfic.
Roomie:  ::grins::  Rule 34 is a cruel mistress.

Some other fun fandom observations from Roomie in the last few weeks )
In other news, my [ profile] sncross_bigbang  fic got claimed by an artist!  It's very exciting, I can't wait to see what she comes up with.  I'm also looking at the story for the first time in about a week this weekend - having given myself a break, I'm hoping I'll be able to see the text with clearer, more objective eyes.  Deadline's May 3rd for both me and the artist, it's going to be really exciting for me to see what this fic's final form looks like (and you'll all be happy that I've stopped nattering about it)
moragmacpherson: (Default)
Riding home from dinner tonight (Red Lobster's seafood is mediocre at best, but not even I can deny the allure of Cheddar Bay Biscuits, nom nom nom), singing along to Three Dog Night when Roomie turns to me and says, "It's 'That's not the way to have fun, son.'"

Me:  "Not, 'That's not the way that was'?"

Roomie:  *Shakes her head*

Me:  *Listens to the chorus a couple more times*  "You're right."  *Listens to chorus again*  "That makes a lot more sense.  So I've been getting that wrong for the last twenty years, huh?"

Roomie:  "Yep."

In other news, just got back the beta of Ye Olde Big-Bang fic from my familiar-with-SPN-only reader.  It was overwhelming... and positive.  So there's hope that I haven't spent the last two months obsessing over a piece of crap.  Yays!
moragmacpherson: (Default)
Mmm... okay, about a half gallon of whiskey and I don't really want to think about how many cigarettes later (there's a reason I went with Marianne Faithful for the title here), a few thoughts and anecdotes from SxSW:Links, recs, and drunken celebrity sightings... )

And thus spring break ends.  As for my big bang fic, Dean is safely ensconced with Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax, so I think I'm only a couple thousand words from the end, which is good, because at some point this semester I should maybe write something academic.  Just for shits and giggles, y'know. 


moragmacpherson: (Default)

January 2016



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