I don't know what to say.

On the one hand, Obama is president. I feel so much more hope and possibility now than I did last week. The news came yesterday while I was in rehersal: my stage manager's mother texted her, and she interrupted our runthrough to say "You guys, Obama is president!" That completely disrupted rehersal for a while, of course. There were jumpings up and down, and screamings, and cryings, and our director let us go in time to catch the last half of his acceptance speech. I cried again, because yes we can.

On the other hand, Prop 8 passed. Words cannot express my disappointment and sadness. There are so many people in California now who cannot enjoy a basic human right, because the church-based groups mistook the government for a religious authority. That's basically all it is, and it makes me hurt inside. On the bright side, I suppose, those who are already married will stay married. There's nothing people can do about that. But those who were going to get married? They have nothing now, and I cannot understand the kind of mind that would accept or encourage that.

On the right foot, our government is so very clunky and impossible and slow to act that it's really hard to get anything irredeemably stupid done. I have hope that with Obama as president, we may be able to overturn Prop 8, either by reamending the California constitution or by fighting it up to the Supreme Court. I believe that someday we can make this better, and I believe that we have hope now, which we didn't have before.

Also, Prop 4 is looking like it's not going to pass. Which makes me happier.

AND VIRGINIA WENT TO OBAMA. You guys, OMG. Virginia has been Republican for the past ten elections or something like that, and it went to Obama. That says something. Part of it must be my baby brother finally eligible to vote, but there's something else there too. Virginia, adopted home, I'm proud of you. Keep up the good work.

I am furious with my aunt and her inability to do basic quantitative reasoning. Yes, Auntie, 10% of wage-earners pay 50% of income tax. THAT IS BECAUSE THEY MAKE MORE MONEY IN A MINUTE THAN I'VE MADE IN THREE YEARS. They can spare the money. I and the other people who do not make a living wage cannot. I say the people who earn the assloads of money can fucking spare a dime or two to send their kids to school and see to it that the roads are maintained.

Also? Not all people politically left of Dick Cheney are traitors or homo-loving America-hating pinko commies.

I am so tempted to tell my father's family that I'm a lesbian, just to see whether she backpedals frantically or disowns me.

1) Fingersmith? Is MADE OF AWESOME. It's by Sarah Waters, and if you have any interest in Victorian-esque literature, Dickens pastiches, or cons within cons within plots, read it. Such a fabulous book. And I'm only ten chapters in.

2) Mansfield Park? Made of not so much awesome. Figures my least favorite Austen book would be the longest. At least I'm sick enough to skip class today.

3) Math test was postponed to Friday. This is good; it means no homework over first weekend of Esco.

4) NaNo starts next Saturday. This is bad; it means writing all throughout second weekend of Esco.

5) LEGALLY BLONDE AND SPRING AWAKENING: I am going to go see them both. Fuck yeah. I just have to find the money to go to Legally Blonde and still, yanno, live in Copenhagen. I suppose that's what my savings account is for.

6) Got Irresistable Forces! Now all I need is Dreamweaver's Dilemma and whichever book the novella Borders of Infinity is in, and I'll have read all the Miles Vorkosigan material currently avaliable. Thank goodness Lois is writing a new one.

7) New SJA tonight! The new series is really quite fabulous. So far we've had an excellent goodbye for Maria, a Sontaran, a cool new girl and her wicked awesome family, and at least two incidents of "mess with her son and Sarah Jane Smith will fuck your shit up." I'm looking forward to the Brig and to more Mama Bear incidents.

8) I miss my daddy. I want to go home and see him. :( Just over five weeks until Thanksgiving and I will see him then. I really should buy my ticket home.

9) Finally got Confidence started again. Let's see if I can get it finished before NaNo starts again!

10) Hallowe'en ficathon story is about half-plotted. Pris, I may need to babble at you about it on Tuesday. There's some plot snarls I'm trying to work out.

11) Five days until Esco! This means guild-family, possibly including Opa (I hope so, I miss Opa and he makes me miss my daddy less), Vlad (\o/), learning to kick ass (thank you, Black Guard), ponies, and incestuous camp of love and doom. It also means Runt and the Wilds, Evil Plans (tm), candy, knitting, and chilling with Katie. We are going to go to the Bawdy Juggler show since neither of us has seen it. Fun shall be ours!

12) Liz's scarf is about half done and twelve feet long. What have I gotten myself into...

Pris: I have class Monday night. Shall we say Tuesday at 6ish PST?

Katie: Likewise, Tuesday for that thing we talked about. I'll call you. ETA: Also, I have your crochet hook and am holding it for ransom. Bring hugs to my dorm room at midnight. Don't contact the police. ;)

El and Sarah: I'm going to call my mom tomorrow and check our Legally Blonde outing with her. I'll drop you an email when I know for sure.

Puck: I need to talk to you. Will you be on late Monday? I have class until nine PST. Is v. important. I need advice.

to-do
-read Fingersmith
-catch up journals (1, 2)
-journal for 9/19
-pick out Freud passage
-talk with Julie re: close-read
-read Mansfield Park
-choose book for paper
-response paper
-critique stories (1, 2, 3)
-read stories (1, 2, 3)
-response paper
-catch-up response paper
-story (14 copies)
-catch-up math homework (1, 2, 3, 4)
-read Wicked Lovely
-read Austen handout
-read The Brontes
-important thing
-shower
-scarf
-NaNo prep

Dear World:

What the fuck am I so scared of?

Please answer immediately so I can get rid of these free-floating panic attacks.

Yrs.

Kathleen

Take a look at this cover. That is A Civil Campaign, one of the more recent books in the Miles Vorkosigan saga. Looks like an okay cover, doesn't it? Kind of cheesy, but hey.

Now realize that the couple in the center is meant to be Miles and Ekatarin. Now remember that Miles Vorkosigan is four foot nine. Now remember that Miles should therefore be on an eye level with Ekatarin's breasts and thus looking at them far more obviously. As if that's possible.

Also remember that neither Ekatarin nor Cordelia is blonde, but that's neither here nor there (black-haired and redhead, respectively, in case you're curious. Even more egregious because "roan-red hair" is one of Cordelia's stock descriptions).

From a list of frequently banned books and the reasons they've been banned:
"Lewis, C.S. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. - Anti-Christian, promotes witchcraft."

LOL WHUT. Somebody didn't read the book...

Also, all the banned-book lists are doing is making me really want to read them. I mean, when you've got crap like Twelfth Night and Where The Wild Things Are, for fuck's sake, I want to read the rest of the books and find out just why exactly people object.

Holy whore house? And here I thought Dan Brown had the weirdest take on Mary Magdalene.

Anyone brave enough to download the prologue and give it a read? For science, my friends, for science!

WHAT. WHAT.

Okay. Two stories from work.

Story number one! One of our mares--I can think of no other verb--frisked me when I went in to fill up her water buckets. She insisted on sniffing me from head to toe, paying particular attention to my arm and the crook of my elbow. I have no idea what smelled so interesting to her. She didn't nibble, even a little bit, just sniffed. She located no carrots and gave up in disgust.

Story number two! Willie, one of our geldings, has been in his stall for three days. He's been going a little stir-crazy. I didn't know how stir-crazy until today. I was filling up his water bucket, and he began nibbling on the hose. No big deal, a lot of horses do that when they're bored.

AND THEN WILLIE GRABS THE HOSE OUT OF MY HAND AND YANKS IT UPWARDS, spraying me, himself, the stall, and most of the surrounding area with water. He proceeded to flap it around for a bit before he finally dropped it outside his stall and let me scramble out to turn it off. This horse! I got soaked. My coworker laughed at me. Bah.

WHAT.

If this goes into law, just when I finally got on birth control, I am going to climb over the counter and strangle the first pharmacist to deny me my legally-proscribed medication for cripplingly intense pain, you motherfuckers. Then I am going to HHS and explaining to everyone there in pointed detail just what happens to my body when I am not on birth control, complete with practical demonstrations. With a corkscrew and a hammer. And probably a lot of needles.

Any suggestions, ladies?
(Seriously, write to your Congressional representatives and get this wiped off the books for all eternity. Fuckers.)

Dear author of the book I'm reading:

Stop implying that John Adams did not love his wife. Fifty-nine years of love letters say you fail. Kthxbai.

Seriously, how is this hard? John and Abigail Adams are one of the great American love stories, to hear everyone but you tell it. Yes, they fought, yes, they disagreed on shit, but you know what? So does every single loving couple ever. People argue. It happens. It doesn't mean they loved each other any less.

Oh, and "remember the ladies" and his dismissal of it that you're going on about? Please note that if you actually read the letter in question and don't just take the quotes out of context, it becomes obvious that they were teasing each other. Abigail certainly meant "remember the ladies," no lie, but his response? Was a joke. Remember that you yourself said she was his greatest political advisor and the one he depended on the most. Clearly one should not take that response all that seriously.

Jeebus, woman. Get your stories straight.

Annoyed,
A John Adams Fangirl

(PS: Jefferson can suck it.)

Wow, fashion website, recommending strapless dresses for busty gals isn't going to make people laugh at you at all. Admit it, dudes, you just want to see some boobage.

I hate this time of month. Either I'm in so much pain that I can't function (and can't eat due to nausea because it hurts so much; that's a charming new development), or I'm dizzy and flaky from the medication that keeps the pain away, and can't function. I swear to God, if they make me jump through one more hoop to get on birth control, I am going to break down in tears.

LOOK WHAT PRIS MADE ME! *dance* It's an icon off one of my fics, so's you know. The fic is called Practicality, it's a drabble, whatever, IT'S AN ICON OMG OMG OMG LOOK. *flail*

This is a rant. You've been warned.

So recently I've been seeing increasing amounts of "why the hell don't people review my stuff" on F!S, among my circle of friends, on fanficrants, etc. People seem to be getting fewer reviews and they seem to be pissed. This is natural, and it's been said, so I'm going to concentrate on something that hasn't as far as I know been addressed.
Gift fics.
Would it fucking kill you to tell me you read what I wrote specifically for you?
I mean, seriously. I write giftfics all the time, and most of the time people are good about at least telling me that they enjoyed it, or were happy that I wrote it, or enjoyed that one joke about the roosters, the potatoes, the Fifth Doctor and Harry Dresden. I love this kind of feedback, but I can do without it. All I really want is an acknowledgment that you read it.
Yes, this is becoming a minor problem. Some of the giftfics I wrote recently? I got all sorts of feedback from my friends, and even from my beta, who really doesn't have to review these things since she sees them first. But the people I wrote them for? Nothing. Zip. Nada. It makes me feel really inclined to not write giftfics again, I tell you.
Are they trying to tell me the fics suck? That they don't like them? That's okay. At least let me know that you read the damned thing. It's like sending a package to someone and never hearing back if they recieved it.
I know I'm late with these fics. But I don't have to do them, that's the kicker. I write these things for you because I like you. Don't reject them like this. It makes me feel like you don't like me, and I really, really hate feeling like that.
Jesus. Common courtesy.

You do not fucking ditch your roommate ten minutes before room draw. You do not.
Mind you, this is not my roommate who did the ditching. S is lovely and a roommate of great justice, and she and I are safely ensconsed in a first floor room for next year. But a friend was ditched, quite literally ten minutes before room draw, and I don't think I'll be talking to her erstwhile roommate for a while.
Pity. We used to be friends. So much for that.

Edit: And now Arthur C. Clarke is dead. WTF, world. Shape up.

LOLWHUT.
http://www.livejournal.com/support/faqbrowse.bml?faqid=38&view=full
I am so glad I bailed from LJ when I did.