So. Raske Menn! I need people who understand Norwegian so that I can forward them six or seven videos that I only partially understand. :D And I've just realised that I actually don't know if I know ANYONE else who speaks Norwegian. Hm. Det er en problem.

What doesn't need translation: their FACES. So I made icons. Up there's Anders, making my favourite face ever. Seriously, I make that face at least fifteen times a day at work when something has happened that I know I'm not, strictly speaking, SUPPOSED to laugh at.


Anders. Where his brain should be, there's... resonance!

( more under here )

If anyone's curious, I'm happy to dig up some Youtube links to the good stuff, but most of it doesn't have subtitles, so it is only for the brave.

Pip

Title: Repeat Offender
Author: Seperis
Codes: Jim Kirk, Spock, Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: movie
Summary: After a bar, in Iowa.
Warnings: click here, mild spoilers.
Author Notes: Thanks to shinetheway for reading and beta, and transtempts for reading earlier versions of this and not hating it.

( fic: repeat offender )

( warnings )

The Vampire Diaries fic rec!

Lure by transtempts, in which Bonnie is a witch and Damon is a vampire who might be helpful but God knows really if he means it. It's a wonderful exploration of a carefully navigated relationship between them; Bonnie is awesome and incredibly insightful, Damon is ambiguous and strangely useful, and it could go anywhere at all. Me, I hope it goes somewhere. Canon-compliant up to most recent TVD episode, and highly recommended for the wonderful capturing of Bonnie and Damon as people who aren't friends but might be one day.

Also, pitch-perfect Elena and Bonnie friendship, which is possibly my favorite relationship on the show. Sure there are vampires, but I seriously, seriously love watching them together.

Also, because transtempts was wondering last night and now I am too--anyone have any good recs for M*A*S*H fic that don't make you want to cut your wrists from subject matter or crimes against language?

It is quarter past one in the morning; I do not have work tomorrow. I have tucked myself into the corner of my bottom bunk and am surrounded with cushions and blankets and hanging scarves. It is a Cave of Comfort. (Also I am obviously not claustrophobic.) And I am writing, and drinking an organic honey beer, and watching clips of batshit insane adorable Norwegian comedians with no subtitles in an effort to jumpstart my comprehension of the language. I can't decide if it's working or not. There are three factors I have to balance:
1. I REALLY want to know what they're saying, because it's funny and I am getting some of it.
2. Oh my God, Anders Hoff is beautiful. I am pretty sure I would watch him no matter what he was saying. Øyvind's quite cute as well, and Calle weirds me out sometimes but can be totally adorable. Distracting, is what I'm saying.
3. They are inspirational, yet confusing if you're not paying attention: all three of them speak multiple regional dialects/accents of Norwegian, as well as Swedish, Danish, and English. Calle also speaks excellent German (Anders is okay). And let me tell you, if you only barely understand Norwegian, it's not difficult to confuse Danish and Swedish with vocabulary you just don't know yet, or not notice that they've switched. It's also really weird to have Calle speaking German to Anders, who is speaking Norwegian, and Øyvind, who is speaking Swedish, all in the same conversation. The German throws me for a real loop. I lose Norwegian comprehension for a few seconds until my brain changes gears.

Anyway, Calle has hair like a baby chick and no concept of personal space and I kind of want to be him. And they all sing. Well. I think we can consider this a successful language acquisition tool.

Also, as distracting as Raske Menn quite definitely are, this is the third day in a row I've written more than 1500 words. \o/ I think the trick is the Cave Of Writing And Seclusion, and being warm and comfy because of my laptop blowing hot air on me.

Anyway, there should be more fic tomorrow, if you care about such things. I know I do. :D

Pip

I've never written a rec like this before. Sure, I've recced some stories that were good. I've even recced some stories that were excellent. But I've never recced one before that kept me reading for hours on end, that sent me shouting that it needed to be published. Hell, I've never dreamed about a story I read online before, not in twenty five years in fandom.

( Why You Should Read This )

Why yes, I do ship Jack and Sam! Why do you ask? It's that whole female eromenos thing....

Jack/Sam, post Sam in Atlantis

( Marrying Carter )

I cried less this week, does that count?

( pretty much what you expect right about now. )

I am learning Norwegian. Mostly so that I could decide if it would be something Charles would find interesting and useful to know. Conclusions: yes he would, and I LIKE this language. I may actually pick it up. It makes so much sense - more than Swedish, anyway, which I had also contemplated poking with the linguist stick before realising that it seems to have complicated and irregular pronunciation rules, and I already speak English so I really don't need any more of that right now. Norwegian doesn't feel like singing, unlike Finnish, but it does feel like talking (probably because I already recognise a lot of words), and the shape of it feels good in my mouth. My Anderson forebears are probably smiling on me. There are so many giant grim blond men in my ancestry, I'd be letting the side down if I couldn't manage an å. And so would anyone with the undeniably Scandinavian-sounding last name of Ofdensen. (Danish, says my internal gloss; totally fake Danish, unless I miss my guess, but still, the pattern is right... which is more than can be said for "Skwigelf", while we're on the subject...)

For the record, I do know that genetics have no bearing on what languages the human brain can be trained to pick up. The fact that I find the languages of my ancestors easier to pick up than others probably has far more to do with cognates and duplicated phonetic systems and grammar than anything... things I already half-speak without trying. After German and English, my brain doesn't have to learn anything but vocabulary to manage Norwegian. But it's still kind of a nice thought.

Also for the record, I do know this damn show is a cartoon and is not bound by the laws of reality, linguistic or otherwise. I mean, if I didn't know after hearing Skwisgaar's accent, there would've been no hope for me. But this is me; I will analyse for linguistic correctness and their errors will bug me and that's just kind of how it is. I'm at peace with it. :D

If class doesn't kill me, there might be more writing tonight! I forgot what it was like having an audience, except that I remembered liking it. Surprise: I still like it. :D

Pip

Stolen from sf_drama, but seriously, people, some of you read this and didn't tell us?

The New York Times would like us to know groundhog day could be nigh.

A pair of otherwise distinguished physicists have suggested that the hypothesized Higgs boson, which physicists hope to produce with the collider, might be so abhorrent to nature that its creation would ripple backward through time and stop the collider before it could make one, like a time traveler who goes back in time to kill his grandfather.

First, a speculated bird breaks the instrument of our eventual doom, now, we could finally live out all those fanfic and really know how Bill Murray felt.

So, anyone see any blue police boxes hanging about? You know, in case we inadvertently tear a hole in space and time. I'll be frank here; if you cannot keep a bird from breaking your equipment--a bird for the love of God--I am not certain you should be playing with the fabric of reality willy-nilly, mmmkay? Just a thought.

Things I Am Not Doing

I do not, per se, resent the UK, so much as Harrods, for having Maxwell, the 2009 Christmas Bear right there, and then charging shipping higher than the price of four bears.

Yes, fine, I am an obsessive Christmas bear person, and I am only ashamed of this when it's not the season of craziness. In scarier news, somehow, it is still more expensive to buy it from ebay. Yes, I did check (in several countries of ebays). I am that kind of a person. svmadelyn promised to find me an appropriate bear in Chicago, but I am just saying, Harrods, why do you hate me? Why?

(He has a friend, Rufus! And a Christmas Westie! A Christmas Westie. Oh my God, that is just cruel.)

See ETA

Things I Am Doing

( Christmas update )

Things I Have Done

Trekfic went to beta last night (and all three four betas do not hate me despite the fact I do not think they signed up for what they ended up with). With the exception of the epilogue, which doesn't do more than wrap up, it's complete. I seriously, seriously cannot believe it's done. I also sent my character notes, because it will make them laugh.

....seriously. Five months. But honestly, I didn't know if I'd ever finish. So you know, that's kind of awesome.

Pony

Still do not have one, but oddly, today, I do not mind.

ETA: Okay, the thing is, it did not occur to me to just ask someone on my flist. I mean, I even asked two people on AIM if they knew anyone going to London. For reasons beyond my understanding, I didn't think to, you know, check with the native residents. I--blame Trek. I am going with that. *blank* Thank you, syllic and clo.

*facepalm* God. This is Spock's fault, I can feel it.

ETA 2:

And someone sent me a pony. *falls over* My lesson for the day? People here are rather awesome.

ETA 3:

Two links from comments that I really feel need to be shared.

feanna shared this. Just--okay, seriously. Check out the dancing bear. And click on teh cellphone. FURTHER INFORMATION FROM FEANNA: The bear is dancing the Macarena here.

ladyholder shared Clash of the Titans trailer. This looks epic. *glee*

An important question for canonistas about SG-1 fandom -- does Jack wear boxers or briefs?

If Rodney were gay the SGA episode "Grace Under Pressure" might look a lot more like the SG-1 episode "Abyss", only with fewer clothes....

500 words of humor, Rodney McKay/Daniel Jackson, with many thanks to everyone who recced the slashtastic "Abyss" to me!

( In Over His Head )

Today I didn't cry! Whoo!

Seriously, thank you to everyone who sent links to music, or recipes, or commented with news of babies walking, or puppy-cam-of-unbelievable-adorableness, or fannish news. These were most excellent things.

Last week started improving by Friday, but I was feeling pretty darn wiped out at that point. I had an orgo test on Friday afternoon, and most of my studying time had been used up for, you know, sniveling instead, so I made the executive decision to a) stop trying to study on Thursday night and opt, instead, to go to bed early and get plenty of sleep so I could b) wake up early on Friday, skip all my morning classes, and use the time to study. I basically showed up to take the test, and then went home again. (He emailed grades last night: 92%. Booyah)

I only left the house twice more all weekend: once to drop my roommate off at the airport, and once to have lunch w/ the two students who dropped out of the program. Otherwise I spent a lazyass weekend idly poking at my physics homework. It was nice.

And now we're on to the lather, rinse, repeat portion of our program. Although, holy shit, I have less than a month left of the semester, don't I? Thanksgiving is in *two fucking weeks*, omg, and then there's probably 2 more weeks of school and finals. Holy crap.

Note to self: get yer ass in gear with the writing of the personal statement.

One day, this will be over, and I will not be nostalgic. Sometimes I totally am about writing; I have fond memories of thete1 in AIM encouraging me through Handful of Dust and happy thoughts about And All the World Beneath.

This is nothing like that.

( this is my fic whining; let me show you it )

In other news--I have none, did you not see the above? So I'm curious--anyone go into scary research mode while writing? Ways which kind of worry you when your research page starts to resemble a thesis?

I have discovered the secret of Charles Ofdensen's power. It is very simple: dress well.

Well, it's GOT to be, hasn't it, because a) you never see him out of tailored everything, and b) I wore a white buttondown, a grey pinstriped waistcoat, and a red Power Tie today and the universe totally fucking bent itself to my will. It was EPIC. Small representative sample:

- I overslept; Mario drove me ALL THE WAY to work. Without me having to beg. And I arrived early.
- On an oblique suggestion that someone should, I e-mailed Bandman - remember him? my beloved former cavemate? - to see if maybe possibly he might think about taking over a few hours of the Ex-Boy's job now that the Ex-Boy has formally quit, because I was sick unto death of doing it as well as my own job. He not only bit, but was in this afternoon with a CV; they're going to hire him back! Full-time! And after Thursday I will maybe never have to sell band music again!!!
- By doing nothing more than smiling and laying out facts, I made our very least favourite customer shut up, back down, and apologise for having a nice rant at my blameless colleague over something that not only had she not done, but I had done perfectly correctly and according to instructions (as the customer would have seen had she looked at her bill rather than just assuming we'd probably done it wrong). And Bosslady actually thanked me.
- I had fully intended to come home with a guitar today. I miss having one around and figured I could rent one for a month and get it out of my system, just a cheap little clone-Strat maybe. Something with the right number and pitch of strings to play some Dethklok on, that's all I asked for. My colleague listened patiently to my earnest sales pitch and then ignored me completely and handed me what, in his educated opinion, I actually wanted. I love him. So I am currently the proud renter of a gently-used cherry-red Gibson SG. The real thing, no cloning involved. It... is not the most expensive instrument I've ever played, but that's only because I once knew people with terrifyingly expensive violins. I'm sure it's the nicest guitar I've ever demeaned with my hopeless scratchings. I do not deserve it, and I definitely can't afford to buy it, unless my staff discount halves the already-reduced price (highly unlikely), but I will love it like hell for a month. And it matches my Power Tie, so our love was meant to be.

Anyway. Speaking of bending things to my will, I have six strings to practise my bending on. My god, strings I can actually BEND, will wonders never cease...

Pip

There's something horribly sad about my spam for the last year, which makes me wonder if there's something to be said for society being reflected in their spam. Since the economy did its thing last year, my spam is almost exclusively refinancing and stock spam, with a sprinkling of non-sex related self-improvement (white teeth! better bod! new career! Something else!). However, recently, finally, someone asked if I wanted a bigger penis FOUR INCHES IN FOUR DAYS, and that put me in a better mood. Our economy is recovering--we can afford bigger penises. The amount of IMPROVE YOUR SEX LIFE is also going up, which makes me happy, though admittedly I kind of hope for a hybridized PENIS WILL GROW FOUR INCHES WITH OUR REFINANCING DEAL, and it might even be true if you're in foreclosure. Libidos work better with lower stress.

Gmail and yahoo are exclusive victims of Pfizer drugs, however; for the life of me, I cannot figure that one out. I mean, they're not like, cool drugs or anything. LOWER YOUR CHOLESTEROL WITH DRUGS FROM MEXICO/CANADA/COUNTRY I DID NOT KNOW EXISTED, which really, that is not tempting me to click here. Something that said CREATES TIMESPACE RIP TO GET EVERYTHING DONE EVERY DAY, now that shit I am on. WILL MAKE YOUR BOSS LESS IRRITATING or WILL EXPLAIN HOW TO ACTIVATE VIERA LINK ON TV IN SMALL WORDS, those are some drugs I could get behind. WILL IMPROVE YOUR ABILITY TO DO MATH, get me some of that. FIXES YOUR GODDAMN PERL SCRIPT ERROR. Hell yes. WILL HELP FINISH YULETIDE STORY GUARANTEED WITHOUT SPELLING ERRORS--I have friends who would be all over that. WILL NEVER NEED SPELLCHECK AGAIN fuck yes, please, send me that one, from Mexico or Mars, I am there.

As society continues not to deal with these very pressing issues, no, I am not buying your drugs from Mexico, thanks.

I haven't recced in a while, but I want to toss this one out: And Play a Favorite Song by linzeestyle, AIRPS, Adam/Kris. Linzee's style is usually faintly melancholy (to me), which isn't at all a bad thing, but this one surprised me with a richly detailed, complicated emotional landscape that tipped over toward hope and the wonder of falling in love in all the ways it can be terrifying and amazing both, realistic and carefully optimistic. Even if AI isn't your thing, in the end, it's two people who in love, uncertain, terrified, and in the end, joyful.

I don't walk out of many stories feeling this good, but this has been a multiple re-read that never fails to make me happier than I was when I started.

Now must go and check on children, as Child and Niece are tying each other to the exercise bike in a series of ever more complicated poses that make me wonder if they have bones. Niece is a stick and Child is--well, not a stick at all, to put it bluntly. And yet.

Dec 12th, I get a new phone. I'm torn, as there's a few I like. The LG Chocolate Touch, the Samsung Rogue, the LG enV Touch, and the Motorola Droid* all look really good. I know I want a touch, but other than that it's pretty up in the air. I've mostly had LGs, and liked them, but I'm leaning towards the Rogue at the moment.

Any of you guys have these phones? Love them, hate them? Is there something else that's better? Halp, halp.


*Pro: The boyfriend wants a Droid, and if we had two I could tell people "These are not the 'droids you're looking for."