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Monday, December 8, 2014

Je Ne Sais Pas

I think it may be time to retire this blog. I just don't really see the point of it anymore and I never actually use it. I don't even know why I'm posting this. As if there's anyone out there hanging on my every word and desperately needs to know that I've officially decided to stop posting.
I guess I'll leave it here but I probably won't post anymore.
If I do, it'll be very rarely, so don't hold your breath.
Maybe one day I'll come back to it.


Saturday, September 27, 2014

I Have Nothing Much To Do...(so I wrote this)

I wrote a short little thing about Beatrice and Benedick from Nothing Much To Do (which, by the way, is my new obsession). This is a little bit of it. Click here to read the whole thing on AO3.

In which "dickface" is a term of endearment and "You're an ass" means "I love you".

Benedick Hobbes was sulking. He didn’t like it. He had hoped that if he tried to make a video, he might be able to work out his thoughts into something resembling coherency but he had been proven utterly wrong. As he lay sprawled on his bed, so many different things fought for attention in his head that he couldn’t even begin to name them all. He was angry with Claudio for humiliating Hero—a genuinely kind human being. But he may have been even angrier at Pedro for making him choose sides. A surge of nausea reminded him how helpless he felt. He had told Beatrice that everything would work out, that this would all be over and they’d be fine. But how could he promise such a thing?
And Beatrice. Interwoven with all these things was Beatrice. Thinking her name even gave him a small shiver down his spine. He hated himself for feeling glad that this whole situation had given them reason to talk without their usual venom. He shifted and felt movement in his bed—his phone was ringing. He glanced at the screen and answered.
“Hey,” she answered with none of her usual lively spirit. She hardly sounded like herself. “Could I come over?”
“Sure,” he said, but she kept talking.
“It’s just that if I spend another moment in this hospital I’m going to go insane. And I don’t want to go home because no one’s there and...I don’t know where else to go.” Her voice trailed away into silence and they were both quiet for a few moments.

“I’ll make some tea,” he said. He thought he heard a half-smile over the phone.

Monday, June 30, 2014

One Day More: A Recap of My 21st Birthday

June 28 was my 21st birthday and I had no idea what was going to happen. My parents told me that they had a plan but I did not know what it was, even though they claim that they woke me up weeks ago and asked me about it but I apparently do not remember this. I was both excited and nervous.
I started the day with pancakes, sausage and a piece of cake for breakfast-dessert (lol) with a mimosa. I've never had a mimosa before but I think the champagne we had wasn't very good because it was way too sour. Even with bad champagne, though, I could taste how good it could have been...if that makes any sense.
I got a shower and my mom told me to dress up a little. I actually ended up getting a new dress that I had been wanting for a while. (We also had to get my dad a dress shirt, which we need to do every time he needs a dress shirt, so I don't understand where they all go; I think he wears them once and then throws them out.)
My parents looked very nice, of course. My dad wore a reddish tie to match my mom's dress. They were very cute.
So I knew that we'd be going to eat first but my parents wouldn't even let me know where that was and we ended up going to the Melting Pot, this fancy fondue place (I know, how weird does "fancy fondue" sound?) that I like. We've only been there one other time, for my parents' anniversary a few years ago. It's really good but really quite expensive. But it's fun.
So that was the first thing. As for the second thing, I consistently asked my parents for hints even though I didn't really want to know. I wanted it to be a surprise. And yet it was still fun to ask.

How long of a drive do we have?
When do you think we'll be home?
What sort of thing is it?
Is it more of a standing up thing or a sitting down thing?

We ended up having a 45-minute drive and my mom joked that she would make me keep my eyes closed for the whole drive. To be honest, that's essentially what I did. I sat in the back and read my book (sidenote: I'm currently reading Prince of Shadows by Rachel Caine and I love it so far) and did not pay attention to the landscape outside.
We pulled up in front of a theatre and I looked up at the marquee.

They took me to see Les Misérables! I was so excited and couldn't stop smiling like a dork. The theatre was so gorgeous and I wish I had taken more pictures of some of the details inside. But unfortunately I did not.
(I did, however, get a chance to take a picture of this statue. I am not really sure if it's actually supposed to be Enjolras, or if they just put the flag there because Les Mis was showing but I still love it.)
We had pretty great seats, in a box just to the right of the stage. At some points, members of the additional cast stood at the corners of the stage and they were so close I could have almost reached out and touched them. It was magical.
The next day, my friend Justine asked how the play was but the truth is, I have no idea. I'm not enough of a play connoisseur to say when one is good or bad or better than another. I just know that I love Les Mis and I loved seeing it live. It could have been horrible and all the singers could have been off-key and I probably still would have loved it. That's just how I am.
Even though there was nothing exceedingly incredible, it really was a perfect night. I got to see a show that I love and that I've wanted to see for quite a while now, and I got to spend it with my family.
At the end of the show, while we waited for my dad to bring the car around and pick us up, we saw some of the actors leaving the stage door, or whatever it's called. I thought about asking them to take a picture with us but that sort of thing always makes me feel awkward. I mean it just feels so strange to go up to a person and ask them to take a picture with you. I even felt weird about this as a little kid when my parents would tell me to take a picture with a person in costume in a theme park. I just don't like it. And while I kind of wish, now, that I had asked, it's not a big deal. It was still a really good night (and one of my goals lately is to try not to let regrets devour me).
I just wanted to share it with the world, I suppose, or document it...or whatever the reason is for this blog.

My last picture of the night, of the front of the theatre, around 11:30 pm:

Joyeux anniversaire à moi,

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Another Daily Challenge...I Know, I Know

I wanted to look for some book/reading-related daily Instagram challenges. I didn't really find any but I did find some tumblr ones. So I thought that sounded like fun. I might post pictures on my Instagram as well. I don't we'll see.
Here's the prompts, I'll probably start tomorrow (well, later today, as it's 2:14 am).
By the way my Instagram is @jesuisfarouche if you wanna follow along there. Or you can click the Instagram button at the top of my page.


Thursday, February 6, 2014

Touch: or, The Absence of It

His hand was larger than hers, his warm palm slightly rough against hers, his long fingers settled in the spaces between her own. A pinprick of fire marked the place where each of his fingertips brushed the back of her hand as his thumb stroked the skin of her inner wrist. She had never known her flesh to be so sensitive and each point of contact made her crave another.
The fingers of his free hand traced the shape of her nose, the curve of her cheekbone and the point of her chin. They danced along the slope of her neck and the curve of her shoulder. She did not know that the shoulder could feel or appreciate a touch so delicate. The craving increased, a crushing desire, devouring all thought, all the world beyond the sensation of skin against skin. They breathed simultaneously bringing their chests together. Her eyes dropped shut and he brought his hand to her face once more, his thumb brushing her closed eyelid. The blue tracery over white bearing more beauty than a butterfly's wing.
Her mouth formed a soft pink pout and finally he bent to press his own lips against hers, that most pure and lovely of touches.
But when she woke, his presence previously so warm and sure and solid, faded to smoke and memory. Gone all the quicker for her desperate attempts to grasp it. Her chest heaved in a sob and she ached for absence of his touch.

Monday, January 27, 2014

Just a little video

I would have posted this on Instagram (that's why it's only like 15 seconds long) but Instagram doesn't let me post videos anymore so here you go.

(It's basically just a blanket that was clinging with static to our blue bathroom carpet which is what my dad is using to attract the tassels and make them dance lol)
Also, I hope you appreciate my hilariously ridiculous and overdramatic music. It's just generic music on Youtube.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Somewhere Between Daisies and Pews: An Explanation

It's been half a year since I posted my hastily made fanmix for Vikings' Gyda Lothbrok. When I posted it, it was as part of a daily fanmix challenge, I was well aware that it was not very good, and I just wasn't that bothered about it. But I decided to give it another listen and I wanted to explain myself and justify myself.

[In case you haven't listened to it, you can click here to do so, if you like.]

A quick side note: I ship Athelstan and Gyda a little bit (sorry if that bothers you) so some undertones of that may have slipped in. None of the songs are, in my opinion, blatantly romantic, though.

Overall, however, this fanmix is about Gyda. I imagine her to be a curious girl and not one who is quick to judge, traits which I think she gets from Ragnar. She isn't necessarily like the other vikings. This fanmix imagines her as wondering who she is, faltering between the religion of her people and her own nature. That's where the title comes in and the song with the same name. She is somewhere between daisies (representing both literal nature - as I imagine she likes to be outside and listen to the quiet of the world - and her own nature, the thoughts and tendencies that make her herself) and pews (the religion of her family and village, what she is expected to be and what it would be easier to be).
It's not perfect, and some of the songs don't fit this sort of theme all that well but that is meant to be the overarching theme.

Now, in a way, I may be kind of ascribing all of this more meaning than it really has. I made most of this fanmix late, late at night. But they all kind of felt right to me. And, not in quite so many words, that's what the fanmix was about for me. And at least now, you have a little bit of insight. If you were curious about that sort of thing.