It's "Oliver," of course. The novel I have been diligently not working on since 2007 will now be written, sleep be damned!
So then. In the process of following a very concrete outline, my dear William Thornton has surprised me greatly. He's become decidedly three-dimensional as this week has gone by.
So then. I've been working on the title, as "Oliver" just isn't doing it for me any more. You Belong in the World of Forms" is the new working title. A bit long for my tastes, but better suited.
On an unrelated note, I now see Byronic themes and moral conflicts rooted in evolutionary theory in every Buffy episode. Ah, college. New lenses for new analysis of nonsensical occupations!
And that's it! Back to work I go. Or sleep, rather.
- Music:Scisssor Sisters--I can't Decide
Giles: I was ten years old when my father told me I was destined to be a Watcher. He was one, and his, uh, mother before him. And I was to be next.
Buffy: Were you thrilled beyond all measure?
Giles: No, I had very definite plans about my future. I was going to be a fighter pilot. Or, possibly a grocer.
Alright, I adore Rupert Giles at the moment. How did I never watch this show when it was actually running? I was so deprived as a child.
- Music:Bohemian Rhapsody--Queen
I like all my classes well enough. Love my ethics and morality class. Dislike my Western Civilization class, but am muddling through.
My art history class is nice. Though I got a weird look from the professor when I pointed out a few similarities between Jan Van Eyck's Annunciation and a bit of Roman Mythology. I suppose that's a no-no.
Anyway, my semester project is....the Unicorn Tapestries! a lofty undertaking, but I now have a reason to go the Cloisters for the first time. In fact, I don't think I've ever been to a real art museum before. There's been a local museum I've gone to a few times. But the display changes every month, and its always something like children's books' illustrations, or Tiffany lamps.
Ugh. Back to my essay. This has got to be the most depressing literary task I've ever had the misfortune of undertaking. Shortening a piece, when every word is crucial.
- Music:Chess--Endgame
1. One Day More. Les Miserables
2. Opening Ceremony. Chess the musical
3. Bohemian Rhapsody. Queen
4. Wish you were here. Pink Floyd
5. Cleopatra. Adam and the Ants
6. You can call me Al. Paul Simon
7. The night Chicago Died. Paper Lace
8. One Night in Bangkok. Chess the musical
9. Merano. Chess the musical
10.Tangled up in Blue. Bob Dylan
11. Picture Book. The Kinks
12. Come Dancing. The Kinks
13. I can't decide. The Scissor Sisters
14.Sympathy for the devil. The Rolling Stones
15. Lily Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts. Bob Dylan
16. Strip. Adam and the Ants (seriously, it's really catchy.)
17. Video Killed the Radio Star. (i don't know who sang this originally, but it was in the musical "Back To the 80s")
18. Cocaine. The Grateful Dead (It's sort of required for car trips, don't you think?)
19. Kiss me Deadly. Reel BIg Fish
20. One Two Three. The fix (musical; song performed by John Barrowman. Check it out on youtube!)
21. Maxwell's Silver Hammer. The Beatles
22. The Day the Music Died. Don McLean
23. Scenes from an Italian Restaurant. Billy Joel
24. 96 Tears. ? and the Mysterians
25.Lovers in the Backseat. Scissor Sisters
So there you go. Top 25 Car Trip songs. This exercise taught me something that I've been suspecting for a while. I'm a total Theatre queen. Audience Queen? Eh, the sentiment still applies. This list took forever to create, in part because I kept thinking of Chess songs. Soviet Machine. Pity the Child. Commie Newspapers. Then I thought of the song "Homo Christmas"by pansy division. After cracking up at the thought of that particular song wafting out of open car windows, I decided it didn't quite fit.
I'm going to have to bust out my folk stuff again. the concept of listening to a "band" is rapidly becoming foreign.
^_^
- Mood:
oo la la! - Music:Pity the child-Chess the musical
Well, I think Atlas is going to chuck this ridiculous planet into the cosmos and cut his losses. i certainly wouldn't blame him. Would you?
For the love of this godforsaken land, I have to get out of this place. And if I end up in the hospital again, please let me still have insurance, not this bullshit Obamacare.
Don't you love being able to blather on endlessly about the soviet agenda and believe every word? And not wonder if you've turned into a conspiracy theorist?
- Music:Chess--Opening ceremony
Tomorrow I will be holding a very small funeral for the adorable, the private, the loyal-to-a-fault, the charming, the pleasing, the self-doubting self-depreciating Ianto Jones. Ianto--you swiftly became my favorite character in Torchwood. You didn'd even get an "I love you" in the end. (Don't think no one noticed, Russell. If ever I see you on the street, you're getting a well deserved slap across the face). I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Ianto, Ianto. In five days the Whovians and the Woodies have gained more insight into a quietly enigmatic character. Everyone's always so hung up on Captain Jack Harkness, they never stop to wonder where Ianto came from and what he left behind--and I'm not talking about Lisa. I'm talking about a sister he loved, his troubled relationship with his father that he tried to conceal in vain. I'm talking about the thrill he gets when Jack embraces him; the restraint, the "decorum and tranquility" he exercises around not only his peers, but himself. Never disgraced.Even in the poor decisions, the rampant tears, the determination to cling to what was lost so very long ago--Ianto Jones was never disgraced. He held fast to his principles, his convictions. He held fast to his great loves--Lisa, even when she was all but dead; his dear Captain, when all seemed lost. He held fast to his obligations--To Torchwood, to his family, to the Captain, Gwen, the world--despite overwhelming pressures to let go. Even if it meant shooting Owen Harper to preserve the balance of time and space. Even if it meant never seeing his sister or his niece and nephew to avoid reminding them of past pains. Even if it meant becoming a fugitive, accepting a relationship that was not entirely equal, dying not knowing if you died for love or for mere companionship. Even if it meant putting yourself in danger, time and time again. Even if it meant offering up your life.
Ianto Jones was never disgraced.
So take this man, I implore you, as a model not of how to live, how to think, how to be, but as a model of what to admire. A model of what to tip your hat to on the street. Welcome his kind with bowed head and warm heart. Give them the nod. Somewhere out there, there is a Ianto Jones looking for a "Well done" and a handshake. GIve it readily. There is not anywhere a man or woman that has not dedicated their very being to something only to be grossly underappreciated and unrecognized for their true merit. Think of them. Think of Ianto.
If nothing else, think of how good he looked in a suit.
(note: This small funeral basically consists of wearing all black and watching torchwood series 1&2 with a box of kleenex. I will be in a pitiful mood. My sister will no doubt join me, though she will most likely forget to wear black and will forget to finish Children of Earth. Yeah, so it's a pity party of one, pretty much. I'll manage.)
To quote Gwen Cooper:
"There's gotta be something that you can do, 'cause otherwise what's the fucking point of you? You bring him back, do you you understand me, Jack fucking Harkness? Do you?"
(Granted, this was series 1, End of Days, upon Rhys' momentary death, but the sentiment still applies.)
Okay, Okay, I'm done.
- Mood:
Ianto's dead - Music:Les Miserables--One day More
Sharkman carried the table up the final staircase a few days after Lesley and I nearly broke our backs getting it out of the basement. The day prior to getting the table in my room, puddle of condensation left by Sharky's drink nearly obliterated 5 handwritten pages of Oliver, the novel that has eluded me for nearly three years. It seems that the floodgates have opened, allowing me to gain better insight into the first part of the book--William Thornton. The father of Oliver, the husband of Alice, the friend of Ernest, and the ghost overshadowing every waking moment of this entire production. This was the fallen log stopping me in my tracks, and now its gone. Anyway, Sharky never apologizes, not by saying it, anyway. He carried the table, and that is apology enough.
My tics have been fairly bad the past few days. moter-wise I'm within typical range but still fairly wild; not quite the usual actions of my rebel mind, but within the bounds of what I've experienced before. Oddly, I felt a painful crunching sensation in my neck yesterday followed by a peculiar tingling numbness on the left side of my face along my jaw. It has not quite left me, but it is not quite so concerning at the moment.
Had to take flexeril yesterday, and the two nights ago at one in the morning. It's frustrating. Vocal tics are becoming more pronounced and diversified. THe word "tarp" has been added to my daily mix od clucking and "tisk-ing." Both medications I have been recently prescribed have absolutely destroyed my stomach, and I am not eager to try another.
That's the end of my early morning ramblings, begun at 5 AM and ending at 8.
Good morning, and goodbye.
- Music:Paper Lace--The night chicago Died
Okay. I'm kinda wiped put at the moment.
Today was the first day of summer reading. Generally we have about 200 people a day for the first two or three days of registration, but today there was about 50. Still, that's fifty children, many of whom were in our "Wee Reader" birth-2 year-old group, fusing and crying and such. Tiresome, and tic-inducing.
Met the new part-timer today. She seems nice, even though she thought I was a new worker. Sorry lady, that's you. I've been here for over 2 years. 2 and a half, actually.
Tech invented work for us, creating a "children's DVD" label for the...DVDs. We've been using a "Children's Video" label for VHS and DVD stuff for as long as anyone can remember, but suddenly we must differentiate between the two so none of the patrons get mixed up. Seems to me that one of two things happened--our patrons got stupider or our expectations of them dropped dramatically. As much as patrons can get frustrating, I'm going to have to gues the latter. To keep my insane hope that patrons can tell the difference between a thick VHS tape and a slim DVD without a label telling them so alive.
I think I'm going to move my painting table up to my bedroom within the next 2 days. I need a desk for my computer desperately (currently, I'm typing this with the computer placed ontop of the Gateway box it came in. Elevation, yes. flat surface, yes. comfortable for long time use? not so much. Anyway, painting in the basement is beginning to concern me. My room has the benefit of ventilation--a luxury I sorely require. And I keep all my sketchbooks and such up here...it's a matter of practicality.
Bought a portable hard drive the other day. Freed up quite a bit of space on the operating system. I'm a bit of an itunes junkie, and all my television series were taking up an obscene amount of space...now I have room for Doctor Who series 3. w00t!
Ah, saw the new infant. Adorable girl. Her hair is lightening up quite a bit, perhaps she will be blonde like her mother. She was signed up for the Wee Reader program. Not 2 weeks old, and already pledged the the pursuit of knowledge...it's so bloody adorable.
Oh! Saw some of the Chess Concert today! SImply amazing. Though I tihnk I bugged Les with my obsessive off-tune singing
Whether you are Pro or anti, we're here to sell you chess.....
- Mood:
creative - Music:Chess-The Soviet Machine
Sis: Why are you recording Eli Stone?
me: I'm not recording eli stone.
sis: The DVR says we're recording Eli Stone.
me: I own all the Eli Stone episodes. They cancelled the show.
Sis: So I can stop recording?
Me: Well, what episode is it?
Sis: let me check. (scurries off, and returns with perplexed expression).
Me: Well?
Sis: I don't know what episode it is.
me: okay... (checks, equally confused. realizes there is a new Eli Stone episode. Oh...my God. LESLEY!
Apparently, there is a God. And that God is ABC.
A show I followed religiously (no pun intended) was cancelled, but it rose again. A hysterical giggle is fighting to escape.W00t!
And yeah, the extent of my interest in religious matters ends with Jesus Christ Superstar (a Weber masterpiece) and Children of Eden (a Schwartz masterpiece), but I have always been absurdly fascinated with the role spirituality plays in people's lives, for better or worse (In moden America, generally worse). Eli Stone is amazing, whatever your views on God/organized religion/afterlife/etc. oo, and there's really kickass music covers throughout the episodes.And now it's back! on ABC!
- Mood:
w00t! - Music:Eli Stone cover--"Feeling Good"
School is over, technically. I should be working on an essay due in August, but I'm going to enjoy my pseduo-freedom for a little bit.
I'm going to have to come up with a new work schedule, since we're only open for one more Saturday (the library closes on weekends during the Summer). The head Children's librarian had her baby last week, a cute baby girl. She'll come back to work in August, but in the meantime there's a new parttime librarian covering her hours. I haven't met the new part-timer yet; we don't currently work on the same days.
We're preparing for Summer Reading in earnest, now. For those who don't know, a theme is chosen every year (perhaps by some sort of national Library board, I don't know) and is applied to Library programs and contests for the little patrons, as I sometimes call them. This year's theme is "Be Creative at your Library" for the tweens & teens, and "Express Yourself at your Library" for the tots & grade-schoolers.
Oooo it's going to be so much fun decorating for this one. 2 summers ago the theme was "Get a Clue at your library," detecive and mystery themed. We had black footprints on the walls, going down the stairs--it looked really cool, I wish I had pictures of it.
vale!
- Music:Sarah Brightman--i lost my heart to a starship trooper
So now, Oliver going well. Extensive character development in order as well as some one-shot excerpts. SOmetimes it sucks, sometimes I am utterly thrilled. My Ernest Green material is well plotted, my Oliver Thornton stuff is pretty much non-existent, as is the Evan Miller material. Edgar has changed to Victor Stroud, Vincent has become Nathaniel, William has grown a spine. Alice has become human, And Ernest has somehow become my favorite character. Oliver Thornton has become a monster of sorts, wielding empathy as a weapon. Ah, empathy isn't quite the right word. His knowledge of human nature, capacity for observation, and ability to immerse himself in the stories of others allows him to manipulate everyone around him.
I went to the doctor today, the motor specialist one. I have, at last, been diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome. For a while my illness was classified as a "Chronic motor tic disorder," since I did not yet have vocal tics. For better or for worse, I began having vocal symptoms about a monh ago. New medications in my future, a brand new one to be started tomorrow. Nothing to be done for my spotty memory or difficulty concentrating. I was told that Tourette's patients are generally very intelligent, so perhaps my mental difficulties still leave me with above average mental faculties. I think this is doctor code for "there's nothing to be done about it," but that' s just me, being critical. Wahey! the diagnosis I've been waiting for! Granted, no one can yet tell me how or why I showed no symptoms until a year ago, but I suppose I should give that a bit of time. If any of my early studies in human biology and psychology have taught me anything, it's that the human brain is a mysterious thing. It's mechanical fuctionings (neurons and such) are understood, but disfunction is often inexplicable.
I get happy over the stupidest things.
- Mood:
happy - Music:Les Miserables--One Day More
Orpheus/Eurydice painting in the works.
I think I might have lost my notebook. I had it at the front door when leaving for school, thought I had it in the car, and then realized I did not have it once I got to school. There is nowhere, absolutely nowhere it could be. I'm panicking.
DIscovered Torchwood about a two weeks ago, and have been trapped in the world of internet television ever since. Where had Doctor Who been all my life? Seriously. And John Barrowman? The God of Musical Theatre.
This song is the anthem of humanity. Don't spend your life apologizing for your quirks, your flaws, or your very sense of self. Live yor life as you see fit; don't let the judgement or disapproval of others reflect in your actions.
Still working on the Fountainhead essay. Going to barnes & noble tomorrow in order to get a different Ayn Rand book. Pointless, perhaps, but it has the capacity for helpfulness.
Oliver going...well. Development is going nicely, actual writing? not so much. Caesar Falls at a standstill.
Saw "Beauty and the Beast," the theatrical production. It's a cute play, Lesley dahls and I were exchanging witty Les Mis and Cats jokes at intermission. There were some (perhaps) unintentional crossovers in the acting....I read something online today. I'm not sure who said it but here it is:
"The question is no longer who is John Galt. It is where is John Galt."
(on a side note, Christmas Lullaby gives me chills)
- Music:Songs for a new World--Christmas Lullaby
So now I'm in the death throws of the semester, scrambling to get my classes in order while simultaneously trying to finish the Fountainhead essay and write a book. i really need to learn to time these things better.
The end of marking periods is depressing, if only because it reconfirms my new mental deficiencies. I am no longer on any medication and have refused further injections, but I fear my concentration and my ability to retain new information has been compromised.
Reading Flowers for Algernon. Perhaps this is why I'm dwelling on such things.Or perhaps its the crushing sense of failure whenever I open Wheelock.
Valete.
- Mood: crushed
- Mood:
drained - Music:self--busy sending me
Punch actually reminds me of someone I know. I don't know if he'd be enraged or excited to hear me say that.
And that is not all. But it will have to do.
- Mood: depressed
On an unrelated note, my eye is twitching senselessly. It's an odd feeling.
The Fountainhead essay is still in the works. I have to finish it within the next 4 days. That's my personal time-limit.
- Mood:
content - Music:Bob Dylan--Thunder on the Mountain
I have wasted a great deal of my time. I will finish my novel during college and count it as my senior thesis.
Chopping my hair off on Thursday. It grows far too long for my liking.
Essay finished, made my presentation today. It went very well, I think.
GSA was alright. My hands ached considerably, but I survived. Spoke to Peter about his plans for the future. If anyone has advice for a charming young man trying to go to art school for Fashion Design, please let me know. I don't have the knowledge necessary to help him.
Valete!
- Mood:
tired - Music:Bob Dylan--Ballad of a thin man
Went to the lovely college today for an honor's college shindig, Saw the two professors I met and loved, and ended up at a table with a professor that looked remarkably like Severus Snape. Seriously. The gentleman was a bit stooped over (back problems), had that thin, longish hair characeristic of the darling potions master, and had been in the army. He was described by a student to have agruff exterior and a soft heart. SEV!
Charming company, lovely (though sparse) bookstore, and minimal ticcing. A good day, as far as I'm concerned.
- Music:Thoroughly Modern Millie: Speed Test
I heard later that there was bloodshed back stage, as the backdrop feel, hit someone in the head, and somehow caused someone to gash their leg open. An actor rearked that it was bloodier then their Les Miserables production.
I should be working on my American Government paper. However, it is 2:28 AM and, t be quite frank, I'd rather not. At least not for the moment. I must go to the grand old college of my choosing tomorrow, and mommy dearest will be waking me "at the crack of dawn." That generally either means way too early of ten minutes before we must leave.
Vale!
- Music:Chess the musical--commie newspaper
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- tertius, the deviant
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