commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Olivia)
Bought one of the ugliest bras ever yesterday. It sort of fits, though, which is a plus (it's a band size up and a cup size down from what I really need, but as a result it more or less works), and it was $8.

Seriously, it's lime green with yellow. . . idk, netting over the cups. And the same netting ruffles--those are really going to bug me, but even though they feel weird, they don't bug me, (even though one side curls under funnily) and I'm afraid if I cut them off, they'll get worse.

I've got to find a picture. I really wish I had a picture of my mom's face when I showed it to her. That was priceless.

Sidenote (on topic actually, for once)--I'm on the Fruit of the Loom website looking for a picture of this thing (seriously, as a swimsuit, it might not be as bad, but for bras I prefer, you know, white/tan/black), and for some of these (presumably the front and back clasp ones), YOU CAN BUY JUST ONE CUP. That's probably actually really handy for a lot of people. The chick who plays Alice Cullen in the Twilight movies for one--I googled her naked pictures to make a point and boy, did I think I had any room at all to talk about lopsided breasts (I really don't anymore, but they were worse when I was younger). She's probably got a size difference there. It'd be especially good if you could get one in non-pushup and one that was padded and such so the bra would not only fit but even you out a bit.

Days ago <--

So. I've been wanting to go to a Xena convention since I knew what one was. Forever, when I was young (we're talking not-yet-anythingteen), I was "planning" to go to one as soon as I turned 18. Yeah, that happened. And now it's the 15th anniversary, and I'd die to be able to go for the California one because I bet everybody actor-wise will be there. (Though that's what's always been cool about the Xena folk and their conventions. The St. Louis occasional convention tries to shaft you by charging a bazillion dollars and bringing in nobody big, while the Xena cons' general admissions aren't too much higher and generally Lucy and Renee and Hudson Leick, arguably the three top billers, are almost always there.)

Just looked up prices. They've only got the top one there, the all-weekend Gold membership, but still: $474. Add in hotel and airfare (it's a school weekend, so there's no way I could spend 24 full hours each the day before and after driving) and we're talking what, $750 minimum? Seriously, if you don't live in or near Cali, how do you afford it at all? Even at the (if I remember correctly) $50ish general admission, the whole package needed to get there and stay for the weekend is just too much.

But also, here's the thing. That new Starz network show Spartacus that I've been calling Xena 2.0 because it has Rob Tapert, Sam Rami (big showrunner types), and Lucy Lawless? If that's filming, we'll lose the producers and Lucy in one fell swoop. Though I bet they'd take a weekend off and fly themselves back for the 15th, nobody but a few minors are confirmed for the con yet, so who knows?

More days ago <--

And now, I show off my icon. Because Olivia Wilde is still the most unfairly beautiful thing on two legs. And even though I haven't seen the G. I. Joe movie (interested because of 9th Doctor, but not interested enough to be bothered to see it before it comes out on DVD), the video spoof Olivia and Alan Tudyk and Hodgins from Bones and many others were in (though the character names made no sense because of the lack of seeing) was a riot.
commotiocordis: (Jack/Ianto)
Dear Torchwood.

Spoilers in the nature of my reaction to part 4 of Children of Earth. Lots of generalized inarticulate reaction (note how nice and careful I'm being to not indicate in what direction that reaction may go), but also includes a quite nice directorial rewrite of the last scene, if I may say so myself. )

Sincerely,
Alexandria


Now I am for serious going to bed. As my alarm goes off in two hours. Fuck me. Maybe I'll make it three hours and just shower really fast, though that's all but impossible since I reallyquick henna'd just the top of my head since it'd been forever--actually more than 6 months, I think--since last time and though it blended and tapered really well from the lighter several inches of roots to the dark red length and looked pretty darn natural, I figured why not because I had tons of energy after getting back from the gym at, you know, 12:40. Dyed hair, watched a West Wing with Kaci, and then watched Torchwood. And then came these last fourteen hundred words of reaction and my not being in the mood to sleep even though I'm so tired my fingers are failing at wordtyping.

Blech. Plus, this orchestra thing means get there at 10 (leave at 9), be there until 5. Seriously? Seriously? I'm going to have to steal a laptop (as mine still has the screen issues) from one of the familia, because there's no way on earth that I can be there that long and still be sane at the end of it, much less awake if I've got nothing to do.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Re: tonight's Bones.

I am now shipping Angela/Brennan/Booth so hard.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Mistletoe
Alexandria (CrashCart9[at]Yahoo[dot]com)
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Temperance Brennan/Angela Montenegro
Rating: G
Notes: Takes place during the Christmas episode, when they’re trying to sleep on the floor. 100 words. Written shortly after the episode aired but I didn’t get around to typing it until February.


Temperance turned her head towards Angela with a frown on her face. “You might even kiss me under the mistletoe? I’m not only the last person you were going to kiss, but you’re not even certain?”

Angela rolled over in her sleeping bag and faced Tempe with a rather patronizing look. “I wasn’t certain that I was going to kiss you under the mistletoe. I was certain that I was going to kiss you. And anyway, aren’t you the last person I kiss every night?”

Temperance smiled slightly and rolled her eyes, leaning in as Angela’s lips met her own.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)

Hoping I can make this the first Bones fic, or at least the first Bones femslash.  I mean, come on.  "Glug-glug Whoo-hoo!" nights?  What do they think we're going to take that as?

Exact Cause of Death
Author: Alexandria (CrashCart9[at]Yahoo[dot]com)
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Temperance Brennan/Angela Montenegro
Rating: PG-13
Date: 9/14/05
Disclaimer: Yeah, did you see Angela’s whole flashing scene in the pilot? All me. They asked what they could do to make the show better, I answered. No, really, I don’t own them.
Notes: Written in math the day after the pilot episode ran. Inspiration struck in the middle of the lecture, who was I to argue.

Temperance was tired of Angela’s little “glug-glug whoo-hoo!” nights. She loved them; they were amazingly fun. But the nights always ended. And she didn’t want that.

It went just about the same every night they went out. They’d go to a bar, get wasted, then come back to one of their apartments and have mind-blowing sex. Then they’d wake up the next morning and talk about random things while they nursed their respective hangovers.

They never discussed what they were doing. Temperance was afraid to bring it up for fear that she’d lose Angela completely. Because she wanted these reoccurring one-night stands to become something more, but she was afraid that if she pushed too hard, it would end. And then she wouldn’t even have those few tiny moments.

But in this case, she had decided, wanting was probably better than having. It tore her heart up when Angela would arch her back and scream “Oh, God, I love you!” and Temperance knew (thought, guessed, assumed) that she didn’t mean it. And how when she would say it back, that she meant it from the bottom of her heart, but Angela would never know. She was being killed every time Angela called her sweetie or any number of assorted affectionate nicknames, and every time she hugged Temperance, and every time she’d grab her hand, or brush up against her in the lab. She hated having everything she wanted dangle right in front of her face, only to be jerked away the next day, when they’d talk about cases, or movies, or guys, and never what Temperance most wanted to discuss. The fact that she was utterly and completely in love with her best friend.

She didn’t know what she would say if the time came. Being ‘not a people-person’, she’d probably go about it in her typical forthright way. Say that she was in love with her. The direct diagnosis. The exact cause of death.

Temperance didn’t like their little liquor-induced liaisons. She wanted to be able to express her love when they were both sober enough to actually understand what was going on.

She knew she needed their nights to end. For her health. For her sanity, if there was any left. But she knew she couldn’t give them up. She would smile, and joke, and pretend that when they were panting and moaning and touching each other in places mere friends never should, that she didn’t feel anything more than the physical sensations coursing through her body. Pretend that she didn’t want to take Angela home every night, and kiss her and hold her and never let go. She was tired of pretending, but she wouldn’t come clean. And it would be the death of her.

September 2022

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