Little Miss Jonesin'

3:07pm: Lame Post Pimps Blogging Project
Inspired by Gagglefrak's LOL-Heroes, I have my own LOLHeroes. Making lulz is fun!

7:19pm: The Fanfic 100

The First Twent-Five Prompts for my 3:10 to Yuma: Ben Wade in 10 Words or Less series:

1. Beginnings: “Not even I remember bein’ born, Charlie.”

2. Middles: That glorious feeling; after losing body awareness, before climax ends.

3. Ends: “I killed the man had this gun before me.”

4. Insides: "That is a fascinating specimen, doctor. Real human bones!"

5. Outsides: "I'm takin' you to a tailor, Charlie."

6. Hours: "How long you wait for that shot again, sharpshooter?"

7. Days: Fever in the desert night; it hardly got worse.

8. Weeks: He'd sailed to London, once. It had been worthwhile.

9. Months: He remebered the first trip west; a wagon from Braintree.

10: Years: His first and last whaling trip, out of San Francisco.

11. Red: The leitmotif of his life was warm viscosity.

12. Orange: He loves the citrus fruits of the Spanish teritorries.

13. Yellow: "I do appreaciate the thought, Charlie, but I dislike lemons."

14. Green: Missed you, he thought. He cut one, inhaled. Wonderful limes.

15. Blue: "It just don't look the same in the sky, Charlie."

16. Purple: An Irish girl used to talk about them, heather flowers.

17. Brown: He loved her skin, its duskiness- it glowed at sunset.

18. Black: He missed mud; thick, cool, full of life and hope.

19. White: He loved her skin, its frailty- it looked like procelain.

20. Colorless: "Once a blow rendered me blind- briefly."

21. Friends: There'd been a boy, loyal until the coughing killed him.

22. Enemies: "I don't have enemies. That implies mutual sentiment, Byron."

23. Lovers: He'd wanted whores when he could've had good girls. Mistake.

24. Family: He supposed there were some things he couldn't steal.

25. Teamates: War learned him obedience, but it didn't stick.

Written As: Myself
Fandom: 3:10 to Yuma
Feeling: Dull
Hearing: Irritating talk radio
Jonesin' for: A Root Beer Float!

11:05am: Hot Damn
I could talk the hind legs of a donkey.

I don't know why I've never before realised this, yet it is true. I could... I might be the only person on this earth actually capable of talking another human to death. Literally.

I need to learn how to shut up.  I really, really do.

10:38am: Three Then Train

A happy member of a new fandom.

Feeling: happy, in a lazy sort of way
Hearing: planes taking off from LaGuardia
Reading: The Amulet of Samarkand
Jonesin' For: Vanilla ice ceram. Lots of it.

written as: myself
for: threetentrain
fandom: n/a

9:39am: Long Time No Post

Non-Fandom Posting

So... Muse, fandom, etc; that's all dead to me now. Sort of. I'm a freaking fanfic junkie, can't do without it, and I like the avatar, so I'm coming back to this account as a general-use LJ fanfic base. Or basement. Like the kind I'll probably be living in for a while. Or... not. Since I don't live in a basement. Whatever.

I might keep doing random posts as Hestia Jones, I was having fun with that character voice. If that happens, well, hell, there'll be a note at the start like every other fic ought to have.

Feeling: Disconnected
Hearing: A helicopter, literally, it's flying over the neighborhood.
Reading: The Amulet of Samarkand
Jonesin' For: Fried haddock, home fries and a good bitter.

Written as: myself
For: myself

9:34am: Freddy

"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger." Do you agree or disagree? Why?

Friedrich Nietzsche's writings always make me feel a little fuzzy-brained. I mean, I know some people who love them. I mean, love them. Are just nuts for everything he wrote. Me, not so much. I tend to disagree with the man on principle- partly because I feel an obligation to do so, as an armchair feminist, and partly because I've always thought of him as a little scary, and very confusing.

But I do think he was right about that one thing. What doesn’t kill us, does make us stronger. Like the great heroes of Norse epics descending to the underworld and returning greater men for it- or, for a more realistic analogy, like the American President Theodore Roosevelt, dragging himself up from the depths of physical ills, and lifting his nation from the depths of a recession.

Or anyone recovering from an illness, really. Like the chicken pox. You only get it once, then you can't get it again. Unless you get shingles, I guess. Shingles are evil. But, in general, the body is stronger for having recovered from illness- but that's not really what he means, is it?

No, he's talking about- mental strength? This is what throws me off with this stuff, all the time. I don't get it. In order to decide whether or not you agree with someone's philosophy, you have to know what they mean by this or that statement. I can never get past that part.

I suppose I agree with that one idea. Insofar as I understand it, at any rate.

But of course, I can't claim to really understand it at all.

Feeling: Fuzzy-Brained
Hearing: Fuego by Bond
Reading: Shadow of the Moon by M. M. Kaye
Jonesin' For: A Higher IQ

Muse: Hestia Jones
Fandom: Harry Potter
Words: 284

11:45pm: The Langauge
Talk about something you inherited.

I’ve got a lot of stuff to talk about in that category. I mean, both sides of my family are pureblood, and wealthy. Both those things tend to come along with a lot of stuff. Most of it’s useless. That’s why all the pureblood families have such massive houses- they don’t need all the space to live in, they just need somewhere to put all that stuff. And we have to have house elves to clean the houses that are too big for any one family to keep up themselves.

Why doesn’t anybody just have a yard sale? Or donate something to a museum? (Yes, there a few wizarding museums in the world.) Or just throw things away? Sometimes I think the whole of the wizarding world learned how to keep house from the Collyer brothers.

Maybe if we had a few yard sales, we could move into smaller houses and get rid of the house elves. Then we wouldn’t have slavery. But what about elves that feel compelled to do service? I mean, almost all of them? Is that a catch-22?

Anyway, talk about one thing. Huh. One.

Ok, ok, I know.

Feeling: Like a very cunning linguist.
Hearing: Lady Marmalade
Reading: Shadow of the Moon by M. M. Kaye
Jonesin' For: A French boy with a pretty face.

Muse: Hestia Jones
Fandom: Harry Potter
Words: 876

11:39pm: An Amenable Haunting
When I Awoke the Next Morning....

When I awoke the next morning, my parents thought it was gone. That the tiny thing which had caused so much worry, so much upheaval, had simply vanished.

Mama thought that perhaps it was only biding its time and would reappear when we least expected it, to ruin a fancy dinner, or a mid-day nap, or simply to be an annoyance.

Papa thought it had merely grown bored, and as a result had left for good, as such things often did.

The mirrors, who usually never shut up, wouldn’t say a word about the subject. Even the portraits- who almost certainly knew what had happened to it- refused to enlighten their living relatives.

The lack of definitive knowledge frustrated my parents immensely. My mother was constantly on edge, waiting for it return every time she opened a door, or picked up a glass. My father tried to act like he wasn’t concerned, but the mirrors had to reassure him that nothing would go amiss before he picked up his razor every morning.

My father insisted on shaving the muggle way. I think he thought it was more elegant than using a spell.

Anyway, my parents thought it was gone.

I knew it wasn’t.

Feeling: Content
Hearing: Come Together by The Beatles
Reading: The Plague by Albert Camus
Jonesin' For: A grape lollipop

Fandom: Harry Potter
Muse: Hestia Jones
Words: 438

1:32am: OOC POST
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

That whole lapse in posting thing? That was bad. And I'm sorry.

I was cramming for AP tests. Since those are over, I can get back to having a life. Or... not having a life, but spending a good deal of time doing so, as the case may be.

At any rate, I am sorry about that lag. No more APs for a while, though.

I am taking some SATIIs in Junes, though, so there may be a lag then. Around June 3rd- the week preceding that day, I might get lazy again.

So, again, sorry about this bout of laziness, and in case it happens again, sorry in advance.

12:54am: Mama Was a Little Bit Sneaky Sometimes

Write about mother (your own or someone else's).

My mother is the greatest woman alive.

She did all the right motherly things when I was a girl; she taught me how to cook, how to charm my hair in to the perfect style (or tried to- I never could get it right), taught me what every possible fork that might show up on a table was for, and loved me even though I was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I loved my house.

It’s just that my mother was a Slytherin.

 
She was also a Prince.

Feeling: Musical

Hearing: Different Trains

Reading: Vanity Fair (Nearly done!)

12:47am: Pesky Loss
Who was the One that Got Away?

Who?

Well.

I did.


Feeling: Pouty
Hearing: "And Your Bird Can Sing" by the Beatles
Reading: Vanity Fair (Still, but not for much longer!)
Jonesin' For: A banana split

3:13pm: Tall Hats

What is/was your childhood ambition?

Oh, dear.

This is embarrassing.

My childhood ambition... Was to be tall. Can you believe it?

I suppose it's not quite as dumb as it sounds... Alright, it is... But there you have it.

I wanted to be tall.

Let me tell you why.

 
Feeling: Embarrassed
Hearing: I'll Fly Away by Alison Krauss and Gillian Wlech
Reading: Vanity Fair
Jonesin' For: My mum

 

Muse: Hestia Jones

Fandom: Harry Potter

Word Count: 888

11:23pm: Perception
Perception: Generally speaking, how do you think others perceive you?

Oh, I know how people see me. Fat. Fat fat fat. Like a pig. A squishy, pink pig.

They’re not wrong. To be honest, I agree with them. I could stand to lose twenty pounds. Ok, ok, thirty. For a girl who’s only 5’5”, that’s a lot. Snape, when he was still about, always found something to say about it. Mad-Eye always came to my rescue. I think he did it mostly to give Severus what-for, and not out of any great love for me, but that was all right. I always liked Mad-Eye.



Feeling: Loved
Hearing: Foamy's Fat Song
Reading: Vanity Fair (the book, by William Mackpace Thackery, not the magazine, published by Conde Nast)

11:15pm: Microphone
Alright, we don't actually have those in the wizarding world, but I like them anyway.

Testing, testing, one two three.

Hello?

Isn't this just so exciting? Hahaha!

Feeling: Giddy
Hearing: You're Driving Me Crazy (Dianne Reeves)
Reading: Vanity Fair (the book, not the magazine)