deird1: Anya and Willow gazing after RJ, with text "if you'll excuse me I'm having a fangirl moment" (Anya Willow fangirl)
Today I fulfilled one of my lifelong ambitions, by standing outside Downing Street and eating half a Yorkie Bar. (The husband ate the other half.) We then walked to St James' Park, and looked at the ducks.

(We also went on the London Eye, had communion at Westminster Abbey, and went to Madame Tussauds. All very fun.)


Aug. 31st, 2014 06:29 am
deird1: Mother Gothel, swooning dramatically (Gothel swoon)
When the Spice Girls first started, my only connections to the word "ginger" were
1) the spice
2) the expression "full of ginger"

So I concluded that Ginger Spice was "full of ginger", and that they'd also gone with a subtle pun because she's a "spice" girl.

It was only last night that my brain finally went "Oh... She's a redhead..."
deird1: Aang and Zuko standing back-to-back (Aang Zuko)
These are not the dumbest things I've ever done, but they're certainly the ones that stick the most in my memory:

1) typo-ing my resume
2) setting a cake on fire
3) forgetting to wear a shirt
4) slicing a light in half
5) accidentally insulting my whole prac group

an explanation )


May. 6th, 2014 12:30 pm
deird1: Andrew - with James Bond style intro (Andrew james bond)
This is the story of how a young fanficcer, taking her first steps into a new world of fandom, eagerly decided to do lots of research to make her fic extra-awesome, and did just enough research to totally screw up the whole thing.

Here's the thing. I'm not really a Star Trek fan, but I know the vague outline. These days, having looked at much of TV Tropes, I'm a bit more conversant than I was 6 years ago. Which... brings us to our story.

You see, I was writing a teeny ficlet starring Andrew. Nothing major - just 300 words or so. But I was trying hard to write him well, and keep it in character, and I threw in a Trek reference, because, why not?

The joke was that Andrew had gone to a convention, very eager to get a signature from an actor. An actor who'd only been in a single episode, but of course, Andrew being Andrew, he knew exactly what the guy's name was and which episode he'd been in, and was very eager to line up for a signature., I went on IMDB and Wikipedia, and looked at Voyager episodes, trying to find a one-episode character I could use. None of that making up names for me, oh no. I was going to do it properly. Sure enough, I found a character who'd only appeared once, put him in my fic, and thought no more about it.

Until a few weeks ago. When I was re-reading some of my old fic.

And I got to the one with Andrew, and was reading it happily when I got to the Star Trek bit and thought "...hang on. That sounds familiar."

Because, yes, I've been hanging round fandom for several years now. No matter how much Trek you don't watch, there's a few facts you're bound to pick up.

It took me less than a minute to check. And then several minutes more to stop headdesking, because, you see, what I'd done...

Well, what I'd done was have Andrew line up at a convention to get a signature from Commander Riker, that's what. Mister Growing-The-Beard Himself.

Which totally changes the line, and also makes Andrew look slightly moronic for talking about Riker coming from Voyager when he's actually from Next Gen.

Yes, I'm an idiot. Feel free to mock me. *grins*
deird1: a fictional creature called an Alot, being hugged by someone, with text "I care about this alot" (Alot)
The local radio station currently has this thing they do called "...said NO-ONE EVER."

Like "Isn't it wonderful being stuck in traffic! ...said NO-ONE EVER." Or "I hate having the day off work! ...said NO-ONE EVER."

They put these in between songs, with the idea clearly being to say "Look at how relatable we are! We know what you think! You hate being stuck in traffic? We hate being stuck in traffic! We're like you! Listen to our radio station!"

I don't know how effective it is, but it's a strategy that is failing horribly on me, simply because of the first one of these that I heard. It said: "I just love hearing my eTag beep when I'm on Citylink! ...said NO-ONE EVER."

The problem with this? I do kinda love it. I get what they're going for – the fact that tolls cost money, and every time it beeps I'm losing a few cents. But... the eTags do it all automatically, and every time it beeps I get a little jump of "Ooh! Technology! How fun!" which makes me feel really cool and modern and like we're going to have flying cars any day now.

...which makes me all grumpy and annoyed at the radio station calling me "no-one ever". Because, stuff you, radio station! I like my automatic payment beeping thingy!
deird1: Faith, with text " 'sup, bitches?" (Faith bitches)
I am, in many ways, rather weird. And while I knew this already, this whole wedding thing keeps finding ways to remind me.

It's slightly surreal to find yourself locked in a two-hour argument about precisely how many minutes the speeches will go for, and exactly who is going to speak in which order, when you know perfectly well that you do not care in the slightest about the speeches. You can get very invested in astoundingly trivial things.

Like speeches.

Or nails.

How Much I Do Not Care About This Thing I Suddenly Have To Care About

I take little-to-no care of my nails, normally. This is slightly because they suck, and tend to tear off at random intervals, and slightly because nails (like "fashion", and "sports") are just not really something I'm interested in.

My sister, on the other hand, is a Nail Afficionado. She has several dozen nailcare tools at her disposal, and uses them all with great enthusiasm. As a result, she tends to have gorgeous nails.

So, since I'm getting married, my sister suggested that I try paying slightly more attention to my nails than normal (ie: any attention whatsoever), because then I would have lovely nails for my wedding, and she would be very thrilled with this. Hence, I have dutifully been using nail strengthening stuff, crystal nail files, and other weird things.

And, let me tell you, even if you don't care in the slightest about concrete, if you spend an hour a day smoothing out a section of concrete then you will come to care, passionately and deeply, about keeping that concrete smooth. The same applies to nails.

A Terrible Problem, And A Worse Solution

So, last week, my nail tore rather dramatically. And after spending several days dutifully reinforcing it with tissue and extra nail polish, it was clear extra measures were called for.

I went to the nearest nail salon. This was a bad idea.

(Sidenote: My sister interpreted my interest in nail salons as a fixed idea, and so did not bother objecting to it. I interpreted her nodding her head – rather than shrieking in dismay and dragging me away – as approval. In future, I want to install Subtext Interpreters in every location I frequent, to prevent further mishaps.)

The nail salon fixed the broken side of my nail! Yay! And utterly destroyed the other side of it! Woe!!! At which point, being overly invested in my smooth concrete lovely nails, and not a little highly strung from wedding prep, I collapsed in a wailing pile of RUINED FOREVER.

My family tried to fix this problem by pointing out wonderful solutions to make it not show up in photos - which I did not take well. Because, really, I don't care about having nice nails for photos! I don't care about nails at all! But I'd taken SUCH GOOD CARE of them, and now they were DESTROYED, and MY LIFE WAS OVER!!!

In the end, everyone shrugged and started telling me about all the things that went horribly wrong at their weddings, which made me giggle.

Yes, I Am Insane, But In A Productive Way

The thing that really made me feel better?

You're going to think I'm weird...

But anyway...

It was Buffy Summers. Specifically: the scene in which Buffy is talking about fighting vampires, and complains, "I broke a nail, okay? I'm wearing a press-on!"

Buffy fights vampires! She has no ability to keep her nails nice, because of all the vampire slayage! Woo!

Here is my new head-canon for my own totally imaginary life: I have been out fighting evil marauders for months on end, with my brilliant sword fighting skills. Which has totally destroyed my nails – so, upon my return to the castle to prepare for my upcoming wedding, the Royal Nail Fixers did the best job they could of giving me pretty nails, but were of course unable to replace the bits that had been sliced off by my opponents' swords.

Yes, I am very strange. BUT I'm a strange person who is ALSO a cool arse-kicking sword fighter, who lives in a CASTLE. I AM TOO AWESOME TO BE FAZED BY HOW MY NAILS LOOK. I FIGHT EVIL, BITCAS.

...whatever works. *shrugs*


Mar. 3rd, 2013 07:10 pm
deird1: Spike looking at Harmony, with text "you were meant for me; perhaps as punishment (Spike Harmony punishment)
In my quest to rewatch Alien, I have now managed to borrow:

- Aliens (because the S on the end was fairly invisible)

- Alien 3 (because the 3 wasn't even attached to the same word - I mean, come on)

- Alien Resurrection (because the movie studio was so ashamed of having made it that they made the packaging say "Alien Resurrection")

One day I'll get the right one...
deird1: Chiana, head on one side (Chiana)
My brain has a weird relationship with tv split-screens.

Every time I watch The Parent Trap, I spend half the movie trying to figure out what Hallie and Annie's distinguishing features are - before once again realising that they're both Lindsay Lohan and by definition have the exact same face.

And tonight? I was rewatching Doctor Who, when Amy and Amelia got together and started talking... and I spent far too long wondering what kind of split-screen they were using. And then realised that, even though they're playing the same person, they're two different actors. They're obviously two different actors. Who couldn't possibly be mistaken for the same actor. And yet...

Like I say. My brain has not yet learned the difference between fiction and reality. One of these decades I'll figure that out.
deird1: Illyria, with text "Godking" (Illyria godking)
Watching tv last night, I decided that when I become a mob boss, I'm going to institute a very generous retirement program.

Almost every mob boss I've ever seen on tv has had their downfall arrive via a mob guy who "just wants to get out of the game", but knows that "get out of the game" is pretty much the same as "get horribly slaughtered by my former employer", and is thus desperate enough to hand said employer over to the cops.

Hence, during my reign as mob boss extraordinaire, I will greet anyone wanting to "get out of the game" with encouragement and understanding. I will then provide them with a generous sum of money (based on their years of service) and with the full use of their limbs. Provided that they never open their mouths about their time in my employ. And also that they don't steal from me on the way out the door - another common problem.

I will then make it clear to them that, should they feel the need to break our agreement about the not-talking and not-stealing, I will also feel duty-bound to break my agreement about the full use of their limbs.

I think it's a workable plan.
deird1: Willow and Tara looking amused, with text "Willow & Tara think you are nuts" (Willow Tara nuts)
Just rubbed out the apostrophe in "pasta's" on the chalkboard at my coffee shop.

That's one good deed for the day...
deird1: Willow looking worried, with text "Eek." (Willow eek)
I just looked my boss in the eye, and informed him that I would be able to turn 13 pages of dot-points into an entire written report full of interesting prose.


deird1: Mother Gothel, swooning dramatically (Gothel swoon)
I have two images in my head.

One is of me, down at Philip Island, riding my bike alongside my two adorable nephews, both riding the bikes they got for Christmas. How fun! And auntyish!

The other is of my bike dropping off the back of my car halfway down the freeway to Philip Island, being horribly crushed by the car behind me, and reduced to a couple of bits of twisted metal for me to mourn over. 6pm this evening, whichever image seems more probable to me at that instant will dictate whether I take my bike down to Philip Island or not.
deird1: Twilight Sparkle's hot air balloon (MLP:FiM hot air balloon)
I did the Myers-Briggs today (as part of my career counseling for wow-you-totally-stopped-doing-your-job-and-started-failing-at-life stress breakdown thing).

It was... rather fun. Mainly because I am very strange, and thus came up with weird ways of figuring out my answers to all the questions.

Such as:
Would you rather be friends with someone who is bubbly, or someone who is down-to-earth? which I thought very seriously, for several minutes, about whether I would rather hang out with Pinkie Pie, or Applejack.

And then there was a question about whether I'd prefer being intelligent or kind-hearted, so I tried to figure out whether I would rather be Twilight Sparkle or Fluttershy...

It makes sense, though! Really! I'm not just strange! If you think about it, the ponies are on a show for little girls, so their characters all have to be fairly simplistic and stereotypical so the teeny six-year-old brains don't get confused. Which means that, when tackling a questionaire that asks about different stereotypical personality stuff, using ponies as examples WORKS REALLY WELL.

*sighs* I might as well face it – I have lost my heart to MLP:FiM, and I'm not getting it back.

deird1: Spike looking at Harmony, with text "you were meant for me; perhaps as punishment (Spike Harmony punishment)
Mez working as an engineer:
*stares out the window*
*checks email*
(repeat ad infinitum)

Mez working as an editor:
*starts reading document*
"What on earth?"
*reads some more*
*frantically red-pencils the page*
"ARGH! No! Stupid- Why would- BAD WRITING! SO BAD! Gah!"
*has now reached the end of page 1*

I'm not exactly the most relaxing colleague...

to arms!

May. 14th, 2011 02:16 pm
deird1: Spike mock-threatening Joyce, with text "GRR." (Spike grrr)
Does anyone else buy those rolls of wrapping paper, and then use them as swords to fight imaginary enemies in the carpark?

Just me?

Okay then.
deird1: Willow and Tara looking amused, with text "Willow & Tara think you are nuts" (Willow Tara nuts)
A few weeks ago, I was driving home from my Thursday Night Group, and got the shock of my life when I turned and saw a HUGE SPIDER on my passenger-side window. (On the outside, thank goodness.)

The spider was clinging for dear life to the outside of my car, as I drove at breakneck speed down the road. I wasn't all that sympathetic, though - my gut instincts for spiders range from "Ahhhspiderahhhh" to "KILLKILLKILL". My major concern at the time was how on earth I was going to get out of my car without it sneaking across the roof and attacking me as I emerged from safety.

Tonight? Same location, same thing: BIG SPIDER on my passenger-side window.

Cue Mez freaking out, again, and nearly driving off the road in shock and terror.

But then... I started thinking.

And I realised that clearly the poor old original spider had dropped onto a nice shiny playground shaped like a car, in all innocence, never realising that he was about to be whisked away to a strange and terrifying new place.

And this spider, loving friend of the original spider, was risking her life and limb in a desperate mission to find her beloved and bring him home.

It's a lot harder to wish death to spiders when they're suddenly BRAVE HEROIC spiders and you're secretly cheering them on.


Mar. 15th, 2011 12:54 pm
deird1: Fred looking nervous (Fred nervous)
I've signed up for the Remix! Again!

How the heck do I keep on thinking this is a good idea?!
deird1: Katara looking pretty (Katara eyes)
I have this habit of taking books with me, just in case.

In a typical day, the odds are that I'm going to spend time sitting on a train, or waiting for a meeting to start, or waiting for someone to show up at a cafe, or similar. In those circumstances, it's useful to have a book to pass the time. So I tend to have one in my bag.

I have a lot of bags.

I discovered, last night, that the first Harry Potter book wasn't on my bookcase where it should be. And went "Aha! I remember taking that as my spare book a couple of weeks ago! It must be in my bag."

I checked bag one. No Harry Potter - but there was an Anne of Green Gables book.

Bag two? Zombie Survival Guide.

Bag three? Introverts Guide to the Church.

Bag four? Agatha Christie.

Bag five? Agatha Christie.

All in all, I found thirteen books, all there just in case I needed something to read while I was carrying that bag. I still haven't found my Harry Potter book...

cake fail

Dec. 30th, 2010 09:49 pm
deird1: puppet!Angel headdesking, with text "*headdesk*" (PuppetAngel headdesk)
This is why I should never be allowed to cook things:

Note how half the cake is out of the tin, and the other half is still inside...

Last time this happened I had to dig out the remaining chunks, stack them on top of each other, and call it "tumbled butter cake" to fool people into thinking it had been intentional.

Not sure what I'll do this time.



ETA: How the heck do you get photobucket photos to not take up way too much room on the screen? I resized it and everything...
deird1: Fred looking nervous (Fred nervous)
Dreamt that sister 1 and I were leading a resistance movement against sister 2's zombie army.

Not sure why...


deird1: Fred looking pretty and thoughful (Default)

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