Neyinka

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HAAPPY NEW YEAR! =DDD

I hope the coming year is full of laughter and joy!

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I have an interview with CommutAir! =DDD January 4th, in Cleveland, and they're flying me out there, and hopefully I'm going to get to work for them.

*so freaking excited*

In the phone interview, the woman asked, "So how did you become interested in being a flight attendant?"
My answer: "Well, my dad's a pilot for Continental Airlines, as is my uncle, actually."
"So flying's in your blood, then!"

She sounded startled but, I hope, rather pleased.

*bounce, bounce, bounce* Gleeee!

I find myself taking a sick pleasure in being hurt/disappointed because it means that I was right all along.

Oh, that's right--because I wrote THIS.

Title: For A Good Time (brilliant title suggested by philosophercat, go friend her if you haven't already)
Summary: Martha accidentally gives out her old mobile number, and the Doctor receives an interesting call.
Rating: PG
Warnings: I'm tired and this is crack and it's all spoofmaster's fault.

( Martha Jones told herself that she hadn't meant to do it. )

I know that story summaries can be difficult to write. Really. It's hard to condense a whole story down into a line or two.

But don't write, "What if this happened? And what if that happened? And what if that affected everything so?" Maybe it's an effective summary of the concept behind your story, because you happened to be writing a "What if?" story. But it always, without fail, makes me add on, "What if I didn't care? Wait! I don't!" and then I skip it.

Maybe it's just one of my pet peeves, I don't know. But it makes me twitch.

Just got a call from Mom as she was waiting to board her plane in Miami. She was upset that she'd forgotten to pack one of her super-expensive hair products.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to have flat hair for the week," she grumped at me.

"You're doing mission work in a giant garbage dump in Nicuaragua. No one will care about your hair."

Please refer to above Icon.

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Does it strike anyone else as odd that Norad has Santa showing as in Saudi Arabia? Maybe I'm off here, but a country as strictly and proudly Muslim as Saudi Arabia makes me think that the only way Santa would be welcome in their airspace would be if they were going to use him as target practice.

Ah, well. Maybe he shows up for the non-Muslim diplomatic and military population.

Well, it's Christmas Eve. Most of Liv's gifts are wrapped, all but one of Thom's are. I'm making ravioli and meatballs for dinner--all frozen, all canned and I. Don't. Care. I feel like shit again.

At this point, I'm ready to just to give up and accept that I'll never be well again. I have one or two great days, and then I come down with some kind of creeping crud that climbs into sinus cavities and lungs and won't move out. Coughing is now an extreme sport, usually culminating in either a pulled muscle or vomiting--both if I'm extra lucky. If I thought Neti-potting boiling acid into my sinuses would help, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

So yeah, this puts me in a pissy mood. Tomorrow's family gathering is going to be GREAT. (or perhaps Grate depending on how raw my nerves are)

Of course, Mom leaves the 26th for a week in Nicaragua. She's going with a church group to help on a medical mission.

Bless Mom, I know her heart is in the right place but the woman can't live without AC, hates bugs, isn't much more fond of homeless or poor people, can't walk up hills or stairs or on flat surfaces without injuring herself, speaks just enough Spanish to get herself in mucho trouble, and the extent of her medical training has been working in a weight loss clinic and answering phones for an insurance company. She's going to work in some garbage dump slum outside of the capital, and then maybe go into the mountains. I sense either encroaching disaster or enough comedy material to last for years. Or both.

I hope for her sake that this is the trip of a lifetime and that she gets what she needs for herself out of it.

My brother in law is also going. I hope for his sake that she doesn't injure herself.

Anyways, since I'm in a mood anyway and listening to the Christmas Classic station, let me just break down something.

Just because a song has the word "winter" or "snow" does not make it a Christmas song, much less a motherfucking Classic.

Example: "The Gift". I fucking hate this song. Let me rephrase that. I could endure this song if it wasn't on constant rotation as a "Christmas Classic". The only way I'd give this whiny piece of self-indulgent Fogelberg wanna-be saccharine crap the benefit of the doubt of being a "Christmas Classic" is if they exhumed Bing Crosby long enough to sing it.

But I think that zombiefied Bing would refuse to sing that piece of syrupy trash. Even the dead have some shred of dignity.

And then we have "Baby, It's Cold Outside." Has anyone ever listened to the lyrics? This song is an ode to date rape! Any song that asks, "Say, what's in this drink?" or has the exchange of: "I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer? At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride? I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out." should creep out just about anyone...

At this point, I have to put in the caveat that any song that I despise and loathe will become an instant favorite if performed by a member of the Rat Pack. Same for Bing Crosby, Burl Ives, Nat Cole or Mel Torme.

Exhibit 1 of this caveat: Carmen McRae and Sammy Davis, Jr singing "Baby, It's Cold Outside". Sammy takes all the skeeve out and makes me love this version.



But I digress. I also hate anything by Josh Groban. Seriously. ANYTHING. A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. Josh, please, please, please stop yodeling at me to "Believe". The cameo on "Glee", while completely awesome, can only cut you so much slack.

And of course, everyone knows my white hot loathing for that "Christmas Shoes" piece of shit. I literally start thrashing and gritting my teeth when I hear it. My co-workers now know when this song comes on by the sounds of flailing and incensed howls of rage. Jen will lean back and say, "Irene, just skip the damn song!"

There is so much wrong with that song that I just can't cover it all, but suffice it to say that I sincerely doubt that God would kill some kid's mom just to teach a self-absorbed asshole the 'real' meaning of Christmas. Just shut up, asshole.

Let's just say that not even Bing, Burl, and Nat plus the entire Rat Pack (male and female members) singing this abortion while Orlando Bloom, Hugh Jackman and Dwayne Johnson do nude interpretive dance to the melody could make me want to do nothing more but take a cheese grater to my eardrums.

Anyways, I've got to stagger up and make dinner and feed the cats and socialize with the family.

I hope that the holiday--if you celebrate--brings everthing you want from it. I know it will for me--another eleven months before I have to hear that goddamned song again.

Advent #1: "The Santa Equation Simulation." The Big Bang Theory. Gen, Sheldon and Leonard discuss Santa (with help from Penny).
Advent #2: "Not A Creature Was Stirring." Veronica Mars. Logan/Veronica, a Christmas surprise with bonus Backup.
Advent #3: "Mistletoe." Girl Genius. Agatha/Gil, fun with mistletoe. Angry, violent mistletoe.
Advent #4: "Dreaming of a White Christmas." X-Men. Scott/Emma, old Christmases and new Christmases and the color schemes of love.
Advent #5: "Gift Exchange." October Daye. Christmas at Shadowed Hills is definitely unique.
Advent #6: "Days of Christmas." Eureka. Christmas for Henry Deacon.
Advent #7: "Merry Little Christmas." Fringe. Walter and Astrid deck the halls.
Advent #8: "Ride Home." The Wizards of Waverly Place. Christmas chaos with the Russos.
Advent #9: "Scary Little Christmas." NCIS. Abby, McGee, and a goth-girl Christmas.
Advent #10: "Mistleno-no." Glee. Caroling with the kids from New Directions.
Advent #11: "Sugar Snow." The 10th Kingdom. Virginia and Wolf at the beginning of winter.
Advent #12: "Stalker." Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Billy's last Christmas pre-blog.
Advent #13: "The Sacred Festival of Nothing Was Stirring." InCryptid. The Aeslin mice at Christmas.
Advent #14: "The Holiday Expansion Exposition." The Middleman. The Middlegang saves Christmas. Again.
Advent #15: "Cambrian Christmas." Primeval. Connor and Abby plan Christmas dinner.
Advent #16: "Sweeter Than Teacakes." Alice. Hatter and the subject of Christmas.
Advent #17: "Deck the Halls." Halloweentown. Marnie convinces Luke to have a little Christmas spirit.
Advent #18: "Scarecrow Trail." Babylon Wood. The Kitsune Girl and the Mother of Crows walk through winter.
Advent #19: "Hogswatch Eve." Discworld. Susan Sto Helit considers Hogswatch Eve.
Advent #20: "Just A Word." Fans! Rumi, Rikki, and Alison define Christmas.
Advent #21: "Passing the Hat." Darkwing Duck. Christmas with the Mallards.
Advent #22: "Tidal Creatures." Irish mythology/"Still Catch the Tide." Winter, waiting on the shore.
Advent #23: "Humans Are Weird." Disney's Little Mermaid. Ariel experiences winter.
Advent #24: "Like Baking Ham." Sort of Scooby-Doo. Velma at the last Christmas.

Title: Like Baking Ham.
Rating: R.
Fandom: Scooby-Doo, zombies, and a Threadless T-shirt.
Synopsis: What is Christmas like for Velma after the zombie apocalypse?

( What is Christmas like for Velma after the zombie apocalypse? )

Today's fandom suggested by vixyish and vincentursus. Thanks for playing, everybody! Happy holidays!

Sorry, it's just too funny!

I am the daughter of summer, and Mother,
You told me the springtime was mine.
You gave me the stem and the bud and the fruit
Hanging heavy and sweet on the vine.

Now you tell me to yield, be a biddable daughter,
One more thing that the summertime owns.
But my life is my own, and shall be consecrated
With thorns against the stones.

I found a lover in winter, and Mother,
The choice of a husband is mine.
The bitter red seeds of the fruit that he gave me
Were mine to accept, or decline.

Now you tell me to bend, be a dutiful daughter,
To obey even down to my bones.
But my life is my own, and shall be consecrated
With thorns against the stones.

I shall be lovely and liminal, and Mother,
You cannot deny what is mine.
I shall love what I love, I shall dance in the winter,
I have never been yours to define.

Now you tell me to change, be an innocent daughter,
But I choose one of Hades' fair thrones,
For my life is my own, and shall be consecrated
With thorns against the stones.

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Good girls only make the news one way.
Special reports when the kids go to bed
And the ghouls come out to play.
Good girls make their marks and fade away,
People say their prayers and they shake their heads
And they bury them anyway,

And they'll tell you "she was lovely,"
Though they all forget the names
Of the ones who pay the good girl's fee
Down the rocky road to fame—

        So when the crossroads call and your faith is thin
        And you're afraid you might explode,
        Go and talk to the girl in the green silk gown
        Who walks on Sparrow Hill Road.

( Good girls never really seem to last... )