slammerkinbabe: (Default)
Once again, I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the donations to the blogathon I did for Tricia, and the support you all offered through it. Thus far, the donations that have come in total $415, excluding PayPal fees -- i.e., that's $415 in the clear.

As I said when I started this, there's a lot of need in Tricia's family right now, and everyone's working to help. One specific thing that's needed is a child's bed for Jayden, who has recently outgrown his crib. $415 will take care of that. See that adorable little boy on the right side of my icon? You all just bought a bed for him. It won't sponge away the grief of his grandmother's passing. But it'll let him get some solid nights' sleep, and it'll take one more worry off his mother's shoulders. His grandmother's, too. Because with everything that someone does for her family, big or small, Tricia finds a little more peace.

The fund is still open, of course, and there's lots more still to be done. The PayPal link below is open to anyone who wants to donate but hasn't yet had a chance to get around to it, and of course we'd be incredibly grateful for any such donations, but I don't really expect that -- I know people have done what they can. The primary reason I'm putting the button up is because there are still a few people who made pledges to the blogathon that haven't yet come through. If you pledged and you have PayPaled the money, don't worry about this; I'll be sending confirmation emails in the next day or so (should have been doing that all along, but Saturday was my crazy-writing day and Sunday was my crazy-sleeping day) and I don't think there's any reason for anyone to assume their money didn't go through. If you pledged and you know that you haven't paid up yet, please do either PayPal the money along or email me at slammerkinbabe at livejournal to let me know what's up. If the button isn't working or whatever, the email address to which money can be PayPaled is psychesmaia at yahoo dot com. If you can't remember if you pledged or not, the pledges are here, in the comments. There are at least $175 still outstanding, so it'll make the difference between just over $400 and just under $600. And just so we're clear, just under $600 is really an amazing amount for a thing like this to raise. I never expected it, and once again, I'm so grateful.

I'm going to see Tricia tonight, and I'm bringing a check with me. I will post to let you all know how it goes and what she says.

To every single person who put in one single dollar: thank you so so so so so so much.








slammerkinbabe: (Default)
::exhales slowly::

Guys? Hour twenty.

Hour. Twenty.

Hour twenty is done-time. Hour twenty is bedtime. Hour twenty is dead-time.

Well, hopefully not that.

In the end, I'm afraid that my concluding post is going to be no more inspiring than my initial one. When I started this today, I was really kind of terrified. I mean, writing for twenty hours? That's... you know... a lot of hours. I don't know exactly how many words it came out to, but I'm guessing each post averaged between a thousand and fifteen hundred. Meaning... twenty-five thousand words? Today? What the hell did I think I was doing?

You know, I don't honestly know. But whatever it was, I did it. Ha.

There were some thinky pieces I wanted to make and didn't, and some last-minute-request posts that turned out better than I thought. There were also many, many Diet Cokes consumed, cries for chocolate and caffeine (why did I eat all my Christmas stocking candy before now? why why why why why?), and I don't know how many moans and groans to λ about how I just could not write another word omg. λ is very nice, I should add. She cooked me meals and gave me hugs, both of which were pretty indispensable things.

At hour seventeen I got a call from my mom. She'd just gotten back from Tricia's house. Due to the hard work of about two dozen people, they got the relevant areas of her home renovated, and Tricia is now resting comfortably. My mom said she seems calm and at peace right now, after a very rough beginning to the week. Mom and I talked awhile about what I wrote about in hour fifteen at [livejournal.com profile] ftmichael's request -- what it means for everyone to do just that one thing that they can do; what it adds up to and what it can mean. For Tricia, this week, it added up to a lot.

A lot.

I am going to bed now, and sometime tomorrow afternoon -- well into the afternoon -- I'm going to visit Tricia. I'll tell her about how it went and what we raised, whatever that turns out to be.

What's happening isn't okay, and I know I will be feeling that like a knife in the gut soon. Maybe as soon as a few days from now. But just for now... well, just for now, it feels okay. I feel good about what I've done today, and from what my mother said, Tricia is feeling good as well.

Good night, everyone. And thanks.

This is the hour twenty post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above.






slammerkinbabe: (!confused (wembley))
[livejournal.com profile] law_nerd asked for another fanfic -- again, in any of the three fandoms noted before. I think it's pretty funny how these two fics bookend the blogathon. You can sort of see the evolution of my moods and subconscious tendencies. The result is that I don't even know how to apologize for this.

Title: Control
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda Priestly/Jacqueline Follet
Rating: PG-13, at least
Word count: ~1,200
Summary: Who the hell knows? It's fucking hour nineteen, man.
Notes: Once more, unedited; once more, embarrassing. This time, surprisingly grotesque at times. I think my brain is really really pissed at me for keeping it awake from 3:30 am until now and is demonstrating it in rather creepy ways. For the record, I'd have changed the ending if I could, but on an hour's worth of writing time there's no way to wrestle my Muse from the driver's seat, no matter how wackass she gets.

Control )

This is the hour nineteen post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
For hour seventeen, [livejournal.com profile] aerinha asked that I write about music and my relationship to it, whether in terms of vocal performance or otherwise.

musical notes )

This is the hour seventeen post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
Here's something you probably didn't know about me:

I am actually a Muppet.



I am a tired Muppet. I am a bag-eyed Muppet. I am a Muppet with a lousy camera phone. I am a Muppet who almost called herself a wombat, just now. Nevertheless: courtesy of chavvah, I am a Muppet. )

This is the hour sixteen post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] ftmichael asked that I write sometime tonight about a quotation in one of his icons: "It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness." He suggested that I write about it in the context of what I'm doing here today. But it struck me with a pang as I was thinking about the quotation that there's something else that sentiment entails, something that I should have said and I haven't yet -- rather inexcusably:

Thank you.

This whole blogathon would mean absolutely nothing at all without your support. )

This is the hour fifteen post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (!confused (wembley))
Oh, boy, guys. We are moving into a long, lo-ong stretch here.

sigh )

This is the hour fourteen post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
Lately I've been getting the best spam messages ever.

No, no, guys, look! I know where you're going with this, and you're wrong. It's not that I've been getting amusingly misspelled encouragements to increase the size of a penis that I don't have. It's not that I've been getting messages from Tallulah L. Pocketprotractor or Humphrey Q. Snotbasket. It's not the deposed king of Nigeria wanting to make me a millionaire. It's not even Ben Stein telling me George Carlin jokes about Obama's childhood in a Nazi madrassa.

It's poetry.

It started with Wordsworth. )

This is the hour thirteen post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (!confused (wembley))
Now I'm running late because of the Photo Struggle of Doom, so this post is going to be brief. It is also probably not going to be very interesting to many people, but it is something I feel strongly about, and so I must speak my mind:

People, I love hearing about your dreams. Why are you always hating on mine?

I know, I know, it's not just mine. )

This is the hour twelve post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
So for hour eleven, [livejournal.com profile] geekjul delighted me by asking whatever happened to my best friend Jenny the Purse Doll, who befriended me in a jewelry store once and begged to come home with me, and who thereby convinced my friends and family alike that I was totally deranged. Accordingly I went a-posting, or a-preparing for a-posting, anyway.

Unfortunately, a-preparing took *way* the hell longer than it should have. In fact, I nearly gave up, shoved poor [livejournal.com profile] geekjul off to hour twelve, and made a post about how fucking much I hate not having Photoshop anymore. I have a cell phone camera and it does not take good pictures and I have Paint.NET but we only got it two days ago and I don't know how to do very much with it. I just spent 45 minutes fighting with these pictures and they're *still* shit.

So this post is late. But! That is not for lack of effort on my part!

ANYWAY.

So! As noted, months and months ago, I found my best friend Jenny the Purse Doll in the So Good jewelry shop at Downtown Crossing. Basically, she popped her head out of a bargain bin and told me she was my best friend and she was coming home with me. This met with some resistance on the part of λ, who thought Jenny was a.) ugly and b.) clutter. Then I posted about Jenny to LJ, and most of LJ reaffirmed that Jenny was a.) ugly and b.) clutter. At that point I basically thumbed my nose at LJ and hugged Jenny close, murmuring soothing words to her until everyone left us alone.

Unfortunately, the fact of the matter is that I am *not* very good at keeping anything, even my best friends, from becoming clutter around this house. And so, after some deliberation, I hung Jenny the Purse Doll on the wall. (SHE HAS A HANDLE, YOU GUYS. I'LL THANK YOU NOT TO ACCUSE ME OF STRANGLING MY FRIENDS.) I thought she could watch out over our living room, rather like a beneficent angel pouring kindness and beauty down upon us each day:



And there she stayed, lo, these many moons. Being an angel. Not clutter.

However, when [livejournal.com profile] geekjul posted asking about whatever had happened to Jenny, I started to feel bad. Looking at her hanging on the wall of our apartment each day, I began to get the sense that she was lonely. If so, 'twere a cruel fate for a best friend to meet. So I decided that maybe Jenny needed some friends.

First I thought I would introduce her to the Virgin Mary. )

This is the hour eleven post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
For hour ten, [livejournal.com profile] docmanhattan has asked me to write about GOTH.

I meant to do research on this, Doc, honestly I did. Research seemed the thing to do, since what I know of goth culture is, like, "they like black and death and stuff?"

Research did not happen, so I thought for a minute maybe I'd run with the allcaps and see if I couldn't find out if GOTH was an acronym for something. And lo and behold, Google did in fact provide me with two answers!

See:

GOTH -- Guardians of the Heavens (gaming clan)
GOTH -- Gathering Off the Hill (Volkswagen car club; UK)


...Hrm.

I don't... quite... know what a "clan" is in the context of gaming. I could venture a guess, but forty-seven billion people on my friends list would leap in to correct me with particulars, so I think I should stay out of that. As for the second thing... there are Volkswagen car clubs? Really? I think maybe I should leave that one alone on general principles.

Thus: goth culture.

things I know, things I don't know, opinions I form without much reason )

This is the hour ten post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
For hour eight, [livejournal.com profile] givesmevoice asked that I write about musical theater. I have been gawping at this blank screen for -- well, for like two minutes probably, but my sixty-minute clock is ticking! -- and I don't even know where to begin. And if any of you comment to tell me I should start at the very beginning because it's a very good place to start, I will... I don't know. Tell you that I already made that joke, I guess.

Since I am currently 100% inspiration-free, what I am doing is... a meme! About Broadway! [livejournal.com profile] givesmevoice, I don't think you'll mind? But if you'd rather a non-meme post, let me know and I'll do it up later (free, natch). There are still slots open.

meeeeeeeeeeme )

This is the hour eight post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
I have a problem, guys:

I'm in love with a nineteen-year-old boy.

Fact one is that this is a celebrity crush, fact two is that this has nothing to do with my real life or my marriage, fact three is that nineteen years old is legal in all states, but fact four is that I'm twenty-eight and OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO HELL. )

This is the hour seven post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (!confused (wembley))
Okay, guys. It's hour six, and you know what I'm going to tell you about?

Eggs. Right here, right now, I am telling you about eggs.

Eggs )

This is the hour six post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (!confused (wembley))
Hey, guys! You know what's awesome? Hitting a wall at hour five of your twenty-hour blogathon! I mean this is SO FANTASTIC! You've all got to try it!

Only not. At all.

don't read this post )

This is the hour five post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] fanboy_of_zeus asked me to talk about the first novel I ever tried to write. Damian, after you asked that, I tried like hell to find a copy of my first significant attempt at a novel, because it is probably one of the funniest things that has ever seen the light of a monitor. Sadly, I couldn't find it. So I'm going to have to try to describe it. I can assure you that I am not going to be able to convey a tenth of the goofiness of this thing. I'm kind of heartbroken that it seems to be lost.

So. My very first novel was called, I believe, The Way Through the Mirror. I began it in the summer between fourth and fifth grade, and I finished a little over a hundred single-spaced pages of it by the time school started again and I stopped writing. On the one hand, I sort of envy my ten-year-old self's daily wordcount. On the other hand, while I suppose that's a pretty good speed for a kid, it was facilitated significantly by the fact that in writing it I threw aside all considerations of plot, coherence, and almost everything else that makes a novel a novel. But at least there was a lot of it!

The plot went something like this:

The way through the mirror is full of porcelain-skinned girls with waist-length black hair and PSYCHIC POWERS! )

This is the hour four post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.






slammerkinbabe: (!confused (wembley))
Every night I take thirteen pills to keep me alive and sane. Here they are:



I can take these all in one gulp, by the way. )


This is the hour three post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.

And you are all going to laugh your asses off at this, but I will not have a PayPal button until a few hours from now, because λ was the one who set that up and figured out how to do it and she forgot to email the instructions to me before she went to bed. If you want to donate right now, you can PayPal money to psychesmaia at yahoo dot com the labor-intensive way. Otherwise I'll edit this post and all others to show the button when λ wakes up in three or four hours.
slammerkinbabe: (Default)
I don't believe I am writing this. This is what happens when I wake up at three-thirty in the morning and try to write fanfic. CRACK, is what happens. SHEER AND UTTER CRACK. And the request wasn't even cracky in and of itself! [livejournal.com profile] law_nerd asked for femslashy fanfic, preferably in the Devil Wears Prada, Xena, or any-character-played-by-Julie-Andrews fandoms. There are so very many options for pairings there that would not require the writer to be a total and complete lunatic.

Unfortunately, I am a total and complete lunatic, and at four-thirty in the morning I am not good at hiding it. And so this is what you get. [livejournal.com profile] law_nerd, if this is so ridiculous that you want your money back, let me know and I will meet your request in a not-ridiculous way in a later post.

Title: Feed the Birds [if you folks want an original title on this deadline you're dreaming]
Fandom: Mary Poppins
Rating: G
Pairing: Mary Poppins/the bird lady (hereby christened "Clara")
Word count: ~1,500
Summary: Practically perfect people never allow sentiment to muddle their thinking.
Notes: This is unedited for obvious reasons, so please excuse any and all errors -- if possible, up to and including its being a piece of crap. No, I have not tried to render Dick van Dyke's crazy fake cockney accent in the vernacular. You can imagine it. More relevantly, I don't own any of these characters, and I am not making money off of this. My aunt Tricia is receiving a donation to assist with end-of-life care and to help support her dependents once she's gone. I am not taking a penny of that money, and thus by definition am not getting paid.
ETA: I just finished this and OMG IT IS SO RIDIC. I can't believe I'm posting this to my real journal. I'm always kind of embarrassed about my fanfictional efforts anyway, but this so takes the cake. omgomgomg.

Feed the Birds )


This is the hour two post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.

And you are all going to laugh your asses off at this, but I will not have a PayPal button until a few hours from now, because λ was the one who set that up and figured out how to do it and she forgot to email the instructions to me before she went to bed. If you want to donate right now, you can PayPal money to psychesmaia at yahoo dot com the labor-intensive way. Otherwise I'll edit this post and all others to show the button when λ wakes up in three or four hours.
slammerkinbabe: (Default)
So. Here I go. Twenty straight hours of blogging.

Eep.

I will admit it, guys: I am completely underprepared for this. I am sitting here in a room whose heat broke two days ago, next to a window with a killer draft; I am wearing a purple bathrobe and rainbow socks courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] chavvah, and I should be wearing a Fraggle hat courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] chavvah but I'm not yet; my head is killing me and I don't know why; I don't drink coffee, and I don't drink tea; it's too cold for Diet Coke; and I have no idea what to say. This first post was supposed to be easy -- the introduction post, right? The I'm-gearing-up-for-this-awesome-badass-day-of-blogorrhea post?

Yeah, not so much.

And yet we go on )

This is the hour one post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.

And you are all going to laugh your asses off at this, but I will not have a PayPal button until a few hours from now, because λ was the one who set that up and figured out how to do it and she forgot to email the instructions to me before she went to bed. If you want to donate right now, you can PayPal money to psychesmaia at yahoo dot com the labor-intensive way. Otherwise I'll edit this post and all others to show the button when λ wakes up in three or four hours.

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