Subtle, much?

Someone on tumblr pointed out that in a multi-fandom name, Supernatural always comes first and Sherlock comes at the end. (Superwholockian, for example).

Whelp.

My new tumblr url is…

drum roll…

destiels-tardis-is-sherlocked

Supernatural (I’m on the good ship Destiel), Doctor Who (TARDIS), Sherlock (duh)

Didn’t mean to do that. It came to me in a dream.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

I’ve decided it’s a hell of a lot more fun to be a teenager on tumblr, obsessing over Delena and loving all things superwholockian, than it is to be a grown up lately.

If you want me, I’ll be over there for a while. Trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

When Fandoms Collide

So much to write about, but I’m going to keep it short.

The “Where’s Finnick? Odair he his!” jokes have started to fly again around the THG Fandom.

My Shenny fanfic has so many little things that are popping up in other fan fics, that I think head canon has taken priority over canon in the fandom. There’s so few new canon Shenny moments, that they’ve already been used to death by other writers. Now, we just need the writers to accept our head canon and put the show back to the way it used to be… before Shamy ruined it.

Weeping. Angels. Weeping. FUCKING. Angels. They will be the death of me. Every time I see a statue now, I can’t blink. I keep hearing Ten tell me if I blink I’m dead. The nightmares! Holy crap did I have nightmares after watching “Blink”. That’s when I know a show is gooooooood.

So much other stuff, but I had fandoms on the brain…. so there you go.

Equal opportunity

Arsey is the kind of dog my dad liked.  Stupid.  Lazy. Cute.  The only thing she demands is love.  24/7/365.  She can never get enough.  NEVER.  Actually, my dad did like her.  A lot. And the feeling was pretty mutual.  They were buddies for the brief time they knew each other.

I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot recently.  I’ve had a few BFOs recently about my future - what I want, where I’m going, how I’m going to get there - and I think in terms of what would make my dad proud.  Forget Jesus - WWMMDP is the question on all the cool kids’ lips.

It’s taken me a ridiculously long time to figure out what I want.  Doing that horizons of focus bit a few weeks ago helped, but recent events at work are helping more.  I know I can get what I want out of a workplace - I just need to take my time and make sure that what is shown to me is truly in line with what I want.  It’s not easy.  I’m so willing to jump at the first chance that it’s hard to take that step back and say “this is not what I want.”  I’ve had some weird experiences lately.  Twice I’ve been passed over at the last minute because the job description changed.  I was jerked around by this guy who had no intention of hiring me due to my commute.  I almost made one of the largest mistakes of my life when I seriously considered working in Worcester for the Baby Sharks.

Patience has never been my strong suit.  And it’s never been Arsey’s either.

I think we both need a cookie and some lovin’.

In the moment

Cesar Milllan, aka The Dog Whisperer,claims that dogs live in the moment. 

I think that’s true.  They have memories, yes, and they know things (like how to spell), but they still live in the moment.

Little Man is a perfect example.  Where Arsey is needy and obnoxious about it, Apache is more likely to stay at a distance and watch.  If it’s time for lovin’, he lets you know.  He’ll rub up against your legs and give you the butt.  He doesn’t like to have his head touched, but when it’s time, you can’t get his butt out of your face. Then there are moments like the one above.

I was playing with my new tripod and remote for the Nikon before heading to CT last week.  I had been messing with Arsey because she’s easy to work with.  (She’s yours for the low, low price of a cookie.)  Apache’s a lot harder to work with, so I was letting him do his thing.  I was laying on the floor, getting Arsey to look cute when I got attacked.

I can’t tell you how hard it was to get this picture, but moments like this are fleeting.  As soon as the shutter snapped, he was back across the room, watching us. 

With Apache, life is very much about that moment… the one minute out of several hundred when he must have lovin’ and will NOT be denied.

If he can give himself that freely to me for even a short time, I think I can let my walls down a little farther, a little more often.