For fan fic, Jawn!

can you believe this counts as research?

If one is writing a prompt titled “gazing into each other’s eyes” one better make damn sure they know what colour eyes the characters are supposed to have.

And this is where the line between fiction and reality starts to blur. (Which is the never ending cause of friction between those of us who like to play with the characters and the actors who portray them.)

The problem with radio programmes is that you never see the characters. For example, Martin and Douglas are never truly described in “Cabin Pressure”, so we pull from what the voice actors look like. It gives us a good starting place and allows the fandom to at least agree on something…

 

arthur, douglas, carolyn, martin

john finnemore, roger allam, stephanie cole, and benedict cumberbatch

As any member of the Cumbercollective knows, Martin/Benedict’s eyes are blue/brown/gold/green/grey/silver. Or any combination thereof.

But the best part - and this is a real thing - is that Benedict has an eye freckle.

An. Eye. Freckle.

Dude. Seriously.

Look carefully at the picture.

Does this help?

And now, I have Douglas saying something like, “what the fuck is that on your eyeball, Martin? Is that a bloody freckle?!?!”

Ah, art…

Where am I from?

I’m absolutely fascinated with this dialect quiz the NYT put together.

The first time I took it, it said my three most similar were: Worcester, Boston, and Springfield.

My three least similar: New Orleans, Detroit and Toledo. (insert giggling here)

I took it today and my three most similar are Worcester, Springfield and Rochester NY

My least similar were: Houston, Jackson MS, and New Orleans

At least I’m consistent - I was born about an hourish from Worcester / Springfield and I guess that does inform a lot of my speech.

Memory landmines

st paul’s cathedral & millennium bridge, from the tate modern

Can I? Can I just…

I have this picture in a scrapbook, and I’ve been thinking about using it as a FB cover photo or in my blog for a long time. Seeing how the bridge wasn’t built until 2000 the photo was definitely from my 2002 trip to London. The one where I thought I only had a digital camera.

I was getting so annoyed / pissed off / absolutely enraged that out of all the thousands of London pictures I have, the one I want is the one I can not find. Anywhere.

And then, I came across a print of the photo.

A. Print.

What. The. Fuck.

No. Seriously. I have no idea where the print came from. All of the other pictures in that scrapbook were digital. There’s no reason that that one picture should only exist in my world as a print.

——

If you’re friends with me on Facebook, today you saw:
1) the closing paperwork from when my dad sold the house I grew up in

2) business cards from WRK and the Storm

3) ‘souvenirs’ from my time as an intern for the Hartford Failures

So very weird to find all that stuff. I like to call them “memory landmines” - you know, you’re going through a box of stuff and it’s like “oh, bills, bills, what the hell did I save this for, and HOLY FUCK! I SAVED A STORM BUSINESS CARD!”

I found that Storm card, and suddenly, I was packing my car and moving to Ohio, meeting J and just… reliving all that.

I didn’t spend nearly enough time cleaning that room out. There’s so much more to do, and so much I’m not capable of dealing with right now.

Eh, I can only do what I can do, and that’s asking a little much right now.

Oh, BBC America, go fuck yourself…

i would have been ejected from the game yesterday

My fan fic feeds blow up every time there’s a school vacation, and yesterday alone over 200 new pieces were published (chapters and full works).

Needless to say, I was checking my email and RSS reader about every hour just so I could (barely) keep up.

So imagine my surprise when around 6 or 7 PM, there’s a post from the BBC America “anglophenia” blog giving a full review of the Doctor Who Christmas episode.

You know, the one where the Eleventh Doctor is scheduled to die and be replaced with Twelve.

It wasn’t really anything I wanted to be spoiled for, so I spent the day off of social media and basically tried to just work on the CP 30 Day Challenge, knit, and keep up with the fan fic. I had even decided to behave myself and not watch the livestream.

I never expected that BBC America would schedule a blog entry to appear BEFORE the episode actually aired. When I first came across it, it didn’t warn that there were spoilers. When I came across it later, they had finally put a spoiler notice in.

It’s not bad enough that we get reruns of terrible American tv shows, it’s not bad enough that they air American movies, and it’s not bad enough that they edit episodes before they air here…

No. Now the fuckers have to spoil MAJOR episodes before they air.

That said, it was a pretty good episode.

Moffat surprised me with the way he handled the regeneration limit. It was better than I expected, but not as good as it should have been. (The dig at Ten was pretty funny, but the deus ex machina moment kind of left me feeling ‘eh’.)

The reveal of Twelve wasn’t quite what I wanted, and Eleven’s Ten-esque like pre-regeneration bit left me feeling kind of cold.

BUT. I still cried, and I’ll miss Eleven a lot more than I expected to, so I guess the episode was a bit of a success.

Now, we have to wait to see how Sherlock survives the fall.

I really hope it’s better than Eleven’s death.

It’s Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Day!