i love you too but i'm gonna mace you in the face

PART ONE  /  

Part One / Part Two / ( Part Three )

So, I've been in England for three weeks and I don't have internet in my flat/prison cell, yet, but I'm told I should have it by tomorrow evening, fingers crossed. I have been doing all my e-mailing and minor stuff, and this, in a computer cluster; nothing else, because I had been resolutely hoping the entire time that I would wake up one morning and everything would be fine, but it wasn't and, well, I won't bore you with any more of that, and will just tell you that: I'm doing well, classes are fine, I am not caught up on TV at all, and I've made some friends.

And how have I passed the time without the internet?

I wrote my first Criminal Minds story. I was going to wait until I had internet, but then I decided I just really wanted to get it out there, since it was done.


Title: AND WE WERE TROJANS
Author: greatunironic
Rating: R
Word count: 6,100
Summary: He’s found it’s the little things that get you.
Note: Matthew Gray Gubler said once that, if the series went on long enough, he’d like to see Reid become one of the people they hunt. This is my first Criminal Minds work. * Spoilers through the middle of season four, though it’s only for a few characters and no real plot. * Title from Virgil’s The Aeneid.


November 14, 2008 – February 1, 2009



( Troy was, and we were Trojans. )

So, I've recently become addicted to Criminal Minds. Popsicle and I watched it when it first premiered when I was in high school -- MANDY PATINKIN; he was our mutual love -- but I stopped when I cam to college, because I didn't have time. Now that I have realized I can write a paper in half an hour and still get an A, I have begun to watch again. (Seriously, amount work done to Criminal Minds watched is inversely correlated.)

The show is clever and funny and dramatic and I was dangerously close to quoting it in my public policy class yesterday when we were discussing school shootings.

And ( re: last night. )

I'm going to see another improv troupe tomorrow night and am baking a pie from scratch tomorrow afternoon.

Also, I was officially accepted to Manchester about four weeks ago. WORD.

We're a progressive nation.

And my cynicism isn't gone, and I'm cautious, but I saw a young man crying from joy out in the quad when the news hit. Whatever else happened or will happen or the whys and wherefores, we're moved by this man. And, in the end, maybe that's enough.

I'd like to thank everyone for their responses to Like Nuclear Physics (Or Pottery Ovens), because (a) I hadn't written in forever and two, it was awesome to see how much everyone liked it. I swear I will thank everyone in the comments soon enough but I am currently swamped with school.

Speaking of school: I am working on my abroad applications and stuff, and I have to write an essay for a plea for money from a fund at my school. They want to know why I want the money and I'll I can think to say is that, hello, I'm a college student, it's a given I'm strapped for cash as it is and unless I feel like working as an illegal (oh, which I am so going to do), what can I do? Give me money because I like food and I have nightmares about muffins that are going to cost me ten dollars and my dignity, okay? Me and my bank account are about to be fucked by the exchange rate. Help me.

That's probably not something they want to read in an essay (even though it's the truth and precious few people tell it like it is these days).

So, while I think horrible, ten dollar muffin-y thoughts, give me some nice, pretty things to say why I need money.

Title: LIKE NUCLEAR PHYSICS (OR POTTERY OVENS)
Author: greatunironic
Written for: explodedpen
Archive: Warp 5; others, just ask
Word Count: 13,500
Summary: In which Trip builds a robot. AU
Note: Of the two requests, I chose “Tucker/Reed friendship, hurt/comfort, humour.” This is pretty well AU from the series, and it got a little dark in places and hilariously, wildly out of control, but I hope, despite that, I did explodedpen proud. * Title from Los Campesinos!’s “Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats.”

Part One / ( Part Two )

You know how, a while back in a 4400 crazed out discussion, I was trying to find pictures of Bill Campbell's abs? I NEED NOT LOOK FURTHER.

( Fabtacular! )

I feel as though many a soda can met its death in that wondrous location.

Now I must get me to bed.