Draupadi Daily

reports from the frontline of the culture war

Fic: Run the World
Fic: Run the World
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittana
Spoilers: Thru 3x06, but that's really all.
Warnings: Santana will cut you. Fair warning.
Summary: After the fiasco of their senior election, Santana definitely wasn't expecting Britt to walk into their dorm room in late January, plop down her My Little Pony backpack and announce, “I want to run for student council.”

Santana put down her copy of The Fingersmith...Collapse )


Whew! It's been a while, but I'm looking to get back into the fic writing groove. And this fic was brought to you by my mild obsession with Brittany's Run the World cover. I don't love most of this last season, but I love that moment.

Canned Ham
Another few weeks have flown by, and now it's almost to the end of July.  I don't remember last summer going by this fast, but then I spent last summer cleaning up after obnoxious tourists and counting pennies, so I suppose that makes sense.  Classes have always made the time fly.

I've finished up and passed in the first part of my thesis, which was hellish while I was dealing with it, and I'm thrilled to be done--I just have to get through the defense tomorrow night, and I can move on.  Le sigh. 

In much better news, however, Mad Men came back!  Hooray!  Casual sexism, racism and anti-semitism!  Woohoo!  Kidding aside, though, it's an amazing show, and I adore following it.  Combined with Project Runway coming back tomorrow night (fortunately after my consultation), I'm looking forward to a very stylish August.  

I've no idea who came up with this, but it's fantastic.

Anyway, books.  I read some.  Not a lot, since I was, you know, trudging through the mines of academia, but I read a couple of them, and I'm well on my way to hitting my end of the year goal (100).  So here they are.

60. Another City, Not My Own, Dominick Dunne
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61. Jack's Widow, Eve Pollard
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Otherwise, these weeks have been quite enjoyable, in between bouts of insane stress, and another nice cookout.  I saw Inception twice, ate a burger that weighed almost a pound, started riding my bike more, and generally unwound once my stuff was handed in (until then, I virtually gave up sleeping, eating and having sensations other than pain in my shoulders).  And now I get to gear up for another term of this.  Skippy!

Next time I update, get ready for a review on The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse (not kidding.  real title.), and maybe some coverage of what has potential to be the best Saturday of all time.  Here's hoping!

Surfing, A Murder, and Some Tragedies. Just Another Day.

The Fourth of July barbecue was a raging success, which reminds me that I really do need to upload those photos, and my pie was spectacular.  Not surprising, but very nice to know.  The past week has been a whirlwind of classes and homework, which I hope will slow down sometime soon, but rather doubt, since it's not much longer now to the end of the term, then the semester, and then the program, so really, I should be cowering under my desk in a panic attack.

I'll be sure to add it to my to-do list.

In addition I've rediscovered a few childhood guilty pleasures, like the joy of toasting Italian bread with the butter already on (yum!), and hot chocolate in the summer, not to mention playing with kittens.  It's been a very nice weekend, only interrupted mildly, when I remember all of the shit I've got to do.  Hmmph.

As I try to work up the requisite level of enthusiasm needed to write ten pages situation and comedy, let's look at the books of this past week, shall we?

57. Caught Inside, Daniel Duane
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58. The Purrfect Murder, Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown
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59. Hecuba, Andromache, The Trojan Women, and Ion, Euripides
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I've also read quite a few magazines in the past few days, but I'm off on a new adventure of Dominick Dunne's Another City, Not My Own, which I'm finding I don't actually like very much yet.  It's just thinly (rice-paper thinly) disguised stories about himself, and a little boastful.  I liked his non-fiction better so far, but we'll see.  As far as magazines go, it seems like Newsweek is trying to fashion itself into a mini-Economist, which is odd, but Time remains constant, as does Entertainment Weekly.  National Geographic has gotten far too pop-y for my tastes, but Vanity Fair continues to astound me with it's quality.  I really might have to subscribe, or at least make someone subscribe for me.

Murder on the...Kentucky Derby?
And so the season slips quickly into July, which is, like almost all other months here in SoCal, sunny and disgustingly pretty.  I've actually taken up wearing shorts, all the better to display my appallingly pasty legs (though I do have to say that the top half of me is getting pretty nicely tanned, a nice after effect of the constant sunshine).  Classes continue to be both a joy and a trial.  A joy in that occasionally I really get to stretch my legs and show what I can do and why I can do it better than everyone else, and a trial, because those moments are few and far between, and it seems I have to wade through the mines of crazy to get there.  No, I do not think my story would be more compelling if I completely changed the entire plot around just to suit your fanciful notion of what you think is enjoyable.  You're insane.  Please go away.

Alas, these are the trials and tribulations of my life.  At least I'm getting a degree out of this.  And on Sunday, a cookout.  For some insane reason my entire class has decided to celebrate the Fourth together.  Now, I can't really complain about this, since I did kind of agree to it, and offer to bake pie, but it's still kind of funny.  We see each other every day, so let's celebrate holidays by seeing each other too?  On the other hand, the alternative was throwing myself on the mercies of everyone else I know, and at least I was actually invited to this one.

Plus, pie.

Seriously, does that not look freaking amazing?  Now if only the pie I made looked that good.  It probably tastes better, but I'm still working on presentation.  Oh well.

Now to the real reason I'm posting:

56. Puss'n Cahoots, Rita Mae Brown & Sneaky Pie Brown
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Now that I've got that all sorted out, I ought to decide what to do tonight (specifically about dinner), since tomorrow morning I have to get up bright and early and bake that pie.  Nothing like early morning baking.  And if I'm very lucky this weekend, I'll get to see Emma's kittens.  I do get Monday off...

Another Day, Another Travel Book
I may have teetered past my longing for long French summers and really amazing food (okay, not far past), but I delved directly back into the well of masochism that is travel writing with a book on Britain and found myself planning another trip in my head that I can in no way shape or form afford.  I really need to get on that "getting a very high paying job with lots of vacation time" thing.  That would be good.  Mmm.  Vacation.  I don't get one of those until...February?  Yeah.  February. 

Shoot me now.

55. Notes from a Small Island, Bill Bryson

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I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to tackle next, but I think I might chase after the murder mysteries waiting for me (library books both, from the same series), and worry about the rest later. 

I've been hit with a strange sort of mid-summer malaise, which I always thought was a product of not being in school at this time, but since I am at school at this time this year (and not really enjoying it much, thanks very much), I think it's just seasonal.  Too much blandly nice weather without any days off, plus a sense that I should be doing something more exciting than reading too many books and crocheting while watching Top Chef--it's a weird mood.  With Doctor Who and Supernatural and Glee all shut down for the season now, I've got to find something else to do.  I guess I could...go hiking?

Go outside?

...We'll see about that.

p.s. I really do mean it about the travel writing masochism; go back and check.  Over the past six months I've read a book on Provence, a book on Britain, a book on traveling around the world, and a book on Venice.  I hate me so hard.  And those are just the non-fiction ones.  I'm not counting the novels that made me curious, like the one set in Thailand, or the one in Rome, etc.  Seriously.  Just kill me now.

The Grass Is Always Greener in Provence
Another gorgeous day in SoCal, but it's rather spoiled by my wishing, not for the first time, that I was elsewhere.  This time, though, instead of the attack being brought on by homesickness or a distinct fondness for rain, it's being caused by a book--the most recent one on the list--that just had to go and make Provence sound divine and peaceful and filled with spectacular food and good cheer, both things that I adore and could do with more of in my daily life.  For example, this gorgeous plum upside down cake, which I intend to really get around to baking, just as soon as I get my hands on some worthy plums, and a cast iron skillet.  Helpful suggestions please comment below.

54. A Year in Provence, Peter Mayle

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I do really enjoy a good book that I can eat lunch with, I have to say.  Much how I enjoy nice lazy days where the insurance adjuster is out of her office, I don't have class until the evening, and my roommates are surprisingly amicable.  Now if only I didn't have this silly homework assignment to deal with, life would be perfect.  But then it would be boring too.

So I'm going to go do that homework, I suppose, but I'm going to daydream about France while I do it, or at the very least, the Pacific Coast Highway and a free weekend.  But first I think I'll inspect the intriguing pile of furniture one of my neighbors seems to have left on the sidewalk. 

Oh, and before I forget, congratulations on the new kittens, Emma!

For Those About to Rock....
We salute you, because I have just been introduced to Pandora, and I love it so, so, so much.  More than is probably healthy, but that's between me and the site, thank you very much.  I've got it geared up to the perfect mix of classic rock and a few curveballs, and aside from its insistence that I must enjoy Godsmack and Cradle of Filth (which I really, really don't), it's just so wonderful.  

Similarly, my weekend has been a peach of fun and games, mostly.  Aside from dodging calls from the insurance agency, I got to go to a lovely book sale (yay! more books!), eat at my favoritest diner in the whole wide world with awesome friends, go to a real live party, and read several very nice books.  Well-rounded, relaxing, and nothing exploded.  A new record!

51. The Lobster Gangs of Maine, James M. Acheson

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52. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett

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53. Fieldwork, Mischa Berlinski

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Well, that's all for now, I'm afraid.  I've got a few more library books kicking around, and of course, it'll be a cold day in hell, or at least a very sad one, when I run out of books to read, but I have no idea which one will be next.  After such a busy weekend, I might take a break and just veg out to the Mythbusters marathon.  Maybe.  But probably not.

What's Your Inner Nerd?
One of my professors has been asking that question a lot lately.  What's your inner nerd?  Obviously my inner nerd and my outer nerd are very closely linked, but I have some hidden depths too, so it's been fun to share.

That aside, it's been a good long time since I updated here, and as such I have a hell of a list to get through.  I've been home, been back in LA, gotten in a minor car accident, watched a friend graduate college, and bought enough new books to necessitate a new bookshelf.  No lie.  

35. Great Waters, Deborah Cramer

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36. Justice, Dominick Dunne

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37. On the Damned Human Race, Mark Twain

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38. Codebreaker's Victory, Hervie Haufler

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39. The Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett

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40. The Professor and the Madman, Simon Winchester

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41. Adverbs, Daniel Handler

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42. The Rhetoric of Empire, David Spurr

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43. Pope Joan, Donna Woolfolk Cross

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44. Dangerous Admissions, Jane O'Connor

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45. The City of Falling Angels, John Berendt

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46. Take the Cannoli, Sarah Vowell

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47. Making Money, Terry Pratchett

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48. Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher

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49. An Abundance of Katherines, John Green

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50. The Automatic Detective, A. Lee Martinez

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And that's it.  I have now read 50 books in the first half of the year (which was my goal), and I am super proud.  There is definitely a good chance now that I might actually make it to 100 by the end of the year.  Woohoo!  And since doing this has taken most of the afternoon, I have to now finish my homework, and head over to a friends for some hardcore Twin Peaks time!

I can't entirely predict the next entry on this list, but I have a hunch it will be The Lobster Gangs of Maine, because it has an amazing title, and I need to read it for school.  But mostly for the title.

one day of sunshine left...
 Of course, I exaggerate.  I'm sure there is sunshine in Massachusetts.  Just less of it, and it's much dimmer and less...peppy.  At any rate, I'm thrilled to be going home, and I can't wait to see the parents, and all my friends, and the ocean (the real one!).  It's going to be fantastic.  Of course, to get there, I have to survive a 5 hour plane ride, and due to weight restrictions and a genuine effort not to have to check a bag, I'm only bringing one book.  That's right.  ONE.  I'm also bringing about seventeen issues of the New Yorker and Time, so I shouldn't run out of things to read, but this isn't going to be the bonanza of book going through time I'd hoped for, sadly.  

Granted, this decision was made with some home truths in mind: I'm going to be packing up a bunch of my books while I'm home, and taking them with me.  So...I only need to stock up for the trip there, and it would be redundant to have too from here coming back here.  And heaven forfend I leave a book behind.  Never!

Before I trot off to my friends' though, for a night of cake, booze, revelry and the season finale of Supernatural (then get roused at an ungodly hour tomorrow morning and shoved into a car to go to the airport), I thought I'd update just a little more of the book list, and get that out of the way, so there might be new books coming along.  Alright?  Alright.

33. The Orchid Thief, Susan Orlean

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34. Flirting with Danger, Siobhan Darrow

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A good pair.  For my passage to the Atlantic, I've chosen, appropriately enough, Great Waters, by Deborah Cramer, which is all about the Atlantic.  I'm thinking of it as a reintroduction course.  I quite look forward to it.

Yesterday I ended my job, which was very sad, because I really loved it, but it had to be done, since next semester starts in only a few weeks, and I'll have even less time to myself then.  Fortunately, my bosses were very understanding, and very nice about the whole thing.  It's always amazing to be told that you are, in fact, just as fabulous as you think you are.  I'm still walking on air a bit from that one.

Well, I should probably toddle off.  I've got to finish my packing, eat lunch, watch a teensy bit more QI, pack up my car, pay my tuition, and go to my friends' to bake a cake and goof off.  Very excited about that last part.

(Last glimpses of the Pacific!)

Awww, dammit
 I used to think that no matter what happened in my life, how educated I got or how much my jobs paid me, I would always be able to decompress by reading my silly little bad fanfics, you know, the ones you know are bad, but can't bother caring about?  Well, scratch that now, because apparently I can't enjoy those anymore.  Thanks to my new spiffy half completed degree, I can actually see where those stories are going wrong, and thoughts like "that's not how you should do exposition" and "that revelation would be far more impactful in several chapters" and "you could have withheld that and created dramatic irony" race through my head when all I really want is to curl up and read about my favorite characters saving the world again and being all sexy while they do it.

I'm of mixed feelings about this.  Because, on the one hand, I really do adore knowing things, and knowing how stories work is just fantastic.  But on the other, it did kind of ruin fanfiction for me.  What's next?  Television?  Heaven forfend.
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