(no subject)

*attempts to recall all the various things she's wanted to post over the past day or two*

Reread the first two books of His Dark Materials today. (Was gallery-sitting, so had plenty of time to do so.) Then hung with telepwen. Squee!

I am continuing to channel Tom having kinky sex with Alastor Moody while on public transit. Meep. I should start listing the MBTA commuter rail in my credits or something.

I love McTabby.

Current fic status listings, because I feel like it:
Lexicon of Serpents: Turning into a smut-fest. If I can focus, I will finish the second chapter tomorrow or somesuch and send it off to be betaed.
Charman's Riddle: On hold.
Lime, So Sayeth Death, and Slither: Off to TDA; waiting for upload.
Sidhe & Nails & Sugar Cube Trails (a.k.a. Dumbledore/Ollivander/Longbottom): Waiting for inspiration in no particular hurry.
Within These Pages & sequels: On hold; too busy with another pairing's worth of kinky smut.
Revision of White Masks and dealing with microbunnies: On hold. No energy.

Discovered while gallery-sitting that hearing the soundtrack of the same 8-minute film (it's a media installation) repeated over and over for five hours does not, in fact, drive me insane. Am well-suited to this job, except for the occassional pacing about the gallery and muttering to myself. Got lost in consideration of HP characters in the first His Dark Materials universe--i.e., with daemons. Decided that Animagi have a daemon while in human form--i.e., McGonagall would have the tabbycat daemon--and, when they transform, their human form sortof pours into their daemon and they become all animal. Pointlessness.

Er? Brain? Why did telepwen's departure abruptly leave you dead?

There'll probably be a chapter of LoS entitled "Ropes."

I hope my brain will be alive tomorrow. *pokes it* I know I wanted to say more than that...