it's 4:07 am, on May 28, 2002 - aoidos.

~

I was reading this journal, just now, and they were talking about finding stories in the personal ads. It was sublime; just the kind of thing I look for in a journal. Snark, humor and yet, also that swelling. So I start to read back entries, and I click on ones from September. Because that's going to be my litmus test, as far as journal entries go; I'm not going to read anyone, anymore, who says something that makes me feel sick to my stomach.

So yeah. Won't be adding him. But it was a good thing to learn.

*

Elsewhere, Kitty described in great detail the plans we have for writing Remy mpreg fic. Because all good cliches need dusting once and a while. And I mentioned cliche'ed fic to Kael, having just finished half of an "evil alien virus makes Lance have to have sex RIGHT NOW OR DIE" scenario, a la Star Trek slash of the seventies.

So yeah, and then we started talking about mpreg stories again because they are the bane of the fic world and yet, and yet. I am oddly fascinated.

thissugarcane: I love cliches.
thissugarcane: like, one day I'm writing a serious mpreg story.
KLWilfrey: Who are you wanting to be preggers?
thissugarcane: I don't know.
thissugarcane: I'm considering Remy.
thissugarcane: Just because Kitty and I found this other Remy mpreg online once.
thissugarcane: Remy or Justin.
KLWilfrey: *choke*
thissugarcane: Because Justin would have the most difficult pregnancy ever. He's all skinny and not built for it.
KLWilfrey: Literally. I had milk. Now my computer has milk.
thissugarcane: *laughs out loud!*
thissugarcane: Both Remy and Justin would have the same kind of thing going on.
KLWilfrey: There was a bite of cookie involved, too. Now it's all bad.
KLWilfrey: Yeah - you mean, the not being built for it thing?
thissugarcane: Like, Remy would be all, "but this is how I've ALWAYS lived my life!" and hank would be all, clucking his tongue and saying, "But you can't push yourself like this anymore, Gambit. You're living for two."
thissugarcane: And, yeah.
KLWilfrey: Oh god. *image of pregnant Remy trying to bar-crawl*
thissugarcane: And Justin would be trying to dance six hours a day and sing four hours a day and party at least two, and he'd just get really stressed out and people would be all "you're pushing yourself too hard! it's not good for the baby!" and he'd get all grouchy and snap at people. And then they'd cluck their tongues and go "hormonal, too".
KLWilfrey: *laugh!*
KLWilfrey: Whose babies?
thissugarcane: I think Justin's would be Chris's.
thissugarcane: And remy's would be. I don't know.
thissugarcane: Maybe it's a mystery. ;)
thissugarcane: rogue would shit a brick.
KLWilfrey: I mean, and with either of them - 'whoever your partner was four weeks ago' 'uhm. Can you be more specific? Give me a day?'
thissugarcane: *nod!*
KLWilfrey: *snicker* Which would be half the fun...
thissugarcane: And secretly they'd like, sing to their bellies and Bobby and Joey would catch them and cackle for days about it.
thissugarcane: --I've thought about this way too much, haven't I?
KLWilfrey: *LAUGH!!!*
KLWilfrey: I love it! Oh, man, the whole macho-thing meets the nurturing-instinct thing. They'd be toast.
thissugarcane: Like, Bobby: "He's SINGING!" And Remy: "Sh'up. It could be yours, mon ami." And Bobby would sniff. "Please. I'd never get anyone pregnant."
KLWilfrey: Oh! Hey, Justin's rich. Looking for a specialist, finds some guy out in New York who's dealt with the same thing, and he flies out, and pregRemy's there, and they stare, and Hank's 'You two know each other?' and their like, 'This club. Last month. Nooooo.' Which is so lame, but I'm making my own fun here. :p
thissugarcane: And their doctor would be like, "the timing's off" and they'd both sigh in relief.
thissugarcane: So then they'd go "what?" and Remy would say "I don't wanna have to explain a pop star parent to my kid" as Justin goes "I don't want my baby speaking French".
KLWilfrey: *laugh!* And then 'Remy's is further along' and then Hank hmms and goes 'Mutant biology...'
KLWilfrey: *laugh!* 'And what's wrong with speaking French?' Maybe from Justin's doctor. ;]
thissugarcane: *nod*
thissugarcane: And then Justin would blush, because HE can't speak french and Chris would snort, and say so.
KLWilfrey: As in, his doctor was French, too, and again with lame, and again I need less caffeine.
KLWilfrey: *grin*
KLWilfrey: And Bobby trying to sing to Remy's belly, and then them looking at each other and just - too weird. Yeah.
thissugarcane: LOL!
thissugarcane: yes.
thissugarcane: and Bobby wanting to adopt the baby!

*

Anyway. That was preserved for posterity, because who wants to lose their mpreg fic plotting. And then we got to talking and I found a perfect person to explain my theory of how I should have been greek. Which starts about nothing like greeks, but ends there. Kind of.

See, there's this interview site where they ask people questions, and one of them is "swooper or basher". And between those two, I'm a swooper, totally, but I don't really edit much, so.

Anyway, I like this metaphor better: You're either a Brad Pitt , or an Ed Norton.

Because like, in the DVD commentary to Fight Club, Brad's talking about his acting style -- how sometimes he's a hit and sometimes he's a miss. Because he approaches acting really, kind of improv-y. like, he doesn't have too much of an idea what he wants to do or how he wants to make a scene appear until he does it. But Ed Norton, you can tell thinks about how he acts, what he's portraying.

And, I'm a Brad Pitt writer. Because when he's got a hit, for a scene, there's almost no one better. But when he misses, he's not so hot. And Ed Norton is better than Brad, but I think, less spontaneous. So. Yes.

This goes back to my theory of how I should have been Greek in that, there were travelling poets in Greek times, who composed poems on the spot. And like, I can do that. That's what I do. I can't do improv theater, but I can write on the spot. I could be an internet aoidos. So yes. I should have been Greek.

~

The current mood of lisewilliams@geocities.com at www.imood.com

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