![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bironicI.
My dreams last night involved:
- Being John Sheppard's first kiss. He was canon-age but had never kissed a girl. Possibly on a dare from Ronon, he just walked over and did it -- brief but lovely -- and afterwards, just when I was getting indignant about it, he murmured that he'd wanted to do something he hadn't done before.
- Byron and Shelley -- something near a river in the countryside.
-![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unsymbolic organizing rides home from a conference dinner.
- Being a traumatized and/or dead-turned-ghost Carson Beckett. First I (he) hid under the dining room table when I saw a figure outside the window, even though the person outside could discern the movement. Then I made out a tac vest on the silhouette so I knew it was someone from the team. When I got up and went to the front door I saw that it was Rodney, and I glared at him and wouldn't let him come in; I think it was punishment for something that had happened between us, and I wanted him to know how deeply depressed it had made me.
*shrug* Dream!Sheppard's kiss was kind of nice.
Then I saw a rainbow on the way to work, even though it hasn't rained in days, which (a) made me exclaim "Ooh, a rainbow!" despite being alone in the car, and (b) was ten times better than yesterday morning, when a 3/4" striped spider that had fallen from a tree crouched on the hood of my car for half my commute before scurrying off out of sight, leaving me to wonder whether it would suddenly appear inside the car and make me freak out and cause an accident. Thankfully, it did not.
II.
Attended the semi-regular fangirl brunch on Sunday and had a great time. Between the food (linaerys's onion and fontina tart, moonlash_cc's mushroom omelettes, mimosas, salad, bread, cured meat, fruit, cheese, wine and scrunchy's spicy chocolate cookies) and the company (the above-mentioned, plus pun, krisdia, ahab99, lanthano, barely_bean, a recovering scribblinlenore, and a couple of people whose screen names I haven't yet learned, all of whom I'm getting to know as the "usual crew"), the conversation (skipping from topic to topic, both fannish and other, and this time for the most part I followed even the squee over shows I'm not familiar with that almost everyone else watches/watched) and the screenings (slashy Heroes DVD extras and the Burn Notice pilot), who wouldn't enjoy him/herself? It's really a blessing to have this kind of social outlet and to get to know new people with varied backgrounds and common interests. Like LJ, but in person.
Also, *waves* to new LJ friends!
III.
Work has been deader than House's sense of tact lately. It's normal for the last week of August, when most of our clients (doctors) are off enjoying summer's last hurrah, but Labor Day usually brings everyone back all at once so that we don't know what to do first. Yesterday and today, though, at least for me, have still only delivered a trickle of tasks that I'm able to take care of as soon as I get them, despite having 19 active projects to manage. I've already cleared out my inbox and to-do list, including tasks I'd been putting off, and contacted everyone at least once with requests that they get back to me, and still I sit here metaphorically twiddling my thumbs for hours at a time. It's fine when I've got my own writing to do -- and I have been making some headway on my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
house_bigbang story -- but on days when the mojo just isn't there, such as yesterday afternoon, it brings the restlessness. Even reading fic is more enjoyable when you can read a story or a chapter between assignments.
IV.
Friday at least was saved by an all-day "covers" theme on the radio, during which I was introduced to the glory that is the song "Jolene." Originally by Dolly Parton (1974), it's about one woman begging another, Jolene, not to "take [her] man." On Friday, the station played a cover by The White Stripes (2000), which not only transformed the original earnest plea into a dark and broken cry of despair, but also added a delicious homoerotic layer to the song, since Jack White kept the lyrics as they were rather than changing everyone's genders. Boy begs girl not to steal boy. Truly, few things are hotter than a young man with a desperate tenor and a Gothic face singing, "Well, you could have your choice of men / But I could never love again / He's the only one for me, Jolene."
The full lyrics are:
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him just because you can
Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene
He talks about you in his sleep
And there's nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, Jolene
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can
Well, I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene
Well, you could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He's the only one for me, Jolene
I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Jolene
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can
I haven't been able to find a recording of the 2000 version, which was crisp and clean, so unfortunately I can only offer you the mediocre live 2004 version ("Under Blackpool Lights"), where Jack White's voice is sometimes overwhelmed by the audience as it sings along, and he doesn't hit strong high notes because of his smoking habit, and he does strange and unnecessary things with his voice in places. Still, the emotion is there, and it should give you some idea of the awesomeness that is this cover. Video here or audio-only here.
ETA ETA ETA:thewlisian_afer to the rescue! The 2000 B-side vinyl release for your listening pleasure, right here. The tambourine! The electric guitar finger-picked as though it were acoustic! The minor chords! The slower pace! Seventies folk meets toned-down twenty-first century alternative/punk! Yay! Of course, now I have to get used to it after living with the rawer live recording over the weekend...
This is the Dolly Parton version. It's catchy and her voice is sweet and it's the only song of hers I own.
V.
I'm excited to read the stories that will be cropping up during the next two weeks based on the current theme atsga_flashfic: the Wordless Challenge, or "stories where the characters have to deal with a communication barrier, and there's a lot of different ways to take that on (situations that impose silence, medical conditions like deafness or aphasia, dealing with a literal language barrier, etc.)." It's one of my favorite tropes in fiction (not to mention a fascinating topic in reality as well) -- think Star Trek: TNG's "Darmok," about bridging different cultures by constructing a common language; DS9's "Babel," playing with strings of nonsense language and finding a way to solve a crisis when no-one can understand anyone else; or BtVS's "Hush," about finding ways to communicate without speech, and in which the argument is made that language itself obstructs communication.
SGA offers plenty of possibilities, with the number of civilizations scattered throughout the Pegasus galaxy, the number of countries represented within Atlantis itself, the fact that anyone interfacing with Ancient technology really should have a thorough comprehension of their language, and the alien gadgetry that could trigger all sorts of speech-related crises or shenanigans at any time. I remember one story in which Ronon struggles to express Satedan concepts in English, and another in which the stargate-based universal translator breaks down and Teyla struggles to communicate with the people she has come to view as family, and the McShep Match one where Rodney and John are limited to passing notes back and forth between prison cells. There are some excellent writers over at the Flashfic community; I think (I hope) this is going to be wonderful.
VI.
In "pimp my friends' blogs" news, a wonderfully talented and all-around brilliant college friend of mine has started a blog over at Wordpress, Bardolatry, detailing her experiences as an actor with the American Shakespeare Center, which she joined in June. Though she commenced with the caveat that she may not update frequently, so far there have been several informative and entertaining posts covering topics such as the original staging practices the troupe follows and the advantages and disadvantages of participating in the madness that is "Renaissance Run" rehearsals. I recommend it to anyone who has an interest in Shakespeare (reading, performing or watching), acting, directing, period theater techniques, or windows into the life of someone who is doing something out of the ordinary. If you find yourself as charmed by Ellen's writing as I am, you can subscribe to the LJ feed. And/or perhaps you might catch the ASC if they perform somewhere near you this season.
My dreams last night involved:
- Being John Sheppard's first kiss. He was canon-age but had never kissed a girl. Possibly on a dare from Ronon, he just walked over and did it -- brief but lovely -- and afterwards, just when I was getting indignant about it, he murmured that he'd wanted to do something he hadn't done before.
- Byron and Shelley -- something near a river in the countryside.
-
unsymbolic organizing rides home from a conference dinner.- Being a traumatized and/or dead-turned-ghost Carson Beckett. First I (he) hid under the dining room table when I saw a figure outside the window, even though the person outside could discern the movement. Then I made out a tac vest on the silhouette so I knew it was someone from the team. When I got up and went to the front door I saw that it was Rodney, and I glared at him and wouldn't let him come in; I think it was punishment for something that had happened between us, and I wanted him to know how deeply depressed it had made me.
*shrug* Dream!Sheppard's kiss was kind of nice.
Then I saw a rainbow on the way to work, even though it hasn't rained in days, which (a) made me exclaim "Ooh, a rainbow!" despite being alone in the car, and (b) was ten times better than yesterday morning, when a 3/4" striped spider that had fallen from a tree crouched on the hood of my car for half my commute before scurrying off out of sight, leaving me to wonder whether it would suddenly appear inside the car and make me freak out and cause an accident. Thankfully, it did not.
II.
Attended the semi-regular fangirl brunch on Sunday and had a great time. Between the food (
linaerys's onion and fontina tart, moonlash_cc's mushroom omelettes, mimosas, salad, bread, cured meat, fruit, cheese, wine and scrunchy's spicy chocolate cookies) and the company (the above-mentioned, plus pun, krisdia, ahab99, lanthano, barely_bean, a recovering scribblinlenore, and a couple of people whose screen names I haven't yet learned, all of whom I'm getting to know as the "usual crew"), the conversation (skipping from topic to topic, both fannish and other, and this time for the most part I followed even the squee over shows I'm not familiar with that almost everyone else watches/watched) and the screenings (slashy Heroes DVD extras and the Burn Notice pilot), who wouldn't enjoy him/herself? It's really a blessing to have this kind of social outlet and to get to know new people with varied backgrounds and common interests. Like LJ, but in person.Also, *waves* to new LJ friends!
III.
Work has been deader than House's sense of tact lately. It's normal for the last week of August, when most of our clients (doctors) are off enjoying summer's last hurrah, but Labor Day usually brings everyone back all at once so that we don't know what to do first. Yesterday and today, though, at least for me, have still only delivered a trickle of tasks that I'm able to take care of as soon as I get them, despite having 19 active projects to manage. I've already cleared out my inbox and to-do list, including tasks I'd been putting off, and contacted everyone at least once with requests that they get back to me, and still I sit here metaphorically twiddling my thumbs for hours at a time. It's fine when I've got my own writing to do -- and I have been making some headway on my
house_bigbang story -- but on days when the mojo just isn't there, such as yesterday afternoon, it brings the restlessness. Even reading fic is more enjoyable when you can read a story or a chapter between assignments.IV.
Friday at least was saved by an all-day "covers" theme on the radio, during which I was introduced to the glory that is the song "Jolene." Originally by Dolly Parton (1974), it's about one woman begging another, Jolene, not to "take [her] man." On Friday, the station played a cover by The White Stripes (2000), which not only transformed the original earnest plea into a dark and broken cry of despair, but also added a delicious homoerotic layer to the song, since Jack White kept the lyrics as they were rather than changing everyone's genders. Boy begs girl not to steal boy. Truly, few things are hotter than a young man with a desperate tenor and a Gothic face singing, "Well, you could have your choice of men / But I could never love again / He's the only one for me, Jolene."
The full lyrics are:
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him just because you can
Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene
He talks about you in his sleep
And there's nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, Jolene
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can
Well, I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene
Well, you could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He's the only one for me, Jolene
I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Jolene
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you, please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can
I haven't been able to find a recording of the 2000 version, which was crisp and clean, so unfortunately I can only offer you the mediocre live 2004 version ("Under Blackpool Lights"), where Jack White's voice is sometimes overwhelmed by the audience as it sings along, and he doesn't hit strong high notes because of his smoking habit, and he does strange and unnecessary things with his voice in places. Still, the emotion is there, and it should give you some idea of the awesomeness that is this cover. Video here or audio-only here.
ETA ETA ETA:
thewlisian_afer to the rescue! The 2000 B-side vinyl release for your listening pleasure, right here. The tambourine! The electric guitar finger-picked as though it were acoustic! The minor chords! The slower pace! Seventies folk meets toned-down twenty-first century alternative/punk! Yay! Of course, now I have to get used to it after living with the rawer live recording over the weekend... This is the Dolly Parton version. It's catchy and her voice is sweet and it's the only song of hers I own.
V.
I'm excited to read the stories that will be cropping up during the next two weeks based on the current theme at
sga_flashfic: the Wordless Challenge, or "stories where the characters have to deal with a communication barrier, and there's a lot of different ways to take that on (situations that impose silence, medical conditions like deafness or aphasia, dealing with a literal language barrier, etc.)." It's one of my favorite tropes in fiction (not to mention a fascinating topic in reality as well) -- think Star Trek: TNG's "Darmok," about bridging different cultures by constructing a common language; DS9's "Babel," playing with strings of nonsense language and finding a way to solve a crisis when no-one can understand anyone else; or BtVS's "Hush," about finding ways to communicate without speech, and in which the argument is made that language itself obstructs communication. SGA offers plenty of possibilities, with the number of civilizations scattered throughout the Pegasus galaxy, the number of countries represented within Atlantis itself, the fact that anyone interfacing with Ancient technology really should have a thorough comprehension of their language, and the alien gadgetry that could trigger all sorts of speech-related crises or shenanigans at any time. I remember one story in which Ronon struggles to express Satedan concepts in English, and another in which the stargate-based universal translator breaks down and Teyla struggles to communicate with the people she has come to view as family, and the McShep Match one where Rodney and John are limited to passing notes back and forth between prison cells. There are some excellent writers over at the Flashfic community; I think (I hope) this is going to be wonderful.
VI.
In "pimp my friends' blogs" news, a wonderfully talented and all-around brilliant college friend of mine has started a blog over at Wordpress, Bardolatry, detailing her experiences as an actor with the American Shakespeare Center, which she joined in June. Though she commenced with the caveat that she may not update frequently, so far there have been several informative and entertaining posts covering topics such as the original staging practices the troupe follows and the advantages and disadvantages of participating in the madness that is "Renaissance Run" rehearsals. I recommend it to anyone who has an interest in Shakespeare (reading, performing or watching), acting, directing, period theater techniques, or windows into the life of someone who is doing something out of the ordinary. If you find yourself as charmed by Ellen's writing as I am, you can subscribe to the LJ feed. And/or perhaps you might catch the ASC if they perform somewhere near you this season.
no subject
Date: Sep. 5th, 2007 08:29 pm (UTC)