February 23rd, 2004


State of the Pod address

Another weekend with the Pod seems to have slipped into the time vortex where things fly by so ridiculously fast that around this time on Sunday night you find yourself sitting there thinking, "Wha...how? But...it was just Friday!"

This may be because of all the Angel I forced Lyra to watch. Egregious amounts of Angel, my friends, and God, she loved every second of it. Or, at least I did -- I may be projecting. Saturday we hung out with Tstar78, and decided that what the Justice League really needs is a whole hell of a lot of milkshakes, and possibly help filing. But mostly milkshakes. Lyra has caught me up on SV, and y'all? If I loved my show anymore than I currently love my show, I'd be, like, having it's kryptobabies. Or something. Saw Big Fish, loved that. And lots of fun hanging out, squealing, and just bein' with my girl, which -- you know -- always with the fun. And between the two of us, I think we smoked so much that the firemen at the station across the street have been worried about the BILLOWING CLOUDS OF CIGARETTE SMOKE ISSUEING FROM OUR ROOM. *coughs*

Additionally, I got a goodie! Caro -- you know how you always wanted to know what a Niflet looks like? *grins and points to icon while squealing*
  • Current Music
    LA Confidential on TNT (Also? Write me Jack Vincennes fic. You know you want to.)

On starting a story. (Or an orange.)

You have an idea. You can feel the shape of it in your hands, the texture of it. You know what it will be like once you get to it -- once you get through the skin, and into the heart of it. You know what the sections of it will be shaped like, and how they'll feel in the palm of your hand. Of course, things are never exactly as you imagine -- they may be bigger, or smaller, or perhaps there will be extra sections hidden once you start pulling it apart. It may turn out to be a little bit sweeter than you thought, originally..but then again it may be more bitter, also. You can't know for certain. But you have the general idea of how things will look, how they'll taste once you have the whole thing together, exposed to the air so that you can finally dissect it, and inspect every inch of it.

The trouble is, that there's this thick skin surrounding your idea; a waxy, orange covering that's seemingly impervious. It's tough against your fingers, and you can't bite straight into it; that would be too much, it would make you sick. Your finger tips scrabble across the surface, trying to feel for a vulnerable point, trying to find a *way in*.

Sometimes it's easy and there's a small green peice at the top, or something that's loose. You pick at it for a second, as though it were a scab, until it comes loose and you're *in*. Often, though, you have to use a tool, or perhaps just the tip of your nail, plunging it in through the surface as though it were the tip of your claw -- *creating* an opening. That can hurt, from time to time, because that's not what your nail is meant to do, and the pressure is hard on the sensitive skin beneath it. But that doesn't matter because the pain is momentary and the sharp tang of citrus is in the air and you're peeling away all that stands between you and what you've working toward, the whole round orange globe, fitted into your hand.

Waiting for what you will do with it. That's the easy part, once you've begun -- doing what you've planned, finding your way through your idea and learning the true shapes of the pieces of it. What's hard is finding that soft spot, where it's vulnerable. Where you can cut your way into it.
  • Current Music
    Hot Hot Heat - Aveda