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Narratives that revolve around fathers and sons. Eru Illuvatar above, am I ever sick of them. Because a.) Of course the child is male, why would we even question that ever, and b.) Half the time the mother of a child never even gets a name, let alone is allowed to, oh, have any kind of influence or pull over the child she goshdarn did *at least* half the work of raising. Lineage Comes From The Father as a trope is probably older than dirt, and I am bloody well sick of it. Howard Stark may have been a terrible father, but gee, what kind of mother was Maria? I don't know, because the narrative doesn't think it's important enough to tell me! Did Frigga ever show preference for one son over the other? Who knows? Thor and Loki only care about Odin's approval, because he's the one with actual power in this household, clearly! (God, Asgard, why you gotta be so awful.) Henry Plantagenet! Is his mother around? She's dead, right? We think so, because she sure as heck never even gets mentioned! Nate Ford had a mother, right? I think there was a line about her somewhere. But she obviously didn't have the chance to affect the formation of his character-- nope, that was 100% down to his dad. Luke's aunt and uncle must have known his mother, surely? Did anyone ever worry about or take reassurance in the presence of her genetics in Luke's blood? Did Luke ever ask to know what had happened to her? Eh, whatever, who cares!

Also, you ever notice how when a child in fiction is raised by a single mother, they spend their whole lives searching for a Strong Man to act as their father figure, but when they're raised by a single father, the only time you see them looking for a maternal figure is when they're young children trying to set their dad up with a nice lady because they want him to be happy, and the fact that she'd become a mother to them is weirdly secondary to that? Because moms are just that unimportant?

I don't even know why this bothers me so much, of all the things that could bother me, and I adored the latest Leverage episode (so many Eliot/Parker/Hardison feeeeeeels), but all that stuff about fathers and sons and just-- ugh. I'm so done with that. SO DONE. No more patience for the males in a family being the only ones who matter.

Now excuse me, I have to go give all of my money to Brave.

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^ that is the best representation I can make of the sound I am making right now. It is a whining sound of a pitch that only dogs can hear.


****** ****. Leverage, you own me. You own me like I am not sure anything ever, ever has. You are so effing perfect, I am not sure what to do.

Seriously, you guys, every scene, every scene of the last two episodes has been a masterpiece. This show is my favorite. thing. EVER.

Seriously? you guys? This show is everything, absolutely everything, I could ever wish for. Everything I want? It gives me, and then a few things more, just for kicks. I need to write them a letter, somehow, and go YOU ARE AWESOME INCARNATE, OKAY, SERIOUSLY.


Off to run. Like I didn't last night.

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Leverage continues to consistantly exceed my highest. Seriously, seriously, there is no better show ever and it is just. so. perfect.

Man, finally, a show I can get involved in every time without fear. Because every other show I'm watching, every new episode, I go into afraid: afraid that the creators will do something that will just ruin everything, whether by thoughtlessness or deliberate malice. Leverage? man, I would let Leverage get out the handcuffs. Leverage I can trust.

I find that I like Tara. Unreservedly. I just *like* her. She's friendly, professional, competent, gorgeous, direct, intelligent, and caring without being condescending. She doesn't take crap from anyone, but neither is she ungentle. She's there to do her job and she does it and she looks out for her teammates because that helps the entire operation go more smoothly. I like Sophie- I know there are those who don't, but I like Sophie a lot- and when Seven showed up I bristled as much as any of the team!kids. But they warmed to her, and so did I. and also I melt like a melty thing every time she smiles. I spent too long watching her do the Borg thing to ever not melt when she smiles like that, oh, she has such a beautiful smile.

Spoilers )

I would squee over everyone else, but I will just say:


Separately, I love each of them SOOOOO MUCH. and then they are the *best* ot3 and I love them EVEN MORE.

(I like Nate just fine. I know he really bugs Eyal, but I am totally okay with Nate. He just doesn't bring the squeelove like the others, that's all. I like him and I appreciate his role in the show.)

I could just sit here and squee over every single moment of that episode. It was darling. I cannot wait for more, it's going to be SO EFFING COOL.

When's it coming back?

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So... Sunday's Susannah decided that she's going to be consenting too. I am slightly nonplussed, because all of a sudden Sunday's Blitch is not quite as evul and their scene is once again disturbingly not-disturbing. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO THINK.

I don't think Eema really understood what I meant when I tried to explain why Susannah would be willing, and I suppose I wasn't explaining very well, but "oh, come on, haven't you ever felt so lonely and isolated that you threw yourself at the first person who smiled at you, no matter how bad an idea it was, just to feel wanted? Because I have" is not a conversation I particularly want to have with my Eema.

Sam singing Jaybird- especially Saturday/Sunday Sam- never fails to make me happy. Friday Sam too. I totally understand Susannah on this count.

David conducted us today. He'd never rehearsed with us, which I was a bit wary about, because you do *not* want the first time you play with a conductor to be in the performance, but it went fine. I like David. If the conductor is the king, then the student conductors are the princes. It's right enough. Ah speaking of kings- Gregorian passed by me in the hallway afterwards, and clasped my hand to say good job. Hurrah, yay. And also I asked Blitch (Friday/Sunday Blitch) what all that business with the passing cup was (O Lord if it be thy will let this cup pass from me), but he couldn't explain it either. *shrugs* New Testament stuff. No idea.

Saturday Blitch was helping out the stagehands during intermission- walking back and forth over the stage carrying things. Then the inner curtain came down, blocking our view of him, and me and Catherine spontaneously cried out "nooooooo!" in near-perfect unison. Still have not actually spoken to him, but he did at one point lounge on the stage steps with his shirt open. His name is Brad.

The Chief Elder's Wife confirmed for me that, yes, the Chief Elder's name is indeed Bat. His son is called Little Bat to distinguish him from his father. BAT. HONESTLY. No wonder he's evil. I'd be evil too.

I have the entire opera stuck in my head. It is no simple thing, to have an entire two-hour opera stuck in one's head! Granted, two hours is perhaps quite short for an opera, but not, I insist, for an earworm.

Have caught up on Glee, and also White Collar. I do not think I can truly convey how much win White Collar is made of, and like many other shows, it's not the show itself that's winful. Because it is a pretty flawed show, really, but it is so much more than the sum of its parts.

By which I mean, yes, Neal/Peter/Elizabeth is one of the most beautiful wonderful ot3s I've ever encountered.

(It is as I have always said: CRIMINALS CANNOT BE CONFINED TO PAIRINGS. Threesomes or nothing! Or possibly moresomes! Eliot/Parker/Hardison, Neal/Peter/Elizabeth, Butch/Sundance/Etta, Joe/Terry/Kate from Bandits, Ocean/Rusty/Tess, etc. etc.)

In Which Leora Bitches About Glee )

Augh flail, I am reading delicious delicious Star Trek AU fanfic (Detective!Spock ahaha you know you want it) and must complete my work in twenty minutes or die. Or, you know, spend the night here flail.

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Hardison, Parker, and Eliot )
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The first sentence is pretty easy to parse: "you threw/sent me straight into the hands of Eliot Spencer." But then, she says something less easy to understand, and after listening to it about a billion times, I think it's either "kosher to your MOM," or else "go call your mama" or else "I'm going to contact your mother," or else, um, something incredibly vulgar about his Eema. But Noa Tishby talks really fast and doesn't enunciate very much. Eliot's pronounciation is fairly atrocious, but he is saying real words, and the subtitles are all accurate.

Collage concert went well. Heard some lovely performances, as always. Now I get, like, almost three weeks without a concert! Wooo! Time to chill.

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I like making coffee, I can pretend I am temping as the teaboy while Ianto and Jack go off on vacation and Tosh, Owen, Gwen and possibly Martha and John Hart or whoever keep an eye on alien activity. Also, I am good at it and it always comes out very tasty, at least by my admittedly not-very-exacting standards. So I made coffee and poured it into my pretty tall white mug, stirred it with my Canadian long spoon, and sat down to drink it. Then I went to orchestra, and work, and spent all afternoon and evening wondering why I was exhausted- shouldn't I be bouncing off walls?

Then when I got home that night I realized that my coffee was still sitting there on the table, and I had perhaps gone through all the motions but I had never actually drunk it. So I put it in the fridge for the night and drank it this morning, and lo, it was still very tasty.

Second quartet rehearsal was today, and it went much better in that I figured out what an eighth note was, so I mostly did not get lost. I tried to get them all to come out to dinner with me, because quartets really do play better together when they have a relationship as a group outside of rehearsal, but Nate was busy and Eli was reluctantly busy and then I realized I didn't have a car, because I overslept this morning and missed half of Symphony so I hid in the basement of the music practice building and watched Eliot and Parker get chased by police until wind-changing-break and then snuck into rehearsal for the Rachmaninoff. Which is lovely, btw, as always, even though the pianist (some professor or other) takes it hella slow at a more stately pace than I am accustomed to.

So I went to the office to meet Eema, and now am being told to go call people (Mrs. Smith/Paul) and get various meetings sorted out.

Philharmonic concert is tomorrow, oh dear Eru Illuvatar above, how did that happen?

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You know, whatever I may say to save face, I've never actually objected to country music.

...I think someone needs to take away my classical violinist license now.

But Janine would always play it in my horseback riding lessons, and Jackie my roommate would play it a lot too, and there are just good songs that are expressive or catchy or poignant or fun. I don't mean the ones that go "my dog is daid and my woman left me and my truck, she done broke down", but...

It may have started with reboot!Bones, but Eliot and Christian Kane are kind of making me develop a weakness for drawls, which until now was the pretty much the only accent that I had no weakness for. Man, come on, the last thing I need is another accent!weakness.

Ahahaha, TLAPD was rockin' awesome. I related the tale of my adventures to Paul, upon which he exclaimed in horror "so you just wandered around East Lansing, dressed like a pirate, accosting people in the street and talking like a pirate at them?" And, well, yes. Of course. What do you mean it's not awesome? Look, I'm a PIRATE. Pirates accost. We front, we board, we woo. WE ASSAIL.

We have nasty blisters on our feet from walking like Johnny Depp for three hours in heeled boots. And a sore throat and a hoarse voice from talking in a growling scream all day long. Also sunburn like whoa from going out in the daylight without a black umbrella. On the other hand, black raccoon eyeshadow (it was actually an eyebrow pencil, sue me) is unexpectedly effective at reducing glare. Look, I'm pale as someone of my unrelentingly pink complexion can be, I have my eye on a black lace parasol and matching fan anyway, I just need some proper eye makeup and I can totally go goth and look like an established branch of crazy, not just weird random crazy with the pale and the pocketwatch and the fedora and the black B&N book-quote umbrella that someone left in the office.

Mmmm I need sleep. There is no way I'm waking up in two hours to drive an hour to Holly.

Trying to explain pirates to my parents went about as well as trying to explain ninjas to my grandmother. Dude, they're cool, just take my word for it.


Sep. 17th, 2009 09:55 pm
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Oh god, I just compared Eliot, Hardison, and Parker to Charlie Horse, Hush Puppy, and Lamb Chop.


On the other hand, The Lost Heir Job is FINALLY up on Netflix. spoiler )

Home to eat pie. Aba's birthday.

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a.) I cannot squee enough over Leverage to convey its goodness.
b.) sometimes I act like an idiot and later berate myself for it a lot. And by sometimes I mean "pretty much at least once a day."
c.) Hugh Cochran continues to dress with the best sense of style in the world.
d.) Vikram is my stand partner in Symphony! It is a marvellous thing.
e.) R&J IS FRIGGIN' HARD YO. On the other hand, breezing through Tybalt's Death is pretty much the best feeling in the world.
f.) I need new headphones. Mine are falling apart, which sucks because I really like this pair. I looked for a set like them at Meijers last time I was there and they didn't have any, but I will check again when it is not three in the morning.
g.) I get paid on Thursday. I have plenty of groceries, I paid my rent, I paid for lessons, I still have a quarter tank of gas, and the utilities bill is not due until after Thursday. It's just darned annoying to know that I cannot buy anything, not even a cup of coffee, until then. And I really should drive as little as possible. Oh well, it's good for me.
h.) Parker/Eliot/Hardison. Also Nate/Sophie. I'm terribly afraid that the writers will try to give Eliot a love interest, because they may be somehow under the delusion that he is not taken. Possibly Seven of Nine. (Holy crap- Data, Wesley, Quark, Riker, and Seven? What kind of favors is Hardison doing for the casting director?)
i.) Philharmonic is going to kill me a little. Augh solos. Augh, Jimenez has perfect pitch and I... don't. ):
j.) I have a quartet! Or at least, I have a violinist, a violist, and a cellist who have agreed to meet me after rehearsal on Wednesday evenings, and a couple of scores to learn with them. I'm hopeful. It would be better, though, if we could get ourselves a coach, because I'm never very good at, like, self-guided learning, and Nyssa isn't exactly a reined-in sort of gal.
k.) I made salsa-tuna-cheese quesadillas tonight, and lit candles and everything. I like Friday nights. Man, I'm such a pyro.
l.) I have the next disc of Life on Mars. I'm a bit reluctant to watch it. I keep clinging to Leverage and its cheerfulness and its happy endings and its feel-good themes, with its band of merry do-gooders and its unconventional family and its relative lack of angst. YOU SEE WHAT TORCHWOOD HAS DONE TO ME. Eh, not TW's fault, I know I know. I'm always like this. I like happy endings. I just do. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.
n.) I ought to just go to sleep. I work at 2:30 tomorrow and it'll be nasty, because of the stupid football game.
o.) I hate football.
q.) I just like the letter Q, okay.
r.) brought to you by the number twelve!
s.) okay I need to stop now.



Sep. 3rd, 2009 03:01 am
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So I'm concertmaster of Phil and waywayway in the back in Symphony. I am completely and utterly content with this state of affairs. 'm listening to R-K's Capriccia Espanol and looking forward to playing this like you wouldn't believe. (God, if I'm 1st chair then? !!!!!!!!! I'm trying not to get my hopes up, I really am, but awwwwww maaaaaaannn.

Am taking Eema through Leverage. Mmmm Leverage. Tonight we saw The Snow Job & The Mile High Job. Also tonight we caught a few minutes of Lara Croft before Aba got bored and went to bed, but there was Lara Croft/James Bond, and also, Edwin Myrdden with long hair and he was gorgeous and lovely, and settled the question of whether I would still find him hot without the disfiguring scars. I ought to watch it some time; I find that I like straight-up action flicks more than I used to, and who doesn't like Angelina Jolie? Esp. with a British accent?

Philharmonic orchestra tomorrow. Excited. A bit nervous. A bit just hating that I have to wake up earlier in the mornings.

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So once in a while I find something that exists and I'm all like, there is no way the creator(s) of this did not custom-make this for me. I mean, this is perfectly tailor-made for my exact tastes. That cannot be random coincidence. Am I mad? Am I in a coma? Or am I back in time just really easily pleased?


So Sharpe, right, I realize none of you care for it much but BOROMIR, IN THE NAPOLEONIC WARS, WITH A KICKASS WIFE. And let's not forget the rest of the Chosen Men, because they're winful. Or Lord Wellington, on whom I am fast developing mad historical crushes. (Have I mentioned how much I love Sharpe/Teresa lately? Because guys, it's a period action flick. You don't get good female characters, much less good romances, in period action flicks. But Teresa! And Sharpe/Teresa! It is very very good.)

A quick summary of the movies:

Sharpe's Rifles: Sharpe meets the Chosen Men by waking up Harper, who promptly attacks him. They roll around on the stable floor until some superior officers wander in and go WTF SHARPE YOU CAN'T DO THAT YOU'RE AN OFFICER NOW REMEMBER.

So Sharpe waits until they're gone. And then he and Harper resume their scuffle on the floor of a different stable. Then Teresa walks in and goes, So, I'm an experienced leader of soldiers. You really shouldn't do that, now that you're an officer and all.

So Sharpe ties up Harper's hands and wrestles with him in a river.

Sharpe's Eagle: The very first thing we see is Harper in Sharpe's tent, nursing his wounds, shaving him, dressing him, and singing him lullabies. Then we meet the South Essex. The South Essex are flogged soldiers, completely green troops, and led by an idiot. Sharpe takes them out for some basic training.

The men are no good at shooting. So Sharpe tells them all to strip to their shirts, and they do, and they're still apparently not good enough so Sharpe takes off his own shirt and struts up and down in front of them bare-chested and then they are inspired and perform amazing feats of gunnery. And then one of them takes the opportunity to swoon into Sharpe's arms.

We also meet Colonel Lawford, who offers himself as comfort in place of Sharpe's lover Teresa, who has gone off spyhatting. YOU THINK I'M MAKING THIS UP, YOU GUYS.

Oh yeah, and Lieutenant Billings is hopelessly in love with James Bond, who thinks that Billings is in love with the Countess, and so tries to get her for Billings, but is stopped by Sharpe, who- naturally- rolls around with him on the ground. And actually gets beaten up, because it's Bond, James Bond, you guys, and it's all very tragic, and goes like this:

James Bond: Fancy a fumble, old boy?
Billings: *hopes very hard that he just heard what he thought he heard*
James Bond: *indicates nearby wenches*
Billings: *tear*
James Bond: Well, you might as well have the maids, since you can't have the mistress.
Billings: *makes cow eyes at James Bond over cards*
James Bond: *wins at cards* You want a woman, old boy.
Billings: Do I?
James Bond: Plenty of fish in the sea, old boy.
Billings: *meaningful look* You know what I want.
James Bond: The Countess, of course.
Billings: *tear*
James Bond: *wins at cards*
Billings: I'm unlucky. Unlucky in cards. *meaningful look* Unlucky in love.
James Bond: You know what? I'll go get her for you.
Billings: Wait, no, that's not-
Teresa: Your fellow officer is harassing the Countess. Go stop him.
Sharpe: *tries*
Sharpe: *gets beaten up by James Bond*
Superior Officers: *walk in on Sharpe and Bond rolling around* GOD, SHARPE, WE CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE, CAN WE.
Sharpe: *is ded of Bond*
James Bond: RAR.
Sharpe: *stands in front of Countess*
Sharpe: *sways on feet*
Teresa: *stands in front of Countess in case Sharpe falls over*
James Bond: So you can pay the debts she owes her servants?
Sharpe: ...
American Southern Gentleman: *hands Sharpe the money, v. surreptitiously, in front of everyone*
Sharpe: ...
Sharpe: ...
Sharpe: *pays*
Countess: Oh, thank you, Richard Sharpe.
Sharpe: *now owes Southern Gentlemen more money than he'll ever see in his life*
Sharpe: *wanders off to sulk*
Countess: Oh, Commandante Teresa, you're so lucky to have him.
Teresa: *shrugs* Eh. He is lucky to have me.

Guys, you would not believe how much of that was quoted verbatim.

Sharpe's Company: There is a battle, but we pretty much immediately cut to Sharpe shirtless. A tiny adorable Sweet Polly Oliver shows up and is immediately taken with Sharpe and starts following him everywhere, when Pete Postelthwaite shows up. Sharpe slams him into a wall and sends him on his way.

Pete Postelthwaite finds Teresa and attacks her, because he's been creepily stalking Sharpe and trying to kill his lovers ever since India. Teresa, of course, hands him his arse and is considering just slitting his throat and having done when Harper enters, and then Sharpe. Sharpe snarls a lot and then (actually pretty unwisely) decides to opt out of cold-blooded murder. So Pete Postelthwaite insults Harper, who attacks him, and then Sharpe jumps into the dogpile, and they all three roll around on the stable floor and then in the streets until some superior officers happen along and go GOD SHARPE NOT AGAIN SERIOUSLY THIS IS GETTING OUT OF HAND.

And lo, the Sweet Polly Oliver follows Sharpe doggedly around for the rest of the movie.

Sharpe's Enemy: I only started rewatching this one, guys, but it definitely opens with Sharpe and all five Chosen Men shirtless and playing informal rugby and tackling each other and the superior officers walk up just as Sharpe is shirtlessly dogpiled by all of his shirtless men. And they just roll their eyes and go yeah, must be Tuesday.

(Seriously, guys, how is there not a bigger fandom for this sort of thing?)

Started watching Life on Mars with Eema. I'm- as much as I like it, I'm leery of this show. I know shows like this. Shows like this do not hold back. They do not show mercy. I am very firm with myself here- I will not get too involved with you, Life on Mars. We can just keep this casual, right? We can just keep the emotions out of it, okay, because I have been hurt too many times in the past by shows like you. But I just can't stay away like I know I should, because you are really good.

Hey Torchwood? I think it's best that we spend some time apart right now. I think we can work it out, I do, I'm willing to make that effort if you are. I just need some time.

Oh right, but I started this because I wanted to talk about Leverage, because guys guys guyyyyyys, it is JUST FOR ME. It is every episode a heist flick (I love heist flicks!) for some Robin Hood-esque mission (I love Robin Hood!) with five awesome characters (TEAM!), two of which have lots of fun sparky chemistry (Nate/Sophie otp!) and are also kind of Team Parents, you know how it goes, and the other three of which are all together and shiny (Eliot/Parker/Hardisan OT3 OF AWESOME) and also, Badger (BADGER!) is quite possibly Nate's bitter ex, but in any case he's Nate's evil equivalent (Evil Mastermind Badger!) and there are HEISTS.

I was looking for music videos and I noticed that when you are just watching clips without sound, seriously you guys this entire show looks like a gag reel.

I love it.

Also, I've ordered The Fall off Netflix. Yes, I know.

When I read Wyrd Sisters for the first time, I was obsessed with Macbeth and I was all, OMG, this book is so good!

Then I re-read it after I read Hamlet too, and was all OMG, this book is even better than I thought!

And then I just re-read it now, being presently obsessed with a good deal of Shakespeare, but Hamlet and Macbeth in particular, and I was all OMG THIS BOOK IS EVEN BETTER NOW.

Looking forward to re-reading Watership Down, reading Fast Ships Black Sails, and kind of dreading kind of flailing with impatience for Treason's Shore. (What an awful title. Ms. Smith, we need to have some words about that title.)




Off to practice and die.



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