hector_rashbaum

Dear Yule Goat:

Number one, thank you!

Number two, I am an extremely easy person to please! There are a few things I always always love - lots and lots of kissing, wacky hijinks, adorable/witty (or character-thinks-he's-witty-but-not-so-much) banter, cracky premises - and only one thing I can think of that I never do - character bashing.

Number three, for a better idea of the fic I like, check out my poorly-maintained recs list, fic_saurus, heygirlfriends, and blackwayfarers. If seeing what I write is any help, that's all here

( Fandom/Character Specifics )

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/258361.html

IDK why I'm so exhausted; I've been getting a full eight hours, give or take ten minutes at most, every night except Friday & Saturday, and since I nap most of the day Saturday & Sunday that shouldn't make a huge difference. And I'm not seeing any signs the sleep I'm getting is restless - if my sheets were all fucked up in the morning, or something, I'd get it. But there's no sign of bad sleep, and I'm still having trouble getting out of bed when my alarm goes off, still dragging ass by the end of the day. Today I took a half-hour nap even though I have a rule against napping on weekdays, and I'm already wanting to crawl into bed. Blah.

It doesn't help I've been having killer migraines like crazy lately; two Saturdays in a row I've woken up with a bad one that refuses to die, and I keep getting them at work. We have two warehouses, the one we usually work in and one across the street that's mostly there to get shit out of the way we work in every now and then. The crap warehouse has fluorescent lighting, and we've been checking cans/boxes for rust, which means having to scrutinize in crappy, dim lighting. AWESOME for my headaches, totally.

We have a four-day weekend coming up. Maybe I just need a break.

ETA: While I was in the shower, one of the cats decided to work on the sequel to I Don't Blame You For Being You:

Kevin blinks; the night before flashes into his head, more than he could remember before, and the second he sees it his face has to show it, 'cause Mike looks away.

"RRRRD1`N IU DSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXSSSS)_PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPVPI'm sorry, Kevin."

When I figure out which cat it was, I think I'll let her write my yuletide fic.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/260749.html

So today is apparently Official Pimp sodamnskippy Day, the most delightful of all holidays.

sodamnskippy is the ~*~official~*~ (read: only) home for all things Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas, the Pairing Of My Soul (Kevin/Zac is still the Pairing Of My Heart, put them together and you have Nick J & The Administration's music, apparently).

I tend to write a very different Kevin when I'm pairing him with Mike than with anyone else; that's the closest I can come to describing the appeal. But, then, if I could say it in a few sentences I'd probably lose all desire to write Mike/Kevin, because part of the fun for me is trying to get at why the unholy fuck this stupid combination works so well. Mostly I think there is a version of Kevin in my head who knows who he is and is happy with himself, but not necessarily with the life he's creating for himself, the role he's fitting himself into, and Mike challenges that life.

That sounded less corny in my head, IDK. Also it doesn't even begin to address what Mike gets out of it. But.

Basically. Mike/Kevin is awesome, thus sodamnskippy is awesome. Also, yesterday I wrote Mike/Kevin vampire fic, which is awesome.

(It should also be said that Mike/Kevin has gotten me reading fuckloads of Bandom fic. Anyone who's been around my journal for a while knows that's kind of a big get)

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/260501.html

When I have nothing of substance to say, I meme. And since 90% of the crap in my head are sequels/prequels to existing stories, this is as good as any.

Give me one of my own stories, and a timestamp sometime in the future after the end of the story, or sometime in the past before the story started, and I'll write you at least a hundred words of what happened then, whether it's five minutes before the story started or ten years in the future.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/260331.html

Anyone interested in an invite to the Archive Of Our Own?

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/260030.html

So after missing work Wednesday thanks to my ER visit and Thursday thanks to some residual gross-feeling-ness and a bad migraine, I managed to make it through the day on Friday, making it a 24-hour week.

Of course, by the middle of the day Friday I was feeling crappy in an entirely different way than Tuesday night's stomach disaster and Thursday's migraine. Because it's the first week of November, which means I have to get a cold. I thought maybe I'd escape it this year; when I'm in school, I get wicked burned out the last week of October, and I was hoping the cold was a result of that. But no.

Because all the pictures of Kevin with ladies' shoes in Milan made me so happy, ( have 600 words of Kevin-is-a-crossdresser fic )

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/259730.html

It's okay, Kevin. Give in. Just try it on; you know you want to.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/259473.html

Home sick from work again. I would like to feel healthy just for one frigging day, please.

That means GO ASK FOR SOME DVD COMMENTARY, bitches, because I'm hella bored and want to talk about myself. For shits, I'll open up anything from the WIP meme, too.

Otherwise I'm gonna spend all day working on the Kevin Jonas/David Bryan crossover epic that's been lurking in my brain forever, and no one wants that.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/259107.html

I was horribly sick last night and ended up in the emergency room from 2 am until 4; I'm fine now, although I won't know what's actually wrong until I go see my doctor next week. It was bad stomach pain - like, couldn't move without five minutes of psyching myself up bad - and the er doc's guess is an ulcer or something with my gall bladder. Because that wasn't awesome enough, after I skipped work to sleep all day, I woke up with a killer migraine that won't die. PLUS PLUS the reason I'm not seeing The Academy Is... tonight is I didn't want to miss work (it's a 4 hour drive)...but I missed work anyway. SO TODAY KIND OF ROCKED, and as is the custom with days that rock, I'm posting a meme (and, uh, I am not ignoring the songfic meme prompts, I've just had 800 other fics demanding to be written).

Pick a paragraph (or any passage less than 500 words) from any fanfic I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the character's heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you'd expect to find on a DVD commentary track.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/259060.html

Yuletide signups are open, and there are a number of nominated fandoms relevant to my flist's interest: 17 Again, Hairspray, JONAS, Leverage, Disney RPF (KEVROOOON), High School Musical RPF, Wizards of Waverly Place. So go sign up and improve my chances of getting Kevron this year.

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I have kind of failed at LJ lately. Mostly because I am very very boring.

Work is...work, idk. I still like it, but there are some people (Crazy Conspiracy Lady, Dickbag Who Has The Impulse Control Of A Five-Year-Old, The One Who Doesn't Understand Boundaries) I really wish would go. Unfortunately, two of them are really good workers - or at least they get a lot done, I hesitate to actually call CCL a good worker, because to me that includes some willingness to adapt to the team - but Impulse Control's tendency to cross the line until someone gets hurt (he has sprayed me in the face with isopropyl alcohol before. He is SO LUCKY it was me he hit [he wasn't aiming] because I had glasses on so none got in my eyes. Plus I was in a good mood that day). IDK. Mostly it's good. Today I got to organize on a large scale, boss around the forklift driver, and carry around my Troy Bolton pen and Jonas Brother notebook (my other option was a sharpie and discarded cardboard, okay) in an official capacity. So that was neat.

I am spending most of my time writing Jonas Brothers hooker!fic, working title Kevin Jonas: The Sad Little Hooker Who Could. Because it's not like I have three different challenge fics on a deadline, or anything. It's not my fault no one has picspammed me inspiration for any of them.

Wow this is exactly as boring as I expected.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/258100.html

Bon Jovi have a new album! They are still my first epic love.

( Thoughts. Warning: SO MUCH BABBLE AND INCOHERENCE )

Verdict: Oh Bon Jovi, never change. I am kind of curious to see where they go after 2010, 'cause their sound tends to change ever decade, but I think I'm getting some flashes here. There's so MUCH to every song, but this is so MELLOW. IDEK. I feel like Jon has hit this point where he's CONSTRUCTING songs, he's not just writing shit down and finding something for everyone to do. Like, idk, they've never been unpolished or half-ass but there's something about this that is SO MUCH MORE than they have been, like everything's so...full, idk. I AM SO NOT PUTTING THIS RIGHT. Whatever. I LOVE THIS SHIT my carpool buddy is gonna be so sick of it by the end of the week.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/257814.html

y/y?

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/257777.html

My mom just called me down to have A Talk about how I'm not doing well, which...I'm not but I'd kind of hoped it wasn't all that obvious. I basically just cited my inability to afford zoloft right now, and the fact that I only just looked at what I've been doing and realized something wasn't right, and just nodded and mmhmm'ed at the appropriate places because I hate that conversation.

It's probably necessary; I realize that even if it isn't, she's probably always going to assume it is based on her speaking up being the thing that got me back home and into counseling. But tonight she kept mixing it with "you need to be better with money" talk and I don't know how much of that conversation was "you're not okay and I'm worried" and how much was "it's time to get your shit together and stop being a fucking mooch".

Both of which are valid motivations. I'd just like to know.

I knew, when I posted a few days ago about how my behavior tends to change before I even know I'm getting bad, I was in for it, approaching a wicked bad depressive episode. It would be nice if knowing did any good, if I could make this thick chokey can't-fucking-breathe on-the-brink-of-tears-all-the-time feeling not come if I know about it fast enough. I should be able to; theoretically I picked up all the tools in counseling. But I can only do it when I'm not bad; I can keep myself going day-to-day but I can't pick myself up when I fall over, not right away.

I don't want to do this for the rest of my life.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/257302.html

I know, too many memes lately. MAYBE I SHOULD POST SOMETHING WITH SUBSTANCE. But I am convinced if I can get something finished, my brain will go OH YEAH I LIKE THIS WRITING THING and then I can do the couple of challenge fics I need to do. LOGICK.


I've got 132 songs in this one playlist (chosen at random)

Pick a number 1 - 132, gimme a pairing, and I'll write you something. It might be cracktacular, but it'll be something ;)

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/257034.html

One of the things I do when my depression/anxiety flares up is spend a lot of time reading my old LJ posts. I have no idea why, but. That's why all the ~classic~ memes lately.

Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.

I should be asleep right now, should've been asleep three hours ago. I'm tired. And yet.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/256996.html

I am a MORON, and volunteered to work at our church's turkey supper tonight. Which I've doen every year since forever, EXCEPT, in past years I haven't had work all day. I got home half an hour ago and have to leave in like ten minutes. And I'llbe out until eight or nine. UUUUGH STUPID. Free dinner, though.

Oldie but goodie:

The WIP meme: post a little bit of each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations.

( A multitude of Jonas fic, + HSM and Merlin )

WHAT SHOULD I BE WORKING ON? Tell me what catches your eye, because I have, like, a surplus of WANT TO WRITE and a huge deficit of KNOW WHAT TO WORK ON.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/256690.html

I was weirdly excited to go to work today. DORK. IDK, I have lost my taste for sitting around doing nothing for more than a day or two at a time, and my anxiety's too high to look for another job, so even if I didn't like the job itself going back would've been kind of a relief.

EXCEPT. One of my favorite work people who is kind of a douchebag, in the typical-20-year-old-privileged-white-dude way, started in with some racist bullshit (the sort you hear from lots of people - "they can call me whitey I can't call them n*****, they can have BET I can't have WET, the playing field is totally equal so clearly this is all unfair"). A couple people caught how horrified I looked, tried to steer the subject elsewhere, he kept going. I specifically asked him to change the subject, because I have the privilege of just ignoring racist bullshit, he...did, sort of. Stopped for maybe a minute, then asked me to explain what was so offensive about what he'd said. I said I didn't want to talk about this anymore, he pushed. So against my better judgment I started to explain, and he...argued with everything I said until I just stopped.

AND THEN he spent the rest of the day asking if I hated him, if we were cool, etc. because OBVIOUSLY that is the main concern when you get called out on your racist bullshit, if the white woman still thinks you're a lovable douchebag instead of just a douchebag.

So THAT WAS FUN. Escapism! Meme:

The problem with LJ: We all think we are so close, but really we know nothing about one another. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/256452.html

Zefron knows when I'm sad (I just spent the last hour curled up in bed, where I would've been writhing in agony except my stomach was cramping so badly I couldn't MOVE) and wants me to be happy. Look! GQ outtakes!



( Moar )

In other news, apparently my new favorite thing (I say new like it hasn't always been one of my favorites) is taking utter crack and making it serious and angsty. First there was sad-facey sex- and gender-swap, now sad-facey mermaid fic. Brain, mermaids are supposed to be delightful.

Also, I got my job back. I wish they wouldn't do the off-for-a-week-then-back-on thing, a week is just enough time to SERIOUSLY wreck the sleep schedule I was sticking to so dutifully.

Mirror post: http://hector-rashbaum.dreamwidth.org/256089.html

The weird thing about my depression/anxiety is a lot of times it gets bad in the background; I don't feel myself backsliding until all of a sudden there I am. I realized today, after I had to hype myself up to take a shower, after I wandered around Hot Topic for 20 minutes building up the courage to ask if they had such-and-such a shirt in my size, after a quick audit of the past few days showed I hadn't left my room more than necessary and I'd spent most of that time sleeping, that I'm getting bad again.

I don't know if I was actually better when I was working, or if it was a false positive, if needing to get out in the world every day just let me say to myself "hey, not spending my whole life in my room, doing good". Either way, I can't be trusted to take care of myself without a routine that demands I do; I've known this for a while.

Not that I want to feel horrid all the time, but I wish it took my conscious mind kicking into depression-mode before my subconscious set my body going about the depression-mode routine. Cart before the horse, subconscious, not cool.

In less depressing news, I got Disney Pop Hits Singstar and I'm pretty sure my life is complete. Except. At some point my dog chewed through my only controller, so I had to use the HSM3 Dance! dance pad - laid it out on my bed and smacked the X and O and START areas. Which was okay, except I couldn't go back if I hit the wrong song - no triangle - and I couldn't edit my name, no square. WHATEV, I got to sing, and THAT'S THE IMPORTANT PART.

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