"You know, you're nothing like the girls I've dated before."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, maybe that one... but I have a thing for Irish girls..."

"I'm not Irish, Jamie."

"Well... you could be!"

"I could?"

"You're very... I really like... maybe you can..."

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Try breathing."

"Oh... right. ...Cathy, I really like you."

"I really like you, too."

"So... can we maybe go out sometime?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."


Jamie fails. Badly.



Well, guys, it's been fun. I've blogged, vented, rambled, written, spazzed, and nearly passed out. I hope you've enjoyed the journey more than I enjoyed getting there. XD I want to send shout-outs to my three sponsors: Krissy, Leany, and Ai (I think it's Ai). You guys win. Thanks to you, Planned Parenthood will have $50 to spend on... whatever! Granted, $50 isn't much, but it's more than nothing!

...I feel very Dharma-esque.

I'm now going to go sleep for as long as humanly possible, sleep schedule be damned.

I love you all, come again next year!

So, this is a bunch of old tracks of me singing that I have on my box.net account. SO. Please don't laugh, most of these were recorded in the middle of the night when I was trying not to wake the 5-year-old.

A Capella Parental Worry aka - Voice Mail #5, RENT
You'll Get Over It NYTW Rent. Just Maureen.
The Wizard and I Wicked. I cannot vouch for the quality of my voice.
Take Me or Leave Me Rent. Same as above.
King of New York Newsies. I'm actually rather fond of this one.
What is This Feeling? Wicked. Don't listen if you get weirded out by the same voice singing a duet.

Like I said at the beginning, I can't vouch for the quality of any of these. They were recorded months ago, and mostly in the middle of the night. SO. Don't judge me by these tracks, please.

Now this is the CRACKY music post. Evie, all on her lonesome...

Quartet - Chess Yes, all by myself. I told you, CRACKY.
Florence and Molokov - Chess Just Flo. My cool British Flo.

I am on crack, yes.

Tiiiiired.

Don't judge my voice too harshly from these tracks. My voice isn't at its best right now, obviously.

So, in the interest of being... Something... I don't know where I was going with this.

TWO NEW SONGS! Because I can't help myself.

Someone Else's Story - Chess
Where I Want to Be - Chess

So... yeah. Enjoy. For anyone who's ever heard me do WIWTB before, I tried some new riffy things. Nothing too big, but pretty, I think.

Also, we lost Aubrey She went to bed about 15 minutes ago. *le sigh* I want to go to beeeeed. T____T

*wanders off to try to stay awake until nine*

I apologize to everyone in advance for this piece of underage, incestuous, vaguely necrophilic, almost non-con smut. It's all enterincolor's fault.



"Stop it!" she growled, and despite the fact that he was, in all technical terms, dead, a ghost, an apparition, he could feel the pressure as his hard-on grew... well, it just grew. Gabriel's grin was almost feral as his sister, so very warm and solid and alive squirmed under him.

"Why should I?" he asked, and kissed her hard. She kissed back for a moment, then seemed to come back to herself. He could feel her hands clench - he pinned her wrists more securely - and she bit his lip as hard as she could. Gabe jerked back (more out of a feeling that he should than any real pain) and grinned. "You think that hurts?"

"I hate you," her voice was low, dangerous. Gabe wasn't scared. "Get the fuck away from me."

"If you wanted me to stay away," he purred, "You wouldn't have worn a skirt and no panties."

She didn't say anything, but glared at him. She hated him, he knew that, but she also loved him a little. Just like he loved her. God, he loved her so much.

He had to let her go to unbutton and kick off his pants, and she made it halfway across the room before he grabbed her and pinned her in a corner. "You're trying to run?" he asked softly. She growled wordlessly and tried to hurt him. She should have known that she couldn't hurt him.

"I hate you!" she shouted. It was a good thing they were home alone.

"Maybe so," Gabe said as he shifted and entered her in one smooth movement. She gasped, and he tangled his fingers in her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck. "Maybe so, but you like this,"

He fucked her hard, and if he'd been alive, he would've had welts and cuts and scratches and bruises all over him. As it was, Natalie was probably bruised pretty badly. She'd called him a bastard even as she'd clung to him, shuddering, orgasming, and Gabe liked that.

"Get the fuck out of my room!" she hissed after she'd caught her breath. Gabe didn't say anything, just smirked and left.

He'd be back.

So, in the interest of doing something different, here's a song.

What You Feel, from Once More With Feeling. Buffy.

Clicking on the link will let you listen to it and (if you're so inclined) download it. So! Have fun.

Maybe I should just do this next year...




Or maybe I'll wait until I'm on Broadway and there'll be anyone other than my girlfriend who'll give a shit. XD



ETA: If you listen to the song, you can hear Aubrey in the background singing Dawn's part. SO CUUUUUTE!

I have three hours to write the underaged incestuous almost-non-con smut that I promised Alex.

*ponders this*

Matt & Danny

She'd asked them if they were coming to save the show, save her job, save her family. And they had. They'd done more than that, they'd made everything so much better than it had ever been while Suzanne had been working there.

And she loved when she poked her head into Matt's office to give him a message and he and Danny were bent over his laptop, or staring at the lineup, or just being themselves together.

Truth be told, she was a little in love with both of them. And they were the best thing that ever happened to the show, something she proudly told anyone who'd listen.

"Hey, Suzanne?" Matt stuck his head out and Suzanne looked up from her computer.

"Yeah?"

"You want to come to lunch with me? Danny canceled. Rebecca's got an ear infection or something..."

Suzanne smiled.

Simon

"Hey!"

Suzanne stopped when she heard Simon's voice and turned. She couldn't pretend she wasn't scared - the entire cast and crew had been called back to the studio. After that "marvelous" speech Wes gave, she didn't really have much hope for any of their jobs. "Need something, Simon?" she asked, hesitant.

"Nah," he said and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Just wanted to tell you not to worry."

"What?" Suzanne frowned. Simon smiled just a bit and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

"Don't worry about it," he repeated. "You're good at your job, Suzanne, you'll be fine." Suzanne wanted to say that she didn't care if she would be fine. She wanted to say that any other job wouldn't make her happy like working at Studio 60. That there was no other job she could imagine feeling quite this satisfied on. That there was no other place she thought she'd find a family in her coworkers. But she didn't need to say it and she knew that. The same thoughts and feelings were written over the faces of almost everyone she could see, Simon included.

She smiled at him as best she could. "Thanks."

Lucy should be Florence.

As much as I love Julia? If I ever play Florence, I will use Lucy as her PB.

That is all.




Aubrey: ...Are you high?
Me: *cracks up* No! Wish I was...



*NEED SLEEP*

"I'm not paranoid, they're out to get me!"

Florence could only facepalm. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? He glanced over at her from behind the podium, a hopeful smile on his face. She just shook her head and walked away.

She didn't see his face fall as she walked away.

She heard about how he assulted a reporter. She didn't hear that he had punched the guy for implying that the only reason she was Freddie's second was because they were sleeping together.

Florence knew plenty, but she didn't know everything. And Freddie thought that if she had, she wouldn't have left him.

Auuuuuubrey's dad's a DOOOOOOOUUUUUCHEBAAAAAG.


I should write a song. And play it all over the radio.

Srsly. This guy is an idiot. I don't feel like going into it right now, but he's just a fucking IDIOT.

That's really all I can say right now. I'm a little one-track when I've had this little sleep.

Aubrey's back! By the way. Tim was a bit of an idiot, but we love him still. And now I wanna see Tamyra. w00t!

The studio 60 fic has been temporarily postponed so I can try to help my girlfriend deal with her douchebag of a father.

That is all.

Harriet

Suzanne knocked on the open dressing room door and poked her head in. "Harriet?"

"Yeah?" came the distracted answer from the blonde woman at the dressing table.

"Ten minutes to dress," Suzanne said, her voice subdued. Harriet looked up, her expression worried.

"Suzanne?" she called as Suzanne started to leave. Suzanne looked back, eyebrows raised. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Suzanne said, her voice soft. Harriet was honestly worried about her, and Suzanne appreciated it. "It's just... a bad day."

"Okay," Harriet said gently. "After the show, why don't we go get some dinner? For girl time, y'know?"

Suzanne frowned. "You... don't want to go to the wrap party?" she asked. Harriet smiled.

"I'll see you after the show," she said, her tone airy, and turned back to the mirror.

Suzanne left and resumed her rounds. "Jeannie, dress in eight!"

Cal

"You!" Suzanne stopped as Cal walked up to her and stared wide-eyed. She'd never been directly addressed by someone so high up in the chain of command.

"Y-yes sir?" she asked, trying not to squeak or look scared. It didn't entirely work. She didn't know what horrible thing she'd done to get noticed by Cal, but she knew that her job was history.

"You're the one who fixed Melinda's setup last night?"

"Uh..." Suzanne was taken aback - she hadn't thought that anyone would notice that, and it certainly wasn't what she'd been expecting. "Ye-es?"

"How'd you know what to do?" Cal asked, curious.

"Well, it was kind of obvious, wasn't it?" she asked, with a bit of a dubious tone. Why was he asking her this?

"Okay. Okay, good. You're an intern, right?" Suzanne nodded. "What's your name?"

"Suzanne..." she said slowly. Cal grabbed the arm of someone passing by.

"Dave, get Suzanne on the payroll as a PA, okay?"

"What?" Suzanne squeaked. Cal grinned at her.

"You're movin' up, kid. Go call your folks, treat yourself to a nice dinner. Check in with Marty at eight tomorrow."

"Yes... yes sir!" Suzanne said, breaking into a smile as Cal strode off to take care of the next order of business.

Tom

"Um, excuse me?" Suzanne stood in the lobby of Studio 60, uncertain and confused. The skinny, slightly geeky-looking man she had addressed stopped and smiled at her.

"Hey, you lost?" he asked with friendly smile, and Suzanne relaxed slightly.

"Sort of? It's my first day, I'm an intern, and I don't exactly know where I"m supposed to go."

"Oh, yeah!" His smile widened. "You want to talk to Betty. I'll take you to her office." He motioned for her to follow as he walked off, and Suzanne fell into step behind him. "I'm Tom Jeter, by the way."

"Suzanne Astin," she said, a little breathless from nerves. "A-are you one of the actors?"

"Yeah!" Tom's smile brightened. "Nobody recognizes me yet, but I'm working on that. You a fan of the show?"

"Uh-huh," Suzanne nodded. "I'm not really invested in comedy, but I really want to get into production? And this is a great place to get started. Um, if I can get promoted high enough."

"I'm sure you'll do great," Tom reassured her as he stopped in front of an office door. "Okay, this is Betty's office. You find me if you need anything, okay? I'm not exactly big, but I'll do what I can." His grin turned sheepish. "Anyway, no offense, but they'll be more likely to listen to a bottom-rung actor than an intern."

Suzanne laughed at that. "Thanks. I'll see you around," she called as he walked off. She smiled to herself, a secret, happy little smile. She was definitely going to like working here.

To clarify and make good on my last entry:

Miri is bipolar. Badly. And I understand that personally. And I understand that she's having a nasty stress thing right now.

However, I am under a lot of strain right now, too. I'm tired and I've been on the verge of a meltdown for about half a week now. And I really do not have the mental capacity to deal with this. Especially because she wants to clean, but this place is such a fucking MESS and very little of it is actually my fault, or Aubrey's. And I get stressed facing all that mess and not knowing where the fuck I should start or how to start, and I can't deal with that just now.

I need to get out of this house. So. Fucking. Badly.

And the thing about her wanting us to help clean? That this place is so small and (no offense to her, but it's true) she's so big, that it's really hard for more than one person to clean. And then her cats? Piss and vomit all over the fucking house because she doesn't keep up with the litter box. And... I just... a;owieh;faj;wea;oihb.

There's nothing I can do. I just need to get the fuck out of here.

I feel safe saying this here because my roommate, as previously stated, won't see it because she only uses LJ for RP as far as I can tell.

WHAT THE FUCK. I know you're unstable or PMSing or something. But getting into a tizzy because you can't find your whole wheat goldfish in the colossal MESS that is this trailer, and then acting like it's a terribly entitled thing to have someone OFFER to bring you honey for your tea when you're sick, depressed, have three essays due in a week, and it's SNOWING OUT instead of going to the store (when you have NO MONEY), and THEN freaking because the garbage can is full and hasn't been emptied yet...

Yeah, honey, get a grip. Seriously. Get OVER yourself and your entitlement issues and your strange pet peeves with things everyone else finds totally normal. How does mercilessly mocking Christian beliefs validate them, for example? Yeah, I don't see how Good Omens validates the Christian beliefs of the end of the world at all.

That is all.

"Check," the blonde murmured into Freddie's ear as she ran her fingers down his chest. Freddie shivered - he was a better chess player than she was, but right now he couldn't strategize worth shit. She had him right where she wanted him, horny and unable to think straight, and he had no objection to that state of affairs.

He stared at the board for a moment, thoughtfully, trying to think if he could get out of this corner, then toppled his king. "Mate," he whispered.

Florence Vassey grinned triumphantly and pushed him back against the sofa.

See Dharma Run.
Run Dharma Run
See Dharma Run Amok!


...Amok! Amok amok amok...

...it's almost midnight. I'M NEARING THE CRACKING POINT! :D

*going loopy*