Yes, I Have Definitely Been Here Too Long. . .

(Kat staggers in, half gagging. The scent of burning hair, lotion, and cucumbers follows her.)

Why is it that Nair smells like cucumbers to try to cover up the scent of burned hair? Yeah, I don't know either. I do not ask this because of my own usage of said Nair, but because of Josh's, Roman's, and Matt's usage of said Nair. (Nair, for the unenlightened is a hair removal lotion that burns the hair off of one's. . .whatever you're using it on.) In this case it was being used liberally on the legs of the Shakespeare class boys, so that they can wear bloomers without tights and not look like fools. So in my nose, from Saturday's rehearsal, lingers the scent of cucumbers, burning hair, and lotion. Megan (our Hamlet) and I then mocked the boys mightily. Haha, we go through that all the time.

Proof that I have been in my family too long: I called Luke honey this morning. And I am starting to act far too much like everyone's mother. Even my father's mother. And my father walked out on us at dinner last night. And we were at a restaraunt. And then I had to worry about how I was going to get everyone home, because Mom wasn't there. And then I dragged him back from the café he was stroking his little masculine ego in. And then I yelled at him. And then he told me I was being overbearing and I reminded him of Mama Rose from Gypsy. And then I threw my copy of "Of Mice and Men," at him. (And then the Dark Lord said, "NO!")

Further proof I've been in this family way too long. (And also read too much Chekhov lately.)

Kat: Mom, were did you Pitya the - put the - putka - pit - GAK! (Gives up.)

Mom: On the kitchen counter, by the grill.

Kat: . . .

In other news, I'm listening to Annie Lennox's Love Song for a Vampire. It's eh. The lyrics have, to say the least, been done, and the music is a little eh, but it has become this weird cultural phenomenon among phans, so I don't know. An mp3 is findable here. I really hope that html works, 'cos I'm a lazy Kat today.

I really like Robert Frost. No, not that way you nitwit.

GAFF is back! But the forums are all ugly and blechy. I liked the old one, and our new emoticons are going to eat my soul. Sigh.

Oh, and a short message to the masses of you people: EMAIL MEEEEEE! 'Cos I'm a bored Kat. . .And I'm basically surgically attached to the computer right now. Seriously. I've been on here for four hours without a break. Because I really do lack a life. Or anything resembling one.

I wrote a poem last night. I think it's awful, but I'm not sure yet.

Quote of the Day

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And many miles to go before I sleep
And many miles to go before I sleep."

- Robert Frost.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Full of Grace

I'm working on my magnum opus at present. It's called "Full of Grace," and when I say started I mean have it in the beginning stages in my little brain. The majority will most probably be written in Anthro and Math. Hah. All I know about it so far is that Erik has issues, as always, maybe even subscriptions, and Nadir is Nadir in his Nadirish way. (She said, as if anyone but Ben knows even vaguely about Nadir.) And so. All I know is that it involves Erik saying the prayer that begins, "Hail Mary, full of grace," that it will involve much E/N slashy goodness - because it is necessary for a balanced diet of phic, between the Celebrian and legolas by laura - and that it will probably be AU. I plan to have it cover the entire story, so 'tis liable to be rawther lawng.

Sigh.

I should get to writing. Gotta brush up on my prayers first.

Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death.
Amen.

Squee. Catholic prayers, are, of course, the ideal background for homoerotic storytelling.

I think I may have issues.

Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit.
As it was in the beginning,
is now,
and ever shall be,
world without end.
Amen.

I think I want to end with that one.

"O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and how inscrutable His ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been His counselor? Or who has given a gift to Him that He might be repaid? For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory for ever. Amen."

- Romans 11:33-36.

Eh. I dunno. Use it?

Soul of Christ, sanctify me
Body of Christ, save me
Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Water from Christ's side, wash me
Passion of Christ, strengthen me
O good Jesus, hear me
Within Thy wounds hide me
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee
From the malicious enemy defend me
In the hour of my death call me
And bid me come unto Thee
That I may praise Thee with Thy saints
and with Thy angels
Forever and ever
Amen

Eeek. A bit much, perhaps, that one.

"I love You, O my God, and my only desire is to love You until the last breath of my life. I love You, O my infinitely lovable God, and I would rather die loving You, than live without loving You. I love You, Lord and the only grace I ask is to love You eternally....My God, if my tongue cannot say in every moment that I love You, I want my heart to repeat it to You as often as I draw breath."

- Saint John Vianney.

Whoa. I'm almost compelled to use that in a bed scene, but seriously, that is one long quote to remember in the throes of passion. . .

I think I need to stop writing E/N RIGHT NOW.

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,
Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being loved...
From the desire of being extolled ...
From the desire of being honored ...
From the desire of being praised ...
From the desire of being preferred to others...
From the desire of being consulted ...
From the desire of being approved ...
From the fear of being humiliated ...
From the fear of being despised...
From the fear of suffering rebukes ...
From the fear of being calumniated ...
From the fear of being forgotten ...
From the fear of being ridiculed ...
From the fear of being wronged ...
From the fear of being suspected ...

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I ...
That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease ...
That others may be chosen and I set aside ...
That others may be praised and I unnoticed ...
That others may be preferred to me in everything...
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should…

Erik's saying that one. :) It's a bit of an anachromism, though, as the writer as born in 1865. . .

Bonus points if you know what the below means.

دریچه عاشق، دوستدار، فاسق، خاطرخواه

Quote of the Day

"Shhh, Mickey! Listen to the dancing porn star!"

- Kat. If I attempt to explain this further, I will only get myself into more trouble.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Thank You Note.

Okay, I promise not to gush or be overly sentimental.

But hey.

It's Jonathan Larson's birthday today, the man who wrote Rent. So I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you.

Thank you Jonathan Larson, for this wholly remarkable musical.

Quote of the Day

"There are two 11 year old girls groping me, oine oof them wielding a plastic baby. It's hard to type, really."

-Spencer. Snerk.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Um. Hi. Is This Thing On? Also, Necromancy.

(The blog is dark and silent. Dust covers everything. A tumbleweed blows by (wait, what?) and cobwebs gather in the corners.)

Kat: (Walks into the blog, a flashlight turned onto her face.) Hellooo? Ben? Gabe? Max? Mickey? Sane Personage? Spencer? Julian? (She comes upon Julian - in the last stages of rigor mortis.) Oh my. (Dusting him off.) Heh. Are you all rig - Dear God, he's dead.

Erika: Yes, he is. Isn't it wonderful?

Kat: Who asked you?

Erika: Point is, that you've been away so long they all died.

Kat: That doesn't make an ounce of sense.

Erika: Now I know you've been away too long.

Ely: (Skips in, singing.) Most fastidious, Sweeney was, quick and quiet and clean 'e was! Swing your razor wide, Sweeney, point it to the skies. Freely flows the blood of those who moralize!

Kat: . . .Hey, Ely.

Ely: Good to be back! Actually, everything's just GOOD! (Notices Julian.) Oh dear. He's deaaaad! Boo hoo! (Dissolves into a heap, bawling.)

Kat: Ahem. Erika, I think a little necromancy is in order.

Erika: Well, I'm not a bloody necromancer. For Pete's sake. Hey, you know who we should call?

Kat: Who? - Oh, you mean the guy from the Tim Burton short! Frankenweenie! You're brilliant, Erika.

Erika: Narcissist. I'll go get the phone.

(A few minutes later.)

Kat: Hello? Hello? Yes, is this Victor Fra - what? Who? Oh. No, no I'm not trying to reach Vincent Malloy. Sorry, wires crossed, it's that other Tim Burton short - what's the number? Ah, much thanks. (Dials.) Hello? I'm looking for Victor. Yes, thanks, do put me through - Hello Victor. Oh, hang on, I think this is the wrong Victor. Is this the Van Dort residence? Oh yes, I thought so. . .do you know Victor Franken - yes, that's the one. Thanks ever so much. My regards to Victoria and Emily, and say hello to the Undersea Gal. . .

Kat: Hey! Victor! Yeah, you, the one who brought the dog back to life - we need you over here.

(A few hours later.)

Victor: THEY ALLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

Kat: That went well.

Max: Catalina! (Glomps Kat.)

Kat: Gak. (Removes self.) Hi, guys. . .

Mickey: Wait, what happened? Wait. Wai-wai-wait-wuh-wai-wait wait wait wait wait!

Kat: Next time maybe you'll stay dead.

Ben: Oh for Pete's sake. . .

Julian: Who's Pete?

Spencer: One whose sake is. . .

Kat: (Sigh.)

Quote of the Day

"I had my goddaughter in a department store a number of years now. She was about four or five at the time and it was around Easter. Katie's always been a strangely brilliant child, and I have been known to ask her strange questions just to see what she comes up with. So, after we get the polaroid of her with the Easter Bunny, Katie made the point to remind me that Easter was about Jesus. So on a lark, I asked her: "What's the connection between Jesus and the Easter Bunny?"

Her reply: "I dunno, maybe the Easter Bunny killed Jesus."

And this bordering on elderly woman up the aisle cracks up laughing and says: "You know, in a way, he kind of did.""

- Molly Maguire, una persona de la GAFF.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.