what I wrote for Yuletide

I wrote two pieces for this year's Yuletide:

Irrational Acts, which is PG-13 Doctor Who/Torchwood RPF. I almost feel guilty about it, but it's so meta meta meta meta meta, that I kinda don't.

The Way In Which Letters Must Always Tumble Downhill which is Katherine/Artemisia (PG-13) from Ellen Kushner's Riverside universe. I became so taken with Katherine's babbling, that I also did a podfic of it, which is linked on the story page (as an aside -- I really like reading aloud and it is good practice for me -- if you have a fic you're interested in a podfic of and want me to do, let me know and we'll talk).

sundries

- several errands and several different work related things today (gotta pay for kitty surgery).

- holiday cards going out.

- OMG, eleventh Doctor! I am not ready. (also, the two men leanind in the odds, once of whom I'm fine with and one of whom I adore, are both not white. I am so not ready for another awful racewank in one of my fandoms).

- So my hair. Cut now for Visions of Weinmar Dances of Vice or wait, on the odd chance I win that Australia essay contest, so that I can have fabulous 1940s girl hair at the benefit? Logic says wait. My crazy logic says "cut now to ensure a win so you can freak out about your really short hair." Either way, it is getting cut before Gallifrey One.

Doctor Who?!?!?!!?

This kid must have given the greatest audition ever.

the other thing that is going on

My mother called me crying earlier about my father's health. She took him to the ER the other day because he was in agonizing pain and couldn't walk. They found nothing wrong, then he felt better, now he has huge pain again mainly in his thigh but radiating to the knee and up to the hip. They say it's not sciatica. The back pain, which the doctors said was they think him passing a kidney stone is now gone, but he's bedridden and my mother is in tears and screaming at me because I don't have a diagnosis or a solution.

I'm frustrated and stressed, feel annoyed that the fact that I work and have responsibilities too isn't acknowledged, and then I'm a callous bitch when I try to get anyone to calm down, give me information and look at our options. Also, My father is 75 and has been in poor health for a long time -- at this point everything doesn't get to be an emergency. Also, doctors are not gods, and my mother needs to be more aggressive with them -- especially if her mode of operation is going to continue to be her withholding information from me, then resenting me, then giving me information and then yelling at me when I don't know how to act on it instantly.

Of course, there are other dramas here. As a daughter I am supposed to be a caretaker, but I'm not. My mother complains she's not strong enough to lift my father to help him with basic tasks. Well my dad weighs 200lbs, so neither am I. Also, one of the longest incidents of my parents berating me as a child came when I accidentally walked into my parents bedroom when my father was changing clothes. I'm sorry, I know as parents get older we deal with these things and depersonalize them, but no. I'm not signing up for their issues or my father's fear and resentment of me for being female.

I am rambling and am calmer about all this than I seem.

I do wish someone would tell me why the fuck I have two different birthdays before my parents die though.

new mobile

Does anyone else have the Rant from Samsung/Sprint? Do you have any idea if I can (and if so how) to do custom wallpapers/ringtones for it?

Also, if you think I should have your number since you have mine, pls page me and tell me who you are so I can add you back into my phone book.

small victories

Patty has safely arrived either in Oman or at her dig site (not sure), but said Internet seemed reliable, so maybe dig site.

and I finally got the new phone to do something cool.

Is it wrong that I just set my new ringtone to be London Calling? That's fucked up, right? Oh, hey, they also have that song by The Killers I'm obsessed with.

*laughs like an idiot*