sundries

It's that time again. Voting for round 4.02 of writerinadrawer is open until tomorrow afternoon.

You guys, SINUS INFECTION. Not migraine, not tension headache, SINUS INFECTION. Today my head no longer feels like it's going to EXPLODE. Hopefully that'll stay true.

Last night we went to that tango thing, despite the fact I felt pretty weird still. We learned some tango (wherein, I got frustrated a lot because the dance floor was too crowded for there to be room for anyone's error), but the girl who did the burlesque to "Shiny, Shiny Boots of Leather" way back was there dancing to "Roxanne" from Moulin Rouge, so, you know life was good.

Perhaps best, however, was making out with Patty on the balcony of the Players Club, UNTIL THERE WAS A FIST FIGHT! At Dances of Vice! At the Players Club. How absurd is that? Of course, because of where we were on the balcony, we couldn't go anywhere, so we just sort of watched it happen and hoped no one went over the side (no one did, although a $200 pipe apparently did that no one ever found). Weirdest part? The woman with one of the guys involved in the fight was wearing the same dress as the one I bought for the opera in Sydney. What are the odds?

AND! We met an LJ'er.

I love you all. I have read most of your responses because sitting up at the computer for more than 30 minutes at a time as been miserable, but I love you all.

For now that's all I've got. Still not loving being at my desk.

[Gattaca fic] Rome (Vincent/Jerome; Jerome/OCs)

Title: Rome
Fandom: Gattaca
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Vincent/Jerome; Jerome/OCs
Warnings: self-hatred/self-injury
Summary: Jerome Morrow has never wanted anything, ever.
Notes: Written for Ignaz for Yuletide 2009. I just realized I never posted this here and that I'm awfully fond of it. One of these days I'll do a podfic of it, as it's written for its sound.

( Jerome Morrow's middle name is not Eugene, and he is not afraid of heights. )