Heads you Live, Tails you Die

This is a Happy Post which is filled with happy things. Feel free to squee, or even add your own happy things to it. I am liking the amount of happy in this post.

( May it be the shadows' call will fly away/ May it be you journey on to light the day/ When the night is overcome,/ You may rise to find the sun. )

How did I ever think I could take sciences for the rest of my life? I am a special kind of stupid. And stubborn.

My only trouble with a Lit degree is that they’re in the process of changing syllabi, so I’d be taking half the old qualification, and half of a new one. Which is probably not even possible. The boards always change the year after I go through; they do it just to cause problems. *sighs* I have no idea how I’m actually going to get on the course though, since there is no way I’ve done better than a B at best in even Physics this year, and my A in General doesn’t count for anything, no matter how hard we all worked in that class. Some teachers just make you want to work for them.

Getting the books out and going back through the poems is so much fun though, and I love that I can still spot things and link them into my History and Theology and… I love English sooo much, physics doesn’t even compare.

It kind of makes me feel bad about myself though. I know logically that I’m not stupid and that my repository of knowledge gained from history and faith and even sciences is huge, but I just can’t seem to prove that to anyone at the moment. I know I’m not the golden girl, and I know that I’ll always be trying to prove myself, but it would be nice to have something to take to the universities and say “Look, look how amazing I am, look how badly I want to take this course, see how passionate I am about English!” and have it be enough to scrub the bad grades that are all anyone wants to look at.

I’m just not pushing myself anymore. I’ll argue that erotica is a much undervalued genre until the cows come home, but PWP is always going to be PWP, no matter how good the grammar and subtle the word play is. And part of me wants to stop writing it, because people just don’t see any skill in it. But I can’t keep plots, because I don’t care about plots, because I’d rather play with people…

I’m such a whiny bitch at the moment. I really need to just get over myself and get on with everything. Like the six or so sharps I need to go and convince the nurse to stick in my arm ASAP since no-one bothered to update my jabs when I turned 16. Because clearly the girl who climbs rocks and shoot rifles is never going to damage herself and contract anything nasty…

Also, ( pretty word frequency maps )

How good was COE last night?

( Cut for Spoilers and Rambling... )

Two not-drabbles-but-similar:

Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, Dawn (G)
RPS, Chris/Steve, Peace (G)

And three comment_fics

The Covanent, Caleb/Pogue, Such a Tease (NC17)
Friday Night Lights, Tim Riggins/Julie Taylor, Unexpected
Leverage, wee!Eliot, learning to ride for the first time

Apparently, the writing foo is not fully back yet, but we're getting there slowly... possibly with the aid of yellow Ducatti.. ♥