Year The Second

Hello, blog. I'm going to try to use you again this school year. I'm not exactly sure which school year this is for me. Am I a sophomore? It's  my second year here, and I live in sophomore housing. But then I'm in the Jr. Core for accounting. So this is just year the second.

Today I moved into my new apartment at Liberty Square. I'm living with my friends Stephanie, Nikki, Kassie, Carleigh, and Caroline. It should be fun! Our kitchen looks like it was bombed with kitchen supplies, though. It's too much effort to eat anything because of the state of the kitchen. I've got my room unpacked, though.

So tired. Not used to staying up past ten. Have things to do tomorrow. Need sleep. Night.

HMS Doctor/Rose

My flagship for Doctor Who is the HMS Doctor/Rose.

Most people ship specific incarnations of the Doctor, but I believe that the Doctor is the same man from regeneration to regeneration and that he will always be in love with Rose Tyler. I started shipping them in the first season, and it's been the Doctor/Rose ever since.

I ship the Doctor and Rose because they perfect each other. With the Doctor, Rose becomes not just a girl who wasn't smart or talented enough to be extraordinary. The Doctor shows her how to not just accept things, but to fight as hard as you can for a better world. The Doctor helps Rose realize that she's special, and important, and that she can save the world.

Rose is everything about humans that the Doctor loves. She's curious. She's innocent. She's passionate. She's peaceful. She's forgiving. She's just so human. Rose helps the Doctor recover from the trauma of the Time War and shows him that the universe has good in it. With Rose, the Doctor rediscovers all that's amazing about the universe and learns to love it again. Rose teaches the Doctor to have fun, which is particularly characteristic of him in his tenth and eleventh incarnations.

Basically, the Doctor and Rose were soulmates. Even after Journey's End, I believe there's more to their story. There are more Roses in alternate universes, and surely one will find the Doctor. In my headcanon, they will spend forever together.

Someone More Stressed Out Than Me

My MComm teacher assigned us to find someone more stressed out than ourselves and do something nice for them. The finding someone more stressed than me part of that is easy. My entire family counts, what with Ariel and Mom's car crash and Dad still having a crazy job. Also Ariel preparing to come out here to BYU. But they're far away, and I wanted to do something more local.

Still not difficult to find stressed out people. As I lie on the couch typing this, I have on almost sitting on my feet (Dr. Baltar) and another next to me (Dr. Baltar's roommate who we can call Loki).

Dr. Baltar is frantically trying to finish a programming project. He also leaves on his mission to Belize in just over a month. He's making preparations for that, and also figuring out what to do with his computers right before and while he's on his mission.

Loki is going on a motorcycle trip with his brother this summer, but keeps running into problems with the bike. Also roadtripping all over America on a motorcyle is a stressful undertaking.

So what did I do for these guys? Got them food. What else?

I dragged them and the other guys outside for a bit while we did homework and ate otter pops. Now I'm feeding them lemon sherbet. It's not much. But I think it's helpful. Dr. Baltar says that just having a girl around the apartment helps the guys feel better. I'm not sure to what extent that's true, since I think I barely count as a girl for most of them. But you know. Whatever works. They have a good sound system, M&Ms, and most importantly, a more social atmosphere than my apartment that houses two hermits.

I feel like these boys do more for me than I do for them. But I guess what's important is that we're all happy. And we are.

A Good Man Goes to War

Once upon a time it was Nanowrimo, and I wrote a story. For now, I'm calling it A Good Man Goes to War. Because ripping off Doctor Who titles is fun.

A Good Man Goes to War is a story about family, death, love, difficult moral choices, and redemption. Four different narrators chronicle a war between Earth’s guardian angels and the critical role two families play in it.

The novel begins when Michael is assigned watch over Marie Gregson, whose relatively safe, uneventful, and unimportant life is an odd assignment for an angel so skilled. Marie is childhood friends with Kelly and Connor, the children of the family friends the O’Donnells. When Kelly dies of leukemia at age twelve, Connor is devastated and enters a depression that continues for years. Kelly persuades Heaven to let her be Connor’s guardian angel.

The O’Donnells and Gregsons are reunited when the O’Donnells move to the Gregsons’ town. Connor and Marie rekindle their friendship, which is complicated by their mutual attraction, Connor’s depression, and Marie’s hallucinations, which she later learns are not hallucinations at all, but guardian angels. As Connor and Marie associate, Michael and Kelly become good friends. When a friend of Connor’s introduces him to a hallucinogenic drug, Connor finds that he can see Kelly, over whom he is still grieving, and quickly descends into addiction. Connor’s addiction breaks the hearts of both the Gregsons and the O’Donnells, and after an explosive fight over Connor’s drug usage, Connor and Marie don’t speak for two years.

Marie remains close to Connor’s younger siblings, Danny and Alice, despite her estrangement with Connor. Michael tells Kelly the rumors he’s heard of impending war among the guardian angels over their power over the humans they guard, unaware that Marie can hear and see both of them. Two years after Marie and Connor stop speaking to each other, Connor nearly kills Alice when he is under the influence of his hallucinogen. This incident leaves Alice in critical condition and shocks Connor into a lifestyle change. He goes to a rehabilitation center. Upon his return, he and Marie awkwardly try to patch up their friendship, which is complicated yet again by the feelings for each other they both have.

The guardian angels war escalates, and Michael and Kelly alternate guarding assignments while the other fights against the angels who kill their humans for attention to their cause. Michael becomes quite attached to Kelly, whose passionate love for her brother he admires.

Connor and Marie become friends again. Connor tells Marie that he saw Kelly whenever he took drugs, and Marie realizes that the drugs enable everyone else to see the angels she always sees. The next morning, Marie’s parents and Michael are shocked to find her and her car missing and a suicide note on her desk. Connor begins to spiral into depression, but Alice and Danny insist that Marie couldn’t have killed herself. Michael, furious with Kelly for letting Marie disappear while he was away, breaks Heaven’s rules and communicates with Connor through his computer and instructs him to look for her.

The angels’ war grows, and both Kelly and Michael have no choice but to leave the O’Donnells and their search for Marie. Connor, Danny, and Alice find Marie imprisoned by guardian angels in a roadside pharmacy, where she is frantically trying to reproduce the drug Connor was addicted to. She tells the O’Donnell siblings about guardian angels, how she can see them, how Kelly was usually with them, and all she overheard about the angels’ war. Alice readily accepts Marie’s tale, but Connor and Danny struggle with it.

Connor is very upset when his siblings volunteer to try using Marie’s recreation of the drug, which she has created in order to slip into the town’s water supply so that all humans can see the guardian angels and thus defend themselves should they attack. Connor grapples with the idea of forcing an entire town to consume the drug that nearly destroyed his life.

Around the world, casualties from the angels’ war rise, though no humans know the cause of the casualties. Michael and Kelly fight both on Earth and in Heaven. Marie perfects the drug the Connor used, and all the O’Donnell siblings decide to take the drug in order to help Marie fight her way out of the pharmacy. Once escaped from the pharmacy, the O’Donnells and Marie slip the drug that they made in the pharmacy into the water towers of all the towns they can reach.

Within a few hours, most people in the town can see the angels, and it is not long before the angels’ war comes to the town. Connor, Marie, and Alice fight the angels while Danny sends a summary of the situation and a recipe for the drug to his entire underground online network so that they can do the same in other towns.

The rebel angels lock their opponents out of the Earth, leaving humans alone to defend themselves from the rebel angels. The battle lasts for five days, but thanks to Marie’s recipe and Danny’s distribution of it, the human race survives long enough for Michael and some of the other best guardian angels to break back into the Earth and defeat the rebel angels.

Connor’s descent into drug addiction, which is broken only by a deep love for his family and lots of time and effort, and subsequent recovery illustrate for both readers and for Marie that people can always change. Through Kelly, Michael learns that great strength rather than weakness can come from love and the importance of family. Connor learns to accept death and that death is not the ultimate end of a soul. All of the characters face difficult choices that have no clear right or wrong answer, and learn that they must sometimes go against all they feel is right in order to prevent even worse evil from prevailing. Each character has their faith tried, and with a little help, comes out triumphant. They learn that at times, even good men must go to war, and when good men go to war for good reasons, demons run.

Practicing Stream of Consciousness Writing

I wandered into the main hall and found Amanda sitting with Chris Gillingham, whose red hair was as frizzy as ever, and – my heart skipped – Randall Hopkins. Randall had grown yet again over the summer; he had to be over six feet tall now. Stupid attractive boy and his stupid attractive tallness. Chris had grown too. Now they towered over everyone.

Breath, Kayley. Lick lips, fix hair, breathe, be calm, act natural, don’t forget to smile. Crap! What am I going to say to him? Hey? Hello? What’s up? Gah, no. Just say hi to Amanda first and talk to her for a minute first and then you can talk to Randall. Patience, girl. Chill out.

“Amanda!” I cried once I got within her hearing range. We hugged again, and I looked her over properly. Gorgeous as always, and taller than last year. “I could have sworn I used to be taller than you,” I teased her, standing on my tiptoes. Am I the only one who’s not growing?

Amanda stood on her tiptoes too. First time she ever stood taller than me even when I was on my tiptoes. It was wonderful to see her. We laughed and hugged again.  It was good to be back. It’s odd to think of Woodbridge as home, but it is really the closest thing to a home that I have.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

More hugs, and then Amanda gave me an eyebrow wiggle and nodded towards Randall. Don’t be obvious, he might notice! I returned the eyebrow wiggle. I am screaming on the inside and am eternally grateful to you for helping me see him so soon.

“Hey,” I said cheerfully and hopefully casually to Chris and wonderful-brilliant-Randall.

“Hey!” Chris beamed at me, as always. Chris is always like that. Honestly the cheeriest person I know.

Randall was a little shyer. Why is that so attractive? Stupid shyness should not stupid be so stupid attractive. I had spent many hours trying to figure out what it was about Randall that made my stomach feel like it was trying out for the Olympic gymnastics team, but had never come to anything more conclusive than “he’s just so Randall-ish.”

“Hi, Kayley,” he said. He said my name! “How was your summer?”

Thank goodness I actually have something to tell him about my summer. “It was really really great,” I told him.

Remember to talk to Amanda and Chris, too! Don’t look like you’re totally engrossed in gorgeous-Randall’s fantastic facial features. Even though you totally are, chided sensible-Kayley.

“My dad got to come home from Afghanistan for the summer-”

Shut up, I’m trying to have a conversation here! Retorted lovesick-Kayley.

“-so we spent the entire summer-”

Well you’re sucking at it!

“-on the craziest and best road trip of my life.”

Stop distracting me!

Randall smiled and laughed in all the right places, completely oblivious of the argument sensible-Kayley and lovesick-Kayley were having in my head. Amanda didn’t kick me in the shins, and she usually did when I was being super obvious about liking Randall, so I must have been doing a decent job at acting natural – ha! – and casual – ha! – and nonchalant – ha! Conversation’s going well!

“You’re still doing orchestra this year, right?” perfect-Randall asked me.

Are you kidding? Would I give up the chance to stare at you for an hour every day and pretend it’s because I’m just awesome at following the group when we play?

“Yeah, of course I am!” is what sensible-Kayley managed to translate from lovesick-Kayley’s gushing. Randall smiled at my answer, though I knew it was only because he knew that I was the best violist in the school and someone had to whip the other violists into shape. Randall told me that he and Chris were also still doing orchestra this year – obvious, since they were both really great at their instruments – and that his summer had been spent with family and at various camps for his church.

                Oh you wonderful boy, I am going to marry you someday.

Fandom

Learn everywhere. Learn from everything you do. Perhaps it’s because I grew up thinking that educational television was the only television out there, and that all games involved some aspect of learning that I have learned to look for lessons to learn from everything I come across, particularly the media I consume. All media – all books, stories, television, movies, or plays that are worth watching have truth in them. That’s why we as humans tell stories. Our stories, our fiction, our lies, reveal truth deeper than just plain words ever could.

“Story makes us more alive, more human, more courageous, more loving. Why does anybody tell a story? It does indeed have something to do with faith, faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.”

― Madeleine L’Engle

            I suppose that’s why I love fandom. Fandoms understand that stories are not just events that happen in an interesting way, but powerful treasure troves of emotion, feeling, splendor and heartache – an emotional roller coaster, yes, but one that brings you to highs you never could have imagined.

            My first fandom was the Harry Potter fandom, which I discovered when I was only ten years old, and had no idea what I was getting myself into. After reading the books, which transported me to a magical land of witches, wizards, spells, potions, flying brooms, ghosts, paintings that talked, monsters, giants and the boarding school environment, I was desperate for more Harry Potter. And so my young hands reached out to my parents' computer and searched the internet for Harry Potter. I was delivered, fresh and young blood, to the Harry Potter fansites, and without knowing what was happening, formed an allegiance to my favorite fansite, joined the legions of shippers, and delved into fandom - where the stories didn't end when you closed the book.

It was through Harry Potter that I found fanfiction, graphics, fanart, and learned about writing for fun. It was in the Harry Potter fandom that I grew to love fictional characters like I did my own friends. I thought that Harry Potter was everything.

“For now, all I could do was stare at the words I had just written on my screen, words that would shape the next several months of my life, that signified the end of an extraordinary time, a time that had given me confidence and purpose and independence, an era in which millions of people found fun and community and enchantment under one boy wizard's thrall.”

― Melissa Anelli

But as time passed, and the last book of Harry Potter was released, my involvement in fandom continued, for it wasn't only Harry Potter that stirred up the passion of fandom in me and the many other strangers I had encountered through the fandom.

First Lord of the Rings, and then Sherlock, and then Doctor Who all came along, each stealing my heart. The joy, the anticipation, the terror, the heartbreak, the sense of community, the feeling of pure aliveness that the fandoms brought was unmatched. I cried all through Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The Lord of the Rings helped me understand how a world torn apart by war could still hold hope and happy endings. I found excitement and community in the Sherlock fandom, and messages of hope for all the universe in Doctor Who. And from these experiences I have concluded that fandom is good, fandom brings people together, fandom awakens our minds, hearts and souls to worlds beyond our sense, and allows us a glimpse of what we are capable of.

 “There's a time and place for everything, and I believe it’s called 'fan fiction'.”

― Joss Whedon

            The fanfiction of fandoms allows us to create in worlds we’re comfortable with, much like the blocks and dolls from childhood pretend worlds. It allows those who would never try their hand at writing to explore what they can do with words in a world they’re read and dreamed about and come to know as their own. Fanfiction has most notably brought the Sherlock community together, with the entire fandom united under a banner of grief after reading Alone on the Water and squealing at the romance in Performance in a Leading Role. Fanfiction allows the story to go on even after it’s over.

            Fandom awakens in me, and, I believe, most of my fellow passengers on this journey through mortality, a passion for life, for others, and for the power of our imaginations and what we can create. Fandom is a support community, a playground, a place for passion and creativity to fuse into discovering eternal truth, and I am proud to be a part of it.

Edelweiss Pirates Excerpt

So many women think rain is romantic. There’s nothing romantic about the rain, really, when you think about it.  I’ve heard so many women talk about how they dream of being kissed in the rain. Dancing in the rain. Having someone confess that they love them while they’re being completely soaked by an absolute deluge.

These women have clearly never done the aforementioned activities. A high school boyfriend of mine, Dan, took me for one of those romantic rain things one summer. I guess his sisters subscribed to the “rain is so romantic” philosophy and told him to take me out in the rain or something. Anyway, we went for a walk, and kissed in the rain, and he told me he loved me. And it was sweet and all, but it wasn’t really that romantic. Less romantic than it would have been if he had just told me in his living room, like he had for the first time. Because the rain just made things kind of awkward. Kissing is so unromantic when there’s water dripping down your faces. Hugs are awkward when you’re both covered in sopping wet cotton. And sure, the smell of rain is nice, but the smell of rain-soaked cotton is not what I like to snuggle into when I hug my boyfriend.

But the worst part was the talking in the rain thing. I loved that he loved me, but honestly, it would have been a lot better if we hadn’t both been blinking as fast as we could, making the world look like a strobelight was on. But with this water falling from the sky, what else can you do?

Don’t get me wrong, I do love the rain. It’s just not romantic to be out in it.

Do you know what is romantic? To be sheltered from the rain, snuggling with your sweetheart, watching the storm. Sitting outside on a porch, a blanket wrapped around you, leaning into the man of your dreams, who doesn’t smell like wet cotton, but smells like himself. It’s romantic to just sit there, the two of you, watching the sky pour down liquid life into the world around you. It’s romantic to go outside for the first time all summer, because it’s finally cool enough to go outside without roasting. That’s romantic.

And that’s what Ryan and I were doing. His mom came outside and watched with us for a few minutes, but she’s seen plenty of rain in her time. I guess Ryan had as well, but he was humoring my amazement at just how long and how hard the rain could come down.

This is something the rest of the Pirates don’t understand. Sure, the mountains are beautiful, wonderful, majestic, glorious, everything that we say they are. But there’s something to be said for the quiet of the rain, falling into the trees that are all around. The rest of the Pirates have never seen a rainstorm go on for hours like this, except for those times in London, Seattle and Tokyo. But it’s not the same, even then. Those times, the city bustled all around us, and the rain was just an inconvenience, not a beauty. We couldn’t exactly have taken time to just sit and watch the rain when we were on tour, and that was probably a good thing. But if we had, maybe the rest of the Pirates would understand just how wonderful the Louisiana summer rain is.

Ryan’s fingers began tapping on my arm. I don’t think he even realized that he was doing it, it was so natural to him. They started out at a decent speed, and then slowed as he dramatically struck chords on keyboard keys that weren’t there. I gave him ten seconds before he jumped up to find a piano, counting down in my head.

Ten. Nine.

I heard Mrs. Waterbury yelp as some pans clattered in the kitchen.

Six. Five. Four.

The pans finished clattering, and I could hear John laughing.

Two. One.

Predictably, Ryan startled and moved to get up. I slid away from him so that he could, and he turned to me, still dazed by the musical idea in his head. “I need a piano,” he said unnecessarily.

“Go,” I bade him cheerfully. “I’ll go see if your mom wants help with dinner.”

Ryan nodded and darted back inside the house, fingers tapping the empty air now.

I sighed happily. I couldn’t help it. I was in such a lovely place, with Ryan’s family, who all liked me, and I liked all of them. Everything had gone splendidly, and there wasn’t a single thing about my life I wanted to change.

But such happiness cannot be kept to oneself, I have found, so it was only a moment before I found Mrs. Waterbury and John and Erika in the kitchen. Mrs. Waterbury had three pots on the stove, and was checking the oven for something else. She had Erika chopping vegetables on the counter, and John was doing his best to annoy her while he rummaged in the pantry for something.

“Do you want some help, Mrs. Waterbury?” I asked, trying not to giggle at John’s frantic head shaking behind his mother’s back.

She returned to one of the pans on the stove, facing me. “Call me Helen, dear – Mrs. Waterbury is my mother in law!”

I cringed. “Right. Sorry. I forgot.” I was not remotely used to the idea of calling someone as old as Mrs. Waterbury – er, Helen – by their first name, but I supposed I’d have to make an effort. “Do you want some help, Helen?” The name felt funny in my mouth, but Mrs. Wate – er, Helen – accepted it happily.

“I’d love some, dear. Could you help Erika with the salad? There’s a good paring knife in the drawer to the left of the sink.”

“Sure,” I nodded. I found the knife, and sat on the stool next to Erika, who slid the cutting board over towards me so that we could share it and nodded towards the pile of vegetables to be cut. I picked up some tomatoes and began slicing.

John gave a cry of triumph and emerged from the pantry, a bottle of reddish stuff in his hand. “Found it!”

“Great,” replied his mother, who beckoned him over, and the two began discussing how much of the mystery substance to put in some other mystery substance. Erika rolled her eyes at them and turned towards me.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “It’s great to finally balance out the men and women.”

That confused me. Why did their male/female ratio need balancing? So I asked her. “Um, why do the men and women need to be balanced?”

Erika chuckled. “Well, before you, Waterbury family gatherings were great, but a lot of times the numbers just didn’t work. Like any time we wanted to play something in teams. Or when the boys went off to be boys, it was a little weird to have it be just me and Helen. But mostly when Simon and Helen and John and I were having our couple time. Poor Ryan was just kind of left there, all by himself. Fifth wheel, kind of.”

“But not anymore?” I asked tentatively.

She smiled. “No, not anymore.”

I tried not to smile too widely as we cut the vegetables, but I couldn’t help it. Just thinking about Ryan made me happier than anything ever. I must have looked ridiculous, grinning like an idiot with a knife in hand, because Erika glanced over at me and giggled.

What? I asked, already knowing that she would laugh at my silly young lovesick self.

Excerpt From Edelweiss Pirates

The lights were shining, bright as ever, as Natalie caught Abby’s eye and inhaled sharply. Abby watched her, anticipating her movement, both of them feeling the identical pulsing in their veins before suddenly, simultaneously attacking their strings.

                The piece was building, the erratic, syncopated rhythm slowly speeding, and the frantic chromatic notes, repeating over and over, growing shorter and tenser. Finally, the group and the music exploded into the final joyous refrain of the song, and Abby felt as if she were flying. Flying on the music, flying like her bow flew across her strings. The feeling continued until the piece ended, and then Abby’s heart landed back on the Earth.

                She panted, exhilarated, and saw Natalie and the others doing the same. It was always like that when they finished a piece: as if they had run a mile, or woken from a nightmare. But playing was no nightmare. It was a dream, the best of dreams, no matter how many times they did it.

                The applause thundered around them.  Still watching each other, the way they had done for years now, the group stood up together, rising swiftly from their seats, instruments still in hand. Abby shook her head out, trying to reorient herself. Her hair danced around her face as she shook her head, and Abby ran her hand through her hair, trying to get it off her face.

                Josh was looking around at them, ready to lead them in their bow. Abby blushed a little as she realized that she was the last one to meet his eyes, and that the whole group had been waiting on her, if only for two seconds. Following Josh, they all bowed swiftly towards the audience. Some of them were standing up, and they were all clapping.

                “Whew,” she heard Chris say next to her, wiping his brown on his sleeve. “It’s hot under these lights.”

                Abby nodded, still breathless from performing. She looked over at Chris, whose curly red hair was even larger than usual. “How’d it go, then?”

                Chris shrugged. “Not bad – although did you see my bow? I broke off a good chunk of hair tonight! Got a little overzealous on that sforzando, I guess. You?”

                “Great. I remembered to cue Natalie at measure 59.” Then Chris and Abby picked up their cellos and followed the rest of the group off the stage, ducking through a door to the backstage that was hidden behind a curtain. All around her, her best friends were rolling their necks, cracking their backs, stretching their arms, packing up their instruments, drinking chocolate milk from an absurdly large mug – all the thing that they always did after a performance. 

                The entire group, as always, was keeping one eye on Natalie. She was their leader. It wasn’t official or anything – she had never been elected or formally declared the leader of the group. She just was. Natalie had an air about her that made other people listen, and she had the natural inclination to take charge. She was also by far the most organized of the group, so she was the most likely to know what was going on at any given time. And so the group watched her as they packed up their instruments. After she had locked her violin up, Natalie called their attention.

                “Hey guys!” she called, as if they weren’t all already listening to her. “That was a good one; we did well. I think they really liked the Vivaldi number – that was a good call, Chris.” She nodded in the direction of Abby’s frizzy-haired stand partner. “So yeah, good job, guys.”

                “What’s the plan for the rest of the night?” called Kayley from Abby’s left.

                Natalie’s eyes rolled back; they usually did when Natalie was thinking or trying to remember something. “We don’t have anything going on for the rest-“ But she cut herself off, turning towards the man who had just come backstage. “Hey, Clark,” she greeted him, “What do we have going on now?”

                Clark looked around at the group, a slight smile on his face barely detectable. Clark was their manager; he had been with them for almost two years now, and in those two years, Abby had only ever seen him in his uniform of baggy cargo pants and Hawaiian shirt save two occasions, one of which had been at his brother’s wedding, where he had gotten the Edelweiss Pirates to break out some of their more classical repertoire.

                “Yeah, you’re free for the night,” Clark announced. “But we leave for Seattle at 9:00 tomorrow morning, so don’t have fun tonight. We’ll meet in the lobby of the hotel at quarter to nine. Also, Listen is doing a feature for the tour, and they want your responses to a survey for it-”

                He was cut off by several groans, the loudest from Randall, who turned from putting his violin away to give Clark a “you’ve got to be kidding me” look. “Seriously? Clark, c’mon, we’ve already-”

                “No, you don’t have a choice, it won’t be that long, and if you put anything scandalous down, I will personally strangle you.” Clark shot a pointed look at Chris, whose guilty smile made the rest of the Pirates laugh. “Alright, go have fun.”

                Kayley let out a little squeak of excitement, but those were so common from Kayley that no one bothered to ask why she was squeaking. Natalie called a “thank you” after Clark, who grunted and waved as he wandered off, probably to find the backstage food supply.

Abby opened her bright red cello case and gently slipped Archie inside it.

Dream House

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a college girl in possession of a good deal of homework must be in want of a way to procrastinate.

That's why I'm lying on my couch, wrapped up in my shock blanket, listening to Taylor Swift songs I've never heard before, watching people play glow-in-the-dark Frisbee, and blogging. And skipping the song I do recognize because it brings back memories of youth Church dances. Holy cow, she's wearing jeans and a hoodie in this video. I thought she always wore pretty dresses. Oh, never mind. There's the pretty dress. Universe can carry on as usual.

I'm really going to write about something other than Taylor Swift music videos. I just haven't figured out what yet.

In desperation, our hero Googles "writing prompts". The internet advises her to write about her dream house. Will our heroine take the internet's advice?
... Yeah, probably.

A few months after Moriah had run her last season writing for Doctor Who, she, Danny, and their kids had packed up and moved from London to Portland, Oregon. I too found myself back in the United States, glad that Moriah and Danny's invitation to spend the week at their new home provided me with an excuse to escape the miserable heat of LA in the summer.

Getting to their house took a while. Living an hour away from the city in the mountains suited Moriah and Danny's careers and stage of life well enough, but they only had to go to the city once a week or so. The commute would have driven daily commuters like me mad before the month was out. The road to the house was lined with astonishingly tall trees, all in their green summer prime. A quarter mile before the house, the road turned to dirt. It was hard to believe that anyone lived in such a wild and untamed place.

My first view of the house was a red brick chimney that jutted out of the roof. As I drove closer, the house came into full view. It was beautiful. The lower half was made of large stones that were all light grey while the upper half was wood that had just a hint of red in it. Large windows reflected the snow-capped mountain   to the west. Sitting in a hammock that hung from below the deck was one of their daughters -had Rose really grown so much in the past two years?-, reading a book.

I stepped out of the car and heard the sound of a brook or creek nearby. Birds called to each other in the trees, making me feel like I was in a "Relax With Nature Sounds" video. The perfect fresh-pine-mountain-scent only added to the feeling.

I had scarcely looked around before Moriah, Danny, and their son John, who had grown about a foot since I last saw him, were all outside greeting me.

This is fun. Perhaps I'll continue it later.

Sitting on the Couch

I'm sitting on the couch in Dr. Baltar's dorm, with Fabio and Indiana Jones - two of Dr. Baltar's roommates. Except for that Indiana Jones just went to take out the trash. Dr. Baltar is doing some stuff on his computer. Fabio's playing with the music - thankfully, we've abandoned the previous unpalatable rock for the much more pleasant Chopin. Now Fabio just needs to pick a song and stick with it.

I've just finished giving Hannah her motivational speech to study, since her finals are coming up. I'm waiting for Aladdin to message me back on Facebook and tell me the story of his fake relationship.

It's not a very eventful Sunday.

I went to Church for the first time at my new ward for spring term. They seem nice enough. The church building was, as usual, freezing. Maybe one day I'll live in a world where the thermostats are not under the control of overweight men in socks, pants, long sleeve shirts, and coats while the women freeze in their skirts, heels, and short-sleeved shirts. But not today.

Dr. Baltar says he's broken "it." What "it" is, I'm not sure. Something on his computer. So that'll keep him busy for a while.

This Chopin is making me want to write a story or something. A love story, of course. Or I could just pin a bunch of stuff on Pintrest. That's usually what ends up happening when I feel to write. As if enough worldbuilding and character development would actually get the thing written.

Dr. Baltar fixed whatever he had broken. Hooray! Sometimes I feel like I'm watching a sports game when he works on computer stuff. I don't have a clue what's going on, but I'm happy to cheer or moan as appropriate when people tell me what happened.

I fell asleep during Sacrament Meeting today during a musical number. Speaking of falling asleep, I'm pretty sure Fabio is just about there. Five magic points says he does. Even though he's in the most uncomfortable position imaginable.

Why do I get so cold so easily? I'm basically always freezing indoors, and always freezing outdoors in the winter. And frequently the summer. I wish my body conducted heat or something.

Fleets and Armadas

In fandom, supporting a relationship between two people is called "shipping" them. The idea of them together is a "ship." I have many ships - so many that I feel the need to a) write them all down to catalog them and b) blog about them.

Ariel and I were recently discussing whether to call our many ships a fleet or an armada. We learned that an armada is bigger than a fleet, and so all our ships together constitutes an armada rather than a fleet. But we both like the sound of a fleet better, and in Battlestar Galactica the entire human race's ships is called a fleet. So we call our ships our fleets.

I call my ships by either names for the ships that fandoms have given (like Harmony, Snarry, or Johnlock) or by just the two names of the characters involved. Ship names are prefaces by either HMS or USS, depending on if the fandom they're from is British or American.

Flagships are my strongest, most proud ship within a fandom. Submarines are my anti-ships, or couples I really don't like together. I have romantic ships and platonic ships (see Heterosexual Life Partners).

In the future, I will probably post about individual ships. For now, there's grammar to study, showers to take, food to eat, bedrooms to clean up, outside to think about visiting, and some running shoes to put to use.

What I Do Instead of Blogging

In my new Management Communications class, we've been assigned to blog every week. When I first found this out, I was super excited, since blogging is already a thing that I do <sarcasm> with alarming regularity. </sarcasm> And then I proceeded to not blog.

Important Things I've Been Doing Instead of Blogging
- Doing homework/quizzes for my accounting class
- Reading my sister's first draft of a new story project
- Making lists of top ten best male voices (Benedict Cumberbatch, David Tennant, Gerry Butler, Aled Jones, Matt Berninger, Sean Connery, Jeremy Irons, Roger Allam, Frank Sinatra, Colin Firth)
- Watching Merlin
- Warring with and cursing the wifi about trying to stay connected to the secure network for more than three minutes at a time
- Catching up on the vlogbrothers videos
- Watching the Lizzie Bennett Diaries
- Finishing a chocolate bunny from Easter
- Researching ways to voluminize my hair
- Spreading my cream cheese with a paring knife because I forgot to buy butter knives
- Pretending that I know what I'm doing at the student fitness center
- Going for mountain drives with friends with cars
- Accidentally making 80-mile detours on mountain drives
- Making pancakes
- Making smoothies
- Avoiding the cold and windy outside
- Checking my grades every hour until they were all posted
- Tumblr
- Sleeping

"For she'll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper."
Leonato says that about Beatrice in the little haha-let's-tell-Benedick-Beatrice-likes-him ploy. I'm not up twenty times a night, and I definitely don't sit in my smock till I have writ a sheet of paper (or blog post). Maybe I should fall in love. Maybe that would make me enough of a lovesick romantic to sit up at night and write about feelings instead of eating uncooked Top Ramen while I watch Netflix.

I'm really not as pathetic as I sound, though. I really do have deep feelings and emotions. And I don't just sit around watching TV because it's something to do. I watch TV for the stories, and all the inspiration and feelings that go with them. TV shows are currently my favorite form of stories because of how much more can be conveyed about a story through video and how long they last. Movies are great, but they're over too soon. TV shows and miniseries are far longer, and I just love having more content. So I get into these great relationships with miniseries and TV shows, and I love them and they make me incredibly happy and I'm just overjoyed to have discovered them. But then they end. Or I catch up and have to wait for more. And that's where I am now.

Sherlock: hiatus until the Second Coming
Doctor Who: hiatus until probably this fall
Downton Abbey: hiatus until who knows when
Firefly: canceled
How I Met Your Mother: waiting until Monday for the next episode
Merlin: doesn't count because I have yet to fall in love with it
Pride and Prejudice: has been over since 1995
Cranford: has been over for years

And even when we get to non-TV fandoms, it looks the same.

Harry Potter: past its heyday, the movies don't cut it, and I don't have the books at college
Lord of the Rings: only twelve hours of content is a lot to be going on nine years later
The Hobbit: doesn't come out for ages
The Hunger Games: don't have the books; don't have money to go see the movie again

And then there's the problem where no matter what I read or watch, I always end up thinking to myself, "yeah, this is cool, but... it's not Harry Potter." Or Lord of the Rings. Or Sherlock. Or Doctor Who. Or whatever. It's the same problem that I have with choirs. I grew up with the two best choirs in the world (Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Cambridge Singers), and because those are my standard, every other choir sounds terrible even if they're really not, just because they're not as good as the MoTab.

Alright Moriah, you've been rambling long enough, now it's time to shut up

Not So Fresh Anymore

Well, I seem to have made it through my freshman year at BYU.

My grandparents moved me out earlier today, and I'm staying with them for a weekend before I start Spring Term again at BYU. I'm excited for Spring Term. I really do actually like learning and classes at BYU when they're not horrible Gen Eds like Physical Science.

I did get an A in Physical Science, though. :)

I've said goodbye to the people I won't be seeing for a while. Saying goodbye to Sirius Black was hard, but we did get a picture together.

Allyson helped Nikki and I get all packed yesterday for our checkout, and we never would have made it without her. She's a darling.

Last night, I went to the new Nicholas Sparks book-turned-movie with some kids from my ward as a last huzzah. The movie was absolutely awful, but it was good to see everyone again before we all went our separate ways. (Cue that Journey song.)

Nikki and I left this morning. We were very good roommates, and I'm glad that we wound up in the same room. She's great.

After hauling all my stuff to my grandparents' house, my grandparents and I went to a wedding reception for a couple that they knew through their Japan connections. The couple had started dating in high school and had waited for both of them to serve missions before finally getting married. They made an adorable couple. 

Freshman year was overall brilliant, and ended very well. But now, as my mother said when we were discussing how I'm done with science classes for the rest of my academic life, "Holy buckets, Moriah! Moving on to greener semesters!"

S1E1: Rose

Here's a new thing I'll do: I'll liveblog/review Doctor Who as I rewatch it. Starting off at the beginning, in 2005.

Ahh, I missed this version of the theme song. Christopher Eccleston! Billie Piper! The Surfboard Logo!

Oh, this music! It's so season one! I love it!

Okay, who costumed this episode? Honestly, what is Rose wearing? And her hair is all poofy.

Oh, and there's our first shot of Mickey. The one that started my dislike of him.

Thank. Goodness. For that man. Whoever he was. The one who made Rose go back and give that back of stuff to the guy we never meet. Wilson, apparently, is his name. The one who led Rose to the Doctor.

This episode is a little slow in starting. Episode one issues and all.

Billie just looks and sounds so different. I guess she grows up a lot as we film? Or her character does?

I love how Rose is just so human here. She does exactly what all the humans for the rest of the entire show do when confronted with aliens: think it's a joke, then get scared, and in trouble, and get saved by the Doctor.

They held hands! And my ship was launched. And there was an awful lot of running.

Okay, they've got fantastic chemistry. I never noticed that before. Christopher and Billie go so well together. Instant connection. And it's fantastic how Rose is instantly okay with the whole "Run for your life" concept. It's like she was born to be the Doctor's companion.

FIRST TARDIS SIGHTING!

Oh, Jackie Tyler, I've missed you!

I think part of why I don't like Mickey very much is that Rose just doesn't seem nuts about him. It seems like he annoys her. And he irritates me.

Man, Rose's room is pink.

Jackie Tyler, I adore you. You are hilarious. And I love how attracted to the Doctor you are.

Did the Doctor just start singing Guys and Dolls? Fantastic! And he's making puns. Man, he's hilarious! I love his sense of humor. And his accent.

I love that Rose never says "Doctor Who?" I hate that joke. And I love how persistent she is. She is honestly following the Doctor all over just to find out what's going on. And the Doctor is letter her, because he's lonely. And he needs her.

She's already started calling him "Doctor." Fantastic. And they're holding hands again!

I love the Doctor's theme music. So much.

FIRST TARDIS SWOOSHING NOISE!

Wow. Mickey's computer. It's so.... 2005. And the search engine she's using.

Since when does Mickey drive a yellow bug?

I'd like to think that this Clive guy ends up at Torchwood. He's giving us a wonderful introduction to the Doctor. And the one constant companion: death. That's fantastic.

Yes, the overuse of the word "fantastic" is intentional here. It's a season one thing.

This episode could also be called "Mickey Smith and the Worst Special Effects Ever."

Seriously? How does Rose not notice that her boyfriend has suddenly turned into plastic?

Rose knows the Doctor is dangerous. And she still goes with him. She'd get along very well with John Watson.

First thing the Doctor does when he sees Rose with Mickey is try to kill Mickey. My ship is unsinkable. And it's her first time in the TARDIS, and he's already explaining everything to her.

Continuity issue: doesn't Mickey live with his grandmother, not his mother, like Rose is talking about?

Angry Doctor, I like. Calling us stupid apes. Oh Rose, how you'll change him. Oh Doctor, how you will be changed.

I love that Rose follows him. She doesn't run away from the scary stuff. She follows him, because she can tell that he needs her. And for her, even if it's dangerous, exciting is better. Man, they're a lot like Sherlock and John.

Oh. I forgot. Clive dies. I guess he's not going to work for Torchwood, then. :(

Rose Tyler, saving the day from Day One. I love Rose Tyler.

THEIR FIRST HUG!

YES GO WITH HIM ROSE GO WITH HIM HE'S YOUR SOULMATE GO GO GO!!!!

What if the Doctor hadn't come back for Rose then?

AND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING IN THE UNIVERSE BEGAN.

Ladies and gentlemen, this has been Doctor Who - Season One - Episode One: Rose.

Wholock Survey

Because procrastination has hit yet again.

1. Sherlock or Doctor Who?
I honestly can't pick one.

2. Moriarty or the Master?
Moriarty, definitely.

3. Benedict or Martin?
Ugh, such tough questions! Benedict.

4. Favorite Doctor Who companion?
Anyone who doesn't say Rose has no soul.

5. Favorite Doctor?
Uggggh. I love Eccleston and Tennant so much. Both?

6. Favorite Sherlock character?
Umm... all of them? John? Mycroft? Sherlock? Molly?

7. Favorite Sherlock episode?
I CAN'T DECIDE!!!! Something in Season 2.

8. Favorite Doctor Who episode?
The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances

9. Favorite Doctor Who monster?
I've had the most nightmares about the Vashtanarada, so..

10. Least favorite Sherlock character?
SEBASTIAN.

11. Least favorite Doctor Who character?
Joan Redfern.

12. The Doctor or Sherlock
NOOOOO I CAN'T

13. Rose Tyler or Amy Pond?
Rose.

14. Least favorite companion?
That Astrid Peth girl that showed up for one episode.

15. Thoughts on Mycroft x Lestrade.
I don't ship it. I don't get it. At all.

16. What do you think of Molly Hooper?
I freaking love her. I am so proud of her. I want John to marry her.

17. Do you believe in Sherlock Holmes?
YES

18. 10th Doctor or 11th?
Ten.

19. 9th Doctor or 10th?
Okay, I just can't choose. Unless we're talking about hair.

20. 11th Doctor or 9th?
9th.

21. Thoughts on Johnlock.
Fun, but I would be upset if it actually happened.

22. Sherlock cast or Doctor Who cast?
Sherlock, just because it's more constant.

23. Favorite Sherlock actor?
Benedict.

24. Favorite Doctor Who actor?
Either David or Billie.

Freemanrage

I accidentally watched too far into Doctor Who and watched one of the episodes I was supposed to watch with Mom and Ariel.

 

I can't find a good time to watch the other Doctor Who episode with Mom and Ariel.

It's the last David Tennant episode, too.

People are annoying and say stupid things.

And also people try to talk their politics at me.

Reichenbach Anthem

Woke Up New - The Mountain Goats

1. This song is the Shelockians' theme song for The Reichenbach Fall.
2. Ever since hearing it, I've been a little obsessed with this song. And the Mountain Goats in general.
3. Ariel also pointed out that this is a wonderful Doctor/Rose post-Doomsday song.

Alma 38

1 - Alma promises his son Shiblon that if he keeps the commandments he will prosper in the land.
2 - Alma is happy the Shiblon has been faithful so far, and hopes that he will continue to be so.
3 - Shiblon has brought Alma much joy because of his diligence and patience with the Zoramites.
4 - Shiblon was freaking STONED for the word of God. Now that's dedication.
5 - If you put your trust in God, you will be delivered out of your trials and afflictions.
6 - Alma only knows what he's saying is true through the Spirit.
7 - Alma mentions that the Lord has called him to "stop the work of destruction" and that he saw an angel.
8 - When Alma saw the angel, his soul was harrowed up until he cried unto Jesus to find mercy.
9 - Christ, the light and life of the world, is the only way to salvation, and he is the word of truth and righteousness.
10 - Shiblon should continue to teach the word and should be diligent and temperate in all things.
11 - We should not be lifted up in pride or boast of our strenth/wisdom.
12 - This verse is great, I'm just gonna put the whole thing here: "Use boldness, but not overbearance; and also see that ye bridle all your passions, that ye may be filled with love; see that ye refrain from idleness."
13 - Don't pull a Zoramites and pray to be seen/heard by men, but to honestly converse with God.
14 - When you pray, pray for forgiveness and for your fellow men.
15 - Alma tells his son to "be sober" and go teach the word of God to the people.

Avoiding Homework

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an Econ student with a good amount of reading to do must be in want of a way to procrastinate.

And what better way to do it than answering dumb questions from Tumblr? So here goes.

Why my last relationship ended:
Don't know, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with how I wept at the end of Reichenbach.

Favourite band:
Can I just pick Tchaikovsky? Seriously, I can't decide on a modern one. Those are fleeting. But Tchaikovsky is my longest ardent love.

Who I like and why I like them:
Nobody because... well, I dunno. I just don't. For the first time since I was thirteen, nobody gives me tummy butterflies.

Hardest thing I've ever been through:
Sophomore year of high school. That stuff was worse than Nyquil.

My best friend:
My sister. I know it's cliche to say, but that girl is unbeatable.

My favourite movie:
The Lord of the Rings. Extended Editions.

What I want to be when I get older:
A member of the force that keeps the world turning by keeping the financial records accurate.

Relationship with my parents:
 

One of my insecurities:
Tendency to completely fail at social interactions.

Favourite place to shop at?
The grocery store?

My eye colour.
Green.

Why I hate school:
Potential to destroy my life. Being surrounded by idiots. Paying tuition. Pretentious kids. Sleep deprivation. Science labs.

Relationship status as of right now:
Single like a slice of Kraft cheese.

Favourite song at the moment:
I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers

Age I get mistaken for:
People are always surprised that I'm old enough to be in college, let's leave it at that.

Where I want to be right now:
The Tardis.

Last time I cried:
When I watched The Reichenbach Fall.

Concerts I've been to:
Wizard rock and classical ones.

How am I today?
 I don't like Mondays.