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Jan. 21st, 2005 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zarahemlaSo yeah. That last post, just a rant. I didn't really need advice -- none of you are really qualified -- though I did get some good info from Aspen about glycogen.
Next: a poll!
Yesterday at K-Mart, I bought a new kind of Skittles that are "smoothie" flavored. I like to try all new kinds of Skittles, just to see what I think.
[Poll #422503]
And finally, a small fanfic! The first one I haven't struggled with in, not coincidentally, about 9 months. It's kind of stream-of-consciousness, but that's also good, because I've had lots of trouble with that too. It's about the West Wing, week before last episode in New Hampshire, Josh & Donna.
Title: It's not a thing
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Fandom: West Wing
Rating: PG
It's not a thing
-----------------
And *wham*, it hits him just like that -- the need to leap over from the doorway and smack Will right between the eyes. But of course he doesn't, because this is politics and the fighting's all done with words.
Of course right now he's basically mute. The canned office heat stifles all words out of him and all he can do is stand there while she talks, stand with his mouth half open and try not to make insane gabbling noises.
You could have warned me, he doesn't say. Will, you facetious two-faced weasel, you could have warned me.
Donna finishes talking and there is some kind of silence and he realises that she has noticed him. He sees something queer in her eyes, something like an apology, but she doesn't say she's sorry like he wants her to. She just says hi, with a smile like she's never seen him before, and he hates the fact that Will is watching them, *hates* it.
"Hi," he says back reflexively. How had he not known she was in New Hampshire? How had he let things get so far off track? By this time she was meant to be back in Santos HQ, moving lifeboats and oars to the storage room. Or back at the White House, filing his stuff and making sure his life ran on track, and is that sexist? Or dominating? Because he doesn't mean it to be, he really doesn't, it's just that Donna ran his life, his whole freaking life, and without her he is a Post-It note stuck on the inside of a book that no one opens.
Will says something and he says something back and Will says something else and Josh has no idea what he is saying, no intention of listening -- two-faced weasel -- so he pushes away from the doorway and heads down the hall. He hears her step behind him and slows down reflexively and once again, doesn't beg her to come back to him.
"Let's not make this a thing," she says. Her hair is a little bit staticky from her sweater, and it flies around her head. The apology is still sitting in the back of her gaze.
"It's not a thing," he says, and he beats it the hell out of there before he can do something that will make tomorrow's paper. In the car he swats at the wheel savagely, making a U-turn that is probably illegal in some obscure New Hampshire way. Somehow, this is all Will Bailey's fault.
"Could have warned me," he says in the direction of Will's office. "You could have said something." But he knows that Will thinks, just like everyone thinks, that he's fine with all this, that he let Donna go and gave her his blessing to do whatever -- even help run the campaign for Russell. Will thinks he's stupid to let Donna go. Hell, everyone up to the President thinks that. And if they knew the truth -- that he drove her away with negligence -- they would tell him it was his own damn fault. And they'd be right. And he needs her, he needs something from her like a vampire needs blood. It's that visceral. He doesn't want to think further than that, but that's what lost her in the first place.
And now there's Santos on his plate, and he can't get through to the man, and it's making him think that leaving his comfort zone was the wrong idea. He makes a sharp turn onto the state road and rolls his window down halfway. The cold immediately shocks his brain and he can stop for a minute, stop and calm down and start thinking like Josh again. This is not a thing. It's not a thing. He can handle this like he handles everything else. Step one: Act cool. Step two: Make clear to Santos who's in charge. Step three: Keep acting cool. Step four: Get a palm pilot or something, to keep track of the steps.
The motel looms up again in front of him, and he takes a deep frigid breath. "It's not a thing," he says, and even half means it.
Next: a poll!
Yesterday at K-Mart, I bought a new kind of Skittles that are "smoothie" flavored. I like to try all new kinds of Skittles, just to see what I think.
[Poll #422503]
And finally, a small fanfic! The first one I haven't struggled with in, not coincidentally, about 9 months. It's kind of stream-of-consciousness, but that's also good, because I've had lots of trouble with that too. It's about the West Wing, week before last episode in New Hampshire, Josh & Donna.
Title: It's not a thing
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Fandom: West Wing
Rating: PG
It's not a thing
-----------------
And *wham*, it hits him just like that -- the need to leap over from the doorway and smack Will right between the eyes. But of course he doesn't, because this is politics and the fighting's all done with words.
Of course right now he's basically mute. The canned office heat stifles all words out of him and all he can do is stand there while she talks, stand with his mouth half open and try not to make insane gabbling noises.
You could have warned me, he doesn't say. Will, you facetious two-faced weasel, you could have warned me.
Donna finishes talking and there is some kind of silence and he realises that she has noticed him. He sees something queer in her eyes, something like an apology, but she doesn't say she's sorry like he wants her to. She just says hi, with a smile like she's never seen him before, and he hates the fact that Will is watching them, *hates* it.
"Hi," he says back reflexively. How had he not known she was in New Hampshire? How had he let things get so far off track? By this time she was meant to be back in Santos HQ, moving lifeboats and oars to the storage room. Or back at the White House, filing his stuff and making sure his life ran on track, and is that sexist? Or dominating? Because he doesn't mean it to be, he really doesn't, it's just that Donna ran his life, his whole freaking life, and without her he is a Post-It note stuck on the inside of a book that no one opens.
Will says something and he says something back and Will says something else and Josh has no idea what he is saying, no intention of listening -- two-faced weasel -- so he pushes away from the doorway and heads down the hall. He hears her step behind him and slows down reflexively and once again, doesn't beg her to come back to him.
"Let's not make this a thing," she says. Her hair is a little bit staticky from her sweater, and it flies around her head. The apology is still sitting in the back of her gaze.
"It's not a thing," he says, and he beats it the hell out of there before he can do something that will make tomorrow's paper. In the car he swats at the wheel savagely, making a U-turn that is probably illegal in some obscure New Hampshire way. Somehow, this is all Will Bailey's fault.
"Could have warned me," he says in the direction of Will's office. "You could have said something." But he knows that Will thinks, just like everyone thinks, that he's fine with all this, that he let Donna go and gave her his blessing to do whatever -- even help run the campaign for Russell. Will thinks he's stupid to let Donna go. Hell, everyone up to the President thinks that. And if they knew the truth -- that he drove her away with negligence -- they would tell him it was his own damn fault. And they'd be right. And he needs her, he needs something from her like a vampire needs blood. It's that visceral. He doesn't want to think further than that, but that's what lost her in the first place.
And now there's Santos on his plate, and he can't get through to the man, and it's making him think that leaving his comfort zone was the wrong idea. He makes a sharp turn onto the state road and rolls his window down halfway. The cold immediately shocks his brain and he can stop for a minute, stop and calm down and start thinking like Josh again. This is not a thing. It's not a thing. He can handle this like he handles everything else. Step one: Act cool. Step two: Make clear to Santos who's in charge. Step three: Keep acting cool. Step four: Get a palm pilot or something, to keep track of the steps.
The motel looms up again in front of him, and he takes a deep frigid breath. "It's not a thing," he says, and even half means it.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-21 11:46 pm (UTC)Perfect Josh voice.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-24 04:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-21 11:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-24 04:25 am (UTC)