{ yesterday's tweets. }

• 07:51 Class at 0845 today, through to 1300. Morning air is really fucking gorgeous. #
• 08:12 rocking to Rilo Kiley = win #
• 12:42 David Lynch's Lost Highway = weirdest movie ever. My brain is bleeding. #
• 15:03 Perusal of style guide FINALLY reveals the secret behind capitalising titles. However: also fucks over my use of quote marks. #
• 15:52 popcorn = smashing snack #
• 18:18 *insert whinging here* #
• 19:16 Ok, so, roasted spuds it is then. (When in angst, head for the carbs.) #

{ bloody mary's lacking a tobasco. }

Post o' angst = deleted. M = trying again, this time with 99% less melodrama. Rewards = Doctor Who and BSG (I'm fairly easy to please on most days.)

Shake me some pompoms, yo.

--

So, I wrote me some Terminator-verse fic the other day. I'm feeling somewhat buoyant because it went down well. I'd forgotten how nice it is to get feedback, especially the positive stuff. I don't often notice when I don't get comments - too par for the course - but it is lovely and ego-stroking when I do.

--

Hmm. So. My laptop works very well. But. It's cracked? By the right hinge as I look to the screen. Anyway, that crack has resulted in a stress crack on the other side of the hinge, and if that breaks through, it's going to come off. Currently I have to keep my screen pulled forward otherwise the hinge starts pushing up the panel above the keyboard. I. Yeah.

--

Again, a gorgeous morning. If the weather stays like this, I might take time to go for a walk.

{ you say that love is blind, well I say open up your eyes. }

Taking a break to rec an excellent NCIS gen fic that I read today. Tony and Ziva on a mission quite unlike any other, one that reveals more than a little about both of them. Tony is sharply rendered in this fic, and in a way that is both sympathetic and realistic. What won it for me, though, had to be the characterisation of Ziva who is strong, and human, and - as we've always known - knows the fine, fine line between right and wrong.

Vacationing in Tel Aviv by laytoncolt @ nixa_jane

Tony sets his passport on the bedside table and pushes the curtain aside for one quick glimpse of the view. Ziva is un-strapping the weapon on her thigh with one bare foot up on the bed, smiling slyly at him from behind the strands of her curly hair. "It is beautiful here, is it not?"

Tony's eyes are guarded as he glances around the room. He is still getting a feel for this job, this new person he has been asked to be. Ziva's there already, because this is who she really is.

"It's not what I expected," he says.

Ziva drops her gun onto the bedspread with the kind of indifference only those that have killed can have. "You know, this whole city used to be only sand," she says.

"We're not very good at empty spaces," Tony tells her, as he sits down beside the gun on the bed. "We've always got to fill them up with something."

It's non-linear, but excellently executed, and the ending will hit you square in the chest. So, so good.