lines and lines and lines

Ahh, sleep deprivation. It's good for the soul.

It's my way of merrily trying to break past patterns of behavior. I could always tell I was getting depressed by the amount of time I wanted to sleep. I'm kind of a slave to inertia, usually--when awake, I prefer to stay awake, and when asleep, I prefer never to move again. When I started a downswing, I went to bed earlier and got up much later, and took naps. Now I aggressively pursue wakiness with a kind of scary vigor and almost fall asleep during important meetings. I mean, my head slipped off my arm and came perilously close to hitting the table. It was surreal.

Luckily, the Regional Director was there, and unmarried, and I have a crush. He's probably ten years older than me, but he has all the marks of someone I will have a hopeless crush on. A little dorky, wears jeans well, brilliant, great sense of humor, glasses, spectacular public speaker, amazing energy level, and charisma that makes you want to agree to everything he says. Or makes me want to, anyway. I have no clue how to flirt with someone like that. I have no idea how to not look like a five year old, actually. And God, I'm not a troll, so would it *kill* him to just give me a second look? Please? I'm *right in front of him*. And I'm *not ten*. Stop being so freaking indulgent when I talk.

Hmm. Right. I sound like a teenybopper. This is so sad.

The ten-years-older-thing is throwing me a little, since I tend to fall for younger, but what the hell, we're all about breaking patterns these days.



Anyway, the meeting was to discuss issues with the new program at work. Boring boring boring for those not using it, riveting to us, except coolness that I was one of the two chosen to represent my office, and the chick that came with me made the announcement that I was a trainee for advisor, so I got congratulations from everyone and amusement from the state coordinator, who knows and works with my mom.

*Everyone* knows or has worked with my mom--when I was interviewed, the darn PM was waxing lyrical about my mom. Even the Regional Director, who smiled and called her a fine woman and mentally patted me on the head for following in Mommy's footsteps. Yes, he just reduced me to a ten year old. I'm a puppy for that smile, though. Aww, the state chick said, no surprise you're promoted, we all saw it coming, which considering I didn't, kind of *weird*. I'm beginning to get why people have such high expectations of me. I have massively scary shoes to fill.

It is weird, though. She's been in the agency for years, but it's only now I'm getting what a huge influence she was and is, in policy and in the creation and implementation of the new program. She was a policy specialist before, which means she knew adn interpreted state policy for others. People sometimes tell me how she could make anything make sense, just off the top of her head, because she knew so *much*. I always knew she was smart--she's incredibly, terrifyingly smart, in the theoretical and the practical, with imagination and drive and the ability to make something imaginary become real. So yes, it's fascinating to have a professional level of understanding of what she is. When I start this job, I'll have a personally professional understanding of what she was for years. It's not a little humbling.



Favorite Lines

I would respectfully like to ask for recs for fic, except I'm not sure what kind. I'm not even sure what fandom. And I was thinking of Silvia Kundera's little fic summaries she did last year--anyone have a link to those, btw?

So, instead--I want your favorite lines. You know the ones. The ones that stuck with you and moved you and you loved, loved, loved. That you remember forever after. Yes. *Those*.

Mine are here. Somewhere in my LJ, I swear, I did another set, but damned if I can find it, and it's nowhere on my harddrive that I can find.

So. Anyone?

Comments

Re: An Incomplete and Somewhat Random List of Fic Quotes...

[josselin.livejournal.com]

(continued from previous comment)

After about five minutes, which is, I'm pretty sure, as long as he'd let me suffer; I started walking towards his voice. He was still at the campsite, and I came up behind him, smiling. Fucking smiling. Until he turned around.

I don't know if I could describe the look on his face in words. I might be able to draw it, but I'm not sure I'd want to. He'd kill me, for one. And for another...really not pleasant. I've never seen such raw fear. I think it made my heart stop for a second. Then it turned to anger- the difference in expression was subtle, but unmistakable- as soon as he registered that I was standing there in front of him, probably with a stupid smirk plastered onto my lips.

"Where the fuck have you been? Did you hear me calling you?" His voice was terrifyingly harsh and cold. I had no idea what to say to explain myself.

Maps and Legends (http://www.geocities.com/blaurosen/new_page_1.htm) by rachelanton73 and blaurosen

The movie is forgotten, and the tequila is quickly disappearing. Justin doesn't notice how quickly the tequila is disappearing until the bottle is empty, and he has to get off his ass and get the whiskey from the kitchen. He leaves Brian and Daphne sitting cross-legged on the floor telling dirty jokes and giggling. When he comes back, Daph is sitting close beside Brian and he's murmuring into her ear.

Brian is such a shameless flirt that Justin's not really surprised. He sits down close on Brian's other side, feels Brian's arm slide out automatically and wrap around his waist. He hears snatches of their conversation - the words 'dildo' and 'Mexico' and 'twelve' - but can't be bothered listening to the story. He's pretty sure he's heard it before, so he just takes the whiskey to his lips and feels it burn and slide down his throat.

He watches in fascination when Daphne starts rubbing her fingers over the cowry shells that line Brian's wrist. Her glittery blue nails slide over the pale flesh of Brian's palm, and Justin sees their eyes meet. Smiling and laughing, like they're still sharing the naughty joke. He feels Brian's fingers sliding under his flannel pyjama shirt, and has to kiss him. His lips press against Brian's, and he tastes tequila and whiskey and lemon, cigarettes, the faintest trace of marijuana. When he pulls away, Daphne is gazing at them with wide eyes, her fingers still tracing the lines of Brian's wrist.

Juicy (http://www.splinter-moment.net/narcissism/home.php?x=juicy.html) by soundczech

And yet, the way he smiles at me in meetings sometimes. The way he sighs after he comes inside of me. The way he slides his loofah over my back in the shower and talks about confidential office politics while he does it. The way he takes me to dinners at his favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants and walks me through the best areas of the city. The way he looks into my eyes while he fucks me hard enough to break me.

I got the job and the fuck and that’s exactly what Brian didn’t want.

Frankly, he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who lets this sort of thing slide.

This has to stop before he fires me, or worse…hates me.

There’s only one little problem. I think I love him.

Where There's Heat (http://www.mercuryrisingfic.com/Heat.html) by negativeerin

(continued in next comment)

Re: An Incomplete and Somewhat Random List of Fic Quotes...

[josselin.livejournal.com]

(continued from previous comment)

They were in the pool, Justin leaning against the wall and my dad in front of him, kind of lightly pinning him there with an arm on either side of that wall. There was a bottle of champagne by the side of the pool and two half-filled flutes next to it and some olden-days jazz music playing on the sound system which pissed me off. The last couple of times I had people over, Dad said the sound system wasn't working. What a fuckin' liar!

The words didn't register at the time, but I heard them talking as I moved closer.

"I can still fuck you all night long."

"Then quit talkin' about it, Mr. Kinney and get to it."

"You don't want me talking about how slick and tight and hot your ho..."

"Aw, Jesus! You're naked!" I squawked when I was finally close enough to see.

Dad and Justin both jumped a foot. "Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck are you doing here?" my dad yelled. Justin's eyes were wide with shock, but a second later he was laughing his ass off.

Growing Up Kinney (http://toolunaticsnwon.com/html/myrna_s_fiction.html) by myrna1_2_3

"Why is my arm sticky?" Brian held up his right arm as best he could, considering that his limbs felt like they'd all been broken off and reattached with scotch tape.

Justin frowned. "You don't remember?"

"If it's something embarrassing, don't tell me, and forget I ever did it."

"Okay," Justin responded quickly. "But you're going to have to find the two other guys and make them promise too."

"Two other guys?"

"And the midget," Justin said as he moved closer, his face against Brian's cheek, and one arm stretched over his chest. "And the goats."

Wild Fantasies (http://bj.bandofbuggered.com/fantasies.html) by valereix