aruan | be a dear and pass the Azkabancakes, would you?

walkingshadow, we're hoarding that joke until the day we die. A week in fandom culmination post, ahoy!

So it was a year ago Friday that we were fighting hard to keep down dinner from the vicarious butterflies in our bellies waiting for JC's first solo show in San Diego to begin. Am a bit sad to be spending my first December in three years without a last-minute finals-week jaunt to the West Coast. However, this also means that instead of stashing the slightly extra holiday money for plane fare and incidentals, I can buy things for people. How novel!

In fannish news, I don't understand the hullabaloo over JC and Chris being friends and their families spending Thanksgiving together. We do remember they all lived within a couple of blocks of each other in Orlando at some point, right? And that JC and Chris are often in that zip code still, and that they did that thing, you know, something with pop music and choreography, in that group? Brain's like Swiss cheese these days. Eh, no matter - the

valiumbitch Thanksgiving saga was much more entertaining, thanks.

However, fandom drama is excellent fun, and it's nice to see popslashers all het up again over real and meta news alike.

- JC hanging out in Miami over Thanksgiving weekend (grr! Notice, Chasez!) then jetsetting to London (lucky bastard - on a related note, did you know the Eiffel Tower now has an ice-skating rink?) for a collaborative excursion between manwhoring it up around Orlando clubs while Eva has sleepovers with her producer, and my god the drama and won't someone think of the children who might have had a perfectly perfect education in PR!
- Justin skinny dipping with the extras on his video set and shopping for Dodge trucks with Cameron in the same week! Also, he's now credited as "rapper Justin Timberlake" who is to play an alcoholic billionaire, and oh what a world. Every day is one step closer to nirvana.
- Lance making fast friends with stuffed ponies and getting photographed with a cigarette! Oh, and on that note, so it's surprise to no one, I'm defriending the first person who says they're disappointed with him because of it within earshot of me. For the record, smoking is bad for you, etc. ad nauseum, but my first reaction? A very loud gasp that rose in pitch to a keen. Yeah. Seriously though, as my favorite sensible redhead drama queen said, check the way he's holding it. That's not a smoker's grip - it's that of one who is holding it for someone else. And honestly, big fucking nothing if he was smoking it. Doesn't mean he's lighting up whenever the breeze isn't too strong to blow out his lighter or going to clubs to enjoy the contact high, and you know, even if he were, he's a big boy perfectly capable of making decisions, which ultimately do factor in the fact that he'll most likely be singing at some point in the future sooner rather than later, not to mention all that space jazz he's still hoping to do. Goodness.
- Robbie Williams and Eminem are mates! After meeting in an LA gym! For reals!

And okay, there are the Britney pregnancy rumors. *sigh* Honestly, that K-Fed boy repulses me in so many ways that my misplaced fondness for La Spears raises its hackles and wants to whisk her away to a place where the past year was one big, bad dream so she can be happy with someone who doesn't make her look and act the way she has been. And who deserves to contribute half the genetic material to her inevitably ridiculously good-looking, limber babies. I want her to be happy for some eminently irrational reason, probably having to do with

callmesandy or

stubbleglitter, and have judged Husband #2 to be found wanting.

In fic news, there's new Tiff Rawlins and Genee Li and Synecdochic, a Harry/Snape rec from Miranda (*checks for toads falling from the sky and rivers running red with blood*) and I might have recced this before but you're obviously reading this and not this as we speak, and that's just silly. Also, everyone should have the

fluffontop girls friended, because then you could read this entry and be the special kind of warm and fuzzy inside that I am, thinking about Professor R.J. Lupin and Gary Oldman films.

Windows XP continues to grow on me with the little details. The thumbnails on picture folder icons. The option to set any image on my computer as the desktop in the drop-down menus. Being able to search inside documents if you can't remember the title. We're getting there, me and Douglas. The OS performance and stability are undoubtedly better, in any event.

The five men I'd sleep with no matter what meme, minus the flowers. I've never liked cut flowers - watching them die is terribly depressing.

- Colin Firth (the man is absurdly perfect in my eyes)
- Colin Farrell (he'd fulfill that latent I-want-to-fuck-a-really-famous-person-just-to-have-done-it thing)
- Clive Owen (but only if it's a little rough and he says nasty things the whole time - why yes, I did see Closer this weekend, why do you ask?)
- JC Chasez (he'd make good on the song, I just know it)
- Zach Braff (yeah, he's the wild card on this list, but funny guys do it for me in a sort of enormous way)

Interestingly, were I to do a list of five fictional characters, none of the men above play any of them. *looks at list* It's thoroughly fascinating that it's comprised largely of men quite a bit older than myself (Avg. age: 34 / Jules: 22), yet I think things I know will be held against me when my sins are read when new pictures of Dan Radcliffe surface. Even if he is a sloucher.

You know, having all the canon material readily accessible in media-based fandoms as opposed to RPS fandoms, where the subjects can be anywhere with anywho doing anywhat while drinking something you'd never in a thousand years guess, is a convenience not overrated. With media-based fandoms, it's right there, probably advertised on the side of his/her glass. Which I realize gives you more and less to work with, but it's a fuck of a lot easier to attempt anything with a shred of credibility.

Quotes of the Day:

Also, when you're done reading about the Battle of the Bands, the author has written this other kickin' story where Harry Potter is a Quidditch Star and beleagered by total hos, right? Skanks! Mean skanky bitches! They're wicked mean to Hermione, and Hermione spends a lot of time going to parties and feeling frumpy and thinking "I am so fucking frumpy! My crush on Harry Potter, gorgeous Harry Potter is just doomed and lame and sad! God, why did I wear these PANTS! I hate these goddamn skanks." and Harry Potter spends a lot of time thinking "I'm so lame. sigh. blah. why does that girl have glitter on her face? Why is she bothering me all the time with her weird dresses that are nothing like what Hermione would wear, and too short? Why is her hair so straight and shiny and smooth and not like Hermione's? Whatever, I'm so tuning her out. Look at Hermione! She's so cute! Those pants are my favorite pants of hers! CUTE! God, she's so amazing, and I'm a freak! a sad sweaty perverted freak-man!"
-

helenish

"Watched Lost. Loved Lost. Felt manipulated by everything DomCharlie did because they so clearly cater to the fangirls that they may as well let the man tell stories about Elijah Wood, but hey, I'm easy, so: awwww."
-

smartlikejustin

Femalefirst reports that Dame Maggie Smith finds it hard not to burst into laughter when she is playing the part of Professor Minerva McGonagall in the Harry Potter movies.

She blames the films' scripts for giving her and her co-stars the giggles. Maggie explains her dilemma: "It's hilarious. You feel such a berk.

"There's this wonderful first assistant and he'll be saying, 'Now Harry goes down among the dragons.' And you have to hold yourself because if you lose it for a second you're sunk."
- from The Leaky Cauldron [Ed. Note: I take such high personal pleasure at being NOT ALONE in this.]