Fantasy archetype...

I'm not sure how predictable it was, but this result for this quiz seems to list many of my ( favourite heroes... )

Torchwood: the reasons I love my friends, #748...

When I was watching the Torchwood pilot last night with my friends and we got to the scene where Owen uses his potion on the girl in the bar and her boyfriend, I was wondering what their reactions would be. Gasps of horror for the date-rape horror of it? Comments on what a bastard Owen is?

Nope. One friend screamed in glee, "Alien aphrodisiac! I want some of that!" and everyone agreed. They laughed in delight when the boyfriend grabbed Owen and kissed him - and these aren't even my slash-fan friends. These are the ones who are straight.

I think I'm collectively proud of them.

Revision...

It's never too late--in fiction or in life--to revise. - Nancy Thayer, author

Don't encourage me. I am a compulsive reviser. I even go to great (obsessive) care to go back and revise single words in stories that I have already posted to multiple sites if I think another word is better. I have trouble stopping at three or six or nine drafts of things. At some point, one has to stop, and move onwards.

And when I do, I'm still thinking, "Just one more little change to make it better...."

Bits of stuff, recs and otherwise...

I made lentil soup. I can almost smell it through the sensory deprivation of my congestion. Nice. I don't usually think of lentil soup as exciting, but my standards this week are minimal.

The big thrill of the day was make a sortie to Costco to buy chicken for supper. maaboroshi, who is as sick as I am (but with a slightly different virus), came with me and maaseru. We bought almost nothing. I ate a hot dog - I love Costco hot dogs - and I could even mostly taste it. It was delicious. Then we shared some vanilla ice cream - one serving split three ways - it was really too much for me but I could actually taste the cream and that was great. One of these days I'll be back to real food.

Costco ice cream is a substance that terrifies me. Something that delicious must be demonic.

I was griping yesterday that even if you don't eat anything but chicken broth for four days because you're sick, you don't lose weight because you're expending no energy either. Why is it that sinking into the sofa and watching Torchwood isn't an aerobic activity? I got a nice surprise when I weighed myself today, though - I've lost five pounds. And that's despite a few Christmas treats over the past few weeks, like that Belgian chocolate that Sherwin gave me that kept ambushing me so ruthlessly at work. I hope everyone else has finished it off by the time I get back to work tomorrow - not that I'm in any state to approach it just now, but, alas, my appetite is bound to return some time.

The weight loss makes me feel a little better about having done no exercises since last Monday. And no, crawling slowly to the bathroom every once in a while doesn't count, either.

I did dance today: one of my many New Year's Resolutions, to dance every day, has been unfulfilled because I wasn't feeling well. For an obvious reason, the tune of A Nightingale Sang in Berekely Square wouldn't leave my head, so I gave into temptation and started playing dawn_e_h's beautiful music vid version of it while dancing around the living room.

I feel happy.

And speaking of music vids based on "Captain Jack Harkness", I quite liked this one by spankmonkeyjack. Different. Somewaht... ironic. Sets up an interesting and disconcerting cognitive dissonance in my mind because the Torchwood imagery and theme is so much the opposite of homophobic.

I was reading A Hand in a Jar again, finding myself with a strange love of Torchwood handfics. I thought I'd already recced it but don't see it among my earlier listings.