the Dalaverse

More crossover fic. The end of this part is lifted directly from a "Buffy" episode, by the way, and there is a really obscure reference to the original 1992 movie; notes at the bottom.


( As You Were, VII )

Notable Things I Have Seen Today:

• There were seven or eight mallard ducks hanging out on the pond. Jack and James, our two resident white ducks, circled around, floated into the middle of the mallard shindig, and proceeded to chase them all off. I love the duck duo.



• A leaf was hanging, presumably by a thread of a really strong spiderweb, about three feet below and out from the nearest tree branches. It looked like it was spining in midair.



• On my way back from the parking lot, I saw a hawk, or a falcon, or some kind of large predator bird. It was soaring over the quad, and it was beautiful.

Also, movies finally came. I watched the first episode of "American Dreams," which I had never seen all the way through, and this is show is just good. It's not me being all faux-nostalgic or fangirling Michael Brooks or being completely charmed by Meg -- it's well-written and brilliantly acted and emotionally resonant without being cloying or pat or condescending. Helen and Jack in particular stand out for me this time around -- each of them could've been turned into cookie-cutouts of the meek housewife and the gruff manly father, but instead the characters are completely believable in their flaws and their strengths, and Gail O'Grady and Tom Verica are just knocking it out of the park in every scene (but, y'know, usually pretty damn subtle about it). They're complicated, and they're real.

I still think Brittany Snow as Meg is one of the cutest things I have ever seen, and Roxanne is so my TV best friend. Girl is cool. Beth too, especially her standing up to Jack. Will and Patty aren't in this first ep much, since most of the drama is concentrated on Meg's and JJ's problems, but the young actors do a very good job as well. I didn't realize there was no Henry yet -- some other guy was working at the store. No Henry is a tragedy, but no Sam is even worse. Eagerly awaiting the introduction of Henry and Sam.

The ending montage-to-music isn't as strong as the one in the Valentine's Day ep (with My Favorite Song That Nobody Else Has Ever Heard, and OMG Meg curling up in Jack's arms *SOB*) or the one with the beautiful cover of "All My Loving" (I think it was the funeral, but I can't remember), but it was still very effective. A good, clean version of "Amazing Grace" never fails to bring me to tears, and though all the reaction shots at JFK's death are something you expect from anything set in that year/era, by the end of the episode I'm already invested in these people, so it feels about as fresh as it possibly can.

Goes without saying that it's got the best soundtrack on television. The contemporary acts can be really gimmicky, but every now and then they're great (Ricky Fanté as Wilson Pickett, Duncan Sheik as Bobby Darin, India.Arie as Nina Simone, Kelly Rowland as Martha Reeves. And yes, there are terrible casting choices too -- Nick Lachey, Nick Carter, Vanessa Carlton, the sisters Duff, Jennifer Love Hewitt (TWICE ::shudders::), Bonnie McKee (who I've never heard of, but who did a terrible, screechy Janis impression late last season), but they're so awful they're funny, and the rest of them sort of fade away in my memory. Ocassionally Daddy will grumble about them using music earlier than it was actually released, but you'd have to be an absolute stickler to be really bothered by that.

Most of its ratings problems have to do with a bad timeslot and poor promotion on the part of NBC, which is such a shame. I just want more people to watch it, dammit, so it will be on longer, and because it's a fantastic show. So: watch "American Dreams," on NBC Sundays at 8:00 EST, beginning September 26th.

::steps off soapbox::

Watching "The Duel," just after the part with, you know, the duel. And man. I was expecting slash, but this is like the gayest thing I've ever SEEN. Complete non-slashers could pick up the subtext (emphasis intended). Helen freaking Keller could pick up on it.

Horatio is teh pretty, Archie is teh cute *happy dance*

The word of the night, boys and girls, is 'fuck.' As in:

Only hit one light going up 235 -- fuck yeah!

Where the fuck is the fucking parkway? (once parkway is found) Where the fuck is the fucking hotel? (once hotel has been found, dinner has been eaten, and it's time to go home) Where the fuck is the fucking exit?

Who fucked with the lane dividers on Route 4? What fucking lane am I in?

If I don't dig my nails into this steering wheel, I'm going to be blown right the fuck off the bridge into the Chesapeake Bay.

Turn your fucking brights off, asshole!

Where the fuck is Indian Bridge again?

It is too fucking dark out here.


It is Parents Weekend, you see, and I met my parents at their hotel in Solomons Island. Needless to say, neither half of the journey went particularly well (except for making it past the red-light trap on 235. Fuckin' A, baby).

This is really pretty silly. I've only been at school three weeks, and I'm a sophomore to boot. But it got cancelled last weekend because of Hurricane Isabel, and I'm an only child, so they get to do this once and once only. Doesn't mean they're dragging me on that stupid skipjack cruise tomorrow, though.

Back to lovely Horatio, then some writing, then bed, then waking up way too early on a Saturday morning.