Lot 666, ladies and gentlemen!
Off to work - was actually glad that I work today for once, because it means they won't phone and harass me to pick up shifts on my days off like they have EVERY DAY THIS WEEK. I am not joking. I have barely enough time to work on all my papers as is without their bloody harassment.
Joan Kinney/Margaret Schmidt for url_girl | 383 words | Queer as Folk
It was so different, making love to another woman. Joan didn’t like to think of it as “making love”at first. It had been about comfort then, acting out on impulses that she understood more than she had preferred to acknowledge. Now...it was still about comfort, still about striking out blindly at every failure neatly wrapped up and presented to her by the world - forty-something unhappy, cold years, the inadequate, lukewarm shadows of affection reluctantly given by her children, or rather, by Claire. Brian reviled her and made no secret that his life operated outside the realm of her involvement, her concern. He didn’t want her in his life and she had already lost him long before she learned why.
But now there was another dimension to these secrets whispered against skin in the dark cool of her bedroom, a shivering magic in the touch of another. Her fingers gripped the immaculately starched sheets and biting her lip, her other hand reaching out to caress the curve of Margaret’s cheek, trace the lines crinkling at the corners of her dark eyes, eyes that looked into hers and said , I love you, I *understand* you as no one ever had or even bothered to try.
Jack, looming over, grunting as he moved, half-asleep and stinking of alcohol as she lay passively beneath, waiting for him to finish - but he was dead and it seemed now like another lifetime. How could it have taken her entire life to learn that what she had needed all along was obscured behind veils of forbiddance and untouchable thoughts? It was only Margaret who had shown her how to break those walls and live in wonder of the freedom beyond.
They moved against each other quietly in the dark, hands reaching to touch, treasure, hold dear. It was wrong, it was evil, yes, that’s what Joan had always believed. But it was so beautiful, to love and be loved like this - she didn’t think that she could, knowing this, willingly give it up. And so she clung all for all that she was worth and prayed for every extra minute that God would grant them, every spare instance and day. There was time enough for learning about truth and love, and forgiveness still.
In other news, HOLY ANKLESOCKS BATMAN, the current bid for the Rick Mercer Liberal Party leadership kit on Ebay is almost $25,000 dollars. Um. Dude. That's like, the CBC's funding FOR A YEAR. :D
I should SELL MY SOUL on there and maybe these bidders would pay for my university education. Seems like they'll buy anything.
...except Stephen Harper.
10:56pm: $16,000,000.00. FUCK.
Joan Kinney/Margaret Schmidt for url_girl | 383 words | Queer as Folk
It was so different, making love to another woman. Joan didn’t like to think of it as “making love”at first. It had been about comfort then, acting out on impulses that she understood more than she had preferred to acknowledge. Now...it was still about comfort, still about striking out blindly at every failure neatly wrapped up and presented to her by the world - forty-something unhappy, cold years, the inadequate, lukewarm shadows of affection reluctantly given by her children, or rather, by Claire. Brian reviled her and made no secret that his life operated outside the realm of her involvement, her concern. He didn’t want her in his life and she had already lost him long before she learned why.
But now there was another dimension to these secrets whispered against skin in the dark cool of her bedroom, a shivering magic in the touch of another. Her fingers gripped the immaculately starched sheets and biting her lip, her other hand reaching out to caress the curve of Margaret’s cheek, trace the lines crinkling at the corners of her dark eyes, eyes that looked into hers and said , I love you, I *understand* you as no one ever had or even bothered to try.
Jack, looming over, grunting as he moved, half-asleep and stinking of alcohol as she lay passively beneath, waiting for him to finish - but he was dead and it seemed now like another lifetime. How could it have taken her entire life to learn that what she had needed all along was obscured behind veils of forbiddance and untouchable thoughts? It was only Margaret who had shown her how to break those walls and live in wonder of the freedom beyond.
They moved against each other quietly in the dark, hands reaching to touch, treasure, hold dear. It was wrong, it was evil, yes, that’s what Joan had always believed. But it was so beautiful, to love and be loved like this - she didn’t think that she could, knowing this, willingly give it up. And so she clung all for all that she was worth and prayed for every extra minute that God would grant them, every spare instance and day. There was time enough for learning about truth and love, and forgiveness still.
In other news, HOLY ANKLESOCKS BATMAN, the current bid for the Rick Mercer Liberal Party leadership kit on Ebay is almost $25,000 dollars. Um. Dude. That's like, the CBC's funding FOR A YEAR. :D
I should SELL MY SOUL on there and maybe these bidders would pay for my university education. Seems like they'll buy anything.
...except Stephen Harper.
10:56pm: $16,000,000.00. FUCK.