generaljanuary: (keep on smilin)
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This writer's block has an insane timing! June 24th is St-John the Baptist day, Quebec's National holiday. And I know I heard a few wild things about the 4th of July in the US,  but nothing beats la Saint-Jean in the National Capital! I had an awesome night and wasn't all that socially awkward, which was great. I got home at seven in the morning and collapsed in my bed, wishing a semi-comatose Seb good luck on his day at work. ( The poor, poor bastard. *snerk*)


We are suppsed to go camping in Old Orchards Beach in a few weeks. With his family, which is awkward on many levels. One of them being that he's gay, his family knows that he's gay and I'm just this fat, pleasant excuse for a tag-along. Oh and his father is my super boss. He doesn't work at my store everyday, but he is the director for our franchise or something and that just freaks me right out. But still, I can't wait. Seb's been better than great in the last few days and he used to be estranged with his family, but now they're better and I'm glad for him. and his family is always so pleased to be spending tim with him.
generaljanuary: (cartoon brian)
I won the Placebo fan review competition! My tiny tidbit is now on their official website and my prize is in the mail. I'm glad about the prize, but I'm more psyched about the fact that among thousands of sentences they chose five and that mine is one of those.  :D

Fannie Dubé. Aged 21 from Québec, Canada
"In the past Placebo sought to create and explore wounds. Battle For the Sun cauterizes them with the fire of a renewed energy"


http://www.placeboworld.co.uk/mynews.php?id=77

(And now the whole wide world knows my full name. Haha, I thought that was the best-kept secret on the net.)

(Sebastien accused me of being over-enthusisastic about this and I had to bite my fingers to stop myself from telling him to stop pissing on my parade. My life is pretty sucky, can't I celebrate when something special happens?)

G'night.

Jun. 2nd, 2009 12:44 am
generaljanuary: (spn: my brother)
Seb:* laying in his futon, watching House dvds*
Me:*sitting in his big-ass brown chair, reading Supernatural fanfiction on his laptop*
Seb: *turns of fTV and bedside lamp* I'm turning in, good night. *hides face under covers*
Me:... Did you switch which side of your futon you rest your head on? I thought you slept with your feet that way?
Seb: Well, I don't really have a pre-definite position.
Me:*wide-eyed in the dark* ...Wow. I couldn't do that.
Seb: I know! *chuckles*
Me:What?
Seb: You're compulsive about your sleeping habits. You can't sleep if you're missing one of your six pillows.
Both: *laugh*
Me: ...I'll have you know that I've been doing without one of my pillows for a few days. I saw a spider crawling on it and I can't bring myself to drag it back from the floor to my bed.
Seb: * laughs at me some more*
generaljanuary: (dont let go)
Title: An Old Hand-Me-Down Jumper (Or Something)
Author: [livejournal.com profile] fanny_moon
Word count: 5500
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character/Pairing: Sirius/Remus, James/Lily, Peter
Rating and warnings: NC-17 for rampant homosexuality, cigarettes, language, implied sex, frottage and handjob.
Disclaimer Harry Potter Belongs to J.K. Rowling, I am merely playing. “Frankly Mr Shankly” belongs to The Smiths, I am merely inspired.
Summary: Theme 19: Itch. Upon their return from a nine months long trip they took right after graduation, Sirius and Remus are unsettled by the drudgery of real life.
Dedication: This is my tribute to all of you fandom celebrities, who keep our ship healthy and alive. Don’t make me list names, I’m sure you guys know who you are.
A/N: I was greatly inspired by “Frankly, Mr. Shankly” by The Smiths so I had fun inserting references to the song in the fic (apart from the italicized excerpts, of course). Do tell me if you track them down.
Welcome to Padfoot and Moony's decadent den of disastrous disorder! )

x-posted to my journal, [livejournal.com profile] remusxsiriusand [livejournal.com profile] 64damn_prompts
generaljanuary: (organic coast)
I don't think I've ever mentionned my love for classical music. (I don't remember if I even listed it in my interests, oh well.) I love classical music and I think Beethoven's ninth is te greatest song ever to have been written.

Also, I'm in love with Montreal's Symphonic Orchestra's Maestro; Kent Nagano.


This:
Welcome, Maestro Kent Nagano, to Montreal. We already love you. Mostly because you have rock star hair, and because you get so intense when you conduct that you look like a Samurai warrior in an action movie.
was sais about him when he first arrived in Montreal in 2006.
Switch "samurai warrior" for "Seme" and "action movie" for "yaoi manga" and you get an inkling of why I fell in passion with him at the beginning. But oh! Intense is really the word for him. That hair of his, slighly streaked with grey, flying about as he savagely gestures with his whole body. And his proud smile when he turns to salute the crowd after a song. And how he wears those glasses when he reads speaches for the press. And his adorable, heavily accented French. (I love someone who puts an effort into learning French. God knows Montreal has become so depressingly bilingual)

So when I learnt that the Montreal Symphonic Orchestra was going to be playing the ninth at the Bell Center to comemorate the 100th anniversary of Montreal's hockey team Les Canadiens and the 75th anniversary of the MSO I hopped in a car with a few friends and made the trip.

It was memorable. I cried most of the way through. The music goes right through my body straight to my heart and soul, which tremble and sing as the chords of the violas, violins, harps and cellos. *content sigh*

Also, we slept in a charming youth hostel. It was my first experience and I'd go back anytime. We were roomed with a guy from France who had just arrived in Canada and had a funny discussion about Quebec's inferiority complex. We taught him swear words and such. (Yes we speak french, but no, we don't swear like the French. ;) )
generaljanuary: (I <3 bowie)
Free studies are starting to look alright to me. I used to be pretty sure I didn't want to enter university, but the more I think about it, the more I think going back to college with no idea what's waiting for me after is bit of a no-go. I've been whining for years that I've become a drifter because I spent all my teens thinking I would most likely not live past twenty and therefor had no actual plan for the future.
So... I think I'm going to look into financial aid (my dad always said I wouldn't have to keep paying him to stay home if I went back to school, but I know that he couldn't afford losing the feeble amount I provide him each month...)and enter university in free studies in order to gather enough credits to enter an actual uni program. I'm thinking... teaching. French or English, most likely. In secondary school(high school) or cegep (college). I dunno... I just really, really badly want to do something concrete other than working my crappy, CRAPPY job. Seriously. I want to feel like I'm actually worth something. Like I'm a pro-active part of society, or whatever. I just don't want to be that ridiculous college dropout wasting away in a fast-food place forever.

I've got to hunt down new comms, my regulars have gone almost dead in the last week or so.
generaljanuary: (dont let go)
Well here's what's been going on with my life recently...
My favourite band released a new song in anticipation of their new album due for early june:

I've been feeling pretty "European" as my mother put it. Complete with French movie, French novels and beret. (kidding about the beret. I do own a few but they're all dusty.)
That second vid is not safe for work.Unless your workplace encourages the viewing of French young men frolicking on a bed while signing sad love songs.

That's from "Les Chansons D'Amour". A strange little musical that starts off with a guy involved in a ménage a trois with his girlfriend and another girl he works with and that ends up with that guy being with another guy. That's my kind of flick. :p

I've been reading Philipe Besson, who has a knack for writing short and painful novels.

There's also this one particular manga that's claimed my attenton over at yaoi_daily.


Here, Spring just took over everything. It's bright, cloudless, blue sky after bright, cloudless,blue sky. Some days I look up and I just can't breath. Spring and skippy yet profound The Smith's song "Mr. Shankly" inspired me a HP fic I hope to finish before the end of April.

Everything seems to be going just fine, but the paint is chipping away pretty fast. *half smile*

STACY!! Where are you? What's going on with you, honey? I'm worried.

Come home

Feb. 12th, 2009 07:51 pm
generaljanuary: (how long ago)
So it finally happened. I wished and wished and wished for it to happen and it finally did. My sister came home and introduced her son to my father. It`d been... oh, two and a half years, I think, since she`d been here. He hadn`t even seen her while she was pregnant. He would have never known that he was a grandfather if I hadn`t told him. My position in their conflict had always been: It`s none of my business. But they both are cowardly stubborn fools. They would have never talked again. I know it. So in the end I had to shove things along.
I didn`t exepect a joyous family reunion. It was awkward and sad, like most things are, now, in this house. If my sister didn`t like it here when she left, I don`t know how she could like it better now. My clean and happy childhood house has become a filthy den full of disreputable people and their direputable activities. No place for a child, she probably thought. Not that she would be one to judge. Her boyfriend and father to her son is someone I would call disreputable too, but who am I to judge.
I`m glad that I got to show my godson around my bedroom. He jumped on my bed and played with my dog. Watched Sebastien play video games and gushed over an old Spiderman poster.

The only person who walked out with a smile was the baby, ever happy to explore new locations and play with new people. But I believe that in the long run, things will be better. I have to believe that.

Mais...

Feb. 8th, 2009 01:03 am
generaljanuary: (keep on smilin)
Mais je serai toujours la pour aller te chercher ta bouteille d'absinthe quand tu auras besoin de "vomir ta vie" parce que "les gars c'est tous des salauds". Et oui, je t'avais dit qu'il avait une face de crosseur, mais non, je n'ai pas toujours raison. Ne laisse pas une autre blessure te priver du bonheur que tu merites. *gros calin*
generaljanuary: (Default)
I've got a lot of silly stupid things to write about so if you are in a hurry feel free to skip my sure-to-be overly long post and carry on with whatever it is that you are doing.

I burnt both my hands in separate incidents today at work. They've got these painful, ugly blisters and I can't remember if they hurt less or more if you burst them. One would think that someone who burns herself as often as I do would remember something like that, but no. I don't.

Sebastien is sort of pampering me and I can't bring myself to tell him to stop. He'll be hurt, he won't understand and I won't want to explain. It would go something like this:
Fannie: Stop acting like you're my boyfriend.
Sebastien: What?!
F: If you do everything for me I won't be able to stand on my own when you leave.
S: Pish posh! I'll never leave!
F: Stop saying that. One day you will get a boyfriend and I will expect you to care more for him than you do for me.
S: I don't need a boyfriend, I've got you. Besides, you might get a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Whatever.
F: I won't.
S: (now he'll look sad, he always does when I say something that makes him see just how low my self-esteem can reach) That again!
F: That always. This is not about my personal drama, this is about you being too kind and me being almost selfish enough to let you do it. I know you're only trying to be a good friend but I want to be a good friend too. I'll never learn to do things on my own if you're always there to do them for me.
S: But I don't feel like I have to, I just like doing stuff for you.
F: This conversation is making me sound like Jennifer Anniston's stupid character in "The Object of my Affection".
S: Yeah, whatever, if you feel inspired enough to write imaginary arguments in your livejournal go write a play or something.

... anyways.

A childhood memory came over me today for no reason at all. I remember being with my mother at the drug store and she spent hours choosing a lipstick. She'd test them on her hand, see what the colours looked like. She tried all sorts of reds, pinks and mochas. My mother was never an elegant lady. She was a stay at home mom, she'd usually only wear make up if we went out to the mall or the restaurant, but as a little girl, that fact didn't enter my mind as she asked my opinion about certain colours. After an eternity and a hand smeared in a true pallet of lipstick shades, we left the store, both beaming, with this precious, tiny tube of bright, outrageously red lipstick. I don't think she ever wore it. Maybe she thought she couldn't pull it off. Or even worse, maybe inside, she felt like the kind of woman who could pull it off, but when she saw it on herself in the mirror she felt actually really silly and frustrated for ever thinking that she could be this fabulous, daring woman. I know for a fact this has often happened to me. I'd spend the longest time applying make up just to look at myself in the mirror at the end of it all and bursting into frustated, self-berating fits of self-esteem crash, complete with tears and throwing stuff around. In my teens, my mother gave that tube of lipstick to me. I wonder if it was a thoughtless act or if she actually felt like she was giving away her hopes of ever being the kind of woman who can pull off bright red lipstick. I wonder if she was hoping I'd grow to be he kind of woman she knew she could never be. Well, mom, I do wear crazy shades of lipstick, but as you know I am not a case of study in self-confidence, I hope you are not disapointed.

I have to apply to go back to college. I have to. If I don't, I fear I will just... crumble up into ashes and disapear completely. This year, I really feel that it's now or never and if it's never, the shame would overwhelm me and I'd never be able to look anyone in the eyes ever again. Expecially not my poor disapointed dad.

I was thinking earlier today that there are rooms in my house that I haven't been in for years now. Which brought on the thought (of which I've been aware for a very, very long time, but shied away from) that my house hasn't felt like home for many, many years and yet I do not feel any need to move out, or be elsewhere. I do not feel the need to be anywhere at all, most of the time, anyway. I do not really recognize my needs anymore. They're sort of swallowed up in strange mood waves and expectations and lethargicity. The only need I know to be entirely true is the need to fill every available inch of my mind with absolutely anything. So that I don't have to think about real stuff for too long. I don't know if I'm glad or sad to have finally found out why I've always been so eager to read every book that's ever been written and watch every movie that's ever been made.
generaljanuary: (organic coast)
Les cicatrices que tu portes
Et celles que tu a causées
Les flammes que tu as éteintes
Et celles que tu as allumées
Tes yeux qui ont vu trop de splendeurs essoufflées
Et la longévité éreintante
D'une existence accidentelle
Drapée malgré elle de beauté,
Celle que tu n'as jamais su reconnaître,

Cachent un coeur que tout a blessé
generaljanuary: (keep on smilin)
*grins like a fool*
Sebastien threw me a surprise birthday dinner party. Lots of people showed up. I was really glad and surprised. I have this ridiculous notion that I like everyone much more than they like me, so to see so many unexpected, beloved faces made me just a tad emotional, once more this year.
I usually hate surprises.
They've all been planning this for two weeks! I can't believe it.

Last year, he did something similar, threw me a surprise birthday party and I must admit I cried a little. I couldn't believe people had actully come to celebrate my insignificant birthday.

This year, I'm somehow glad to say that the astonishment was little less intense. I take it as good news concerning the state of my self esteem. :)

Just... Thank you. :)
generaljanuary: (organic coast)
Today I went to visit Laurie, my sister, with Maman. My 18 months old godson, Zack, had been sick for a few days and Maman was worried Laurie was also catching it, so we visited to make sure she was fine and had no trouble taking care of him. My sister is a proud stay at home mom. That's the way she and I were raised and she intend to do the same for as long as her and her boyfriend can afford it, which will not be for very much longer, sadly.
Turns out both Laurie and her son were doing just fine thank you very much, to my great relief. She even offered to dye my hair, a task much overdue.

I wanted to post really badly about my day. Re-reading my paragraph, I can't really see why since there obviously wasn't much to tell.

But really, the love in my heart swells to such dimensions when I think about my sister and my godson, such a protective, overpowering kind of love. It fills me whole, it clogs my throat, it spills over the brim. There is not enough of me to contain this tenderness, this prayer begging for their happiness to be everlasting.

So really, my day was filled.


"Pomme! Pomme!" goes Zack while I try to take his picture. <3
generaljanuary: (fannie)
So happy new year. May you keep the ones you cherish close and together.

In other news, I know this journal has become of bit of an angstfest in the last month and I apologize. (The holiday seasons makes me morose, or so I've heard) I promise to do better. I have many hopes for the new year. I know it may look like I'm purposefully asking to be disapointed, but this year I will try to take matters in my own hands, instead of just getting pushed around.

Oh, and I know Seb didn't mean "Everything you touch becomes damaged and I don't want to be part of it." when he said "I don't want you to put tape on my Guitar Hero strap because I don't want it to become like your eyeglasses." (which are held together by tape). I do, truly. But... :/
generaljanuary: (x mas)
Wow. Worse Christmas of my whole life. And Hey! Look! It isn't over yet.
generaljanuary: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd] I'll try to do a top ten list of my best moments of 2008, because with every year that ends comes the fear that the next will be exactly the same.

10- Trying another job for one day. It was scary and I ended up not taking the job, but I did it.
9-Getting Internet back.
8-Spending a few days at my uncle's cabin with some of my family on my father's side.
7-Stealing Hawksley Workman's necktie in Montreal in February.
6-My surprise birthday party. Thank you Seb, it meant a whole lot more to me than I've let you know.
5- My one week trip to Cuba with 20 of my co-workers
4-Seeing Paul McCartney live in concert. The dream of a lifetime.
3- My Godson learning to say "Aunty" and using it as much as he possibly can.
2- The Stars concert. I don't give a shit that nothing came out of it. I felt normal for the first time in my life.
1- Meeting Hawksley Workman in Montreal in November.
generaljanuary: (x mas)
I'm not big on Christmas. My family situation is... strained. The Holiday season has been a parade of disapointments for a couple of years so now I dont expect anything and just grit my teeth through December.
What I am big on, though, is making the people I love happy. So I do buy presents. But it's torture. I haven't bought anything but a few toy cars and socks for my Godson. Other than that, nothing. I'm due for a huge shopping trip today.
The one I always want to please the most, my Papa, is a very simple man with no passions or passtimes. The Canadian Tire gift card is kinda getting old, but whenever I try to buy something different (clothes, tickets to go see comedians) he doesn't seem all that pleased either. I didn't spend Christmas with Papa last year so his present has been collecting dust under the living room table, unopened, for a year now. Isn't it the most ridiculous thing. To love someone this much without being able to share much more than futile small talk.
Other than that, there is my beloved sister whose needs will always be much greater that the meager means I have to provide for her. She didn't choose the easy path, but she chose it herself so I try to help her the best I can.
My Maman is always the easiest to please. I'm not all that worried about her.
Sebastien should be easy as well. He thinks he's all mysterious and that I'll never find something to give him but we're always shopping together and I know of at least 50 things he's gushed about but hasn't bought.
And that leaves out my Godson. Tiny savior of my soul that he is. My sister tells me he runs around my sister's appartment daily going: "Tatie! Tatie! Ta-TIIIE" Which would be pronounced 'Tatee' and means 'Aunty'. There is just no way to describe how my heart swells when he wraps his tiny arms around my neck for one of his rare hugs. His grand-parents (on his father's side) are spoiling him rotten with toys so my sister asked me to buy him socks and sweaters... Oh well.

Posting on LJ as a way to procrastinate. Good way NOT to get my Christmas shopping done. *sigh*
generaljanuary: (I <3 bowie)
Past week's been pretty weird. Been writing weird stuff, been working weird shifts and been feeling generally weird. Oh and Anxious. I guess I should have seen it coming though. My stomach had been doing some weird flip flopping for a couple a day, and I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Because it had been so long since it happened. And Sunday while I was at work it just full-flegedly exploded. Panic attack. Long and drawn-out. Started out tiny and bearable. Got worse. Then a little better. Then completely out of control. Then bearable again. I spent the worse of it collapsed in the restroom, hoping no one could hear me gasping for breath through the door. I think my co-workers saw that I wasn't feeling right because they let me leave a little early, which should have been a relief, but I got scared that they'd heard me and had another horrible episode in the restroom. I know some of them heard me that second time but they were graceful enough not to mention it when I left hurriedly. At first I could see no aparent reason, I thought it was the bear thing again. (See, when the college psych explained anxiety disorder, she said to imagine I was walking through a forest and met a bear, my brain would send the message to my body to work faster so that I could run away or something. Anxiety disorder is just your brain seeing bears where there are none. So your heart beats faster, and your breath comes shorter and you feel very very scared. Usually for no reason at all, or for reasons that do not necessit such measures.) But then I thought about it and I think maybe money's just a little too tight for my liking. Maybe the prospect of Christmas is just too much for me right now. Maybe my bond with each of my family member is stretching too thin for my comfort. Maybe I'm just too used to burying things that bother me so that I can't even recognize that they are bothering me.

But mostly, now, just tiny flipflops as I walk through overcrowded places. The veil of weirdness seems to be lifting a little. :)
generaljanuary: (gay sex?!?)
So. A majority for Jean Charest's Liberals, huh? I'm disguisted with my province. Not because they elected the liberals, I expected that much, and in and of itself, it doesn't bother me all that much... What maddens me is the ridiculous participation rate: 57,3% . It's not as if it was hard or if they had to go very far. They just can't be bothered. Oh and it was cold outside that day. Cold?!? I mean when did that become a rightful reason to deny your civilian right and duty. Democracy is a privilege that barely over half of they Quebecois seem to grasp and I am disgusted. How do we get, as a province, to bitch and whine about independency if you can't be arsed to choose our own government.

I am also saddened by Mario Dumont's departure as the leader of the Action Democratique du Quebec. I fear this party will lose all of its remaining supports if they make a faux-pas (which is most liekly to happen) choosing their new leader. I'd vouch for Sylvain Legare, but I don't think he will be interested in the position seeing as his son was born on the day of the election, I think he'll want to spend some time wit his family.

December 8th was also the anniversary of John Lennon's premature death 28 years ago. My heart clenches when I think about it. Such a loss.
Paul McCartney really did make me cry this summer when I saw him live. "And now, I sing this song for my frind John." He said solemly before he offered a beautiful rendition of Give Peace a Chance.

Edit: Oh, and the Icon is totally unrelated with my post but I just fished it out of my really old icon den and it never fails to make me laugh. ^_^

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