MOOP!

There is a forward to the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy specifically on the subject of having adventures. It says: Don't. Ever. While you may think you would enjoy gallivanting across planets, running away from the worst the universe has to offer, outsmarting, outbluffing, and outfighting aliens from a hundred thousand million different races, the truth is most people much prefer to stay at home, or in a nice well-made spaceship, and drink a good cup of tea.

But if you can't get the tea, you might as well.

Every once in a great while, I am driven to reread something I have written, and I find that I can be an _excellent and enjoyable writer_! Which is not to say I wouldn't take an editor's sledgehammer to my works, but it's very reassuring to find reminders that I Don't Suck at this, I just need to get my damn act together and DO THE THING.

The above quote is from my Hitchhiker's Fanfic, The Cold Sands of Anatidae. It is fluffy, and cute, and quite rough in points -again, sledgehammer. And just enough of it gets the voice entirely right that I think my H2G2 peeps should go read it, even though it's several years old at this point.

~Sor
MOOP!

So, last night Racheline linked to the most amazingly ridiculous fashion trend ever: pinstripe suits where the pinstripes are actually comprised of words, small enough to not be immediately noticed.

I. Covet.

Everything to do with this idea, I like. I like suits, I like words, I like secrets, and I adore the concept of being read. So basically, this is the intersection of everything I want in the world, and if I only had a spare 13,000 dollars (note: Did not add a zero) I would be pouring over ideas until I could think of something perfect for my suit to say.

At any rate, she asked people to offer what they want their suit to say, and clearly more importantly, to offer what the suits of various fictional characters would say. Someone else offered Zaphod --"GALACTIC PRESIDENT, BABY!"

And so I promptly committed fic.

---

TITLE: "Trying for Title Eight"
RATING: G
WORDS: 356

***

No one in the galaxy could pull of a purple suit with blindingly sublime green pinstripes. Fortunately, most people didn’t try. Unfortunately, Arthur was currently sharing a spaceship with one of the fools who would –he had been reading the guide when Zaphod made a triumphant entrance, posing to emphasize the canary-yellow cravat that finished the outfit.

“What on Earth are you wearing?” Arthur asked, wishing rather fervently that Zaphod hadn’t lost or broken every pair of Joo-Janta Peril Sensitive Sunglasses on the ship.

“Oh, Earth-man, cool, yeah! You wouldn’t believe how mind-bogglingly expensive these threads were, but look at the colours, man! Hoopy yeah?”

Arthur stared bleakly. “Yeah?” he offered tentatively, wincing as Zaphod launched over the couch to sit next to him.

“Well just check out the best part!” Zaphod chuckled, thrust an arm under Arthur’s nose, and smiled broadly. He seemed oblivious to the fact that the colours were not so much ‘clashing’ as ‘having declared war to last for generations’. Arthur felt his eyes start to water as he stared in horror at the little green letters crawling along the purple wool.

“Zaphod, your suit has words on it.” he managed to explain, wondering if he could get a headache by staring too long, or maybe if this was another one of those moments where he already had a headache, and just hadn’t noticed yet.

“GALACTIC PRESIDENT, BABY!” Zaphod exclaimed, waving his arms in a grandoise fashion. He thrust the other arm under Arthur’s nose, and continued “And the pants say “BEST BANG SINCE THE BIG ONE” -did you hear about that, Centri’s such a nice girl. I’m still trying to decide on the vest, I can’t choose between “COOL ENOUGH TO KEEP A SIDE OF MEAT FRESH FOR A WEEK” and “SO HIP I HAVE TROUBLE SEEING OVER MY OWN PELVIS”. What do you think, Earth-man?”

Arthur stood, suddenly very badly craving tea, or really, any excuse to extricate himself from the conversation. “How about “seven-time winner, worst-dressed sentient being in the universe”". As he stalked from the room towards the kitchens, he could hear Zaphod call out behind him:

“That’s no good –I’m going for win number eight!”

---

I'm torn. On the one hand, I want to keep figuring out what the perfect ideal ridiculous suit would say¹. On the other...

Man does this make for awesome fanfic drabble. I've got a bit of Roxy Wasserman percolating, and someone was pointing out how perfectly Lucius this is.

What would your suit say? What would the suits of the characters you love say?

~Sor
MOOP!

1: "PINSTRIPE" is a pretty excellent suggestion if you're going for only one word, and of course "MOOP!" is the first thing I think of for things like this. I would basically eat a baby to have a suit with the full text of "Torn Apart and Devoured by Lions" which is such a great story from Machine of Death. Someone in the comments of Rach's post suggested the digits of pi, as many as would fit, which makes my eyes go wide and my brain go "want!"

There's a lot of good stuff out there. Fun little mental exercise!

THOUGHTS WHILE PACKING:

1548:

Man, my folder of worship is getting *awesomely* full. One Comedity print, original art by Randy Milholland, Randall Munroe, and Jeph Jacques, a random commision of a dinosaur I bought at AnimeBoston, Hiro's milk mustache ad, the picture of me that Dominik used as a print for his portfolio, and my still alive index cards.

And that's not counting the Maryland folder of worship which contains an obscene amount of KattersArt, and my original sluggy art.

(For reference, the folder of worship is basically full of everything that goes on the wall of worship. So, not real posters, but Other Cool Things. I should put the ST article I ripped out of a magazine in there too.)


1557: Dude, that's James Bond? What the hell is James Bond music doing in my iTun...ohyeah. Thanks Talia!

1636: Unrelatedly to anything (I'm fine today, just a little stressed out) I find it really interesting that, one of the things I do when I'm trying really hard not to start crying in public, is to begin seeing how much of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy I can recite.

Granted, this somehow backfires as I originally began to learn hitchhikers as a self-masochistic way to illustrate the 2718.89 miles between me and my clone, and if I think too hard about that I'll be depressed, but still, just as a "shit shit I need to distract myself from everything in real life" it works like a charm.

1925: ...Ohyeah, I was working on this. Well, I mean, Ria was all "doof?" and dhs was all "I'll bribe you to come to Diesel with the offer of giving back your clothes" and so I went and got dinner with Ria and Mando (who recently dyed his hair BLUE and so now looks not unlike a character of mine) and then went to Diesel where I stayed for like...an hour or something. On the wicked plus side, I was finally properly/formally introduced to sunspiral, which is exciting. *adds him as a friend*

Now all I need to do is properly meet Cthulia and I'll be able to officially consider myself a Boston based fen.

2137: Did I really just spend the last two hours reorganizing my friends lists, again? Fuck. Me.

2224: You know what I want to know? I want to know how long it would've taken me to meet and become friends with Janny without the sluggy.net link. I think the only other person on my friends list who I could say pretty confidentally that I would meet without however I met them having happened is dan4th. And maybe very vaguely possibly Magus, but only insomuch I would've started to meet him at Balticon '06 rather than Origins '04

I'm attempting to clean out my gmail inbox, ie, archiving everything I'm done with. I had 1209 messages from 2008 sitting in my inbox waiting to be archived and about 4500 overall, I am *hilariously* bad at this, and not just because of the several hundred comment threads of doom I'm ignoring with mek.

OH! And I might be going to GenCon this year!! Mom's going, and if I can get the time off from wherever I will be working, there was an implication of me being able to booth babe for Joan. :D!

2237: So, something Tristan asked me right when we found out we were both virgos¹ was "So what's your neurosis?" I can't remember exactly what I answered --almost certainly my default compulsion, the fact that I clean my glasses overly often, and every single time I ever get into a conversation about OCD or neuroses. *speaking of which, cleans 'em now. Sigh*

But I think my current big one is the neck thing. I hate hate HATE having my neck touched, it freaks me out. Occasionally, I'll just freak out about the fact that I have a neck for no good damn reason which pisses me off, especially when I get the "ohgodohgod, need to have nothing near my neck, RIGHT NOW" Necklaces and collars I can take off. T-shirts are harder. Skin is impossible.

I was idly thinking about this, and about the fact that, when doing the cuddling/petting/caressing fan situation that I seem to find myself in a lot, if someone gets their hands too close to my neck, I will invariably move their hands down.

At some point, I am going to inadvertently move their hands down to far and accidentally cause someone to grope me. Stupid fucking neuroses.

2301: Oh, bitches!! So, I'm looking at my class schedule, and the creative writing class I really wanted to take because hey --Sorcy likes creative writing!-- takes place on Thursdays. From 6:45 to 9:15 PM.

Yeah, when is Concord based contra again? What's that? Exactly that time? What the fuck Belanie. What the fuck.

(So now I have to decide if I'm going to try and find another class to take instead or if I'm just going to not start doing contra up here until next January --I suspect one of the deciding factors in which I choose will be how much contra I get in over the summer.

Still though. Bitches.

0019: QUOTE OF THE DAY:

JoshZed:
this is more of the strong evidence that I'm really a 1 on the Kinsey scale
or close to it
I mean, if Randall doesn't do it for me, who will?

(Good lord, has the concept of sexing up Randall Munroe become a *theme* in my livejournal? That's either terrifying or awesome.)

Also, I am amused that I started this as 'thoughts while packing' and haven't actually packed anything in seven hours or so.

0101:

NEW Quote of the Day!

"Do I want to know why you are interested in my lovelife?"
"Because human interactions of all sort fascinate me."
"Any sort of interaction is fascinating if it involves cherry-flavored lube!"
[Immediate follow-up comment] "...........I did not just type that.........."

0112:

OHMYGOD.

Does the world love me? I don't actually know. But the world might!

But...not being at movie night.

But Satanic motherfucking Mechanics!

Ohhhh, I should not be forced to have decisions like this...

0222: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, Sor? Fuck you. Go do your paper. Like...now. Just because you know damn well you're not going to be sleeping tonight is no reason to not get the paper done early.

P.S: What is your plan, to sleep on the floor or something eventually? You're incredibly fucking stupid, I hope you're aware of that. Also, a week of sleep-dep? What makes you think you'll even be able to potentially *begin* to make it to Rocky? Yeah, that's what I thought. Tell your terminal optimism to fuck off.

Allfornow

~Sor
MOOP!

1: heh, I almost wrote that as 'virgins'. Oops.

I...may in fact have too many Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy related books.

See, I'm packing for college, and I made a nice neat stack of them, with all my other books. I have ten.

*The movie book
*The first comic book
*The original radio scripts for the first 12 fits
*My blue copy of the complete guide, for highlighting and writing in
*My black leatherbound copy of the complete guide, for looking nice
*My new paperback copy of the complete guide, in, erm, Swedish
*A copy of the first book bought in London
*A copy of the first book in German
*A copy of Life, The Universe, and Everything that I bought for something like a quarter at a book sale
*A copy of So Long and Thanks for All the Fish (since it's my favourite)

Yeeeeeah. And on Dimi, I have the first three radio series. Moderately obsessive, yes.

OH! And *somewhere* I have the prologue to the Hijackers Guide to the Galaxy all printed out and mailed to me, which I wound up originally reading during a really shit tech job. So that's awesome too.

And I'm probably going to wind up snagging the DVD, although I know there is no way mum will let me drag the miniseries up to Bawston.

A girls gotta have her fandoms, after all. I wonder where I can get a couple copies of the towel --merely having a largish bath towel from Marks and Spencers is lovely and all, however...

~Sor
MOOP!

( If your name is Kyu, don't read this in case of spoilers. (Dunno, have you gotten your prezzie from Katters yet? Anyone else, go ahead! )

In short, Sor = Happy.

~Sor
MOOP!

P.S: Kyu, I got your card. *grin*

P.P.S: This is what my other new hat looks like.