apolla: (Jim)
[personal profile] apolla
After the chat last night, during which we had a highly amusing Labyrinth discussion amongst the beer and Nimbus, I went back to my Harry Potter/Labyrinth crossover fic, which I haven't touched in literally months. It's shite. I mean literally shite. I've even forsaken grammar in some places, and the only thing I can say about some of it is that at least it's spelled correct. I mean, I think I've got a pretty good story going on in terms of plot, even of characterisation, but it's so bad! It's so obvious that a lot of it was written before I was really in the fandom because I've walked straight into some of the fanfic cliche traps. I have an OC who, thanks to the cliches I didn't know about, starts off sounding like a Mary-Sue. I'm trying to revise it somewhat because I know the later bits aren't as bad, but man this first chapter is shite. I mean, I've even got Draco's eyes down as blue. Where was my brain when I wrote it, man?

Politics Exam today at nine buggering thirty in the morning. Evil is at the heart of the people who did the schedule, I swear. Fortunately for me there was a question on the Cuban Missile Crisis which also basically asked us to decide whether Jack & Bobby are fantastic or not. Also did the Marshall Plan question in which I referenced no books but made mention of the Russian revolution and skanked some of Martin Sheen's economics words from the West Wing. Then I did the question about Clinton and Somalia and realised halfway through that I only knew stuff from Black Hawk Down and, as worthy a film as it may be, the examiners do not want to know what happens to Josh Hartnett and Ewan MacGregor because of Sam Shepard. So was a bit buggered until I remembered that I am The Great Clare, Blagger and Bullshitter of Note.

Slept the afternoon and evening away, waking just in time to catch Die Hard With A Vengeance on ITV. It's really not Actual Die Hard, is it? I think Jeremy Irons is a cool enough bloke but, well, he's not Al Rickman is he? He's also not dressed as well as Hans "That's a nice suit. Forbes of London. I have two myself." Gruber. Ah well. Then at two this morning I remembered that I was supposed to ring my mother to wish her a happy wedding anniversary (31 years, if you were wondering). She'll probably be mad. Or won't care. Never can tell with her.

Have my final exam on Thursday, thankfully in the afternoon at a civilised time. American Film, so it should be interesting.

Loff to you all!

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