(no subject)

My subconscious self is apparently wilder than I am, but not by much: in last night's dream, it was fully intending to order a Macallan, but then switched to cranberry juice upon realizing it'd been sipping from an ashtray.

(no subject)

In the kitchen, writing a long-overdue letter and listening to the Met's Mozart retrospective. They just played Kurt Moll performing "O, wie will ich triumphieren" from Seraglio -- a bass aria demanding great agility. Thrilling.

misc and drabble

Anyone want to make me a crackbunny icon? *wiggles ears* (And y'all want to write me Muppet/HP crossovers, don't you? Don't you? *eg*)

Ahem. Speaking of crack...

Title: Not Yet Practiced Enough...
For: the Animagus challenge. Still lots of claims left, folks...
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Words: 100 (edited: plus a dozenish to fit in the damn scar and glasses...)

"Severus, your forehead's dripping blood!" Lupin exclaimed, as his partner stalked into their cottage. "I thought you just went out to gather cherry blossoms--"

"That was my intent, Lupin, but apparently this bowtruckle considers himself too good for wood lice." Snape tossed what appeared to be a heap of twigs onto their worktable. "Do with it what you will. I'm going to clean myself up."

Lupin sidled cautiously over to the immobilized stick-creature, and then began to guffaw. Instead of the customary beetle-brown orbs, two brilliant green eyes glared at him.

"Sorry, Harry," he murmured, calming down. "So hard, isn't it. Were you trying to give him a scar to match yours? Let me patch up those specs..."

---

And also of teh silly (via regan_v): So You Think You Can Dance, by fourth_rose. Snape. Gen. Yay Millicent!

(no subject)

Man, it's twenty degrees warmer in Boston than it is here in Nashville.

On the other hand, we have sun.