Celendra

A few thoughts on my birthday

celendra — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 19:32:28 GMT

So, since it's obviously been, well, years since I've written anything, I thought I'd start small - just a toe in.

I've been sitting out on my lovely little deck - the best feature of my apartment - surrounded by all my plants, enjoying my birthday. The smell of the basil, the bright pink and white and yellow of the flowers. For the first time in weeks it's a day where it's bearable to be outside with the sun shining. After weeks of heat indexes in the 100s, a day in the eighties is beautiful.

While any other day I'd be content as hell to be lazy, today, of all days, I got a bug to do some cleaning. Stripped the curtains, took down and washed some of the blinds. I guess I spend so much time being lazy that, on the day when I'm entitled, it wouldn't feel special enough.

As I was sitting out here, enjoying the sun and the light breeze that's been blowing all day, I thought suddenly of my mother, who, for obvious reasons, does not often enter my thoughts.

To greatly reduce a long story, she left when I was five, stopped calling when I was seven and stopped writing when I was twelve. We spoke...two? three? times when I was in college, but that's all. It's been twenty-three years since I've seen her. I couldn't tell you what her voice sounds like. The only reason I could tell you want she smells like (or did smell like, in any case) is because she always wore Oil of Olay. The smell of it throws me back to this day - like crayons, but, obviously, with less pleasant associations.

I just wondered, on today of all days, if perhaps she was thinking of me. If she even remembers that this is my birthday. After that long, it would be understandable if she didn't - if it was just a date like any other, now. Twenty-eight years is a long time. It's certainly seems to have been long enough to erase me.

I do want to say, though, that I don't want this woman in my life. She's crazy - she is complete bugfuck nuts. When she called me for the first time in 10? 11? years, when I was in college, she just wanted to tell me all about her group of friends and her married boyfriend, but how his wife was dying and they'd be together soon. Nothing - not ONE WORD - about the fact that she hadn't bothered to contact me for years. Like it had never happened. Like it was something you could just ignore, and wouldn't it be nice for us to be friends now?

Seriously. What the fuck.

I guess as I sit here, waiting for my incredible Dad - who's on his way to take me out for my birthday, who thinks about me EVERY SINGLE DAY, who knows how incredibly strange and messed-up I am and will never love me one bit less for it - I'm thinking less about <i>my</i> Mom and more just about <i>a</i> mom. A real one, who could love me the way that my Dad does.

I was so lucky to spend most of my years growing up without that woman as my mother, just like I was so lucky to grow up with Dad - no matter how frustrating he can be sometimes. And sometimes I just wish things had been different - that she wasn't crazy and selfish. That there was no question of whether or not she even remembered which day I was born. That she loved me. That's all. My silly little birthday wish.

And now, enough of this shit. I'm going to have a good day.

I'm going to miss you so much.

celendra — Fri, 23 Sep 2005 12:44:42 GMT

I just spent the past few days re-reading all of the old SC Round Robins. God, it's been like opening the floodgates. I can hardly believe I was lucky enough that such great writers and (more often than not) great people just let me in there with them. Unbelievable.

Kelly was always the best at those. She could always keep track of what everyone else was doing, never forgot to include someone in a scene that should be there and always kept the voices authentic. I mean, by the time I got halfway through Court of Miracles yesterday, I didn't even need to read the signature at the bottom. She was just that unique.

I just got to work ten minutes ago. My mail had a sweet message from an old friend offering to talk "if I needed to". It was like the bottom fell out of my stomach.

I can't believe that it took her. I can't believe it took her so fucking fast.

I just keep sitting here and crying. I know I'll stop eventually, but in a lot of ways I wish that I wouldn't. Because I know, I know that this hasn't really hit me yet. I know it probably won't until I'm doing something totally stupid and normal. And then......I don't know what. I wish I knew of a way to show how much this hurts. I wish there was something that you could do to yourself to just open up and show how much of you goes away when something like this happens.

It shouldn't have been Kelly.

I feel so small and so stupid. Like all I can do is sit here and think "It's not fair, it's not fair". Of course, it isn't. But it's such a childish thing to say. I know that already. I know it's not fair. I knew that before this all started.

It just feels like someone changed the rules. I just wish that this was something that we could write our way out of. If anyone could, it would be this group.

Just keep sitting here and thinking fucking cliches. "She had so much left to do." "I should have been a better friend." It all just keeps circling back to "It's not fair".

I want to be so eloquent for her. Because that's the way she's always been. It's what she deserves.

Maybe later I'll be able to......think. Or.....say the things that deserve to be said. Right now, I just....don't have anything good enough to say.

Stolen from Nute

celendra — Thu, 20 Jan 2005 17:51:30 GMT

Heh. Figures.

You scored as Verbal/Linguistic. You have highly developed auditory skills, enjoy reading and writing and telling stories, and are good at getting your point across. You learn best by saying and hearing words. People like you include poets, authors, speakers, attorneys, politicians, lecturers and teachers.

</td>

Verbal/Linguistic

82%

Intrapersonal

75%

Musical/Rhythmic

71%

Interpersonal

54%

Logical/Mathematical

43%

Visual/Spatial

39%

Bodily/Kinesthetic

The Rogers Indicator of Multiple Intelligences
created with QuizFarm.com

Marscon

celendra — Thu, 20 Jan 2005 17:29:31 GMT

So, finally going somewhere this weekend and seeing.....you kjnow. People. In some sort of a social situation. Gah.

I haven't really been much of anywhere since March...of last year, that is. This is my first con, ex will be there, he'll have already talked to all of the people I want to see there, who were his friends first. I'm not sure what he's told them - if he's lied, temporized, stonewalled or told the truth. I'm worried.

But....I am cautiously looking forward to it. I did buy myself some cute clothes, so, you know. That's good. I'm trying to de-emphasize my bigness and re-emphasize my boobness.

And, you know, after (dear god) nearly a year, I feel like I might actually be beginning to even want to have physical intimacy again. Not that, you know, my personal feelings are what I actually even need to worry about at this point. It's, you know, getting to the point where someone else's personal feelings on that subject would ever come into play again.

Graduation

celendra — Tue, 16 Nov 2004 06:56:46 GMT

That's right. My little puppy graduates from obediance school on Thursday.

The entire experience has really been a learning experience. I mean....for me. Mostly Rufus has just learned to do what I say while we are in class and he knows that the treats are there, and likely to come in rapid succession. At home, he listens a little better ("come" especially, has gotten better, although he still runs off into the woods for an hour and gives me a heart attack). Also, his socialization skills have improved, which is very good.

Rufus is a very tiny, tiny dog, who looks like Toto from the Wizard of Oz and weighs about 13 pounds. Get him in front of a Lab or a likewise larger (male, usually) dog, and he thinks he's a Great Dane.

(Oh dear god.....I hope he never meets a Great Dane....)

It's that short guy syndrome thing. The first night we had to sit between a Chocolate and Yellow Lab and he nearly went nuts trying to get to them to Tear.Them.Apart.Before.They.Hurt.Mommy! (or possibly pee on something in "his territory") Now he can sit beside them and even ignore them totally if there is some food-type inducement. That makes me feel better.

He even has his own little fan club. Which I, of course, think is totally justified. These two nice women (mother and daughter) each have little girl Scottish Terriers and they (and their dogs) are totally in love with Rufus. They think he's so smart and beautiful and his face has so much personality. It is soooooo nice to have my insane dog ravings confirmed by other people. : )

I really should bring a picture to work and scan it in.......he is the most adorable thing......

F@ck.

celendra — Wed, 03 Nov 2004 08:37:02 GMT

Look, I know they're both rich, stuck up, disconnected, soulless money whores.

But shit. I was really hoping he would lose.

The logic of staying in this country seems to be less and less appearent.

Don't get me wrong - not a Republican, not a Democrat. You know why? Because both want to fuck around in my life.

Democrats want to rearange my (and everyone else's) money, as they think it should have originally been distributed. That is not okay with me.

Republicans will (mostly - this administration seems to be an exception) leave your money alone and, in return, expect to be able to tell you how you are to live and believe.

They're both wrong, but this year, my civil liberties were more important than my pocketbook.

celendra — Wed, 09 Jun 2004 10:46:42 GMT

It gets sort of rediculous when I become the most competent person at my job. I mean, honestly.

I can live with not being promoted to supervisor, but when I am then training all of the new people and telling her what is required for her to do that job correctly, you would think someone would realize they made a mistake.

*subtle glare at boss*

Tappy, I never knew you cared.........

celendra — Tue, 08 Jun 2004 10:20:50 GMT

Meme joiner, I am.

Celendra's LJ stalker is dawnkiller!

dawnkiller is stalking you because they heard you are awesome in bed, and they want to find out. They are also prank calling you regularly!

LJ Stalker Finder
From Go-Quiz.com

Not _just_ bitching, I promise!

celendra — Tue, 08 Jun 2004 07:07:12 GMT

So, after having the worst month of my life, I'm just waiting to be hit by a bus.

Dad has cancer again, he had some surgery which they sent us home totally unprepared from, his cathater (something neither of us knew anything about, and recieved a 45 second tutorial on from his bitchy nurse) backed up and he almost went into shock. Up on the mountain, with just me, 50 minutes away from a hospital. So, yeah, I totally found his surgeon's home number and woke him up at 1:30 in the morning.

Jason left me. Oh, yeah. That was wonderful. Especially the part about how he hasn't loved me for a year......and how he is of the opinion that I am a truely terrible lay. That was lovely - and because we can't afford to pay capital gains taxes, I can't _not_ live with him and sell my house until I get an IRS exemption. Which means I've moved into the slightly moldy smelling storage room. Not that I wasn't given a choice to stay in our room - oh, right, let me stay in the same room and sleep in the same bed where I've lived the last year of my lie....or is that life?

So, that's that.

On the plus side, it means that (once I sell the damn place) I won't have three other grown people to clean up after and be servant to. I'll probably stay with my Dad while they to the treatments (5-6 months, at least) and then just get some place with my dog and me. And no other bloody people. At least I've had one "learning experience" from this whole thing - I am just not meant to live with other people.

Privacy will be a nice change.

Hi-del-didley-didle-dum...

celendra — Tue, 10 Jun 2003 12:04:22 GMT

I just bought....

a fiddle. A nice little beginners fiddle and instruction packet.

I did a little reseach first and found the one that got the best reviews for my price range. I have to admit being pretty amazed at how much prices have gone down since I got my last musical instrument (a flute, and a pretty shitty one at that).

I got the fiddle with case, a stand, some rosin and an instruction packet for 160.00

I've always been impatient with myself and musical instruments, but I have a pretty good feeling about this one.

Besides, I've _always_ wanted to learn to play one.

Cel

P.S. - I got the idea for my Epic series. Right now I'm trying to figure out first story arc logistics. Hoody-hoo.

Epic News

celendra — Wed, 04 Jun 2003 13:52:08 GMT

Marvel is running with its EPIC line. For those of you who don’t know, EPIC will be an open submission comic book line. Open submission for pencilers, inkers, colorists, letterers – and writers. Pay scale outlined at www.marvel.com/epic

The point is, it’s open. If you can plot an issue, you can send it in. It boils down to the fact that they prefer Marvel Universe (MU) submissions because they make more money, but are also accepting good creator-owned universe and characters.

Now, Marvel will be editing submissions, etc., but they will not be editing books in the typical sense. No deadline pressure, no editing-editing. That’s up to the creative team. What this means in theory is greater artistic freedom and no pressuring deadlines. What it could easily turn into is a series of comic books with one issue every 4 months, if that, shoddy plotlines that Mac trucks would fit through, and all of the attendant problems of lacksidasical(sp) editing.

I can easily see EPIC turning into a horrific parade of lackluster, Claremont-ripoff writings and Jim Lee-ripoff art that rehashes terrible storylines in an even worse way.

But.

But – I can also see visions of grandeur. Can’t you see Kielle spinning No Way Up into comic book form? That’s kosher now.
Or Dex getting his hands on Emma Frost?
Or Darqstar with a Beast mini-series?
Cable in the hands of Alicia McKenzie?
Kaylee and Logan?
Matt Nute writing Captain America?

Or……even me. If I could come up with a workable idea…….a workable script. God, can you even imagine the feeling of opening up that comic……and seeing your name there? Well, maybe you don’t have to imagine it.

The Nail-Biting Wait.....

celendra — Mon, 02 Jun 2003 08:43:40 GMT

I hereby decree that I will never, ever, ever, ever not feedback a story I like again. I promise! Honest!

Oi - so this is what my friends have been talking about, the whole time.

What I'm Going To Talk About Today.

celendra — Sun, 01 Jun 2003 18:03:22 GMT

Right now, I could talk about how non-idyllic the sister's visit was. But I won't.

I could talk about all of the icky chores I have yet to do. But not today.

I could bitch about the guys, or about work, but I have more important things to talk about today.

I just posted a story.

Do you hear that world?

I f*cking did something. I wrote something. Not great, know. Probably improperly characterized. I wrote fanfic - a byproduct of an already created universe, no new characters. Partially recycled ideas.

I'm not disputing any of that.

But I wrote.

I have not written a story, for public _or_ private consumption....in 2 and a half years.

I am so happy I could cry.

celendra — Fri, 23 May 2003 15:00:04 GMT

Stolen from Frito:

1. Red’s little tap dance
2. Alisha’s giggle
3. My Dad’s stories
4. Sweet old lady customers
5. Chickenfeet’s grin
6. Pam McGovern’s ‘anger’ stories (“I could have BURNED him in his BED!”)
7. Julie’s wicked innuendo
8. Seeing old friends
9. Someone making me dinner
10. Finding new quarters to give to my favorite customers
11. Compliments
12. 3 o’clock days
13. Ferret ‘chuffles’
14. Clean rooms
15. Good dinners
16. Everyone doing their chores
17. Warren Ellis
18. Chasing after Eliel and rythmically chanting his name
19. Sherlock humor
20. Aristotle humor
21. Louis Black
22. Food Day
23. Sister visits
24. Porch Dancing
25. He-Man

Family - the pro argument

celendra — Fri, 23 May 2003 14:22:58 GMT

My sisters are coming, my sisters are coming!

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, for one day only (one sister is leaving the day after the other is coming in, so they're both staying longer), THREE Kidd sisters AND the Patriarch, all in one place. Let's get ready to inbiiiiiiiiiibe!

I can see it now. Beer. And Vodka-tonics. And Champagne. And Margaritas. and Wine.....and gourmet food brought by each sister, trying to outdo the other....Tom T. Hall, Frank Sinatra, Willie Nelson, Tony Bennett, Ray Charles, the Statler Brothers and me valiantly explaining the neatness of my latest Irish Drinking song collection blaring from the radio......no matter how cold and raining it is, dancing on the porch with our Dad while children and husbands look on, confused and occasionally frightened/disgusted.

Tender talk. A little good crying. Insisting that we 'kick that sucker up' into a happier song, to dry tears and get us on our feet. New stories. New lives. Old loves.

My Family.

When it's good with us, nobody has ever had it better. And I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Why I Am A Great Huge Ponce and Other Such Maunderings.....

celendra — Wed, 21 May 2003 06:54:19 GMT

That's right - I'm damned poncy. Look at my last few entries. Ye gods - you'd think I was twelve again!

You know, it's probably the saddest thing ever, but I was trying to convince Jason to come with me to 'The Tempest' at the Blackfriars Playhouse and I was explaining the play to him.

Then I realized - I've never seen the Tempest. I've never read it. You know how I was able to recite the plot?

I used to watch Wishbone.

I am such a dork.

Celendra

(For those of you who don't know, Wishbone was a PBS show about a cute little Jack Russell Terrier who could read and would act out the starring part in whatever piece of classic literature reminded him of his 'humans' current plight. Oi.)

Everybody Leaves

celendra — Mon, 19 May 2003 12:02:29 GMT

Contemplate that with me for a moment.

Everybody leaves. Everybody.

Sooner or later, at one time or another, inevitably. They will leave. And you, my friend, shaking your head at my cynisism, will be alone. Just like me.

Just like all of us.

***

Have you ever recognized a good person when they were right in front of you?

Or do you notice it later, thinking back on them?

I've recently come to the conclusion that I am actually a good person. Me. I'm a good person. I'm a good cook, a good woman, a good housekeeper. Me. Of all people.

Now, the only trick is how to shine a brighter light on that....

(Hey, I said I was good - I didn't say I was humble. Or perfect)

Life In A House

celendra — Thu, 15 May 2003 10:07:42 GMT

My house is perfect....

Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, big beautiful kitchen full of bright colors and beautiful counters and my big new kitchen table of wonderfulness. My fireplace in my living room, my mantle and my yard, the new plants from my housewarming party. The basement, with the vast expanse of the gaming room and the little loud corner of the music room. The laundry room all ready to recieve the washer and drier.

My house is perfect.

Except.

(It's always that 'except' that gets you.)

Except for the filling of every one of those bedrooms by the guys, Jason and I. Except for the fact that they've stopped doing their chores and haven't finished giving me the money for the food. Except for the $140 electricity bill we got yesterday. Except for the ant problem that I battled and won. Except for the constant stream of strange boys in and out of my house, to play in the band room or on the three networked computers or the gaming systems or the Warhammer table. Except for the Den Mother aspect I find myself in. Except for the fact that it's a month later and I still don't have my washer and drier, which means I have to go to the laundrymat and get hit on by that sleazy Mexican guy with the big cowboy hat again.

Except.

My house is perfect; I'm still figuring out how a 'home' works.

Blarg

celendra — Sun, 09 Mar 2003 07:52:23 GMT

Sinus infection.

Yuck.

Life, life, life...

celendra — Wed, 26 Feb 2003 19:18:47 GMT

Milestones come and go, and hit me like a ton of bricks every time.

Sunday was Jason and my one year anniversary. He brought me flowers, we went to dinner, and then we had our first fight. Ever.

You know, because trust me to fuck up a great day, if it can be done.

We got over it, it was just things we both needed to work on.

Monday night, my Dad called. Now, I hadn't called him in about a week and a half, because I felt guilty that I got my first speeding ticket and am too nervous to tell him and, even if I'd been entirely sanguine about a conversation, I've been too busy to breathe. The conversation went something like this:

"Hey, Dad! How've you been?"

"Well, last week I was in the emergency room from 6am until 10pm. They thought I had a mild heart attack, but now they don't know what it is."

".......oh my god! Are you okay? I mean, what are they doing??"

"Oh, whatever. You know, I think you need to come down here in the next few weeks so that we can talk. I think I'm just going to sell this goddamn place and move away. I mean, f#ck it - nobody ever comes, and it's killing me. Why not?"

"Oh....god...well, you should come over here. If you're lonely live over with me."

"No. Absolutely not. I'm just going to go somewhere - anyway, I've got to go."

*click*

Jaw dropping. My father can sometimes act like an immature two year old when his feelings get hurt but Jesus Christ! Aren't I the one who helped him through cancer, who held him during the treatments when his piss was toxic and he cried himself to sleep? Wasn't I there through all of that, and never dumping my problems on him??

For Christs' sake, he could have _called_! I'd have been there in a heartbeat and he knows that! He's just so stupidstubbornselfish that he can't ever, ever do the asking - I _always_ have to come to him and drag things out of him.

I mean, dammit, I'm buying a house!! There are things every day that make me want to rip my hair out and I'm essentially doing this by myself. I haven't had a spare minute _TO_ call him, even if I wanted to. There is always some sort of crisis between my car breaking, Jason's car breaking, something happening with the SIX (yes, counting Jason I now take care of SIX guys in a two bedroom townhouse!!!) guys that are essentially my children - the phone line works _both_ ways. I had no idea he was hurt.

I just wish he had called.

Oddities in Banking....

celendra — Mon, 17 Feb 2003 11:48:03 GMT

Now, because of confidentiality agreements I've signed, all bank stories will be anonymous. Still, some of these are just too good to let slide.

We have a customer who looks and acts exactly like Steven the Dell Guy. Even down to that necklace of hemp and little white sea shells. A few months ago he walks up to me and, no exaggeration, this is what happened:

"Yeah, uh....."

"Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Yeah, uh....I'd like to get some money out of my ackizzount."

*blink* *mouth wide open* *blink* "Wh...your....um...."

*huge moronic grin* "Yeah...my ackizzount."

"If.....you can just write your name on........the um......the withdrawal....slip...."

His ackizzount (you know - like hizzouse). *sighs* If only I could have said what was on my mind....

"Well, actually we don't have those in this bizzank."

Cel

News, news and more news

celendra — Sun, 16 Feb 2003 21:13:33 GMT

Jason and I have bought a house. A real, honest to god house - 4 bedrooms, two bathrooms, a huge backyard, rec room (soon to be the most awesome gaming room ever).....it's beautiful. It's perfect. It nearly killed me getting everything that needed to be done ready, but I did. And it's ours - we move in at the end of March.

I've been working at the bank full time for about six months now - good job, decently interesting, good money, lots of holidays.

I've been struggling more and more with the fact that I'm twenty years old and have 'glory days'. Shouldn't I be able to be in my prime just a wee bit more before I definitively say that I'm past it?

I've had two cars die in the last month (one my fault, the other just a peice of junk), so my Dad helped me get a nice car - a '96 Ford Contour. Nicest car I've ever even driven. He's better to me than I could ever deserve. Ending up with him is the luckiest break I ever had.

Feeling very introspective tonight and I'm determined to get back into the habit of writing a journal. I was away from online so long all of my email accounts disappeared.

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho, I got a job and so.....

celendra — Sat, 24 Aug 2002 15:24:25 GMT

....I am very pleased. I got that part time teller position at a local bank and have been promised a full-time position in a few months if I want it, as they are opening up a new branch and will need tellers. I turned in my app. in late July, had my interview on Tuesday and started work on Wednesday.

The work is more difficult than I thought it would be, simply because there is so much minutia that is critical and needs to be remembered. Also, it makes the feet very unhappy to stand up for 8-10 hours a day in nice shoes.

On the plus side, the money is good, I get sick leave, when I go full time there will be benefits and it actually is pretty interesting work. I've seen a lot of local people I know in the bank and that is pretty neat. My coworkers, while some of them aren't _that_ bright, are all nice.

A scary incident on Thursday, though - another bank in town got robbed. For the rest of the day, the transactions (or at least the ones I handled) went a lot like this.

ME: Yes???

CUSTOMER: I'd like to make a withdrawal.

ME: Oh God! H-How much?

CUSTOMER: *strange look* Just fifty dollars from my account.

ME: Oh. Oh! From your account? Just yours??

CUSTOMER: Yeeesss.....

Or something like that. Anyway.

I trained on Wed., Thurs., and Friday and will be training all next week also. The thought of getting robbed makes me want to vomit, but other than that, I like the job pretty well.

On another job/money front, Jason is thinking of doing the manager's training program at Domino's. This would mean a lot more money in and less money out (not needing commercial driver's insurance and all), and he said something the other day, although I don't know how serious he was, that if he does that, we could afford a house.

*wide eyed* Our own house? With no roomates? *sighs* If only....

Work, work, work....

celendra — Wed, 14 Aug 2002 15:56:37 GMT

Well, it took the better part of last night, and today, but I just did something. So, there. I have a complete timeline of Jenny Sparks and Doc Brasses lives, through all of Stormwatch, Authority, Planetary and the Limited Series. I wanted to see where their lives could have/did intersect, but it's a pretty neat accomplishment on its own.

Most of this list was assembled through the help of Trade Paperbacks, and so is referenced appropriately.

[FON]= STORMWATCH: FORCE OF NATURE
[LS]= STORMWATCH: LIGHTNING STRIKES
[COD]= STORMWATCH: CHANGE OR DIE
[FO]= STORMWATCH: FINAL ORBIT
[A:R]= AUTHORITY: RELENTLESS
[UNM]= AUTHORITY: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT
[JS]= JENNY SPARKS: THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE AUTHORITY
[AOtW]= PLANETARY: ALL OVER THE WORLD AND OTHER STORIES
[P/A]= PLANETARY/AUTHORITY CROSSOVER
[PL]=SINGLE PLANETARY ISSUE, NOT COLLECTED IN A TP
???= UNKNOWN DATE OR EVEN RELATIVE DATE

Timeline of Col. Jennifer (Jenny) Sparks and Dr. Axel Brass

Jan. 1, 1900 - Jennifer Sparks is born in London, England [A:R]. Elijah Snow and Dr. Axel Brass are born [AOtW].

1910 - John Cumberland (The High) is fired at Earth from a parallel world and raised by farmers [COD]. Jenny Sparks begins attending an all-girls boarding school in Vienna [JS].

1912 - Jenny’s parents die aboard the Titanic and she is cheated out of her inheritance by her "father’s nemesis" [JS].

Jan. 1, 1913 - Jenny’s godfather, Albert Einstein, agrees to send her to school in Zurich. She tells a local painter named Adolf Hitler, whom she has befriended, that he has no future in the art world and she instead urges him to focus on local politics [JS].

Dec. 28th, 1919 - Jenny marries Lorenzo Antonio Slzf, an alien, in Sliding Albion and immediately leaves the world with Ernest Hemingway and a robot who she thinks is Albert Einstein. The robot shoots Jenny, nearly killing her [JS].

Dec. 30th, 1919 - Jenny is repaired by the Engineer, who, thanks to the contents of Jenny’s diary, knew that she had to travel back in time to save The Spirit of the 20th Century [JS].

Dec. 31st, 1919 - Jenny stops aging [FON].

1919 - 20’s - Jenny greets the first shiftships and visits Sliding Albion [FON]. Jenny returns to Sliding Albion in order to rescue Einstein from the Kensington Neuro-camps and defeat her husband [JS].

1930’s - Jenny comes to New York City to fight crime [AOtW] [LS]. At one point she rescues a reporter named Clarence Cornwall [LS]. Dr. Axel Brass meets Jenny Sparks in New York City. Dr. Axel Brass and Elijah Snow cross paths at Fear Quay, Blazing Hawk Mountain, and the hidden city of Opak-Re [PL].

1930 - Carlton Marvell conferences with Axel Brass and Edison to discuss rocket science [PL].

1935 - Dr. Axel Brass's group builds HQ in Adirondacks [AOtW].

1938 - First recorded activities of The High. He and Jenny Sparks work together at some point [COD].

1938-1939 - Dr. Axel Brass meets The High [AOtW].

1939 - Jenny Sparks and Elijah Snow sleep together [P/A]. Dr. Axel Brass's group fights Daemonites in Paris [AOtW].

1940’s - Jenny spends the early part of the decade in New York [LS].

1940 - Edison and Dr. Axel Brass build computers [AOtW].

1941 - The High goes into seclusion, unwilling to fight for America anymore [COD]. Clarence Cornwall attempts to fill an orphanage with Zyklon B gas because the orphans are black. Jenny electrocutes him in the interrogation room at the police station [LS].

1942 - Dr. Axel Brass eliminates the need for food and sleep [AOtW].

Mid 1940’s - 1950’s - Jenny is a British Government agent [JS].

Jan. 1, 1943 - Jenny is captured by the Nazis in Berchtesgaden, Germany while attempting to recover an ancient Tibetan egg. Adolf Hitler recognizes her and has her sent back to England as a ‘birthday present’, instead of being sent to Dachau for experimentation [JS].

1943 - Dr. Axel Brass stops aging [AOtW].

1944 - Dr. Axel Brass learns to close wounds with the power of his mind [AOtW].

??? - Jenny "danced [in the sky] with lovesick supermen while their fiancées fretted in neighboring dimensions" [JS].

??? - Jenny "[got] banged up for swearing in Martian" [JS].

??? - Jenny was "worshipped as a minor deity in a lost, forgotten jungle [which hosts dinosaurs]" [JS].

??? - Jenny "led the charge in a covert World War Three again aggressors at the center of the earth" [JS].

??? - Jenny "swam through the avenues of Atlantis with John Lennon and Jacques Cousteau" [JS].

??? - Axel Brass goes on missions involving the Vulcania Raven God, The Charnel Ship, the Black Crow King and the Murder Colonels [AOtW].

Jan. 1, 1945 - Beings from an alternate reality invade through the Snowflake Computer and all of Axel Brass’ allies die stopping them. Axel Brass begins his vigil [AOtW].

VE Day, 1945 - An associate of Dr. Axel Brass who possesses the Doctor’s diary is killed in Berlin, the diary is taken by a Russian soldier and locked into a KGB vault [AOtW].

1953 - Jenny meets ‘Baxter’, actually Lord Emp, at a maximum security banquet. Sliding Europe goes to war with Sliding Albion. Sliding Albion shunts bacteria into London which gives rise to new SPBs [LS].

1955 - Jenny sleeps with a ‘poet’ or ‘dirty novelist’ who calls her "The Spirit of the 20th Century" [FON][JS].

Late 1960’s - Jenny is part of an SPB group. The costumed SPB group defends what is then known as the ‘counterculture’. They agree to provide security for a festival on the Isle of Wight. Abel Eternity, a fellow team member and ‘strong guy’ type SPB, injects himself with some sort of controlled substance in order to prove his ‘masculinity’, rampages, killing approx. 20 people per second and is quickly electrocuted by Jenny Sparks. She is not condemned but quits superheroing out of guilt [FON].

Late ‘60’s - 1982 - Jenny "went to bed and didn’t get up" [LS].

Feb. 24th, 1976 - Jenny, apparently working for the Soviet government, agrees to lead the fight against an alien invasion in exchange for Gerald Ford losing the ’76 election, ‘Wilson resign[ing] for backing LBJ in Vietnam’ and Reagan being dealt with if he ‘actually makes it to the oval office’ [JS].

1982 - ? - Jenny is part of an SPB group. These SPBs are the same ones that were created by the Sliding Albion bacterial vent, which had the side effect of making them sterile. Firesign, or Matt, and his wife both go insane, kill the single mothers of six babies, then abduct and kill the babies and use the parts of the multiple babies to make one corpse child for themselves. Jenny turns them over to the police [FON].

1986 - Jenny refuses Henry Bendix’s initial offer to join Stormwatch [FON].

1987 - 1997 - The High beings his vigil on a throne in the Rocky Mountains, working on how to change the world fundamentally [COD].

1996 - Jenny joins Stormwatch at the prompting of Henry Bendix on the condition that they tackle society’s underlying problems. Jenny tells Bendix she will kill him if he betrays that condition [FON].

1997 - The High wakes up, with a message for the world - "Think for yourself and question authority". He and his group plan to fight the fundamental evils that exist. His team is killed by a strike from the insane Henry Bendix. Bendix leaves Skywatch and Jenny Sparks swears that she will kill him as per her previous promise. The High attempts to destroy Skywatch in retaliation for his team’s death, unaware that Jenny is on board. Jenny raises the Storm Door and The High dies on impact with the forcefield [COD].

1999 - Aliens overrun Skywatch, killing most of Stormwatch. Skywatch is destroyed and Stormwatch is officially disbanded. That same day, Jenny Sparks finds and kills Henry Bendix and begins a new SPB group, with much the same goals as the deceased John Cumberland’s group. She forms and commands the Authority [FO]. Elijah Snow and Planetary find and rescue Dr. Axel Brass from his Adirondack base, where he has remained vigilant over the snowflake computer since 1945 [AOtW].

Jan. 1, 2000 - Jenny Sparks dies after electrocuting the brain of God. She is reborn in Singapore as Jenny Quantum [UNM]. The Engineer receives Jenny’s diary [JS].

Any comments or corrections?

Ta,
Cel

Not So Much Blocked, As Scared...

celendra — Tue, 13 Aug 2002 16:16:25 GMT

All day long, my fingers have been itching. Itching to write. Itching to actually create something.

For the past few days I've dove headlong back into the world of fanfiction. Catching up on three months worth of OTL and Luba's. Revisiting old classics like well-remembered friends. Reading things I had always meant to and never had. Sweeping through my entire TP collection and hunting down more on Amazon.com.

I have always wanted to contribute, creatively, to that community. To be more than just the groupie. I have very good taste (but then, who doesn't, in their own opinion?) I know good writing when I see it. I know it and snap it up and revel in it.

And that, my friends, is why I'm writing this instead of trying to work out that incessant tingle about how Doc Brass and Jenny Sparks knew each other. Or how Peter Pan is getting along in New York City in the Fables realm. Or how Emma Bishop spends her nights.

Because I'm afraid. If I don't write anything, I can only be lazy. But if I stretch those thoughts out onto the screen....then, then I could be a fraud. Fit for nothing more than a critic's chair. Better to be lazy than terrible, eh?