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* GirlInTheHi-Tops OfflineMember |
Last Activity: December 25th 2011 09:33 PM
About Me
- Basics
- Name
- You can call me Nora
- Gender
- Female
- Location
- Generally hiding in a coatrack
- About
- About me
- Gosh, I don't know. Am I supposed to know? I really hope I'm not supposed to know.
- Details
- Here for
- a safe place
- Relationship status
- Not able to communicate with humans. Oh well.
- Sexuality
- I have to know this, too?
- Ethnicity
- Human.
- Education
- High school/college mixed.
- Occupation
- Gardener and knitter of monsters.
- Politics
- Let's all hug and get along.
- Religion
- Atheist with Wiccan tendecies.
- Zodiac sign
- Aries
- Interests
- Hobbies
- Knitting, playing music, working on puzzles, and writing things that have to do with angst and fairy tales.
- Music
- Pete Mulvey, obviously- my username comes from one of his songs. Lissa Schneckenburger, Brianna Lane, Richard Shindell, Solas, Loreena McKennitt, lots of other stuff.
- Movies
- Serenity, Pan's Labyrinth, Nicholas Nickleby, the Last Station, Les Miserables.
- Television
- Firefly, Freaks and Geeks, Gilmore Girls, Seinfeld, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and when I get very down in the dumps, iCarly. (No one must know.)
- Games
- Bananagrams! Also, Hearts, even if it's been aptly renamed Give Nora the Queen of Spades.
- Books
- The Night Watch (Sarah Waters), feed (M. T. Anderson), the Leviathan books (Scott Westerfeld), the Gemma Doyle trilogy (Libba Bray), Rose of No Man's Land (Michelle Tea), and about a thousand others.
- Sports
- Tug-and-pull with my delightfully inept dog.
- Favorite quotes
- [Helen] touched Kay's face, checking for cuts. 'Are you all right?'
'Yes,' said Kay, 'I'm fine. Go back to sleep now.'
She smoothed Helen's hair away from her brow, watching for the stilling of her eye-lids: feeling the rising of emotion in her own breast; and made almost afraid, for a moment, by the fierceness of it. For she thought of the little bits of bodies she and Cole had had to collect, tonight, from the garden on Sutherland Street, and felt the ghastliness of them, suddenly, as she had not felt it then-the awful softness of human flesh, the vulnerability of bone, the appalling slightness of necks and wrists and finger-joints… It seemed a sort of miracle to her, that she should come back, from so much mayhem, to so much that was quick and warm and and beautiful and unmarked.
She kept watch for another minute, until she was sure that Helen had sunk back into sleep; then she rose and tucked the bed-clothes around her shoulders and lightly kissed her again. She shut the bedroom door as softly as she had opened it, and went back into the sitting-room. She pulled at her tie, undid her collar-stud. When she rubbed at her neck with her fingers, she felt grit.
Against one of the walls of the sitting-room was a little book-case. Behind one of the books was a bottle of whisky. She got herself a tumbler and fished the bottle out. She lit a cigarette, and sat down.
She was fine, for a moment or two. But then the whisky began to shiver in the glass as she raised it to her mouth, and the cigarette to shed ash over her knuckles. She'd started to shake. Sometimes it happened. Soon she was shaking so hard she could barely keep the cigarette in her mouth or sip from her drink. It was like the passing through her of a ghost express-train; there was nothing to be done, she knew, but let the train rattle on, through all its boxes and cars… The whisky helped. At last she grew calm enough to finish her cigarette and sit more comfortably. When she was perfectly steady, and sure the express train wouldn't come back again, she'd go to bed. She mightn't sleep, for an hour or more. Instead, she'd lie and listen to Helen's steady breathing in the darkness. She might put her fingers to Helen's wrist, and feel for the miraculous tick-tick-ticking of her pulse.
Sarah Waters, The Night Watch.
