apocalypsos: (boo misbehave)
[personal profile] apocalypsos
I'm pretty sure I'm not going bowling with the gang from work tonight. I woke up with a sore throat, a stuffed nose, and exactly zero energy. And I'm pretty sure I'm not taking the right approach to getting any better, because since I've woken up, I've had half a glass of soda and three white raspberry cheesecake chocolates, which have turned into the treat I'd rob a bank for. You'd think for the orgasmic taste, they'd cure cancer or something, although apparently the common cold is beneath them.

Sometimes I'm grateful for the four days on, four days off schedule, because I slept until two today and don't plan on going anywhere, but on the same token, I just wasted half the day sleeping. *sigh*

I probably wouldn't lose weight on my days off if I didn't keep forgetting to eat. You know, for the record.

I bought clip-on headphones yesterday and am sorely tempted to write the manufacturer. Not that they don't work -- they work great -- but that thing where they make one wire on one side longer so that the other side is teeny and the stuck-together wires descend down one side of you rather than down the center of you annoys me. Esepcially with these, because they did it on the left side of the headphones and I'm right-handed, which means that's where my Zen is. The stuck-together wires are long enough that they shouldn't tug, but then again, I've got to maintain my eligibility for the World's Biggest Klutz title somehow.

I'm not allowing myself to write curse 'verse stories for the rest of the [livejournal.com profile] psych_30 chart. Not that I couldn't, because I gave them twenty-eight days alternating as girls and seventeen of 'em for the sexin', but I want to do more slashy Wincest. That's not to say I won't do more for the chart, because girl!Sam and Girl!Dean are fun to write (and hot, YAY!), but just not the whole chart.

Our company is having an outing to Hersheypark in June. Woohoo! I haven't been to Hershey since I was little, and I'm taking my brother, who's never been. I also brought him a bag of those white raspberry cheesecake chocolates when I went to ask him if he wanted to go, because I'm the Dean and he's the Sam and that's just the way it works. :)

Speaking of the boys, I had a thought about Something Wicked yesterday that I never did get to write down, in relation to the main character from the Books of Boggs and the comparison to John leaving the boys for three days. The Books of Boggs is, for anyone who doesn't know, the original fiction series I'm currently trying to get published. The main character is a guy named Sean Patrick Boggs who has magical abilities he can't control and is always getting chased by people who are trying to kill him. It's a fact of life due to who he is and what he might be capable of later on, the life he leads and the life he will lead.

Sean was raised by a guy named Hawking, a grizzled guy who's less foster father and more drill sergeant/mountain man. Child services would have a field day with this guy. He let little Sean eat and do whatever the hell he wanted. He trained him to handle any weapon he could get his hands on. He taught him things about killing that a normal kid shouldn't know, but that Sean needed to know. He taught him tricks about getting away with shit around authority figures that were meant to keep him safe.

And on occasion, he left for weeks on end when Sean was still not much older than Dean was in that flashback and with even less prep. ("Emergency contact? What the hell is an emergency contact?" That sort of thing. At least Dean and Sam had Pastor Jim three hours away.)

Is it right? Hell, no. If Sean had been a normal kid, that would been horribly neglectful.

That's the thing, though. Sean wasn't a normal kid, and the way Hawking raised him -- letting him learn to take care of himself -- has a point in it. Sean is not normal, and Sean is never going to be normal. People are going to try to kill him. There are dark things in this world that will want him dead, and other things that will want to try to use him to make other people dead.

Hawking wasn't raising a child. Hawking was raising someone who was going to have to fight for his life, and was going to have to be so used to it that he never flinches when he has to.

See where I'm going with this?

I keep going back to the whole "I went to Missouri and found out the truth" thing. They've never gone into exactly how deep "the truth" that Missouri gave John was. That there are evil things out there that need to be destroyed is a given. But presuming that there was a tidbit or two about Dean and Sam and how their lives would turn out, there might be a grain of training them hard from day one to take care of themselves in what John did when he left them for three days. I do think there's also a little of the fact that it's hard to find a babysitter who'll shoot anybody who comes to the door, and I doubt a guy named Pastor Jim (whom we know John goes to for illegal ammunitions), no matter how nice he might be, is really that up for babysitting two little boys on a regular basis.

Is it the nicest childhood to grow up in, being left like that sometimes? No, of course not. But it's not exactly the nicest childhood when you ask your dad if the boogeyman is real and he hands you a .357. It's not nice, but hell, it keeps you safe, resilient, and self-reliant.

Of course, there's the train of thought that John was trying to lure the shtriga to the motel with the boys (which I highly doubt and yet at the same time could see him doing if he was trying to use it to train Dean, in which case I both hate and love John for weird, fucked-up reasons like I always do), and after that, this whole thing just disintegrates in my head into Sam-is-an-ungrateful-asshat-for-his-dad-training-him-in-shit-that's-saved-his-life-several-times-over territory.

I think what would make me better is if I had sex with Jensen Ackles. Now, that'll cure some fucking cancer, among other things.

EDIT: Last night I dreamed I was a member of Monty Python and was helping write skits and perform and stuff. That was the best non-sex dream EVER.

Date: 2006-04-11 09:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] apocalypsos.livejournal.com
I think my thing with Sam is that I get where he's coming from, BUT.

I understand he wants to go to college. Nothing wrong with that. I understand he wants normal. Nothing wrong with that, either, although the question of whether or not he's even supposed to HAVE normal is a different story.

I just wish he'd stop talking about Stanford and normal and everything like hunting is so bad. Is it legal? No, not really, and I get that that means a lot to him with the whole law school thing, but Jesus, his father and brother aren't committing felonies to hurt people, they're doing it to save them. It's like he knows that fact, but it doesn't register in his mind. He keeps talking about it like it's not a real life, but it's THEIR lives and it's keeping people from losing theirs. What I'm really hoping for is that by the time we get to the finale of the show, that sinks into his thick skull, whether he continues to hunt or not.

I think the reason Sam's whole attitude doesn't bother me is because I'm the Dean and my brother's the Sam and I know how it goes. He's not thinking about the situation from any other point of view than his own, and he's not trying to. At this point, he has no reason to. It's not like he's doing it on purpose, he's just sticking his foot in his mouth without even realizing it.

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