After being misidentified as Seattle and Chile so far today, I think I'm going to swear off quizzes that have less than a dozen questions. They're just returning too many weird answers that don't fit me at all.
I should have known something was wrong wih the latter quiz when the question "Who was the most evil in the Nixon Administration?" only offered me the choices of Nixon and Kissinger. What, no John Dean or G. Gordon Liddy? We want options, dammit, OPTIONS!
Just killed an hour or so wading through someone else's LJ. Surprisingly little personal stuff...well, not really a surprise, since the person in question isn't prone to bleeding in public about what's on their mind. They are, however, prone to leaving fragments of partially-completed fiction (fanfic and original stuff) in their posts. (Hey, P! It sells better if you FINISH it! Maybe especially the stuff you think is crappy.)
I do this by way of noodling about my own writing. I'm still amazed that my alter-ego managed to finish Shojo Kakumei Ukyo, but none too surprised that the several sequels are sitting around incomplete. Inspiration comes when it comes, after all, and it's hard to get the inspiration for those particular stories going when I can't remember where the sparks that set them off came from in the first place. Although when Laurie finishes that commission, it'll certainly kick a couple of them into gear.
On the other hand, there's the Space:Above and Beyond fanfic Strange Bedfellows. It's been a couple of years, and Coop is still down in the tunnels with his Raiders while Nathan and his Brazilian girlfriend are hanging in midair en route to the Aerotech complex. Someday I'll finish it, because I think it's more than a little cruel to leave your characters hanging.
On the other tentacle, the original story that started as some weird fusion of Utena fanfic with Imperium and Captain Harlock is slowly splitting into two novels, since Reiko deserves better than to be a foreword to her little sister's novel.
At least I don't have Shiori intruding on my daydreams complaining about being transformed into a quasi-suicidal Goth any more. Time to refill the water mug and start thinking about dinner.