autumninnewyork: (I'm ready bitch)
You can leave in character and out of character messages here.

Okay, bitch! I'm ready.
autumninnewyork: (winter day)
1. Learn what neuroblastoma means.

2. Be brave for mommy.

3. Attend the funeral for both of my parents.

4. Decide to stop treatment.

5. Be happy with the life I do have.

6. Not be afraid of dying.

7. Accept that there are limits to what I can do physically.

8. Tell people I'm okay with it.

9. Listen to Will tell me about Lynn.

10. Realize that I could save him for other women but not myself.

11. Ending my relationship with Will

12. Make new friends while knowing I might not have the chance to really get to know them.

13. Watch my grandmother watching me die.
autumninnewyork: (skating)
1. Are you single - Yes, singularly me
2. Are you happy - Mostly
3. Are you bored - Quite
5. Are you Italian - No, but that would be fun if I was. Maybe.
6. Are you pregnant - Can't happen.
8. Are you nice - I am.
9. Are you Irish - No. But I like cabbage and potatoes.
10. Are you Asian - I'm not.

1. Full Name - Charlotte Elizabeth Fielding
2. Nicknames - Charlie, Bitch (only Simon can call me that)
3. Birth place - New York Presbyterian
4. Hair color - Dark, dark brown
5. Natural hair style - I'm not sure it is a style.
7. Birthday - October 29th
8. Mood - I feel...a little zen tonight
9. Favorite color - Red
10. One Place to Visit - The Zoo

1. Have you ever been in love - Many times
2. Do you believe in love at first sight - I do
4. Have you ever been hurt emotionally - Yes
5. Have you ever broken someone's heart - I think I have
6. Have you ever had your heart broken - It is broken
7. Have you ever liked someone but never told them - Absolutely.
8. Are you afraid of commitment - No, not in the way this survey means.
9. Who was the last person you hugged - Bird Lady at the park.
10. Who was the last person you said I love you to - Dolly

1. Love or lust - Love
2. Hard liquor or beer - I'm a wine girl
3. Cats or dogs - puppies
4. A few best friends or many regular friends - friends of every sort
5. Television or internet - internet
7. Wild night out or romantic night in - I like them both but my wild isn't everyone's
8. Money or Happiness - happiness
9. Night or day - Night
10. IM or phone - phone

1. Been caught sneaking out - No
3. Done something you regret - Never
4. Bungee jumped - No
6. Finished an entire jaw breaker - The little ones. I want one the size of a softball though.
8. Wanted an ex bf/gf back - Yes
9. Cried because you lost a pet - No
10. Wanted to disappear - No

1. Smile or eyes - Eyes that smile
2. Light or dark hair - Hair
3. Hugs or kisses - Kisses
4. Shorter or taller - Taller, which really isn't saying much. I'm very tiny.
5. Intelligence or attraction - I am attracted to intelligence
6. Romantic or spontaneous - Romantic
7. Funny or serious - Funny
8. Older or Younger - Older, always older
9. Outgoing or quiet - Either
10. Sweet or Bad Ass - Sweet

1. Ever performed in front of a large crowd - I did a slam poetry reading once.
2. Ever done drugs - Mmm...can I count chemo?
3. Ever got someone pregnant - No. I'm a girl
4. Ever kissed the same gender - Yes
5. Ever been on a cheerleading team - No, aren't they called squads though?
6. Ever been on a dance team - no
7. Ever been on a sports team - no
8. Ever been in a drama play/production - no
9. Ever owned a BMW, Mercedes Benz, Escalade, Hummer or Bentley? - no
10. Ever been in a rap video? - No, but that would be interesting.

1. Last phone call you made - I ordered a pizza
2. Last person you kissed - Dolly
3. Last group of people you hung out with - Simon and the girls
4. Last time you worked - I'm working for Val right now
5. Last time you had a night out - Simon took me to dinner on New Year's Eve
6. Last person you IM'd - Myself
8. Last person(s) you went to the movies with - I haven't been to a movie in a while
9. Last person/thing you missed - Nathan, I like talking to him.
10. Last TV show you watched- Something Simon likes...BSG?
autumninnewyork: (taking a nap)
The Snuggle Meme. Because everyone can use a snuggle now and again.

If your muse has ever wanted a good snuggle/cuddle/hug with my muse, comment here.

I'll write at least 250 words with the pairing. Every fic is to be considered just that, fanfiction, and not actually RP history unless you request that it is. You're welcome to leave any sort of suggestions for the fics you want, be it genre, a prompt or scenario. Things can be platonic or romantic, just let me know which one you’d prefer.
autumninnewyork: (curious)
Charlotte Fielding: How to Make a Considerate Death Bed. (And fold hospital corners)
autumninnewyork: (leaf)
Dying of a broken heart. Romantic?
autumninnewyork: (Default)
Subtle Tea was one of Charlotte’s favorite places in the city for people watching. The small shop and café catered to all sorts from the eccentric artist to the occasional celebrity, the college kids from the nearby campus, the rogue Starbucks employee that knew what real tea should taste like. They all fascinated her and the tea really was worth the trek across town.

Thursday afternoon found here there, nestled into her favorite spot between the front door and the street side window. Charlotte still wore her knit cap and a pair of fingerless gloves, but her coat was draped over the back of her chair. In front of her was a binder filled with the poems she had printed from her last internet query, each page in the process of being turned into a mini-work of art as she adorned then with colorful inks, beads, feathers…little notions and flights of fancy that made her smile. There was also a small rolled scroll of handmade paper tied with a combination of ribbon and raffia—a gift for her new friend.

The friend she was patiently waiting for and she was willing to bet she’d recognize him even though this would be the first time they’d come face to face. He had that sort of tangible exuberance about him that Charlotte was sure she’d feel as soon as he came through the door.

She hoped.
autumninnewyork: (Default)
1. Sweetest Thing-U2
2. Two Out of Three Ain't Bad-Meatloaf
3. Closer to Free-The Bodeans
4. Hey Baby-Bruce Channel
5. Under the Boardwalk-The Drifters
6. Mercy-Duffy
7. Holding Out For A Hero-Bonnie Tyler
8. Material Girl-Madonna
9. Catch My Disease-Ben Lee
10. Long Time Gone-Dixie Chicks
11. Centerfold-J. Giles Band
12. Love Roller Coaster-RHCP
13. 99 Red Balloons-Nena
autumninnewyork: (Default)
1. Is 22
2. Makes hats
3. Lives with her grandmother
4. Loves Central Park
5. Enjoys row boating
6. Dislikes violence
7. Collects antiques
8. Reads Dickinson
9. Does yoga
10. Says 'wow' a lot
11. Eats like a pig
12. Loves people
13. Is dying
autumninnewyork: (leaf)
Favorite poem--share it with me?
autumninnewyork: (are you nuts?)
I need to pick a pattern...
autumninnewyork: (curious)

At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live without Charlotte by my side.

Which song was this lyric from?

Get your own lyrics:

Will Keane, I think they are playing your song...
autumninnewyork: (are you nuts?)
I have a Simon. He’s my bitch.

That sounds worse than it really is, maybe even cruel. It’s not. I’m not. There’s this thing we do, Simon and I, after a night out at a club or a party—an event. He calls me up at an hour where even God refuses to start the day; I stumble from my bed and fumble for the phone before my grandmother can start swearing up a storm and then I bark at him in my cattiest voice, “I’m ready, bitch!”

Then we dish.

We discuss who was where and with whom, who was wearing what and if they shouldn’t have been, which person had the best hair or the worst makeup—basically all the bad things you think in the back of your mind while you are smiling and nodding mindlessly as you try to make sense of meaningless babble in a room with too many people and a sound system turned up too loud for meaningful conversation. It’s not very nice but I think it’s necessary. It’s a weird social catharsis we need in order to survive the next round of weekend mayhem.

I’d get a goldfish but I think it’s cruel to purchase something with a longer lifespan than mine.
autumninnewyork: (dreamer)
Life's too short to be unforgiving.


Apr. 1st, 2008 12:24 am
autumninnewyork: (leaf)
They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but that is not always true...since I’ve been here I’ve barely thought about Will at all. Well, I’ve thought about him. Wondered if he was worried about me or if he’s found himself a new girlfriend yet. Maybe mused is a more appropriate term for the way I’ve been considering him lately. I’ve had musings about Will Keene of late. Yes, that’s it. Musings.

But I haven’t missed him. There’s been no longing, no tears shed. I haven’t cried myself to sleep at night because I wanted to feel his arms around my middle, his breath at the back of my neck. I haven’t wondered about the sound of his voice or the brightness of his eyes, the way his hair is so unruly in the mornings. He hasn’t really come to the forefront of my thoughts until now.

And even now? He’s a pleasant memory, mostly. But I’m not missing him. Not here. Not when I have so much to learn, to see, to experience. Every day is something new, another adventure. It’s like a dream made corporeal. Ephemeral moments stretched into a seeming eternity. How can I ever miss the mundane when submerged in the ethereal?

And Will Keene? He’s a mundane.

Charlotte Fielding//Autumn in New York//213
autumninnewyork: (dreamer)
Central Park could itself seem enchanted under the right circumstances. The little slip of a woman sat curled upon a blanket; book in hand, reading of other long-ago enchantments of a more ethereal kind. The fading light of day didn’t register with Charlotte until she could no longer read the words of one William Shakespeare on the pages before her.

So lost had she been in the humorous (and tragic) tale of Oberon and Tatiana, the foolish and mischievous Puck and the mortals caught in between that she completely lost track of time. Paid little attention to the further chilling of the cold air as well, huddled into her winter coat as she was.

It was then that she saw it, the flickering light, just beyond the wintergreen shrubbery. It almost looked as if someone had left a strand of white Christmas lights tangled amongst the plants with the way it twinkled. Almost but not quite as there were only two, maybe three of these lights that Charlotte could see.

With childish intrigue that didn’t seem out of place for the young woman, sometimes described as a waif or a pixie, she left her blanket behind and crept towards the light. And then she heard it, a faint whisper. A tinkling that might have been laughter, if lights could laugh. Then they moved. Leapt further into the brush. Charlotte followed.

This little game went on for some time, getting closer then finding she was not close at all. So long in fact, that Charlotte eventually stopped and wondered when Central Park had become so wood-like and dense with foliage. The trees didn’t look right: they weren’t the oaks and alders she was used to seeing. No paths through the undergrowth and there wasn’t a bench in sight.

The very air

And the young woman gasped. There were suddenly more than a dozen of these twinkling lights, two three dozen…the trees filled with them. She realized she was lost.
autumninnewyork: (OMG)

Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

---Emily Dickinson

Lynn McCale. He did it again. Never really do change, do they? These men. Go around and around again, breaking hearts and like fools we forgive them. We believe the lines and the eyes full of sincerity, the whispers and the promises and the vows.

I thought, I thought he was changing. Wanted to change. Wanted to be with me. Me. A good test run, you know? Could he be faithful for such a short timespan? I'm on my way out, the perfect girl for a man like him.

Or did I not expire fast enough? No, wait, that's not fair. He doesn't want that, I know he doesn't. He panics and is beside himself whenever I end up in the hospital. I'm hurt but I won't be unfair. He's a creep but he's not a creep, the distinction's important to me even now. He's Will.

And the funny part, the ironic part, I find myself wondering if I really have any right to be angry with him. How can I demand he love me? Only me? How can I expect him to give me something he's never willingly shared with anyone? I'm not even going to be here long enough for it to matter and shouldn't a first love have some substance to it? Longevity? All I have to offer him is brevity and pain. Heartache and misery.

Is it really any wonder why he was fucking Lynn McCale? On the roof of his friend's house, while I was inside telling bedtime stories to the children? Okay, so that part is vile and reprehensible. Why couldn't he do it where I wouldn't find out? Where I could remain blissfully unaware and ignorant of his transgressions?

Or did he want to be caught?

And he says I'm the one who is just a kid. How childish is he?
autumninnewyork: (skating)

“In a year or so I’ll be a sob story so you can bag more chicks.”

He didn’t like me saying that. He never likes me saying anything humorous about my impending demise. Or dramatic things—like calling it my impending demise.

It’s funny to me that Will is more than twice my age. My antique. My old(er) man. I have to clarify that he’s older, not old, fragile male ego that he has. Funny because while he has all ready lived twice as long as I have, death still disturbs him in a way that it doesn’t me. Maybe it’s because I was made aware of my mortality (and that of everyone else’s) when I was young.

It wasn’t just my parents dying in a car accident that showed me that yes, Charlotte, we mortals are fragile things and can be snuffed out in an instant. It’s the fact that I’m sick. Well, not so much sick, but there’s a tumor growing in my chest that is eventually going to crush my heart. No one thought I’d last this long, really.

My tumor and I are both in things for the long haul, it seems. I’ve outlasted it longer than the doctors said I would. The tumor has bested radiation and chemotherapy when the doctors insisted it shouldn’t. You’d think I would stop listening to them, these wizened old learned beings, these doctors, but no. I can’t because I do know they are right, eventually the tumor will grow too large and my heart will be too weak and then I will die. I feel it sometimes, when I run too fast or take too deep a breath. Laugh too hard.

But see, that’s just it. I’m dying but I’m still laughing. I’m still living. And yes, in a year or so, Will Keane (New York’s hottest restaurateur) will once more be free to seduce the women of Manhattan. And who will be able to resist the handsome charmer with a tale of romance and love cut so tragically short?

I know I wouldn’t.

Charlotte Fielding//Autumn In New York//345
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