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BurningTyger PM
Joined Jan '01
BurningTyger has just turned eighteen. (She is lucky she didn't die of a heart attack when her mother and her friends pulled off their first real, un-spoiled surprise party ever.) She is a senior in high school and is currently kicking butt with the rest of her academic team, where she answers to the strange appellation of "Howie." She is also applying to colleges. This takes an insane amount of time and often keeps her from doing what she loves most -- writing fanfiction!

BurningTyger, who doesn't usually write in the third person, writes mainly for Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. Though she has posted many more Star Wars fics, she has several Lord of the Rings fics in the works. Unfortunately, she is a lazy bum and hasn't finished many of them. Okay, any of them. She also likes Moulin Rouge, Les Miserables, and Harry Potter. She cannot wait for the fifth book to come out, and is lobbying strongly for Ewan McGregor to play Remus Lupin in Prisoner of Azkaban.

When BurningTyger isn't writing fanfiction or suffering through a calculus class, she's playing or teaching piano, playing volleyball, or being Jane Austen in the drama club production of Emma. One wonders if she oughtn't to be learning her 627 lines instead of writing an inane and overlong biography that no one in his right mind would read.

Aren't you (gladdened/depressed/just plain terrified) by what you've learned here? Oh yeah: BurningTyger -- who, in an alternate universe, might be named "Sarah" -- also has a quote notebook. Since she doesn't want to study her lines or her calculus, she is going to treat you to her favorite poem. Don't you feel special?

I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that cannot be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

--John Masefield, "Sea Fever"

(Is that not a perfect expression of Legolas's thoughts as he and Gimli sail over the sea?)

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