la_belle_laide: (never been beautiful)



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This dream starts out with me at school. It's not the way the college is in reality, but the same "dream college" I always have. With a huge main room, like a kind of meeting hall. And for some reason an airline is close by. I don't know why that is.

Somehow or other I meet Cillian Murphy at my school and he asks me out. And I'm like, OMG, YES without even wondering why. A few weeks go by quickly and he doesn't do much but hang around. Eventually he begins asking me to get certain objects for him. It starts out with a key to the door of a utility room in the college. I bring him his key in exchange for a kiss. The next time I bring him something (a metal pole, I think,) he's got his shirt off.

Apparently I'm easily trained, because Cillian Murphy keeps asking me for various items and every time I bring him one, he's got one less piece of clothing on, so I'm inspired to keep on bringing him whatever. Thinking to myself, "COOL, soon it'll be just like in 28 Days Later. Full frontal!"

He actually doesn't move from this sofa he's on, either.

Eventually one of my college acquaintances (Margaret, real nice lady,) approaches me while I'm on my latest scavenger hunt and says to me, "Did you ever stop to think WHY Cillian Murphy asked you out?"

I ignore this and keep searching for the item.

Then, more people approach me with questions. "Why you? Did you ever wonder? What does a guy like that want with you? A famous actor? YOU? Think about this."

I'm defensive right away, telling them, "Maybe he likes smart girls! I got 106 on my final. Think about that."

But instead, I do start to think about it and I realize that he's probably up to something big. I've gotten him keys, scrap metal (I've got scrap metal on my mind lately, what-with figuring out how to take down the wrecked pool etc.) some plastic, a big metal pole, a map, and various other innocuous items that are vaguely nefarious in the dream when you put them together.

And I realize, holy crap, this isn't like 28 Days Later or Inception. This is like Red Eye. He's a terrorist and he's going to blow something up. Probably starting with my school!

Just as quickly, I realize I don't care. We're down to underwear now and my school is dumb anyway. So I keep on fetching the items.

END.

Uhh, what else. I got three baby birds on loan from a friend: two fledgling sparrows and a fledgling bluejay who is in the aviary.

I lost one of my first batch of birds in a really horrific and unusual way. He was a starling, and he somehow tore through a piece of the screen that lines the inside of the aviary, and crawled in between the screen and the chicken wire, where he got stuck. I didn't find him until he was a few hours dead. Awful.

I got 106 on my path2 final. Tomorrow is Med Massage 2 and I'm not as confident but can't wait for it to be over. Tomorrow is my last day of Clinic 1.

It's hot as hell; wish I could go to the beach for a few hours and swim.

Talked with my brother for a while today.

Can't get rid of the nitrates in my fish tank.

No Hula shows coming up.

I have a party to attend in a week and a half. There, I'll have fun, for sure.

In a corner of this glittering city
Just thinking out loud
This world is full of nothing but idiots, huh?
Broken hearts, city lights
And me just thinking out loud.
la_belle_laide: (never been beautiful)



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This dream starts out with me at school. It's not the way the college is in reality, but the same "dream college" I always have. With a huge main room, like a kind of meeting hall. And for some reason an airline is close by. I don't know why that is.

Somehow or other I meet Cillian Murphy at my school and he asks me out. And I'm like, OMG, YES without even wondering why. A few weeks go by quickly and he doesn't do much but hang around. Eventually he begins asking me to get certain objects for him. It starts out with a key to the door of a utility room in the college. I bring him his key in exchange for a kiss. The next time I bring him something (a metal pole, I think,) he's got his shirt off.

Apparently I'm easily trained, because Cillian Murphy keeps asking me for various items and every time I bring him one, he's got one less piece of clothing on, so I'm inspired to keep on bringing him whatever. Thinking to myself, "COOL, soon it'll be just like in 28 Days Later. Full frontal!"

He actually doesn't move from this sofa he's on, either.

Eventually one of my college acquaintances (Margaret, real nice lady,) approaches me while I'm on my latest scavenger hunt and says to me, "Did you ever stop to think WHY Cillian Murphy asked you out?"

I ignore this and keep searching for the item.

Then, more people approach me with questions. "Why you? Did you ever wonder? What does a guy like that want with you? A famous actor? YOU? Think about this."

I'm defensive right away, telling them, "Maybe he likes smart girls! I got 106 on my final. Think about that."

But instead, I do start to think about it and I realize that he's probably up to something big. I've gotten him keys, scrap metal (I've got scrap metal on my mind lately, what-with figuring out how to take down the wrecked pool etc.) some plastic, a big metal pole, a map, and various other innocuous items that are vaguely nefarious in the dream when you put them together.

And I realize, holy crap, this isn't like 28 Days Later or Inception. This is like Red Eye. He's a terrorist and he's going to blow something up. Probably starting with my school!

Just as quickly, I realize I don't care. We're down to underwear now and my school is dumb anyway. So I keep on fetching the items.

END.

Uhh, what else. I got three baby birds on loan from a friend: two fledgling sparrows and a fledgling bluejay who is in the aviary.

I lost one of my first batch of birds in a really horrific and unusual way. He was a starling, and he somehow tore through a piece of the screen that lines the inside of the aviary, and crawled in between the screen and the chicken wire, where he got stuck. I didn't find him until he was a few hours dead. Awful.

I got 106 on my path2 final. Tomorrow is Med Massage 2 and I'm not as confident but can't wait for it to be over. Tomorrow is my last day of Clinic 1.

It's hot as hell; wish I could go to the beach for a few hours and swim.

Talked with my brother for a while today.

Can't get rid of the nitrates in my fish tank.

No Hula shows coming up.

I have a party to attend in a week and a half. There, I'll have fun, for sure.

In a corner of this glittering city
Just thinking out loud
This world is full of nothing but idiots, huh?
Broken hearts, city lights
And me just thinking out loud.
la_belle_laide: (Default)



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A few weeks ago, someone in a small critique group in which I take part pointed out similarities between Qualia and the works of Roger Zelazny. Not in an "OMG you are just as fantastic as established and legendary writers!" sort of way, but more like, "You've got a similar premise." Which, I had no idea. But yeah, wannabe gods in a scientific world. Mine's more along the lines of steampunk, but still.

Anyway, I decided it would be in my interest to look into this Lord Of Light book , because I'd never even heard of it. Now I'm so glad I did.

It took me about fifty pages, actually. At first I thought the writing was way too formal for my taste, and kept wondering, "Is he kidding?" After a while, I realized that there was actually quite a handful of humor in his narrative. Then I went back and reread the first bits with different eyes.

I'm not even a quarter of the way through the book and already it's become the one that I think about at school. I semi-sorta thought about Dragon Tattoo and Played With Fire (haven't read Nest yet,) but honestly the Millennium trilogy drags for me in some spots. If it wasn't so violently feminist in theme, I might have given up on it after the first book. But once you get into them, they are page turners. Easily-satirized page-turners, but nonetheless.

Right, getting back to Lord of Light. Okay, awesome premise, wish I'd thought of that, oh wait I kind of did, wish I could write it as vividly. (Maybe with some more polishing?) A very sly book in some ways, which amuses me.

But whatever man, you all know me: I get fictional crushes up the wazoo. How can you not fall in love with Siddhartha/ Buddha/ Sam / the Lord of Light? Dude, what a fun character. I suddenly can't wait to go to bed and read some more.

There's one more weird thing I want to mention. A few nights ago, I had a dream about my Dad. Which I do frequently, but this one stood out. He was wearing his favorite shirt: one with horizontal blue and white stripes or a particular color blue. In the dream I kept looking all over for him, and finally I spotted his shirt. I kept telling everyone, "He's right there! Can't you see him! Look, that's his blue and white shirt." I couldn't hear what he was saying, but eventually I could read his lips. He was talking about some sort of christmas gift I'd given him. I woke up (crying my stupid face off) and thinking, "I have to remember to look for that blue and white striped shirt. It's important!"

Then last night in Kung Fu, I was working out with CC when I saw someone come to the door. Our school has all these signs up on the glass door and windows, so you can only see bits and pieces of people as they go by. And lurking outside of the door was the horizontal blue and white striped shirt. I must have had to pick my jaw off the floor. CC was like, "What? What's up?"

"Nothing," I said. "Someone's hanging around outside."

It's sort of an inside joke that I get weirded out when random people come into the school so I joked, "If that guy comes in, I'm gonna bark at him."

We had a bit of a laugh and then the guy did come in. It was the Gold Dragon.

We chatted for a while after class. I had left him a message to tell him about the pool collapsing, the neighbors wanting money, etc. and said if he felt like going to the beach or whatever he should hit me up. "Anytime you want," he says, "Whatever you wanna do. Yeah, let's do something next week. Wow. You really seem to have the worst luck. You're cursed, you know that? I hope it's not contagious. You have to break this spell or something. Hey, something's gonna go right. You know what you should do? You should play the lottery. Play Sweet Million or Mega Millions or something. Maybe your luck will change."

I dunno, man, I'm stupid and I totally believe in signs. Dad's blue and white shirt, a suggestion to play the lottery? I'm on it.

Actually, to tell the truth, I played it a few weeks ago, too. I know it's ridiculous and I could use that dollar for something I need, like lunch or half a gallon of gas or whatever. But, I mean, someone wins, right? It does happen.

Well, I think it's worth a shot or two, maybe.

It occurs to me how I, and everyone I have ever met, gradually downgrade our standards whenever whenever the subject of winning money comes up. "WOW, the Mega Millions! What would you do with all that money? I can think of a few things! But actually, I'd be happy with like, three million. To tell you the truth though, I could get by with one million. Really I just want to keep my house and pay my bills. I sure wouldn't cry if I won thirty thousand. Shoot, even a few hundred would be nice right about now. What the hell, I'd be glad if I found twenty bucks on the street. Has anyone got a dollar I could borrow?"

I wonder if I do that with everything. I'll bet I do and I don't even realize it.

Wow, this post started out being about Lord of Light and my new fictional crush and look at where it went.

Health and peace.

Three million dollars.

Book deal (nothing to do with money – I just really, really want it.)

And some other stuff too.
la_belle_laide: (dream bigger)



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I dreamed last night that the guy I'm Z-targeting ("Chocolate," let's call him - was: Anime Lazzara but that's way too unwieldy,) decided to move out west. I hope that isn't one of those stupid prescient dreams of mine, but it does quite fit in with the way these things usually go. Well, we'll see, eh? Also, [livejournal.com profile] spatterdash was in the dream. We were staying at some kind of campus and couldn't find our way around.

I'm not sure if my toe is broken. And I realize that this was just on failblog this morning, which is kind of odd, but I really can't tell. It's all swollen and I can only move it a little. It woke me up this morning by hurting like a bitch. Hmm. *ignores it*

It's gonna rain tonight, of course, since I watered the dry, brown grass. The other way I can make it rain is by releasing birds. That actually brings huge, epic storms. I've never tried washing my car; I wonder if that counts as a rain-dance, too. I hear it does.

Here is an epic, hilarious manga-nization of FFVII that I need to share with you all. It made my day. :)

Aaaaand that's it for now.
la_belle_laide: (dream bigger)



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I dreamed last night that the guy I'm Z-targeting ("Chocolate," let's call him - was: Anime Lazzara but that's way too unwieldy,) decided to move out west. I hope that isn't one of those stupid prescient dreams of mine, but it does quite fit in with the way these things usually go. Well, we'll see, eh? Also, [livejournal.com profile] spatterdash was in the dream. We were staying at some kind of campus and couldn't find our way around.

I'm not sure if my toe is broken. And I realize that this was just on failblog this morning, which is kind of odd, but I really can't tell. It's all swollen and I can only move it a little. It woke me up this morning by hurting like a bitch. Hmm. *ignores it*

It's gonna rain tonight, of course, since I watered the dry, brown grass. The other way I can make it rain is by releasing birds. That actually brings huge, epic storms. I've never tried washing my car; I wonder if that counts as a rain-dance, too. I hear it does.

Here is an epic, hilarious manga-nization of FFVII that I need to share with you all. It made my day. :)

Aaaaand that's it for now.
la_belle_laide: (snarkgasm)



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I was supposed to dance today. I had my costume and music all ready, even hand-made a new hip hei (it kind of sucks though,) and was good to go. But the time and place got all screwed up, and I never found out where I was supposed to meet the group, and the roads were closed. I was going to do one Tahitian, yeah, a two and a half minute dance, and yeah I would have driven the 40 or so miles out there just for two minutes of dancing. But it wasn't to be. I got up at 8 AM on a day off (no work this weekend) for absolutely zip.

Well, not really. I got a lot done this morning, cleaned, vacuumed, did some laundry, and studied for three hours for the path2 midterm. If I don't ace that bitch, something is wrong.

Umm, yesterday I tried to replace my water filters but one of them is broken. I need to change / refill my fish tank water and I can't. I get so worried when I can't change the water. The company is really awesome though, and they are sending me a free replacement. Still, my fish!

My fish must think I'm out of my mind. A few times a week I'll have a half a glass of red wine at Mom's while we watch Family Guy, then go to my place and feed my fish, and to Gran's to let Belle out and feed my other fish which are in that room.

Me: "FISHIES! Wiggle-swim fishies, time for foods! HI LEON! You are so magnificent! Fishie fish fish! You guys are the FISHIEST fish ever! Kiss, kiss!"

Fish: "Is that lip balm stuck to our tank? Oh my god. She had wine again."

Last night I tried this new ice cream called Arctic Zero. It's got 128 calories for the entire pint and it doesn't have any HFCS or any aspartame junk. Instead it uses this "Whey Low" stuff which, I have no idea what that is or how it works. The web site gives you some junk about how these three kinds of sugar interfere with each other so you can't digest it and OH MY GOD EPIPHANY THIS EXPLAINS THE DREAM I HAD. Duh.

Last night I had one of those crack dreams again where I make the person in trouble stand aside so that that I can handle it. Last night it was Dr. House. In the dream, he had found a way to get high without vicodin. It turned out that there was a chemical in spinach that he couldn't assimilate, and the resulting reaction made it so that it could pass the blood-brain barrier and act like marijuana. Dude, I know, I know. What the hell. So he was eating all this spinach and Wilson was curious and concerned, wondering what was with the spinach obsession. Then Wilson's girlfriend (I can't remember her name, but it's the same one from the actual show,) started googling it. House of course didn't care and kept getting spinach-high, until he ate too much and fell down beside his bed. I remember everything was sort of smoky and wavy. I pretty much figured he was going to die if he didn't do something, so I made him leave and took over, as I always do in dreams like these. I made him walk up to the roof of their apartment building, where Wilson and his girlfriend were on a swing-set. The girlfriend was swinging really high, to the edge of the building. Then she decided to stand up on the swing. I / House thought that was dangerous – we were pretty sure she was going to pitch over the ledge. I wanted to do something about it, but House didn't. Fortunately I was in control, so I decided to tell Wilson. However, he was playing in a ball pit. I thought, "Maybe this is why he's on spinach," and then I woke up.

Right! So I tried this Arctic Zero stuff and it did not make me high, and hopefully it didn't pass the blood-brain barrier and I didn't explode or grow an extra limb or anything like that. But I'm still not sold on the idea. Things like this that sound too good to be true usually are. Seriously, 3 kinds of sugar canceling each other out? Doesn't that sound like one of those diet-jokes? "Oh yeah, hur hur, if you eat two cupcakes they cancel each other out!" It didn't taste too bad though.

And Mom and I watched Revenge Of The Sith. I forgot how terrible / awesome that movie was. One of those things where, when it's bad it's abysmal ("UR BEAUTIFUL CUZ I LOVE U!!!" "OMG NO U!") and when it's good it's fantastic (Hello there! It's quite possible that he's the most beautiful man on earth.) This was my favorite scene. I thought it was brilliant. Two Jedi – or rather, a Jedi and a Sith, with flashy lightsabers and the Force and fancy moves and whatnot, and they get so fired up that to hell with the lightsabers, I'm just gonna choke a bitch with my bare hands because that's how much I hate/love/hate you! My other best part is when Obi-wan finds general Grievous (of all the things I'm writing and raving about now, yeah, writing that name makes me feel retarded,) and hundreds of enemy soldiers everywhere, and he thinks about it for a minute. "Hmm, this could be tricky, I'm massively outnumbered. What should I do?" And then he jumps down into the center of them like "Hey what's up, kicking everyone's ass now!"

How the hell did I get onto Star Wars? Jesus. No more crack for me. At least not this late at night.

Aaaanyway. Yeah, today. So I cleaned and studied and blah blah. And got lots of critiquing done for various writing workshops, but did absolutely no work on my own writing. :/ Ehh. Soon.

But not tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm going out with Lady Chrysanthemum to see Kung Fu Karate Kid. I hope it doesn't piss me off. I want to like it. I love Jackie Chan. Yes. He can be trusted to keep Kung Fu sacred. :) It's nice of her to have kept me in mind for tomorrow. She's quite lovely.

The Gold Dragon called me today and we talked for a long time. He wanted to see how everything is going ("Just calling to see, you know, how you guys are...But I guess you don't want to talk about..." No, I don't. But it was a kind gesture to call.) He misses class, and I miss him, and we're trying to figure out a day to go to China Town. But maybe a few of us this time. Me, Dragon and Snarklit, maybe Chrysanthemum and we'll ask Jedi Ronin, too. But in the end, bet you anything it'll just be the three of us. Which is also fine. He's such a good dude, this Dragon. Class is not the same without him.

Tomorrow I'm sleeping till 10 AM, cleaning the birds, going to the movies, and then, with whatever time I have left during the day, maybe writing/revising, or some more studying. Definitely some jogging and some dancing. Oh, jogging's going really well since I got those superfly sneakers. Mostly I'm going to ignore tomorrow until it's done. :)

And if not, I always have these silly fannish thoughts to occupy my mind. God, it's weird inside my head.

ETA: Gacked from William Gibson (God I love saying that,) Seizure-inducing photographs of Meiji Japan. These kind of rule, if you can handle the eye-strain.
la_belle_laide: (snarkgasm)



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I was supposed to dance today. I had my costume and music all ready, even hand-made a new hip hei (it kind of sucks though,) and was good to go. But the time and place got all screwed up, and I never found out where I was supposed to meet the group, and the roads were closed. I was going to do one Tahitian, yeah, a two and a half minute dance, and yeah I would have driven the 40 or so miles out there just for two minutes of dancing. But it wasn't to be. I got up at 8 AM on a day off (no work this weekend) for absolutely zip.

Well, not really. I got a lot done this morning, cleaned, vacuumed, did some laundry, and studied for three hours for the path2 midterm. If I don't ace that bitch, something is wrong.

Umm, yesterday I tried to replace my water filters but one of them is broken. I need to change / refill my fish tank water and I can't. I get so worried when I can't change the water. The company is really awesome though, and they are sending me a free replacement. Still, my fish!

My fish must think I'm out of my mind. A few times a week I'll have a half a glass of red wine at Mom's while we watch Family Guy, then go to my place and feed my fish, and to Gran's to let Belle out and feed my other fish which are in that room.

Me: "FISHIES! Wiggle-swim fishies, time for foods! HI LEON! You are so magnificent! Fishie fish fish! You guys are the FISHIEST fish ever! Kiss, kiss!"

Fish: "Is that lip balm stuck to our tank? Oh my god. She had wine again."

Last night I tried this new ice cream called Arctic Zero. It's got 128 calories for the entire pint and it doesn't have any HFCS or any aspartame junk. Instead it uses this "Whey Low" stuff which, I have no idea what that is or how it works. The web site gives you some junk about how these three kinds of sugar interfere with each other so you can't digest it and OH MY GOD EPIPHANY THIS EXPLAINS THE DREAM I HAD. Duh.

Last night I had one of those crack dreams again where I make the person in trouble stand aside so that that I can handle it. Last night it was Dr. House. In the dream, he had found a way to get high without vicodin. It turned out that there was a chemical in spinach that he couldn't assimilate, and the resulting reaction made it so that it could pass the blood-brain barrier and act like marijuana. Dude, I know, I know. What the hell. So he was eating all this spinach and Wilson was curious and concerned, wondering what was with the spinach obsession. Then Wilson's girlfriend (I can't remember her name, but it's the same one from the actual show,) started googling it. House of course didn't care and kept getting spinach-high, until he ate too much and fell down beside his bed. I remember everything was sort of smoky and wavy. I pretty much figured he was going to die if he didn't do something, so I made him leave and took over, as I always do in dreams like these. I made him walk up to the roof of their apartment building, where Wilson and his girlfriend were on a swing-set. The girlfriend was swinging really high, to the edge of the building. Then she decided to stand up on the swing. I / House thought that was dangerous – we were pretty sure she was going to pitch over the ledge. I wanted to do something about it, but House didn't. Fortunately I was in control, so I decided to tell Wilson. However, he was playing in a ball pit. I thought, "Maybe this is why he's on spinach," and then I woke up.

Right! So I tried this Arctic Zero stuff and it did not make me high, and hopefully it didn't pass the blood-brain barrier and I didn't explode or grow an extra limb or anything like that. But I'm still not sold on the idea. Things like this that sound too good to be true usually are. Seriously, 3 kinds of sugar canceling each other out? Doesn't that sound like one of those diet-jokes? "Oh yeah, hur hur, if you eat two cupcakes they cancel each other out!" It didn't taste too bad though.

And Mom and I watched Revenge Of The Sith. I forgot how terrible / awesome that movie was. One of those things where, when it's bad it's abysmal ("UR BEAUTIFUL CUZ I LOVE U!!!" "OMG NO U!") and when it's good it's fantastic (Hello there! It's quite possible that he's the most beautiful man on earth.) This was my favorite scene. I thought it was brilliant. Two Jedi – or rather, a Jedi and a Sith, with flashy lightsabers and the Force and fancy moves and whatnot, and they get so fired up that to hell with the lightsabers, I'm just gonna choke a bitch with my bare hands because that's how much I hate/love/hate you! My other best part is when Obi-wan finds general Grievous (of all the things I'm writing and raving about now, yeah, writing that name makes me feel retarded,) and hundreds of enemy soldiers everywhere, and he thinks about it for a minute. "Hmm, this could be tricky, I'm massively outnumbered. What should I do?" And then he jumps down into the center of them like "Hey what's up, kicking everyone's ass now!"

How the hell did I get onto Star Wars? Jesus. No more crack for me. At least not this late at night.

Aaaanyway. Yeah, today. So I cleaned and studied and blah blah. And got lots of critiquing done for various writing workshops, but did absolutely no work on my own writing. :/ Ehh. Soon.

But not tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm going out with Lady Chrysanthemum to see Kung Fu Karate Kid. I hope it doesn't piss me off. I want to like it. I love Jackie Chan. Yes. He can be trusted to keep Kung Fu sacred. :) It's nice of her to have kept me in mind for tomorrow. She's quite lovely.

The Gold Dragon called me today and we talked for a long time. He wanted to see how everything is going ("Just calling to see, you know, how you guys are...But I guess you don't want to talk about..." No, I don't. But it was a kind gesture to call.) He misses class, and I miss him, and we're trying to figure out a day to go to China Town. But maybe a few of us this time. Me, Dragon and Snarklit, maybe Chrysanthemum and we'll ask Jedi Ronin, too. But in the end, bet you anything it'll just be the three of us. Which is also fine. He's such a good dude, this Dragon. Class is not the same without him.

Tomorrow I'm sleeping till 10 AM, cleaning the birds, going to the movies, and then, with whatever time I have left during the day, maybe writing/revising, or some more studying. Definitely some jogging and some dancing. Oh, jogging's going really well since I got those superfly sneakers. Mostly I'm going to ignore tomorrow until it's done. :)

And if not, I always have these silly fannish thoughts to occupy my mind. God, it's weird inside my head.

ETA: Gacked from William Gibson (God I love saying that,) Seizure-inducing photographs of Meiji Japan. These kind of rule, if you can handle the eye-strain.
la_belle_laide: (Default)



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I keep having this one dream that I'm in Disneyworld with Dad, and the same thing happens each time. He comes walking up to me, looks around Disneyworld and says, "They changed it. I don't know if I"m gonna like it, but let's see." Then we'll go on a ride and it's all different and weird. Last night, it was supposed to be Epcot Center. Also, Mom was there, Gran, and a bunch of my cousins (pretty much all of them who have ever gone on a trip with me.) We got on this new ride that was supposed to be a space journey or something. But one of the workers insisted that I wasn't who I said I was and kept asking me for ID. All I had was my library card and eventually she took it.

I'm pretty sure that Dad in these dreams is my own subconscious going, "Someday I'll go back to Florida, but it'll be different and I don't know if I'll like it."

Then I had my other recurring dream: the "Someone else is in trouble and I'd better take care of this for them." Last night it was Benecio Del Toro (because I watched Wolfman with Mom last night.) It was similar to the movie, only this time I had to stop all these bad things from happening to him. So I "jumped in" like I always do, and start dodging bullets, running, leaping, hiding behind pillars and such. Because, I'm really cool like that.

Anyway, so last night while watching Wolfman, Mom and I were eating ice cream and more or less MSTing the entire movie. At one point I meant to say something about, "Shooting at this werewolf on the rooftops of London" and instead I said wolftops of London. About five minutes later, my Mom accidentally said "wolftops" too and then we were just LOLing all over the place. Sometimes it's the most dumbass things that get me going. Well, most times.

Work today was pretty decent. My supervisor came in for a scheduled "coaching session" and to see how I was doing in my store etc. It went really well. People were really interested in what I had to say today, I sold a lot, and then Supervisor bought me lunch and said that I was doing really well and she didn't really have anything to add. We talked a while; she is very pleasant. And I got some cool t shirts, too.

Clinic is also pretty decent. Thursday I had some really good patients and a few repeat ones. I also did an extra treatment, because I had gone upstairs to be a standby (to get a treatment,) but someone had called in sick and this patient had driven all the way out there and had no one to treat her. So I said, Well, I'm already in my whites and I've got nothing else to do, so. I got credit for it too. Afterwards, I got a new patient who was iffy on the Amma treatment but said she'd give it a shot. So I did the whole treatment and afterwards she was very pleased. She actually said I was the best practitioner she'd ever met, and she booked me for the rest of the term! WHOA! My next patient was equally enthusiastic, and my final one of the night is my high-profile one. She told me that she would be willing to be my pathology patient next term. Which, I hope that works out because those can be hard to find. At the end of the day, I was writing up all my charts, when the receptionist came in and told me, "Everyone who walked out of here today said you were fantastic." I was like WOOT and the best part was that my two clinic supervisors were standing right there. Whew!

Also, that day I got 102 on one of my tests, and 97 on a pop quiz. I felt very relieved, as I'd been stressing over having gotten an 83 on the last test. 83. WTF.

Yesterday (Friday) was so mellow. I went grocery shopping, cleaned the fish tanks, went jogging, practiced some Hula, did a few critiques, and used this organic bug spray to try to kill the infestation of hibiscus sawfly that has wrecked both my dinnerplate hibiscus plants. They used to wait until August to start killing them; now the leaves are like lace before they even get a chance to open. I went nuts out there spraying the plants, pulling the dead, chewed up leaves off, and slapping down the larvae wherever I found them. It was disgusting.

This is what they do to the leaves:
Expandlace leaf )

And this is one of the bastard larvae:
ExpandBASTARD. )

I came inside, washed all up, and sat down at the computer. I kept feeling this itching, prickling sensation on my wrist and I put it out of my mind, figuring that of course I was going to have that grossed out, prickling feeling for the rest of the day. Then it started to burn, and I looked down and found one of the larvae bastards on my wrist.

ExpandTHEY BITE. )

I hate them forever and ever and I want them all to die.

Speaking of gross, slithery, parasitic things, here's another little story from work today.

So, I'm just packing up to leave, and I stop to pet this nervous little dog in a shopping cart. The woman says to me, "Be careful, she bites." I tell her, That's all right; I like nervous little dogs and I usually get along with them. The dog let me pet it, and the lady says, "Didn't you used to work at The Bad Place?" I tell her that I did and she says, "You used to take care of my (so and so's) (aggressive exotic pet)!" Oh, I remember (aggressive exotic pet!), and I remember so-and-so! She informs me that said exotic pet has died and I express my sympathy.

She then asks why she hasn't seen me around and I tell her, "That didn't end well, unfortunately."

And she asks, "Was it because of Dr. Dickwhistle?" Why yes, in fact it was. "I thought so," she says. "I just don't like him. He rubs me the wrong way. His personality is just...weird. And I don't think he's a good vet."

'He's not, in my opinion," I tell her.

She goes on to tell me—get this-- "He misdiagnosed my dog. He said it was arthritis and..."

"And it was bone cancer," I finish for her. She confirms. "He did the same thing to my dog," I tell her. "My dog was gone a month later, because he kept sending her home with aspirin. And," I go on, "he made another mistake with my other dog, one that cost me about $15K."

"Ridiculous," she says, "I can't stand him. He can't look you in the eye. He's just no good."

"I agree," I tell her. "They do have some good vets there—Dr. Such-And-Such is one of them—but as for him, I wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire." (And, among friends I usually add, "But I might if he wasn't.")

So! We had a little bonding session over the general ickiness and failings of Dr. Dickwhistle. I always feel terrible when people tell me their stories of him. But also a little gratified, in a weird way. Like, yeah, I'm not the only one who sees this.

Blah-de-blah, that was my exciting week, sorta. For now, please enjoy some of the usual pics of my dogs, my fish and my gardens and junk.

ExpandPICSPAM )

And now for some fish!
ExpandFISH! )

Hee. Fish. Awesome.

Well, now I'm gonna take the dogs out and maybe put dinner on for me and Mom. She's borrowed a copy of a certain really mad awesome film, so we'll be watching that tonight. Yeah boyeeeeeee.
la_belle_laide: (Default)



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I keep having this one dream that I'm in Disneyworld with Dad, and the same thing happens each time. He comes walking up to me, looks around Disneyworld and says, "They changed it. I don't know if I"m gonna like it, but let's see." Then we'll go on a ride and it's all different and weird. Last night, it was supposed to be Epcot Center. Also, Mom was there, Gran, and a bunch of my cousins (pretty much all of them who have ever gone on a trip with me.) We got on this new ride that was supposed to be a space journey or something. But one of the workers insisted that I wasn't who I said I was and kept asking me for ID. All I had was my library card and eventually she took it.

I'm pretty sure that Dad in these dreams is my own subconscious going, "Someday I'll go back to Florida, but it'll be different and I don't know if I'll like it."

Then I had my other recurring dream: the "Someone else is in trouble and I'd better take care of this for them." Last night it was Benecio Del Toro (because I watched Wolfman with Mom last night.) It was similar to the movie, only this time I had to stop all these bad things from happening to him. So I "jumped in" like I always do, and start dodging bullets, running, leaping, hiding behind pillars and such. Because, I'm really cool like that.

Anyway, so last night while watching Wolfman, Mom and I were eating ice cream and more or less MSTing the entire movie. At one point I meant to say something about, "Shooting at this werewolf on the rooftops of London" and instead I said wolftops of London. About five minutes later, my Mom accidentally said "wolftops" too and then we were just LOLing all over the place. Sometimes it's the stupidest things that get me going. Well, most times.

Work today was pretty decent. My supervisor came in for a scheduled "coaching session" and to see how I was doing in my store etc. It went really well. People were really interested in what I had to say today, I sold a lot, and then Supervisor bought me lunch and said that I was doing really well and she didn't really have anything to add. We talked a while; she is very pleasant. And I got some cool t shirts, too.

Clinic is also pretty decent. Thursday I had some really good patients and a few repeat ones. I also did an extra treatment, because I had gone upstairs to be a standby (to get a treatment,) but someone had called in sick and this patient had driven all the way out there and had no one to treat her. So I said, Well, I'm already in my whites and I've got nothing else to do, so. I got credit for it too. Afterwards, I got a new patient who was iffy on the Amma treatment but said she'd give it a shot. So I did the whole treatment and afterwards she was very pleased. She actually said I was the best practitioner she'd ever met, and she booked me for the rest of the term! WHOA! My next patient was equally enthusiastic, and my final one of the night is my high-profile one. She told me that she would be willing to be my pathology patient next term. Which, I hope that works out because those can be hard to find. At the end of the day, I was writing up all my charts, when the receptionist came in and told me, "Everyone who walked out of here today said you were fantastic." I was like WOOT and the best part was that my two clinic supervisors were standing right there. Whew!

Also, that day I got 102 on one of my tests, and 97 on a pop quiz. I felt very relieved, as I'd been stressing over having gotten an 83 on the last test. 83. WTF.

Yesterday (Friday) was so mellow. I went grocery shopping, cleaned the fish tanks, went jogging, practiced some Hula, did a few critiques, and used this organic bug spray to try to kill the infestation of hibiscus sawfly that has wrecked both my dinnerplate hibiscus plants. They used to wait until August to start killing them; now the leaves are like lace before they even get a chance to open. I went nuts out there spraying the plants, pulling the dead, chewed up leaves off, and slapping down the larvae wherever I found them. It was disgusting.

This is what they do to the leaves:
Expandlace leaf )

And this is one of the bastard larvae:
ExpandBASTARD. )

I came inside, washed all up, and sat down at the computer. I kept feeling this itching, prickling sensation on my wrist and I put it out of my mind, figuring that of course I was going to have that grossed out, prickling feeling for the rest of the day. Then it started to burn, and I looked down and found one of the larvae bastards on my wrist.

ExpandTHEY BITE. )

I hate them forever and ever and I want them all to die.

Speaking of gross, slithery, parasitic things, here's another little story from work today.

So, I'm just packing up to leave, and I stop to pet this nervous little dog in a shopping cart. The woman says to me, "Be careful, she bites." I tell her, That's all right; I like nervous little dogs and I usually get along with them. The dog let me pet it, and the lady says, "Didn't you used to work at The Bad Place?" I tell her that I did and she says, "You used to take care of my (so and so's) (aggressive exotic pet)!" Oh, I remember (aggressive exotic pet!), and I remember so-and-so! She informs me that said exotic pet has died and I express my sympathy.

She then asks why she hasn't seen me around and I tell her, "That didn't end well, unfortunately."

And she asks, "Was it because of Dr. Dickwhistle?" Why yes, in fact it was. "I thought so," she says. "I just don't like him. He rubs me the wrong way. His personality is just...weird. And I don't think he's a good vet."

'He's not, in my opinion," I tell her.

She goes on to tell me—get this-- "He misdiagnosed my dog. He said it was arthritis and..."

"And it was bone cancer," I finish for her. She confirms. "He did the same thing to my dog," I tell her. "My dog was gone a month later, because he kept sending her home with aspirin. And," I go on, "he made another mistake with my other dog, one that cost me about $15K."

"Ridiculous," she says, "I can't stand him. He can't look you in the eye. He's just no good."

"I agree," I tell her. "They do have some good vets there—Dr. Such-And-Such is one of them—but as for him, I wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire." (And, among friends I usually add, "But I might if he wasn't.")

So! We had a little bonding session over the general ickiness and failings of Dr. Dickwhistle. I always feel terrible when people tell me their stories of him. But also a little gratified, in a weird way. Like, yeah, I'm not the only one who sees this.

Blah-de-blah, that was my exciting week, sorta. For now, please enjoy some of the usual pics of my dogs, my fish and my gardens and junk.

ExpandPICSPAM )

And now for some fish!
ExpandFISH! )

Hee. Fish. Awesome.

Well, now I'm gonna take the dogs out and maybe put dinner on for me and Mom. She's borrowed a copy of a certain really mad awesome film, so we'll be watching that tonight. Yeah boyeeeeeee.
la_belle_laide: (dream bigger)



counter for blogger



This morning I had the most ridiculously obvious dream, but it was so intense that I need to write it down.

It begins with me on a beach in Southold about, maybe ten years ago or maybe more. I know it was a long time ago because I was on the beach with friends I would have been with way long ago. Since this dream seems to be is clearly about time (and what it does, or what we do with it and what I guess I specifically wish I could do with it,) I have to point out "where" it begins and where it goes. It's so obvious in retrospect. Subconscious, why must you act the fool? I know these things, jesus christ. No need to beat me over the head with the Obvious Bat.

So I'm on the beach with friends, and I decide that I'm going to take a kind of rip-tide home. In the dream, there's a rip-tide that I know goes through the underground, through caves, over bridges, under bridges, all over the damn place, but it leads me home. And I decide to do that instead of getting a ride, or driving. My friend tells me, "The last time you went with the tide, you had a kayak. This time you don't even have a raft. I think it's dangerous."

"I've got this," I tell her. And I hold up an old, ratty, torn grey blanket. It's not even big; it's like the size of a stupid bath towel. "This will hold me afloat."

So I jump into the rip-tide and start riding it. It's exciting, exhilarating even, like body-surfing (which I used to do a lot,) and warm . Soon it takes me into this underground tunnel, and everything goes dark. The rip-tide starts to move really fast (think: escape from the island in RE4, only without a boat, and darker.) I start thinking, "This is going way too fast. And I can't see what's coming next. And I can't remember what was in my way last time." So I hold onto my ratty blanket with one hand and put the other one out in front of me, this way if I run into any, like, huge rocks or walls, or stalagmites on the way, I can break through them with my palm instead of going face-first into them. Now, it's not exhilarating, but dangerous and unpredictable in the dark water. Also, really cold.

Finally there's a Light At The End Of The Tunnel, and in the middle of all this quick-moving water is an old house. Kind of looks like one of the cabins my family used to own in upstate NY. The water flows right through it and I think, "Hey, I remember this. There's a way back home through here." So I let the tide whisk me up to the door, then I bang the door open with my palm and start riding the water through the house. There's a guy in the next room sitting on an old, dirty couch, watching TV and smoking a bowl. O_O He looks like one of the bad guys from Dexter, maybe. The water is just about waist-level to him but he doesn't seem to mind. He gives me a funny look as I go towel-surfing by but doesn't comment. I take the water upstairs (screw physics,) and go out the upstairs door. Now I can see the bridge home, 105. But, as it always is in my (rare) dreams about my town, it's FRIGGING HUGE, a towering draw-bridge hundreds of feet over deep water. And the bridge itself is a waterway. Not a nice, gentle one, but bubbling with turbulence. I'm thinking, "Holy christ, I will never be able to navigate that water. It's going to pitch me right over the side. I know I remember another way! But, I'll have to go through that stoned guy's house again, and something about him feels wrong."

I don't see any other logical choice, so I swing back around (one-way tide, what?) and go through his door again. This time he's got two other guys on the couch with him and I ask them, "Hey you guys, so I remember years ago there was an easier way through this turbulence. Can you tell me which way that is?"

The first stoned guy says, "You have to go upstairs and go out the door on the right instead of the left. There will be two water slides and one of them will take you to the lower bridge which is easier."

"Thanks," I say. "And, sorry for busting through your door. I honestly thought this house was empty."

He says, "Don't worry about it. Most people come surfing through here thinking that it's a spa and they're going to find a sauna."

I start thinking how nice that would be – a relaxing spa, a sauna, getting out of this crazy water. This rip-tide riding was a bad idea. And I realize that time has passed. Lots of time, and I've just been riding around in this crazy water. People are going to wonder were I am.

I thank the guys and ride up on the stairs again, this time taking the other door. I emerge on the other side in a water-park way high above the town, with lots of people lined up to take the water-slides. This isn't travel for them, but recreation. No one's walking. Like me, they're all floating on something. Most of them have actual floats, and all of a sudden I realize how stupid it was to set out with nothing but a stupid grey towel. But, at least the water here is still. So I get in line, floating behind a bunch of folks waiting their turn.

And I wait. And wait. And frigging wait. Hours go by and finally I just let loose. "WHAT THE HELL IS THE HOLD UP HERE?! I was supposed to be through this already, like, hours ago! And here I am hanging around, and this water is getting dirty and gross with all these people in it. Can't we move this along? Jesus, why did the line stop?!" I look to my left and see two ticket-windows for the water-slides. There are two women behind the glass (also floating in the water) and the one for my water-slide puts a sign in her window saying "CLOSED" with some indecipherable reason written underneath. Now I'm really pissed off. Like, this water-slide has been closed all these years and no one bothered to tell me? The other people on line start grumbling, one saying that he's missed a Bon Jovi concert because of the holdup, another guy saying that he missed a Jonas Brothers concert. (O_O )

I'm still pissed and I yell, "You know what, EFF THIS, I waited here all this time, and now how am I supposed to get home? No cell phone, no land line, I don't have the keys to my car (and when I said it, I pictured the keys to my old car, my beloved Shinigami) and there's no way in hell I'm going back to do this all again!"

I start to consider that the only way to go is over the turbulent water bridge, and I'll just have to deal with the danger.

Then, literally, I got bored and woke myself up. Not angry, or afraid to go on, just full-on bored.

My brain, she has no need for subtlety and she spits on in, PTOOEY.

My last two dreams have been equally intense and lingering. You know those dreams that stick to your brain like peanut butter to the back of your throat. Except, all damn day. The one I had the night before was about Dad, Disneyworld, hospitals and other things. It bothered me and I didn't like it. But there was one funny part in that dream and it was when I was in this big building in Disneyworld, trying to get to the top floor. There were no stairs, but they advertised these rooms to take you to the top. "The magic of flight!" the signs said. "Don't use your legs to climb stairs, let our newfangled rooms take you there – LEGLESS." And I said, to no one, "Please. That's just called an elevator. You can't trick me."

Seriously, some nice, stupid, floaty dreams, please. Or even better, one of my exciting adventure ones that inspire me to write like a demon. One of my "character in distress – I must figure this out!" dreams that lights the fire in my brain for the rest of the day. I love those. That's the one I want next.

Anyway, so since I was a good girl today and I did much of what was on my to-do list (laundry, homework, study, phone call, dishes,) instead of spending five hours on tvtropes.com like I did yesterday, I decided to, uhh, go to tvtropes.com and see if I couldn't trope myself. Not my story, but myself. That website has got everything covered and I think we all fit into real life examples of that sometimes. Does anyone care to join me? Sounds like fun, right? Well, to me. Here are my tropes.

I think I can be a little mama bear, once in a while. Most especially over my three cousins, but even to the Kung Fu kids. I never let them wait for their rides alone, and on the few occasions that someone has messed with the Kung Fu kids at the academy, I guess I don't take it lightly. I did kind of chase a guy away from one of the young students once, outside of the school. I don't qualify as badass normal, but I do know Kung Fu, so within the last few years, I did kind of take a level in badass. Maybe I minored in asskicking. And I am most definitely a Kick Chick. But really probably more of a medic.

Either way, my choices are always chaotic good.

Would love to be tall dark and bishoujo, but, meh, alas and all of that. On the other hand, my life has definitely taken a turn for the josei. And definitely silly rabbit, romance is for kids.

I guess I can be a little tsundere.

I am a HUGE user of heehee you said X, your mom, That's What She Said, the Unusual Dysphemism, and If you know what I mean.

I'm a frequent user of aposiopesis so, yeah.

God, please don't click on all of those links. What a pain in the ass. :)

Oh, and, completely having fun in this comment thread. I love when this kind of conversation takes place on my own LJ. :D
la_belle_laide: (dream bigger)



counter for blogger



This morning I had the most ridiculously obvious dream, but it was so intense that I need to write it down.

It begins with me on a beach in Southold about, maybe ten years ago or maybe more. I know it was a long time ago because I was on the beach with friends I would have been with way long ago. Since this dream seems to be is clearly about time (and what it does, or what we do with it and what I guess I specifically wish I could do with it,) I have to point out "where" it begins and where it goes. It's so obvious in retrospect. Subconscious, why must you act the fool? I know these things, jesus christ. No need to beat me over the head with the Obvious Bat.

So I'm on the beach with friends, and I decide that I'm going to take a kind of rip-tide home. In the dream, there's a rip-tide that I know goes through the underground, through caves, over bridges, under bridges, all over the damn place, but it leads me home. And I decide to do that instead of getting a ride, or driving. My friend tells me, "The last time you went with the tide, you had a kayak. This time you don't even have a raft. I think it's dangerous."

"I've got this," I tell her. And I hold up an old, ratty, torn grey blanket. It's not even big; it's like the size of a stupid bath towel. "This will hold me afloat."

So I jump into the rip-tide and start riding it. It's exciting, exhilarating even, like body-surfing (which I used to do a lot,) and warm . Soon it takes me into this underground tunnel, and everything goes dark. The rip-tide starts to move really fast (think: escape from the island in RE4, only without a boat, and darker.) I start thinking, "This is going way too fast. And I can't see what's coming next. And I can't remember what was in my way last time." So I hold onto my ratty blanket with one hand and put the other one out in front of me, this way if I run into any, like, huge rocks or walls, or stalagmites on the way, I can break through them with my palm instead of going face-first into them. Now, it's not exhilarating, but dangerous and unpredictable in the dark water. Also, really cold.

Finally there's a Light At The End Of The Tunnel, and in the middle of all this quick-moving water is an old house. Kind of looks like one of the cabins my family used to own in upstate NY. The water flows right through it and I think, "Hey, I remember this. There's a way back home through here." So I let the tide whisk me up to the door, then I bang the door open with my palm and start riding the water through the house. There's a guy in the next room sitting on an old, dirty couch, watching TV and smoking a bowl. O_O He looks like one of the bad guys from Dexter, maybe. The water is just about waist-level to him but he doesn't seem to mind. He gives me a funny look as I go towel-surfing by but doesn't comment. I take the water upstairs (screw physics,) and go out the upstairs door. Now I can see the bridge home, 105. But, as it always is in my (rare) dreams about my town, it's FRIGGING HUGE, a towering draw-bridge hundreds of feet over deep water. And the bridge itself is a waterway. Not a nice, gentle one, but bubbling with turbulence. I'm thinking, "Holy christ, I will never be able to navigate that water. It's going to pitch me right over the side. I know I remember another way! But, I'll have to go through that stoned guy's house again, and something about him feels wrong."

I don't see any other logical choice, so I swing back around (one-way tide, what?) and go through his door again. This time he's got two other guys on the couch with him and I ask them, "Hey you guys, so I remember years ago there was an easier way through this turbulence. Can you tell me which way that is?"

The first stoned guy says, "You have to go upstairs and go out the door on the right instead of the left. There will be two water slides and one of them will take you to the lower bridge which is easier."

"Thanks," I say. "And, sorry for busting through your door. I honestly thought this house was empty."

He says, "Don't worry about it. Most people come surfing through here thinking that it's a spa and they're going to find a sauna."

I start thinking how nice that would be – a relaxing spa, a sauna, getting out of this crazy water. This rip-tide riding was a bad idea. And I realize that time has passed. Lots of time, and I've just been riding around in this crazy water. People are going to wonder were I am.

I thank the guys and ride up on the stairs again, this time taking the other door. I emerge on the other side in a water-park way high above the town, with lots of people lined up to take the water-slides. This isn't travel for them, but recreation. No one's walking. Like me, they're all floating on something. Most of them have actual floats, and all of a sudden I realize how stupid it was to set out with nothing but a stupid grey towel. But, at least the water here is still. So I get in line, floating behind a bunch of folks waiting their turn.

And I wait. And wait. And frigging wait. Hours go by and finally I just let loose. "WHAT THE HELL IS THE HOLD UP HERE?! I was supposed to be through this already, like, hours ago! And here I am hanging around, and this water is getting dirty and gross with all these people in it. Can't we move this along? Jesus, why did the line stop?!" I look to my left and see two ticket-windows for the water-slides. There are two women behind the glass (also floating in the water) and the one for my water-slide puts a sign in her window saying "CLOSED" with some indecipherable reason written underneath. Now I'm really pissed off. Like, this water-slide has been closed all these years and no one bothered to tell me? The other people on line start grumbling, one saying that he's missed a Bon Jovi concert because of the holdup, another guy saying that he missed a Jonas Brothers concert. (O_O )

I'm still pissed and I yell, "You know what, EFF THIS, I waited here all this time, and now how am I supposed to get home? No cell phone, no land line, I don't have the keys to my car (and when I said it, I pictured the keys to my old car, my beloved Shinigami) and there's no way in hell I'm going back to do this all again!"

I start to consider that the only way to go is over the turbulent water bridge, and I'll just have to deal with the danger.

Then, literally, I got bored and woke myself up. Not angry, or afraid to go on, just full-on bored.

My brain, she has no need for subtlety and she spits on in, PTOOEY.

My last two dreams have been equally intense and lingering. You know those dreams that stick to your brain like peanut butter to the back of your throat. Except, all damn day. The one I had the night before was about Dad, Disneyworld, hospitals and other things. It bothered me and I didn't like it. But there was one funny part in that dream and it was when I was in this big building in Disneyworld, trying to get to the top floor. There were no stairs, but they advertised these rooms to take you to the top. "The magic of flight!" the signs said. "Don't use your legs to climb stairs, let our newfangled rooms take you there – LEGLESS." And I said, to no one, "Please. That's just called an elevator. You can't trick me."

Seriously, some nice, stupid, floaty dreams, please. Or even better, one of my exciting adventure ones that inspire me to write like a demon. One of my "character in distress – I must figure this out!" dreams that lights the fire in my brain for the rest of the day. I love those. That's the one I want next.

Anyway, so since I was a good girl today and I did much of what was on my to-do list (laundry, homework, study, phone call, dishes,) instead of spending five hours on tvtropes.com like I did yesterday, I decided to, uhh, go to tvtropes.com and see if I couldn't trope myself. Not my story, but myself. That website has got everything covered and I think we all fit into real life examples of that sometimes. Does anyone care to join me? Sounds like fun, right? Well, to me. Here are my tropes.

I think I can be a little mama bear, once in a while. Most especially over my three cousins, but even to the Kung Fu kids. I never let them wait for their rides alone, and on the few occasions that someone has messed with the Kung Fu kids at the academy, I guess I don't take it lightly. I did kind of chase a guy away from one of the young students once, outside of the school. I don't qualify as badass normal, but I do know Kung Fu, so within the last few years, I did kind of take a level in badass. Maybe I minored in asskicking. And I am most definitely a Kick Chick. But really probably more of a medic.

Either way, my choices are always chaotic good.

Would love to be tall dark and bishoujo, but, meh, alas and all of that. On the other hand, my life has definitely taken a turn for the josei. And definitely silly rabbit, romance is for kids.

I guess I can be a little tsundere.

I am a HUGE user of heehee you said X, your mom, That's What She Said, the Unusual Dysphemism, and If you know what I mean.

I'm a frequent user of aposiopesis so, yeah.

God, please don't click on all of those links. What a pain in the ass. :)

Oh, and, completely having fun in this comment thread. I love when this kind of conversation takes place on my own LJ. :D
la_belle_laide: (witch)



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Umm, I am so looking forward to the next few hours in which I can revise and re-write, but I have to address the dream I had last night, too. These are the dreams that make me burn, burn to write once I wake up. But first I have to get it out of my head and in front of my eyes.

It started out being about Dexter. (Well duh.) He got caught, but was not in prison or anything. Instead, he was locked in my childhood playroom, which, in the dream, had fishtanks and all manner of reptiles in tanks and cages along with a bunch of my old baby toys. As a part of his punishment, they (“they” being random law enforcers) had removed his eyes, just plucked them right on out.

I have mentioned this before but in case anyone doesn't know: When a character in my dream gets into big trouble, my dream-self is convinced that they can't handle this on their own, and steps in as a surrogate until the problem is resolved in some way that really fires up my nerves – but in a good way. It's as if I have a mission, one that I'm dying to accomplish, and it involves saving someone. Because I somehow know how the cards are stacked, and they don't.

So, in order to help, I step in and become Dexter. My way of helping this time is to unlock the door (security's not too great in this playroom) and face the captors reasonably. I'm not yet going to do anything by force. But when I try to explain to them that I—Dexter--have not really done anything morally wrong (remember, it's just a dream, okay, I don't condone serial killing!) I find that they've also removed his tongue. OMG, now how am I supposed to explain this? And then I hear them talking about how other body parts are next! So I run back into the playroom where I find my Wonderful Glassworker friend there. She will understand, for sure. To my surprise, she does, and she slams the door shut to stop them from getting in. We're trapped, but I—Dexter--can't tell her anything because of the whole no tongue issue. And even though they took his eyes out, I can still see. I can't let anyone know that I can see, so that has to remain our little secret.

In the corner I find my old guitar, the one I bought for myself with my first few real paychecks when I was 16. I think, Well, I'm in here for a while. I might as well re-lean how to play the guitar. If I—Dexter--can't speak, at least I can make music.

Then I sat down and started playing Ozzy's Diary of A Madman. (That's not as significant as you might think. I could play the crap out of that song when I was a kid, and I heard it on my iPod recently.)

Then the dream kind of switched, and I was in Disneyworld with Haku and Sano. Dad came along. This is the first time I've dreamed of him, knowing he wasn't really here. Usually in my dreams, he is still with us and then when I wake up, it takes me a second to remember. But in this dream, I already remembered. Put I kind of shoved logic to the back. He patted Haku, like he always did, and said, “Poor little guy. Poor little Haku-kuku.” Which is exactly what he always said whenever Haku had his health problems. I started crying (like I am now, god! I'm such a little kid sometimes,) and Dad said, “What the hell you still crying for?” (Which is exactly what he would say.) Then he asked me how Dexter ended. I said, “I can't tell you; that would be spoiling it. You just have to watch it for yourself!”

Then I woke up, and I knew exactly what I wanted to to do liven up the pace in my story. I've got it all worked out – or at least I had, at 9 AM. It seemed perfect, like it couldn't fail. I guess that's why I'm so excited today. I can't explain it. Once I woke up, I just knew.

Before I get to writing it, I want to add just a few more things. I just gutted the other day to learn of the loss of Jo-chan's and SB's wonderful dog Fiona. She was a big old beautiful Irish Wolfhound with a gentle heart. She died of bone cancer, the same thing that got Trisky. Jo-chan, who still lives at home, is just devastated. I'm gonna miss old Fi; she was a beaut.

I brought my poor deceased Valentine fish back to the store today and had the Fish Guy check my water. He said the water was perfect, so probably I'd just gotten a bad group of guppies (they all died, too,) and an already sick betta. Don't I just pick them? So he gave me my money back and threw in a nice marble molly, too. Then I bought a silver and black catfish which is the coolest looking fish ever. Hopefully these will work out.

While I was out, I bought season 2 of Dexter at Border's. I had an awesome coupon, and it was on sale. I paid $23 for the whole season! I walked around Border's for a few minutes, just seeing my own books on the shelves. (And a new Margaret Weiss called Dragons of the Hourglass Mage. I'll wait till it goes to paperback, but goddamnit, why am I still in love with Raistlin Majere?) I was filled with excitement and longing. Waiting on the longass line, the woman behind me started chatting with me. She had four books in her hand and told me about how she and her husband were going on a road trip and she needed tons of books to read. I told her that someday, she'd be seeing my books on the endcaps there. She asked what they were about and I exuberantly told her, “A time traveling physics teacher!” She thought it sounded really neat. She wished me luck and promised she'd buy it someday. ^_^ Haha, I love my local peeps. But, going back to this morning, I don't know, I just have a feeling.

Dogs: Sano is less itchy, Haku is tons MORE itchy. And this lime sulfur stuff reeks. I hate it.

Today I spent more money than I have. I haven't done that in a while, but I needed to fill my gas tank, buy some groceries, then I realized that I am in fact missing about three Kenshin DVDs. (Mom and I are watching Kenshin lately, and we're right up the part where my collection has a huge gap. WTF!) So I went to Amazon and shelled out the, like, $40 for season one. I have the rest of them. Waiting. I hate it!

Last night the Gold Dragon called me. I told him how disappointed I was that I had to cancel and that I was sorry it was on such short notice. “Don't be sorry,” he said. “You're doing me a huge favor. Let me know when everything's all settled.” Then I just rambled about the whole damn ordeal. “...and both my dogs got it, and I have to bleach everything and I hate bleach, and this dip smells like rotten eggs, and I broke the washing machine and, and, and!” “Wow,” he said, “you have really bad luck. It's not contagious, is it?”

I seriously hope not.

And anyway, my luck will turn around with the Chinese New Year. Man, I just know it!
la_belle_laide: (witch)



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Umm, I am so looking forward to the next few hours in which I can revise and re-write, but I have to address the dream I had last night, too. These are the dreams that make me burn, burn to write once I wake up. But first I have to get it out of my head and in front of my eyes.

It started out being about Dexter. (Well duh.) He got caught, but was not in prison or anything. Instead, he was locked in my childhood playroom, which, in the dream, had fishtanks and all manner of reptiles in tanks and cages along with a bunch of my old baby toys. As a part of his punishment, they (“they” being random law enforcers) had removed his eyes, just plucked them right on out.

I have mentioned this before but in case anyone doesn't know: When a character in my dream gets into big trouble, my dream-self is convinced that they can't handle this on their own, and steps in as a surrogate until the problem is resolved in some way that really fires up my nerves – but in a good way. It's as if I have a mission, one that I'm dying to accomplish, and it involves saving someone. Because I somehow know how the cards are stacked, and they don't.

So, in order to help, I step in and become Dexter. My way of helping this time is to unlock the door (security's not too great in this playroom) and face the captors reasonably. I'm not yet going to do anything by force. But when I try to explain to them that I—Dexter--have not really done anything morally wrong (remember, it's just a dream, okay, I don't condone serial killing!) I find that they've also removed his tongue. OMG, now how am I supposed to explain this? And then I hear them talking about how other body parts are next! So I run back into the playroom where I find my Wonderful Glassworker friend there. She will understand, for sure. To my surprise, she does, and she slams the door shut to stop them from getting in. We're trapped, but I—Dexter--can't tell her anything because of the whole no tongue issue. And even though they took his eyes out, I can still see. I can't let anyone know that I can see, so that has to remain our little secret.

In the corner I find my old guitar, the one I bought for myself with my first few real paychecks when I was 16. I think, Well, I'm in here for a while. I might as well re-lean how to play the guitar. If I—Dexter--can't speak, at least I can make music.

Then I sat down and started playing Ozzy's Diary of A Madman. (That's not as significant as you might think. I could play the crap out of that song when I was a kid, and I heard it on my iPod recently.)

Then the dream kind of switched, and I was in Disneyworld with Haku and Sano. Dad came along. This is the first time I've dreamed of him, knowing he wasn't really here. Usually in my dreams, he is still with us and then when I wake up, it takes me a second to remember. But in this dream, I already remembered. Put I kind of shoved logic to the back. He patted Haku, like he always did, and said, “Poor little guy. Poor little Haku-kuku.” Which is exactly what he always said whenever Haku had his health problems. I started crying (like I am now, god! I'm such a little kid sometimes,) and Dad said, “What the hell you still crying for?” (Which is exactly what he would say.) Then he asked me how Dexter ended. I said, “I can't tell you; that would be spoiling it. You just have to watch it for yourself!”

Then I woke up, and I knew exactly what I wanted to to do liven up the pace in my story. I've got it all worked out – or at least I had, at 9 AM. It seemed perfect, like it couldn't fail. I guess that's why I'm so excited today. I can't explain it. Once I woke up, I just knew.

Before I get to writing it, I want to add just a few more things. I just gutted the other day to learn of the loss of Jo-chan's and SB's wonderful dog Fiona. She was a big old beautiful Irish Wolfhound with a gentle heart. She died of bone cancer, the same thing that got Trisky. Jo-chan, who still lives at home, is just devastated. I'm gonna miss old Fi; she was a beaut.

I brought my poor deceased Valentine fish back to the store today and had the Fish Guy check my water. He said the water was perfect, so probably I'd just gotten a bad group of guppies (they all died, too,) and an already sick betta. Don't I just pick them? So he gave me my money back and threw in a nice marble molly, too. Then I bought a silver and black catfish which is the coolest looking fish ever. Hopefully these will work out.

While I was out, I bought season 2 of Dexter at Border's. I had an awesome coupon, and it was on sale. I paid $23 for the whole season! I walked around Border's for a few minutes, just seeing my own books on the shelves. (And a new Margaret Weiss called Dragons of the Hourglass Mage. I'll wait till it goes to paperback, but goddamnit, why am I still in love with Raistlin Majere?) I was filled with excitement and longing. Waiting on the longass line, the woman behind me started chatting with me. She had four books in her hand and told me about how she and her husband were going on a road trip and she needed tons of books to read. I told her that someday, she'd be seeing my books on the endcaps there. She asked what they were about and I exuberantly told her, “A time traveling physics teacher!” She thought it sounded really neat. She wished me luck and promised she'd buy it someday. ^_^ Haha, I love my local peeps. But, going back to this morning, I don't know, I just have a feeling.

Dogs: Sano is less itchy, Haku is tons MORE itchy. And this lime sulfur stuff reeks. I hate it.

Today I spent more money than I have. I haven't done that in a while, but I needed to fill my gas tank, buy some groceries, then I realized that I am in fact missing about three Kenshin DVDs. (Mom and I are watching Kenshin lately, and we're right up the part where my collection has a huge gap. WTF!) So I went to Amazon and shelled out the, like, $40 for season one. I have the rest of them. Waiting. I hate it!

Last night the Gold Dragon called me. I told him how disappointed I was that I had to cancel and that I was sorry it was on such short notice. “Don't be sorry,” he said. “You're doing me a huge favor. Let me know when everything's all settled.” Then I just rambled about the whole damn ordeal. “...and both my dogs got it, and I have to bleach everything and I hate bleach, and this dip smells like rotten eggs, and I broke the washing machine and, and, and!” “Wow,” he said, “you have really bad luck. It's not contagious, is it?”

I seriously hope not.

And anyway, my luck will turn around with the Chinese New Year. Man, I just know it!
la_belle_laide: (SCIENCE!)



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The last two dreams I had were so cracked out that I have to write them. I totally know that the first one is from watching Gundam Wing before bed which makes me the biggest geek, but both dreams still beat the ones I've been having. (Like a friend of mine warned me that I would, I keep having these dreams that Dad is still around, and then when I wake up it takes a few seconds to remember.) I much prefer these crazy space dreams.

I love space dreams and wish I had them more often. When I dream about planets and space and stuff, they become actual characters rather than settings. And they're larger in my dreams than would fit in my waking brain. Space seems as huge as it is, but somehow makes more sense in dreams. Space-dreams are majestic and insane, but usually fun.

The one I had two nights ago starts out where I'm watching these Gundams and Mobile Dolls battle in outer space. Just like in the anime, distant battles are represented by gold “explosion” balls. So I'm watching all of this and then I realize that I'm not in any kind of suit or shuttle or any sort of vehicle myself. Instead, I'm just hanging on to the string of a balloon. I look down below me and I can see the Earth in this tremendous distance. Not only that, but I can even see planets I don't recognize ahead of me, planets from other solar systems and I think, “Oh crap, I'm way too far up! I need to get back to Earth.” So I climb up the string and I see that this balloon is freaking HUGE, and it has a button on it where I can little by little let the helium out (yeah yeah, helium, zero gravity, I know, but hello, I was floating in oxygen-less space with no suit, so.) I start to let the helium out and slowly descend back to Earth, finally landing in my back yard.

I deflate the balloon in my yard and then I realize that I shouldn't have come all the way down because now I'm too far from the action, and what if they need me? So I need to re-inflate the balloon to get back up. Except now it won't re-inflate. It's this huge, yellow rubber thing, and I keep pressing the “inflate” button and it just won't go. So, I crawl inside of it, into a cavernous room. But instead of looking like a room you might find in a spacecraft or something, it's like someone's attic, with old furniture and things like that. I think, “Well, this is what's bogging it down; I have to get rid of some of this stuff.” (thanks, dream symbolism,) and I start throwing things out of it, like toasters and stuff. Eventually I get enough thrown out that I can re-inflate the balloon. It gets bigger and I grab the string and start to go up again, but I only make it as far as the trees before the balloon starts to go all wacky and out of control. I can't seem to steer it anymore, and I think about that huge battle out there and those unusual planets. I know it's dangerous to go flying up there into this distant, chaotic space, but I'm going anyway, just hoping that I can control the balloon by the time I get there. It was a little scary, but more fun than anything. I felt excited.

That was dream number one. Last night's dream was just as cracked out, but I think it was shorter.

In this one, I'm in outer space again, except this time I'm specifically looking for different planets. For some reason I'm out there scouting for something habitable. There are some other people with me, though I'm not sure who they are. (And waking, I'm not sure who they represent in real life.) A blond young man and a few women, that's all I remember.

So, I find this tiny blue planet and I grab it, thinking that I will bring it back to Earth. It's small enough to fit in my hand but it's impossibly heavy. As I'm bringing it down to Earth I realize that it actually is Earth, only another version. (And I have no idea how I'm flying through space this time, by the way. There was no balloon. It didn't interfere with the dream logic, though.) As I begin to land on Earth, again in my back yard, there is a summer party going on. It's night-time and people are jumping into the pool. The tiny Earth lands in the water, and suddenly it's not summer anymore, but Autumn, and not night, but day, and suddenly there are no more people in the pool; rather the pool is covered and the little planet is revolving in an eddy in the shallow water. As it spins, the sky on my Earth gets dark really quickly. It occurs to me that the tiny Earth is somehow controlling what's happening on my own Earth and that it's making time move too quickly. And it's in shadow. If I can move it into the light and slow it down, I can fix the sudden dark. So I put my hand in the water and turn it a little bit the other way. Then there are all of these people around, getting ready to jump into the pool and I realize that I've turned back time.

This is, of course, part wishful thinking and part the whole time-travel aspect of my own novel. I realize my dream symbolism is about as subtle as a brick to the teeth, but what can I say, I'm a simple creature. ^_~;; At any rate, I like my space-dreams, even the ones that are scary (like the one I had about superhuge beings opening the sky from the other side and stepping through, or the moon turning into a tremendous lemon slice that I could see out my window.) Even when they're weird and kind of spooky, they're still awesome and majestic.

My dreams totally make me wish that I could draw.

Except if I could draw, I would spend the whole day drawing scenes from my novel. And hot men. ;)

So it's really funny that I had those dreams and then this Carl Sagan / Stephen Hawking* music video showed up in my life today:



Randomly, I got a PM from this other writer on this writing board where I hang out. We started out talking about Kung Fu (she does Wushu,) and then when I answered her in a thread, I saw this link in her sig line. She didn't say what it was, and I have this rule of never clicking on any links if I don't know what's' in them. Not because I am afraid to get viruses, spam or porn or anything, but just because I don't want to waste my time clicking on someone's link if I think I might not be interested. I tell this to people who email me with stuff saying simply “CHECK THIS OUT!” No, I'm not going to check this out until you give me a hint. Rare exceptions: one specific friend of mine on LJ always has good links, so I usually click on whatever she posts even though I have no idea what it's going to be. And once in a while, someone will strike me as nice and interesting enough that I'll go, “well, why not?” And this gal just happened to come along with this link in her sig.

You must imagine my surprise when I clicked on it. I've seen, read, heard variations of these clips before, obviously, but this whole thing was new to me. And because it caught me on a day when I was already feeling space-love and very much in need of that kind of scientific beauty, why, I just have to take it as a sign. :)







*HOW IS IT that fandom has forever sullied the once-innocent little slash?
la_belle_laide: (SCIENCE!)



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The last two dreams I had were so cracked out that I have to write them. I totally know that the first one is from watching Gundam Wing before bed which makes me the biggest geek, but both dreams still beat the ones I've been having. (Like a friend of mine warned me that I would, I keep having these dreams that Dad is still around, and then when I wake up it takes a few seconds to remember.) I much prefer these crazy space dreams.

I love space dreams and wish I had them more often. When I dream about planets and space and stuff, they become actual characters rather than settings. And they're larger in my dreams than would fit in my waking brain. Space seems as huge as it is, but somehow makes more sense in dreams. Space-dreams are majestic and insane, but usually fun.

The one I had two nights ago starts out where I'm watching these Gundams and Mobile Dolls battle in outer space. Just like in the anime, distant battles are represented by gold “explosion” balls. So I'm watching all of this and then I realize that I'm not in any kind of suit or shuttle or any sort of vehicle myself. Instead, I'm just hanging on to the string of a balloon. I look down below me and I can see the Earth in this tremendous distance. Not only that, but I can even see planets I don't recognize ahead of me, planets from other solar systems and I think, “Oh crap, I'm way too far up! I need to get back to Earth.” So I climb up the string and I see that this balloon is freaking HUGE, and it has a button on it where I can little by little let the helium out (yeah yeah, helium, zero gravity, I know, but hello, I was floating in oxygen-less space with no suit, so.) I start to let the helium out and slowly descend back to Earth, finally landing in my back yard.

I deflate the balloon in my yard and then I realize that I shouldn't have come all the way down because now I'm too far from the action, and what if they need me? So I need to re-inflate the balloon to get back up. Except now it won't re-inflate. It's this huge, yellow rubber thing, and I keep pressing the “inflate” button and it just won't go. So, I crawl inside of it, into a cavernous room. But instead of looking like a room you might find in a spacecraft or something, it's like someone's attic, with old furniture and things like that. I think, “Well, this is what's bogging it down; I have to get rid of some of this stuff.” (thanks, dream symbolism,) and I start throwing things out of it, like toasters and stuff. Eventually I get enough thrown out that I can re-inflate the balloon. It gets bigger and I grab the string and start to go up again, but I only make it as far as the trees before the balloon starts to go all wacky and out of control. I can't seem to steer it anymore, and I think about that huge battle out there and those unusual planets. I know it's dangerous to go flying up there into this distant, chaotic space, but I'm going anyway, just hoping that I can control the balloon by the time I get there. It was a little scary, but more fun than anything. I felt excited.

That was dream number one. Last night's dream was just as cracked out, but I think it was shorter.

In this one, I'm in outer space again, except this time I'm specifically looking for different planets. For some reason I'm out there scouting for something habitable. There are some other people with me, though I'm not sure who they are. (And waking, I'm not sure who they represent in real life.) A blond young man and a few women, that's all I remember.

So, I find this tiny blue planet and I grab it, thinking that I will bring it back to Earth. It's small enough to fit in my hand but it's impossibly heavy. As I'm bringing it down to Earth I realize that it actually is Earth, only another version. (And I have no idea how I'm flying through space this time, by the way. There was no balloon. It didn't interfere with the dream logic, though.) As I begin to land on Earth, again in my back yard, there is a summer party going on. It's night-time and people are jumping into the pool. The tiny Earth lands in the water, and suddenly it's not summer anymore, but Autumn, and not night, but day, and suddenly there are no more people in the pool; rather the pool is covered and the little planet is revolving in an eddy in the shallow water. As it spins, the sky on my Earth gets dark really quickly. It occurs to me that the tiny Earth is somehow controlling what's happening on my own Earth and that it's making time move too quickly. And it's in shadow. If I can move it into the light and slow it down, I can fix the sudden dark. So I put my hand in the water and turn it a little bit the other way. Then there are all of these people around, getting ready to jump into the pool and I realize that I've turned back time.

This is, of course, part wishful thinking and part the whole time-travel aspect of my own novel. I realize my dream symbolism is about as subtle as a brick to the teeth, but what can I say, I'm a simple creature. ^_~;; At any rate, I like my space-dreams, even the ones that are scary (like the one I had about superhuge beings opening the sky from the other side and stepping through, or the moon turning into a tremendous lemon slice that I could see out my window.) Even when they're weird and kind of spooky, they're still awesome and majestic.

My dreams totally make me wish that I could draw.

Except if I could draw, I would spend the whole day drawing scenes from my novel. And hot men. ;)

So it's really funny that I had those dreams and then this Carl Sagan / Stephen Hawking* music video showed up in my life today:



Randomly, I got a PM from this other writer on this writing board where I hang out. We started out talking about Kung Fu (she does Wushu,) and then when I answered her in a thread, I saw this link in her sig line. She didn't say what it was, and I have this rule of never clicking on any links if I don't know what's' in them. Not because I am afraid to get viruses, spam or porn or anything, but just because I don't want to waste my time clicking on someone's link if I think I might not be interested. I tell this to people who email me with stuff saying simply “CHECK THIS OUT!” No, I'm not going to check this out until you give me a hint. Rare exceptions: one specific friend of mine on LJ always has good links, so I usually click on whatever she posts even though I have no idea what it's going to be. And once in a while, someone will strike me as nice and interesting enough that I'll go, “well, why not?” And this gal just happened to come along with this link in her sig.

You must imagine my surprise when I clicked on it. I've seen, read, heard variations of these clips before, obviously, but this whole thing was new to me. And because it caught me on a day when I was already feeling space-love and very much in need of that kind of scientific beauty, why, I just have to take it as a sign. :)







*HOW IS IT that fandom has forever sullied the once-innocent little slash?
la_belle_laide: (Default)



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“Recently opened” files in my OpenOffice program: “Blog37,” “Haecceity1,” “Heacceity2,” “Something with Krislar,” “New general query letter,” “Shorter query letter,” “ten page synopsis,” “shorter synopsis,” “Shortest synopsis EVER.” So those of you who follow my “OMG the NEXT JK ROWLING 4EVA!!1111!11%*#&^%” nonsense will gather that I've been querying again. Why all of a sudden? Because the last query / sample I sent was to a specific publisher who said they had a “no later than three months” period for acceptance or rejection, and the three month mark is Saturday. (Today is Sunday.) They said to resubmit if you just don't hear back from them; none of this “Oh hey did you get my work of genius?” emailing junk. But, that's another three months, you know? I'd actually rather have the rejection right away than send it yet again to the same folks and have to sit by another three months. And I keep getting the same advice: Stop bothering with publishing houses, get an agent yesterday. Maybe that is the way to go? It's worth trying.

SO! There I was, researching agents and I found this one terrific, just effing spectabulous resource for agents and you can search them for the kind of stuff they really like to read. You can also find their blogs and such which, reading the blogs of agents and editors is mucho helpful. At least I hope so. Because they are, like, people and stuff, contrary to popular belief.

I am ever hopeful. Aren't we all, though?

Sano: Still in the hospital. I called today after work to see how he was, and if I could take him home, and was told that they'd pass on a message that I'd called and that the vet would “get back to me” when he had a chance. I fully understand it is an emergency clinic. But, I have a life and I miss my dog. Yeah, today's “life” consists of nothing more than shopping, entering my work data, getting my books ready for school, and playing the new Resident Evil, but still? Waaah.

Rib: Still busted, (I think? No X rays yet,) hurts worse than a few days ago actually. I don't think it's too big a deal because, what, all they do is tell you not to act the fool and go stabbing yourself in the chest for a few weeks or something. (And I guess, no heavy lifting or anything of that nature. No sparring? Well, we'll see. Maybe some light sparring, some sane, retard-free sparring.) I should get it X rayed I guess, but I didn't get my new health coverage yet (letter from ex employers on the 12th of this month: “Just letting you know in advance that your Cobra is expired as of the 11th!” Thanks, assheads!) but more than that, when? When am I going to go and sit around in the ER for ridiculously American hours on end to get an X Ray? With Sano in the hospital, with work, and school, and studying, and finals starting next week? But I saw a doctor at school who assured me it was at least cracked. So, wahh to that, too.

Today at work, I had A Moment. It wasn't one of those moments when missing Dad took me by surprise, but I suspect that all of these wildly illogical urges that I keep having still have something to do with that. I was looking at the rats, and had the insane, almost undeniable urge to just buy one. They were so cute, so engaging and sweet, I wanted one to crawl up my arm and take a nap under my hair. I had it all figured out (I have a cage in a shed somewhere, I can buy some bedding, feed it vegetables, give it a wheel to play on and I can train it OMG, I can give it a cute name or something stupid like call it Heero Yuy, and train him to come when called and do obstacles and, and, and...) I really had to sit there and force myself to see reason. I only have one day off a week; I don't even have the time I'd like to have to hang out with my beautiful crow like I used to. Where am I gonna find the time to train a rat for godsakes?

But it's like I said: Every emotion and thought I have is times a hundred. If something would normally irk me, lately it makes me nuclear. If something makes me sad, lately it makes me want to cry. If something would normally get me nervous, it's a catastrophe of epic frigging proportions. Happy = manic joy completely inappropriate and out of proportion to the situation. And apparently, “Oh, rats are cute” becomes “HOLY EFFING GOD, I WILL TAKE ONE HOME TODAY AND IT WILL BE MY BEST FRIEND.”

Oh! So yeah. So the new Resident Evil, Darkside Chronicles is out and I've been playing it and can I just say, I'm a little disappointed? I mean, hey, great, Leon Kennedy is in it, you get to shoot tons of zombies (their heads have gone from exploding to exploding and shooting disgusting spurts of blood all over the walls, yay!) and they recreated the Raccoon City PD beautifully, so big YAY to that. But here's the deal, you cannot walk the eff around. No, I mean seriously. It is a true first person shooter, meaning that the game walks and looks around for you. All you have to do is shoot. You can't: look behind you unless the game does it for you, go back and pick up something you missed, stare at things, stand around, take your time, enjoy the scenery, talk to people twice, or, hello, move out of the way of bad guys. I'm getting really frustrated! But, at least it's nice to be with Leon Kennedy again.

Additionally, I had a cracked out dream last night that I was getting married to Bill Murray. It wasn't bad, actually. He's kinda hot. I know, dude. Whatever, okay?

Welp, on the menu for tonight: WHO THE HELL KNOWS, because I have to schedule my evening around when vets feel like giving me a call. I would love to take Sano home and then play some RE Darkside Chronicles (hereafter: RE:DC) then, at Mom's house watch Gundam Wing and eat ice cream and then, home to write some more and get into that enjoyment mode and go to bed and read Pattern Recognition which I am really enjoying. But, I don't think it's going to go like that. We'll see.
la_belle_laide: (Tifa)



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Yeah so today was a day of crazy non-sequitor emotions. Early this morning I was having my Gomez Dream again. I dream about this dude every few months, or maybe like once or twice a year, more like, now that I think of it. It's always a very happy dream and sometimes I'm just calling this dream-man “Gomez” because Gomez Addams was sort of my first and most enduring crush, and seriously a kind of masculine ideal for me (starting with John Astin's Gomez when I was a kid and then HUGELY when Raul Julia played him to perfection.) But sometimes in the dream the guy is totally supposed to really be Gomez Addams and last night that's what happened. He was kind of a cross between John Astin and Raul Julia, and I was Morticia except I was wearing a wine-colored dress with these trailing sleeves.

Anyway, I had to somehow win him over and I already knew the end of the story so it didn't matter what I did. I wanted to make it exciting. So I decided that in order to win him over, I would shoot him with these tiny poison darts that I kept on this little firing weapon on my wrist. (I liked this imaginary weapon so much that today before Neuro I went and wrote it into my story. O_O ) Anyway, so I totally poisoned him and he thought that was really cool. But, I wasn't ready to just give up and get married yet. It was too easy. I decided to travel to France to learn to speak French (duh.) As Morticia I had the power of teleportation, but instead of landing in France I way overshot and landed on some Caribbean island. I was upset because, being Morticia and all I wanted to stay out of the sun. So I carried an umbrella around on the beach. There was some party going on in a hotel and the waves were crashing on the shore but I wanted no part of it. So I teleported back home, wherever that was.

At “home” there was a huge party going on and Gomez was walking among the guests, trying to get everyone to dance. For fun, I hid an ax in an old grandfather clock so that when he opened it, it would fall out and he would have do dodge it. I thought, “How exciting!” Eventually he went over and opened it, saw my little trap and thought it was the most wonderful thing ever. I was so happy that we had the same sensibility. I walked past him at the party and he said, “You don't even have to try, the answer is YES.”

Then I woke up.

I don't even want to begin to guess.

Well, so I made some changes in Le Novel and got really excited about writing again, as happens once in a while. All during my drive to school this afternoon I couldn't wait to get back onto OpenOffice (or OpenOrifice as I call it,) and just let my writer-freak flag fly. Neuro was fun today as it always is. I had dinner and headed off to Kung Fu thinking it'd just be like any other class, but I was still so happy to be going there. Sometimes it really inspires me. I began to wonder what it would be like to really get back into sparring in class, and if we were ever going to do that again. I wondered, What would I do? What combos would I throw? Could I land any hits? We very often do sparring drills and lots of light contact stuff, but it has been years, literally years since we've had real sparring matches and they ended shortly after I joined. So as far as real sparring matches, with BANG BANG BANG punching and kicking and other kinds of Kung Fu stuff, I've only done three the whole time.

Well, WOW, it was just as much fun, and just as draining as I remembered it. I always pride myself at never really getting winded at Kung Fu – that when all the boys half my age are falling down and gasping, I'm still happily training away. Fighting is different. Usual rounds are about 1-3 minutes. I went first against the Gold Dragon for about five minutes and he's been sparring for years at the other school and knows what the hell he is doing. He went really light contact on me and was very helpful. But after about five minutes I had to stop for water. Then we went back to it for another five or so. Then I sparred with Homeslice (I call him that because we found out shortly after he joined that we went to high school together,) for about another five. Then with the Empress's boyfriend (who is 18, about 6' and outweighs me by half again,) for about three minutes, then another three minutes. I seriously, seriously, seriously had to stop to take a break after that. Time truly is subjective, and very much so when someone is punching you in the eye and you HAVE NOT STOPPED MOVING ONCE.

In black belt we did trapping but intense trapping. Again, Dragon totally helped me a lot. I learned a lot from Homeslice but at one point I thought he was going to snap my wrist. (I'm flexible, but after a certain amount of flexion, bones and tendons start to snap, seriously. I have to start telling people, “Enough.” It doesn't hurt now, but it's going to.)

Err, I also have to stop apologizing when I punch my sparring partner.

Anyway. So it was such great fun and then I drove the Empress and her boyfriend home. I don't know what happened in my brain. We were talking about cake, or food or something, and all of a sudden my brain went, “I really wish I could talk to Dad and tell him all about this.” I heard him say, “You have to keep your hands up – did you keep your hands up?” and “A boxing round is about a minute, but that's a long minute when you're in the ring” and all the other stuff he would have said to me. I just wished more than anything that I could tell him all about it.

I managed to shove those thoughts into a brain-box until after I'd dropped Empress and her boy home, and then the floodgates just opened and I was like that for the rest of the ride home.

So I went to Mom's, watched TV with her, ate toast with Nutella, then took my Ninja Wizards to my house where I was just totally “blah” with nothing left, not even the cool stuff I wanted to add to Le Novel. I'll have to try to re-ignite that spark tomorrow after shopping and homework (of which I have tons. Homework, that is.)

Oh, and yesterday I registered for next semester. Not only are they trying to tell me I owe them $700 due to a “rebate” they said they gave me which is not really mine (let's never mind that THEY OWE ME TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS, actually $4500 but honestly, $2000 is all I'm going to get unless we go to court and I just don't have the spit for it, and BTW I'm still waiting for that money,) BUT! They also told me that my credits from the OM program magically did not make it to my massage therapy program and are just, I dunno, floating around in the goddamn ether and essentially that I wasn't allowed to register because I was technically just a freshman with only five credits.

Welp, as you can imagine, I just about bitchslapped someone. It took hours--hours--sitting there getting repeatedly bumped to the bottom of the list, before they called me up another five times and finally straightened most of it out.

This school sucks. I need to get my license and run the other way as fast as possible.

Well, that was the last few days, I guess. Dreams: bizarre. Sparring: awesome. Brain: unpredictable. School administration: Balls-up. Novel: Back on fire tomorrow.

Oh yeah, and I also got the Gundam Wing box set (part one) and have been re-watching that old favorite. Escapism FTW!
la_belle_laide: (Tifa)



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Yeah so today was a day of crazy non-sequitor emotions. Early this morning I was having my Gomez Dream again. I dream about this dude every few months, or maybe like once or twice a year, more like, now that I think of it. It's always a very happy dream and sometimes I'm just calling this dream-man “Gomez” because Gomez Addams was sort of my first and most enduring crush, and seriously a kind of masculine ideal for me (starting with John Astin's Gomez when I was a kid and then HUGELY when Raul Julia played him to perfection.) But sometimes in the dream the guy is totally supposed to really be Gomez Addams and last night that's what happened. He was kind of a cross between John Astin and Raul Julia, and I was Morticia except I was wearing a wine-colored dress with these trailing sleeves.

Anyway, I had to somehow win him over and I already knew the end of the story so it didn't matter what I did. I wanted to make it exciting. So I decided that in order to win him over, I would shoot him with these tiny poison darts that I kept on this little firing weapon on my wrist. (I liked this imaginary weapon so much that today before Neuro I went and wrote it into my story. O_O ) Anyway, so I totally poisoned him and he thought that was really cool. But, I wasn't ready to just give up and get married yet. It was too easy. I decided to travel to France to learn to speak French (duh.) As Morticia I had the power of teleportation, but instead of landing in France I way overshot and landed on some Caribbean island. I was upset because, being Morticia and all I wanted to stay out of the sun. So I carried an umbrella around on the beach. There was some party going on in a hotel and the waves were crashing on the shore but I wanted no part of it. So I teleported back home, wherever that was.

At “home” there was a huge party going on and Gomez was walking among the guests, trying to get everyone to dance. For fun, I hid an ax in an old grandfather clock so that when he opened it, it would fall out and he would have do dodge it. I thought, “How exciting!” Eventually he went over and opened it, saw my little trap and thought it was the most wonderful thing ever. I was so happy that we had the same sensibility. I walked past him at the party and he said, “You don't even have to try, the answer is YES.”

Then I woke up.

I don't even want to begin to guess.

Well, so I made some changes in Le Novel and got really excited about writing again, as happens once in a while. All during my drive to school this afternoon I couldn't wait to get back onto OpenOffice (or OpenOrifice as I call it,) and just let my writer-freak flag fly. Neuro was fun today as it always is. I had dinner and headed off to Kung Fu thinking it'd just be like any other class, but I was still so happy to be going there. Sometimes it really inspires me. I began to wonder what it would be like to really get back into sparring in class, and if we were ever going to do that again. I wondered, What would I do? What combos would I throw? Could I land any hits? We very often do sparring drills and lots of light contact stuff, but it has been years, literally years since we've had real sparring matches and they ended shortly after I joined. So as far as real sparring matches, with BANG BANG BANG punching and kicking and other kinds of Kung Fu stuff, I've only done three the whole time.

Well, WOW, it was just as much fun, and just as draining as I remembered it. I always pride myself at never really getting winded at Kung Fu – that when all the boys half my age are falling down and gasping, I'm still happily training away. Fighting is different. Usual rounds are about 1-3 minutes. I went first against the Gold Dragon for about five minutes and he's been sparring for years at the other school and knows what the hell he is doing. He went really light contact on me and was very helpful. But after about five minutes I had to stop for water. Then we went back to it for another five or so. Then I sparred with Homeslice (I call him that because we found out shortly after he joined that we went to high school together,) for about another five. Then with the Empress's boyfriend (who is 18, about 6' and outweighs me by half again,) for about three minutes, then another three minutes. I seriously, seriously, seriously had to stop to take a break after that. Time truly is subjective, and very much so when someone is punching you in the eye and you HAVE NOT STOPPED MOVING ONCE.

In black belt we did trapping but intense trapping. Again, Dragon totally helped me a lot. I learned a lot from Homeslice but at one point I thought he was going to snap my wrist. (I'm flexible, but after a certain amount of flexion, bones and tendons start to snap, seriously. I have to start telling people, “Enough.” It doesn't hurt now, but it's going to.)

Err, I also have to stop apologizing when I punch my sparring partner.

Anyway. So it was such great fun and then I drove the Empress and her boyfriend home. I don't know what happened in my brain. We were talking about cake, or food or something, and all of a sudden my brain went, “I really wish I could talk to Dad and tell him all about this.” I heard him say, “You have to keep your hands up – did you keep your hands up?” and “A boxing round is about a minute, but that's a long minute when you're in the ring” and all the other stuff he would have said to me. I just wished more than anything that I could tell him all about it.

I managed to shove those thoughts into a brain-box until after I'd dropped Empress and her boy home, and then the floodgates just opened and I was like that for the rest of the ride home.

So I went to Mom's, watched TV with her, ate toast with Nutella, then took my Ninja Wizards to my house where I was just totally “blah” with nothing left, not even the cool stuff I wanted to add to Le Novel. I'll have to try to re-ignite that spark tomorrow after shopping and homework (of which I have tons. Homework, that is.)

Oh, and yesterday I registered for next semester. Not only are they trying to tell me I owe them $700 due to a “rebate” they said they gave me which is not really mine (let's never mind that THEY OWE ME TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS, actually $4500 but honestly, $2000 is all I'm going to get unless we go to court and I just don't have the spit for it, and BTW I'm still waiting for that money,) BUT! They also told me that my credits from the OM program magically did not make it to my massage therapy program and are just, I dunno, floating around in the goddamn ether and essentially that I wasn't allowed to register because I was technically just a freshman with only five credits.

Welp, as you can imagine, I just about bitchslapped someone. It took hours--hours--sitting there getting repeatedly bumped to the bottom of the list, before they called me up another five times and finally straightened most of it out.

This school sucks. I need to get my license and run the other way as fast as possible.

Well, that was the last few days, I guess. Dreams: bizarre. Sparring: awesome. Brain: unpredictable. School administration: Balls-up. Novel: Back on fire tomorrow.

Oh yeah, and I also got the Gundam Wing box set (part one) and have been re-watching that old favorite. Escapism FTW!
la_belle_laide: (morticia)



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Last night was lots of fun: The Gold Dragon took me out for a belated birthday thing and we went to Digger's. We ended up having drinks (although just cranberry juice for me since I drove) and mozzarella sticks and staying till closing. And yes, I took the day off school today. :) So we just talked about sun moon stars rain (read: Kung Fu, school, work, movies, friends, Family Guy, etc.) and at one point I had a moment when he said, “Let's have a toast” and I figured he'd say like, “To Kung Fu” or “To Jackie Chan!” or something but instead he said, “To your Dad, who's always with you.”

Anyway, we're going to hit up Darkside tomorrow once I'm home from work and he's done taking his nephew to a party. (I have to remind myself to go to work tomorrow. God, why do I feel like I'm going to forget?) My costume RULES and I'm so glad we get to do something awesome tomorrow. Halloween means a lot to me.

Last night I was so thirsty after all the mozzarella sticks that I couldn't sleep, or maybe it had to do with the ton of Halloween candy I ate, too. Anyway, I was up nearly all night just thinking about random stupid things. Once in a while I was able to get to sleep but then I only had really bizarre dreams.

A few times a year I dream about seeing Taking Back Sunday live, (which I have done frequently and with great joy in the past,) and in the dreams something supernatural is always going on in those dreams. For instance, in one of them, they were at a vampire baby shower. In another, Adam Lazzara was a werewolf and kept shorting the electricity during the concert by chewing on the cords.

In last night's Taking Back Sunday concert dream, the show took place in a kind of college (not surprising I guess) and there were tons of floors from which you could watch the show from behind a glass partition. My seat was way high up. I could see the show very well but could not hear it, thus defeating the purpose. The guitarist (Matt Fazzi, great dude btw) pointed to me and said something, but I couldn't hear him so I had to read his lips and he said something like, “Aren't you that girl from the online journal?” I thought, “Wow, how does he know that?”

I looked at the person beside me and saw that she had turned into a black and white version of herself. Apart from that, she was also getting smaller and wasn't moving. For some reason I looked at the guy who does the sound, or the lighting or something and he had turned sort of greyish. By and by, members of the audience all began to turn into little grey, stone-like dolls. I thought, “Holy crap, I'd better get out of here before I turn into one, too! But then I'll miss the show, and what will become of the band? Maybe they'll turn to stone, too?” So I banged on the glass partition to warn them of what was happening, when I saw that the guitarist had been replaced by some guy from Saturday Night Live. For some reason, this freaked me out way more than the doll thing. I thought perhaps I would have to get the gun I was conveniently carrying and shoot through the glass to break it, but then I realized I would hit someone on stage. I woke up before solving this quandary.

Strange things are just happening in my brain; stranger than normal. I think it must be stress. Sometimes I'm very much at peace, and sometimes every little thing makes me feel like the sky is falling. As if I can somehow deal with losing Dad, yet not getting the DVD I ordered last week is making me want to rip someone's eyes out and scream into their gaping eyeholes. Or the fact that I forgot to finish my homework for this week kept me awake from around 6:30 onward this morning. I mean, I still have all next week to finish it, yet somehow it was the most urgent thing in the world.

Ah, but I have some good news to report, at least. I took Sano to the vet on Wednesday before by neuro class, and got his bloodwork done. The vet called me yesterday and even though his liver values are still elevated, they are much lower than they were even last week. Also his platelets are okay so I can lower the pred (which is what's destroying his liver in the first place) and keep doing what I'm doing. I was ridiculously glad about it, which is to be expected. Also it looks like his fur is growing back a little.

Also! I got a 98 on my neuro midterm. Originally it was 96 but when we went over it in class we discovered that the scantron had marked one wrong that was right, so my score was 98. And because I set the two-point curve it turned out to be 100, and my entire class average is 99. My professor (my favorite one this trimester) handed me the test back and said, “You broke the curve for the rest of the class. Curvebreaker!” And again I was happier than I had any right to be.

I had big plans for today, I seriously did. I was going to draw a picture, but I've utterly forgotten how to draw, and I used to be at least ¼ way decent at it. Then I was going to write a little, maybe a cute Halloween poem or something, but I've utterly forgotten how to write, also. Maybe it's stress, but what if it never stops and I've totally lost my aptitude for all of that stuff? Also I was going to go out and buy a lottery ticket. Also I was going to get back to work on taking the paneling down at Gran's place (that's what I guess I'll always call it: “Gran's place” even though it's now basically going to be my office.) I was going to go through my novel and clean it up some more just in case the editors write me back and say “We think you might be the next JK Rowling, oh my god, please send us the rest of the manuscript at once because we'd like to give you five million dollars in advance and maybe even set you up on a date with this guy here who we cloned from Ewan McGregor's colon cells.”

Those were my plans, but then I kind of just looked at funny videos on the internet all day.

Gacked (GACKT?) from [livejournal.com profile] skitty_kitty:


Japanese Prank Show! FUNNIEST THING EVER - Watch more Funny Videos

WTFFFFFFF seriously? Apparently, according to one of her friends, it's from a show called Zen Master, in which contestants have to endure all of these ridiculous things in silence. That one dude is so cute too,damn. Anyway, this made me laugh until I had tears. "Slapping Machine" and "Old Man Bites Tenderly" slayed me. I really needed that, too.

Well, I should go feed the dogs, feed myself, maybe go out for a walk with Mom or something and then pretend like I don't have to go to work tomorrow and I can just skip the early part of the day and go right to Darkside. ^_^ Pictures will surely follow. Oh, count on it.
la_belle_laide: (morticia)



free web stats


Last night was lots of fun: The Gold Dragon took me out for a belated birthday thing and we went to Digger's. We ended up having drinks (although just cranberry juice for me since I drove) and mozzarella sticks and staying till closing. And yes, I took the day off school today. :) So we just talked about sun moon stars rain (read: Kung Fu, school, work, movies, friends, Family Guy, etc.) and at one point I had a moment when he said, “Let's have a toast” and I figured he'd say like, “To Kung Fu” or “To Jackie Chan!” or something but instead he said, “To your Dad, who's always with you.”

Anyway, we're going to hit up Darkside tomorrow once I'm home from work and he's done taking his nephew to a party. (I have to remind myself to go to work tomorrow. God, why do I feel like I'm going to forget?) My costume RULES and I'm so glad we get to do something awesome tomorrow. Halloween means a lot to me.

Last night I was so thirsty after all the mozzarella sticks that I couldn't sleep, or maybe it had to do with the ton of Halloween candy I ate, too. Anyway, I was up nearly all night just thinking about random stupid things. Once in a while I was able to get to sleep but then I only had really bizarre dreams.

A few times a year I dream about seeing Taking Back Sunday live, (which I have done frequently and with great joy in the past,) and in the dreams something supernatural is always going on in those dreams. For instance, in one of them, they were at a vampire baby shower. In another, Adam Lazzara was a werewolf and kept shorting the electricity during the concert by chewing on the cords.

In last night's Taking Back Sunday concert dream, the show took place in a kind of college (not surprising I guess) and there were tons of floors from which you could watch the show from behind a glass partition. My seat was way high up. I could see the show very well but could not hear it, thus defeating the purpose. The guitarist (Matt Fazzi, great dude btw) pointed to me and said something, but I couldn't hear him so I had to read his lips and he said something like, “Aren't you that girl from the online journal?” I thought, “Wow, how does he know that?”

I looked at the person beside me and saw that she had turned into a black and white version of herself. Apart from that, she was also getting smaller and wasn't moving. For some reason I looked at the guy who does the sound, or the lighting or something and he had turned sort of greyish. By and by, members of the audience all began to turn into little grey, stone-like dolls. I thought, “Holy crap, I'd better get out of here before I turn into one, too! But then I'll miss the show, and what will become of the band? Maybe they'll turn to stone, too?” So I banged on the glass partition to warn them of what was happening, when I saw that the guitarist had been replaced by some guy from Saturday Night Live. For some reason, this freaked me out way more than the doll thing. I thought perhaps I would have to get the gun I was conveniently carrying and shoot through the glass to break it, but then I realized I would hit someone on stage. I woke up before solving this quandary.

Strange things are just happening in my brain; stranger than normal. I think it must be stress. Sometimes I'm very much at peace, and sometimes every little thing makes me feel like the sky is falling. As if I can somehow deal with losing Dad, yet not getting the DVD I ordered last week is making me want to rip someone's eyes out and scream into their gaping eyeholes. Or the fact that I forgot to finish my homework for this week kept me awake from around 6:30 onward this morning. I mean, I still have all next week to finish it, yet somehow it was the most urgent thing in the world.

Ah, but I have some good news to report, at least. I took Sano to the vet on Wednesday before by neuro class, and got his bloodwork done. The vet called me yesterday and even though his liver values are still elevated, they are much lower than they were even last week. Also his platelets are okay so I can lower the pred (which is what's destroying his liver in the first place) and keep doing what I'm doing. I was ridiculously glad about it, which is to be expected. Also it looks like his fur is growing back a little.

Also! I got a 98 on my neuro midterm. Originally it was 96 but when we went over it in class we discovered that the scantron had marked one wrong that was right, so my score was 98. And because I set the two-point curve it turned out to be 100, and my entire class average is 99. My professor (my favorite one this trimester) handed me the test back and said, “You broke the curve for the rest of the class. Curvebreaker!” And again I was happier than I had any right to be.

I had big plans for today, I seriously did. I was going to draw a picture, but I've utterly forgotten how to draw, and I used to be at least ¼ way decent at it. Then I was going to write a little, maybe a cute Halloween poem or something, but I've utterly forgotten how to write, also. Maybe it's stress, but what if it never stops and I've totally lost my aptitude for all of that stuff? Also I was going to go out and buy a lottery ticket. Also I was going to get back to work on taking the paneling down at Gran's place (that's what I guess I'll always call it: “Gran's place” even though it's now basically going to be my office.) I was going to go through my novel and clean it up some more just in case the editors write me back and say “We think you might be the next JK Rowling, oh my god, please send us the rest of the manuscript at once because we'd like to give you five million dollars in advance and maybe even set you up on a date with this guy here who we cloned from Ewan McGregor's colon cells.”

Those were my plans, but then I kind of just looked at funny videos on the internet all day.

Gacked (GACKT?) from [livejournal.com profile] skitty_kitty:


Japanese Prank Show! FUNNIEST THING EVER - Watch more Funny Videos

WTFFFFFFF seriously? Apparently, according to one of her friends, it's from a show called Zen Master, in which contestants have to endure all of these ridiculous things in silence. That one dude is so cute too,damn. Anyway, this made me laugh until I had tears. "Slapping Machine" and "Old Man Bites Tenderly" slayed me. I really needed that, too.

Well, I should go feed the dogs, feed myself, maybe go out for a walk with Mom or something and then pretend like I don't have to go to work tomorrow and I can just skip the early part of the day and go right to Darkside. ^_^ Pictures will surely follow. Oh, count on it.

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