This journal is dead.

It's been a wild ride. See some of you somewhere else. Those of you who want can still contact me through my email, kaneta_gouri3333_at_gmail_._com, minus the underscores and numbers.

'Bye.

1. You can only say YES or NO.
2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone comments and asks!

( Read more... )

Been Christmas shopping. Bought presents for Zara and Julian and Soren and maybe Nicole, and some of my sibs.
And me, of course. Yay, books!

Went to Soren's birthday thing a bit back. Was a lot of fun, and with luck I may be going ice-skating soon with one of his other friends who was there, a lovely lass by the name of Selena.
(Soren has many lovely interesting friends. It's a strange, strange feeling to be the most normal person in a crowd, but that's how it is, sitting in his living room. I find myself counting my weirdnesses.)

Julian's father has gone insane. He believes now that he is 'never wrong, and can see the future.' I didn't exactly see that coming. A bit of a creepiness.

Bought Julian boots, in exchange for his having bought me boots. Works.

Been reading. What have I read? Lots...
*spaces out*
but this is also the second day off this week that I've given up to go in and be grred at and fondled and called 'hon' by unpleasant customers, so I can't remember. Instead, food. Something that once bled, I believe.
Yes.

'Night.

--Gen

So Thanksgiving was okay.
Got all ready to go to Julian's Grandma's, and since we still have no car his father was going to pick us up. And two hours before he was to come, he called and gave Julian a list of ultimatums. If he was going to go take Julian to see his family(not his and Julian's family, his family) then Julian was to look as straight as possible--no manly flowered hairband, no funny hair, no clever T-shirts, no nailpolish, on and on and on.
So Julian wished him a happy Thanksgiving and said we'd see him some other time, and hung up. I am increasingly proud of his ability to not say yes, sir.
And then he called his Auntie, and she gave us a ride. We were in the kitchen by the time his Dad showed up, and had been for about an hour.

And when Julian, at lunch with his folks yesterday(whilst I was bussing my way home sick from work, poor me poor me)said that he wasn't going to pretend so that his dad wouldn't be embarassed, his father just got up and left the table.

Other than that, it's been nice. Thanksgiving dinner was quick but fun, and I really like Julian's cousin Diana. Getting ready for Christmas shopping(worked Black Friday, that was fun)and such, trying to balance between my urge to spend every penny I gain on various presents for various people, and my desire to save money.

Last night I spent about an hour on the phone with Dan, and Julian about twenty minutes. The check from the car insurance has come in, and Julian and I are struggling with the temptation to say, screw this! and light off for England like there ain't no tomorrow. Patience is hard.
(we could get nice long visas, if we went a day apart. Agh, it's tough.)

*sneeze*
Tired of being sick. Keep getting a fever at about six PM, very strange indeed.

Whatelse?
Not much.

Went and saw the new Potter flick. Voldemort has pretty feet. And I approve of how much they made Krum look like Beckham. And how much the magic wasn't in-your-face but very commonplace--we don't really notice cars, after all.
Barty Crouch, however, sucked lots. Pathetic squirming character, they made him into. He was hardly crazy, he was patient. And his craziness, in the movie, was never explained well enough.

And now--away, methinks. Back home, for some more .hack, or out for Pride and Prejudice, but either way it is time for a bus.
(or maybe food?)

Ja ne.
--Gen

So, probably Potter today! And steak! Yay, steak!

Been reading. Um.
It's all out of my brain, though, but some good things and some bad things. More on that later, I guess.
Been playing FFVIII and GTA: Vice City and .hack, volume one.
.hack has pretty pathetic graphics, a lousy camera, slow plot, but I'm really enjoying it nonetheless, GTA is a great timewaster(I have figured out how to make myself into a Latina hooker-type character who still speaks in a man's voice.
And I'm stuck, dying over and over again, at the Rajin/Fujin battle in FFVIII. I've never played the game through myself before.

Weather is weird.
Oh-oh-oh! Julian bought me boots! Warm boots! That was the most horrible thing about last winter, the miserably cold feet that I lost sensation in within moments of stepping outside. And we were leaving the mall(the BN where we work is just outside it, we have to pass through it to get to the bus)and Payless had a sale and now I have Thinsulate boots.
I've never had happier winter-feet.

:)

What else? Work is going well enough. Had to be in at SEVEN AM on my DAY OFF yesterday, though, for the Holiday Meeting. I love BN, but the corporate crap gets to be a bit much sometimes. Had to talk with a profoundly fake woman sent over from another store about selling membership cards. I sort of stared at her and offered no comment for about twenty minutes as she talked to my group and condescended and was generally rude, and then I got to go home.
And now--Avalon Exchange!
And then Potter!

Ja ne!

So yesterday it was in the sixties, easy, and today there is rumour of snow. I really do love this city.

Tomorrow I am doing the storytime at work--reading the books, cheering on the tots, etcetera. With my real face on. Saturday, I will don the huge Maisie the Mouse costume and be pummled, hugged, potentially vomited on. I don't honestly mind, though.

The car was finally towed off yesterday. Poor, sweet car. We sent the title to the insurance company, got our junk out of the beastie, and headed off for work--and when we returned, it had escaped.

Julian's been knitting these incredibly weird scarves. He made me a nice one, rust orange and wide, tapering down to a black point at one end, so that from a distance as it hangs down my back I look foxlike. Most of the scarves he's making are not easily or instantly recognizable as such.

I'm trying to find some small software for animating LJ-icons. Any ideas?

Wow, already almost one in the afternoon...and looking bitter cold outside. Last night it was summer. I guess I'll update this and go back to hunting pictures for icons.
(why? When my paid account ran out and I can only have three at a time and I like the ones I have? The world may never know.)

--Gen

Met Julian's friend Jenn and her friend...um...sweet blonde girl last night, had homemade tacos(the Mexican food out here blows!)and things were good. Been working stupid hours, though, what with no car, so I cut out early and went and read some more stories in the Art of Seduction(I like the book best for the sideline stuff on seducers and seductresses through the years, and the poetry)and then slept the sleep of a tortured thing. Woke up screaming or weeping on three seperate occasions, though I can't remember why.

The Kate Bush CD is a lot of fun, but will take a few more listens before I can decide what I think about it. I wish it was more dense lyrically--it's no Hounds of Love or The Dreaming--but she's done some interesting things, and I approve entirely of the birds.

Tired. Just worked a seven-and-a half hour shift, which would not be unpleasant if it weren't actually an eleven-and-a-half hour shift if you count the bus rides in each direction. Blah.

Car is being towed away from us tomorrow morning. Poor car. I shall kiss it goodbye.

Hungry, too, and either beef and broccoli at the Bangcok Balcony or something meaty elsewhere sounds entirely good. Something just past bleeding, please.

Shoulder throbbing terribly. I need a footrub, Tom.

And with that--away, into the dark and windy night.

"Thin voices called from the rain-wet brake
And the child you cradled upon your breast
Is out in the night on the black wind's crest
For only the wild can bring me rest..."

--Gen

Insurance adjustors have come, taken photos, discussed options, and gone.
It's evidently at least, visible at first glance, fourteen hundred dollars of damage.
To a '94 Nissan Maxima.

...

With like 300,000 miles on it.

...

Right! So fixing it is just kinda out of the question, since I can't imagine someone paying us that much for it two weeks ago before the accident, even with the brakes and tires just replaced.
So, alas. Poor dark-grey car, beautiful little sanctuary from cold and rain and snow and long waits at the bus stop in same, I shall miss that noise you made when we didn't turn left, I shall miss the expressions on Julian's face as your gearshift slipped a little on the highway, I shall miss the mysterious wet spot that came and went in the back seat and the rampant uncheckable growth of mildew in the trunk. I shall miss the way that you would randomly mist the windshield when we hit twenty miles an hour, unless the windows were down or the heater was blowing waves of cold air all over my shivery knees. I shall miss how the seat sagged. I shall miss the way that sometimes the seatbelt would spring out as I was slamming the door, tangle in the closing mechanism, and rebound the door right into me.
But really...for all of that, I loved you dear, you sweet little thing.
And that old woman?
The one in the Buick, with the single popped-out headlamp? The one who screamed we'd ruined her car, and wouldn't get out to assess the damage, and tried to get Julian to not chase after the pedestrians who'd seen her go sailing into the opposite lane and then come around and smack into us? The old woman who lied to her insurance people? The old woman who kept closing her door every time Julian tried to get her insurance information?

One night, while she is sleeping. Justice.


In other news, there is no other news. Things are actually proceeding apace, though--looks as though Julian and I will be flying to England early next year, packing Dan up and moving him here. Joy! 'twill be a complicated move, but still. Having a timeframe for it is a beauteous thing.

Novel is also proceeding apace, and it feels GOOD to be writing the damnable thing at last, after plotting for the last ten months. There are still plot problems, but hopefully a lot of those will work themselves out as it's written.

Also, there is some amusing talk about getting some folks together to road-trip to Utah when my biological father gets married. Everyone should visit Utah once, like prison. It'd be me, and Dan, and Julian, and Soren, and maybe a couple other people who theoretically should spontaneously combust upon passing the state line into the Holy Land.

(Holy Land...hee. Did you know that in that bit of Jesus-drek that Anne Rice has just put out, Jesus' relatives refer to their homeland as the Holy Land? And here, stupid me, all this time I thought it was called that as reference to it being the birthplace of Christianity?)

And. What else have I been reading? Paged through some teen novels--"Teach Me" looks vicious(sleep with those teachers, kids!)and "Wizards at War" was wonderful. Not that ALL the "So You Want to be a Wizard" series aren't wonderful. Beautiful antidote to Potter's silliness. I enjoy those books, but I like the fandom more. And the Potter books will never make you a better person.
Read Pirates! In An Adventure with Whaling! Did I mention this? Funny.
Read "Anvil of the World," by Kage Baker. Am now reading that one aloud before sleeping. Wonderful Lord Ermenwyr.
Read "Identity Crisis," even though I've never been hugely into superhero comics. They generally seem too shallow, and compared to the rest of the stuff I tend to read they really are, but that one was an awful lot of fun regardless.
Read "Glass Dragons" and "Voyage of the Shadowmoon." Damn, but those were really dumb. A step up from Dragonlance; A step down from "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell." Or possibly two steps down. Or a flight of steps. Interesting ideas here and there, but on the whole the characters were all abominable, and why the hell was the vampire-zombie-boy French? On a world that had nothing to do with Earth? Too much in too small a space.

Read. Um. I tend to pick up a lot, so I forget--Oh, I know! Last night I was working a closing shift, and cashiering, so there were hours with nothing at all to do. I read "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," through in about half an hour, and was surprised at its brevity--the last time I read it was probably ten years ago and I read slower then. I'm looking forward to the movie, but only for Tilda Swinton, who is the Queen of Love and Beauty, or possibly the King.
(I really think that there should be filmed a biopic of David Bowie, with her playing him. She could do it easily.)
Anyway, I'm really only rereading the Narnia books so I can tear them to pieces. I am looking for understanding. I never forgave Lewis for his horrible treatment of Susan--women in general, really, but Susan in particular--and his intimation that you have to live in a dreamworld to find Heaven. Susan tried to find peace and happiness in the world that she was born to, and for that, she lost everything she loved? Stupid! Painful. Not teaching good lessons to the little ones who read the books. Irritating.
(and Aslan's sacrifice always seemed terribly self-serving. He didn't warn the poor children, but he knew exactly what was going to happen after he died for a little bit. He did not tell them to take heart, just let them think that he would be totally destroyed. But then, he seems to like to see things cry.)

Anyway, it is growing dark, and cold, and the rain has stopped for some little while. I am going to bus into work, and get my Kate Bush CD. (Yay, Kate Bush! Let us see just how evocative a reading of the digits of Pi can actually be, shall we?)
I was working last night, but the Strict-On-Sale date was today, so even though it was sitting there with my name on it, I wasn't allowed to purchase it. Alas!

Later.

So Halloween was fun. On the 29th we had a party, and had over sorenlundi, and our friend Nicole, and silverdragon262 and Emily the Once-Librarian, and Erica, and die_graumensch. Played GTA Vice City, and some Silent Hill, and ate a lot of sugary things. Read Jack Chick tracts and mused about hell, and had some startling tarot readings as well.
Halloween itself, we played Final Fantasy VII, and then Julian and I sat on the steps at the end of our lawn and handed out candy to folks, and went into Squirrel Hill proper and looked at all the costumed little ones. It was good and peaceful and happy--for my birthday I got a crocheted bracelet from Erina at work, and a rose-quartz necklace from Julian, as well as the book "The Art of Seduction" which is quite nasty, and a nifty CD by Laura Viers which I'm quite enjoying.

Today our car was destroyed.

Balance in all things, one supposes.

Shit.
Home...

I mean--I don't like London. The pigeons limp, and there's so much in such a little space. Like any other city, barring this one, that I've ever been to. But...it's so alive! All those people!
Dammit, that's too close to home!

And to all you folks saying "Wall, at least it ain't no 9/11!"
...
Yeah.
STFU.

So life is interesting. Interesting enough to provide me with a quiet little yelling match in a fancy Chinese restaurant with Julian's Mom telling me to "stop it stop it stop it, you have no idea what you're talking about, you're only twenty-two!" when I pointed out that no, Julian was not 'smirking,' he was weeping. What kind of a fucktard can't see the difference on her own child?

Infuriating woman.

But then, she started out the conversation accusing Julian of making the last 25 years of her life a lie--he's 21, by the way--and demanding to know why, why, did he tell her he was gay when he hadn't actually committed any 'gay acts' yet and he obviously wasn't about to? Why bother telling her? Was he TRYING to hurt her? Why had he turned into this polite stranger every time she tried to talk to him? She was still his Mom, and she would never, never approve, but why hate himself when he hadn't actually sinned yet, and God OBVIOUSLY loved him all this time! Why had he fallen away from the Church when he HADN'T SINNED? I mean, homosexuality is a genetic weakness that you overcome and ignore, like alcoholism!
("It's NOT an addiction, Mom.")
Well, then, like nearsightedness!
("God is going to send me to hell for giving in to my nearsightedness and wearing glasses?")
You're not going to hell! YOU HAVEN'T SINNED!
("Do you just want me to be alone and miserable for the rest of my life?")

And then she honestly didn't understand why he started crying. Stupid, selfish bitch. Ranting, suddenly, about "why didn't you ever tell me before? Why did you lie to me all this time?" when moments before she'd been furious that he told her. She's just trying to be hurt. And then she started yelling at him when he made an awful huffy little sobbing noise, saying "Stop being so rude!" and I jumped in, instead of staring at my rice, and told her to stop being so cruel, stop savaging him. And she just about screamed at me. Gave me Momma Eyes, and was STUNNED when I didn't wilt.
(bitch, my Mom's Momma Eyes are like LASERS in comparison to that ridiculous glance. What, you expect your piddling little underused power is going to be able to go up against that? Fool.)
She told me to shut up, and I said no, and she said why, and I said, because I'm the one who is going to have to rock him to sleep while he cries tonight, and she just about jumped across the table, snarling "I should be the one holding him when he cries! Why don't you care when I'm crying, Julian?" not seeming to see that he's hardly going to run into her arms when she's turned on him like some rabid animal.

And he's crying, and gripping my hand under the table, and his Mom is shouting at him to stop and ranting and raving about how she took all the photos off the walls at home because her entire married life has been a lie, Julian has made it a lie by being so distant, by not talking to her, by not being what she thought he was, WHY CAN'T HE BE WHAT SHE THOUGHT HE WAS, and of COURSE she didn't approach him to ask why he was distant when he was still a teen, teenagers don't WANT to talk, and if he'd needed to talk, he should have come to her!

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, hurtful woman.

She doesn't love his dad. That's not Julian's fault.
He's TWENTY-ONE. It can HARDLY be his fault that TWENTY-FIVE years of life are suddenly a lie. She doesn't have the brassies to get a divorce--not her SON'S problem. And the fact that she thinks her approval should matter in his sexuality FLOORS me. Because she's his MOM, she said, when he asked why.

I'm shaking a little again just THINKING about it. She'd so much rather that she be comfortable with the thought of him than he be happy with his own life. She was furious that I DARED to talk at all "You're only a child, your word isn't gospel! HOW DARE YOU accuse me of hurting him? I WOULD NEVER HURT MY CHILD! I LOVE Julian!"
"Not on purpose, and I can see that you love him, but--"
"Not even subconsciously! It's CRUEL that you'd even suggest it!"
And Julian was hurting so badly. I wanted to say, let's just leave, and your ridiculous mother can WALK home. But I didn't. It wasn't my fight(which is another thing she shouted at me, and I calmly said "It is when you're savaging someone I love." Julian is fully capable of taking his own battles, but that doesn't mean I can't be backup for a sentence or three.)and Julian acquitted himself MARVELOUSLY under the circumstances.

She calmed down, started crying about how she was his mother, wasn't he still her son? Did he WANT her to disown him?
And then we all went to Borders and she bought him a coffee and I sniggered over a magazine of Forteana, and then we went to her house and Julian played the piano, and then Julian and I went home.
And then out, because neither of us felt like sleeping.

And then I found out that Dan's grandfather died, suddenly. I'd never even said hello to him, all the times I'd been down on the farm--I'd waved, but we'd never been introduced, and now I can't ever be, and I'm not there to hold Dan like he so terribly needs, and he sent me a long and hurting email that at least gives me hope he'll be okay. I wish I was there. I wish I could give him a backrub and run him a bath and make him lasagna and find some ridiculous funny anime to drive all of it out of his head for a while.

And five minutes ago I found out that my oldest friend, who I have not spoken to in about six years, Melinda Farrell, has cancer.

What a day.

FINALLY well again. More than a week of being really, really sick, and two days of 102 degree fever and slight delirium.
I really hate my pillowcases now.

Kittenfishy!
What do you think? I love the litle thing.

So last night I was in Julian's dorm, in my PJs as we were intending to crash there, online happily buzzing through the dailies at Fark, Julian sitting reading Folk of the Air on his bed, and there was a noise.
It went "whooOOOOOOP!"
Just once. Julian dropped the book and I reached for my dayclothes, 'cause it was the fire alarm.
Into warm clothing and down seven flights of stairs in about two minutes, baby. The fire alarm didn't properly come on until we were at the door of his room, dressed warm and moving toward the stairs.

Wasn't anything major. Third time the alarms have gone off in as many months, and people are beginning to not give a damn. So as the first two were evidently little arson-laid fires(last night's was some chick cooking microwave popcorn too long, silly mite got all fourteen floors evacuated)I worry a bit. People were slow, and a hundred or two didn't even bother leaving their rooms. So if someone really wanted to hurt people, all they'd need to do is wait two weeks and light a proper fire. Julian and I were quick even knowing that it was most likely nothing at all(we slept at mine nonetheless)but there were still stragglers coming out several minutes after we'd made the bottom landing. Next time, if it's serious, someone is going to die.

Lothrop is weird. It's connected to the hospital, and the hallways are kept pressurized to keep the fire from spreading(I always get dizzy at Julian's door)but someone who knew what they were doing could get around that easily. Open the windows in the stairwells, for instance, and prop the doors open as you go. Ten minutes of work, maybe, and no one would notice. Lay the fire in the bottom of the building, the basement maybe, where it'll short things out the fastest and make it hardest for folks to get out. Something like that. And people would think it was just another burning Pop-Tart and not bother leaving their rooms until they could smell the smoke. It's a creepy thought, particularly for the girls on the 14th floor.
Last time there was a fire, the elevators didn't run for more than a week, due to water-damage. They had fans on them all the while, and every time I came to visit Julian I had to climb all the way. The buttons in two of the elevators still don't all work, and that was about a month and a half ago.

But yeah. Things here are going.
And now, I have to leave for work.
Ja ne.

So yeah. Party was interesting. Joseph saw people in the bathroom mirror and was more than a bit shaken. More than a bit shaken means he drank a goodly deal of wine afterwards. Once he was able to talk again.
Watched Allo Allo for a while and we were amused. Several folks stayed the night, including Trebbie, who evidently attempted to wake screaming when the Thing That Lives In My Room(who keeps leaving long golden hairs on my pillow and in my hairbrush, and who keeps opening the bathroom window and getting the curtain stuck under the frame when it closes it again, and who keeps petting my face and toying with my hair when I sleep, and who has giggled and pinched Julian on the ass, and grabbed his feet)climbed merrily into bed with him.
At least she/it is NICE. a bit creepy betimes, but on the whole quite pleasant.

And someone who I have known for a week, and who has never seen it, described my basement with utter accuracy, down to "and on the right is the room with the bicycles." She thinks the basement might want her dead, and she's been dreaming about it.

And you know what?
This is all absolutely the most normal part of my life right now.

And in a potential TMI--I'm on the tenth day of my period. Very strange indeed. Writing this here to keep track for myself, mostly...

--Gen

Heh. Yeah. Stupid me! It'd be nice to post a TIME for this party I'm having on Saturday, right?

TIME! Starting at like, say, seven PM? Running until everyone goes home, and as I'm baking cinnamon rolls in the morning it's cool if you bring a blankie and stay the night watching movies and hopefully playing some Super Smash Brothers or Illuminati or Apples to Apples, having sleep-deprived conversation and eventually crashing out on one of the many sleeping surfaces evident in my house.
(It'd thrill me to have people stay over, really. I love making breakfast.)

And. Um. If you can bring chips or whatall, it'd be cool, but despite my slightly addled last post it's hardly obligatory.
If you don't know my address, or how to get there, or whatever, email me at kanetagouri(at)gmail.com . Or talk to vermilionskies Julian, he's good at giving directions. Or something.

Later! Must go clean house.

Having a movie-thing at Nils' house! Saturday! For as long as people stick around, concievably into the following day, since the following day is Sunday and we're all heathens. Yes!
Have some movies already in mind, but if you've got a good one, bring it.
(or a bad one. Bad ones are also desired.)
Also, bring whatever snacky things you think will be cool, though hopefully I'll have brownies and stuff, since I get paid Friday and HOPEFULLY it will be a halfdecent paycheck. Yes.
This means everybody.
Everybody who can make it, anyway. Relatives and Dan are not really expected to attend, but should you manage it there will be room on the couch.


--Gen

Oh. And if you happen to have a Gamecube and the most recent Zelda, I will have your babies, should you be kind enough to bring it along.
Or a PS2 and...well, almost anything, though the thought of Silent Hill five feet tall is kinda scary...

Hung out with Julian all of yesterday--helped install jellyfish in the cloister of the Frick Fine Arts building(my mind keeps trying to amend that to Cloister of Trials), which was cool, and there soon will be photos. Then I hung out in the Lithography lab and talked with a nifty gal named Nicole, who I think could become a good friend.

By the time Julian was done painting naked women it was eight PM--by the time he got done doing what else he needed to do in Litho it was nine-thirty, and we came back to his dorm to grab some stuff so we could go to my house for the evening. I sat down on his bed, and next thing I know, it's three in the morning.
And guests need signing out of the dorms, or signing in overnight, by two.
Whoops.

What else? The last time I was at work, I was working the infodesk(as usual)and a woman behind me made the precise, exact, dead-on noise that the nurse-mannequins make in Silent Hill, that groany "Uh-ohhhhhhh." I almost hit her with my stapler.

And a darkly amusing thing. My biological father writes an internet column for Sierra Times. And when our birthdays come up, he usually mentions it in the bottom.
In January, he gave my little brother Ethan 'a belated happy birthday.' Except Ethan's birthday isn't until next week. He was thinking of Colin. Colin, the one who's twenty-one now, and on his mission. Hah.
Anyway. Away. Must find food and photograph jellyfish.
Later!

--Gen

Tanith Lee has written a sequel to The Silver Metal Lover. It's called Metallic Love, I think, and it's out next month.
I've preordered it. Am a bit afraid of what I'll find. I mean--Silver came out what, two or three years before I was born, right? Or at the latest in the mid-eighties. I hope it's good. I really hope it's good.

Soon to go for breakfast, yay. No money whatsoever for food right now, so Julian is treating me to Sdexo Tube Food--probably something grease-coated and made from grease-concentrate, watered down with a nice helping of molten grease. Food!

And that's mostly it.
Except!
I now have a computer. Thank everything. It runs. *deep sigh of joy* And soon I will be able to get my own internet connection, and all will be well. Joy!

Time for me to go. Later!

--Gen

*yaaaaaawn*

Not tons going on. Well, that's an utter lie, but nothing I can really put into words. ;)

Went out with Diane today, not anywhere special but just out, which was good. Julian and I and she went to Ikea and laughed at uncomfortable furniture. Talked about novels and such, and all was well.

Missing Dan. Haven't been able to talk to him in a couple of days, and probably won't tomorrow either. :(
(and you nearly never reply to my emails, you man, you!)

Today has been beautiful, aside from the constant ache of missing-Dan. Weather was glorious, snow is mostly gone but the ground isn't mostly wet, and I was awake before eight and so had the whole day to do fun things. It's only six now--an average Saturday off I'd only have been up for seven hours at most, not nearly twelve.

Watched four episodes of Excel Saga last night--picked them up on DVD for six bucks at the Exchange. Too funny for words, and Il Pallazzo is great, particularly the bits inside his own head. "He should die! I will make him die! Nar-nar-nar stupid!"

And. Yeah. Must go, now, I think, before I get stuck wishing I could watch Fruits Basket. "Peel his skin off and burn him until he dies! Burn him until he dies, right now!"

Hee.

Later!
--Gen
I have work tomorrow--nice sparkly blue skirt, I think. These are the weighty issues that I must deal with on a daily basis.

So.

Geez. There's a lot been going on, and doubtless sometime after Dan gets out here and I can breathe again I'll make a nice ten-thousand word post about it. Not today, though. Today, I'll just say hi.

I'm at Julian's dorm(most predictably--if I'm not working or on the phone with Dan, I'm with Julian)but I hope to have my own internet access within about two weeks, yay! And then I can do nice things like check my own email whenever I want to.
Today we're going to the craft store for wire and fabric, so that Julian can make ten or fifteen giant jellyfish to put in the Frick Fine Arts building for his installation/collaborative sculpture class thingie. I've had a nasty sore throat the last couple of days, but it looks like sleeping here last night made it mostly better--the weather here's miserable cold, and I've got no real heater in my room, so I've done what I can with creative drapery but on occasion it is not enough.
(my bed is set into an alcove and surrounded by curtains, which helps quite a bit, but the effect is most cavelike.)

What else? Spent much of yesterday reading graphic novels at the library, full of random thinkings. I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a big fan of Gravitation(no grace that I could see)or Scion(cliche piled on cliche, but I must admit it was very pretty indeed and I would probably not object to owning it), and that ElfQuest just gets better. I need to pick ALL of those up, at some point.
My life is really quite interesting right now, but most of it won't go flatly into text at my bidding. Work is good, loving it still, but I'm also still falling down with depressing regularity, and now there's this pretty glowy thing that doesn't ever go away for long. Sigh.
(though, really, the falling-down-ness isn't nearly as bad as it was a few weeks back, so I can hope it's just stress and pushing myself too hard.)

Missing Dan. Missing him awfully.

And snow is only pretty when you don't have to be out in it. Thank goodness for three-inch heels and leather pants, is all I can say.

Anyway. I don't think we got 'round to eating dinner yesterday...happens quite a bit, that I get too distracted by being alive to do the things that will keep me living. So breakfast is a good idea, and one of the dormy-food places here allows one to make waffles.
Mmm, waffles.

Dan, if you were here, life would be perfect.

Ja ne, mes amis.

--Gen

Still alive.
Too much going on to talk about, really, but still alive, and that's a step in the right direction.
No internet yet, though. Working hard, playing hard, generally just living. Hard to believe it's January already.
Better go--more as I can.

--Gen

Still alive. Very tired right now, have work in about an hour so I have to catch a bus(where IS Delray street?)but things are good. Work is hard but satisfying, making this bookstore into a real place...I'm doing a lot of heavy lifting, which at least is good for my arms. And now I gotta go. Have fun...

Staying tonight at Diane's for the heck of it, and tomorrow I have my Orientation meeting at Barnes and Noble in Monroeville. Wish me luck, por favor.

I'm wearing shoes that are too big for me, but it's cool, because they were only a dollar. They're totally black high-tops, and I got them from a Goth fleamarket, which is in itself an idea of cool. The reality was somewhat disappointing, very small, but still *shrug* a good idea.

Dreamed that I opened up a store selling clothing and jewellery in this castle-y place in Oakland, which has had a For Lease sign up for a couple of years at least. Dreamed Julian sold artwork there, and wore funny hats, and his and Susan's T-shirt business took up a good section of it. And that there was a coffeeshop upstairs, internet-cafetacular. It was a good dream. :)


The Matrix is on in the living room, quite loud. The first movie was the only good one, I think. After Neo became God, it just wasn't cool anymore.

I wear makeup now.
It's like warpaint, only in greys and silvers, or coppery browns depending on what I'm trying to look like. It's not something I do, or will do, every day--but it's a necessary thing for work, I guess. Gag. Funny that to look normal I have to do things that once only courtesans did, ne? A good metaphor, perhaps?
(still, it's all so delightfully arcane and cool, the little mixtures of poisons that make one look like an adult. No mascara for me, though, my eyelashes are perfectly cool, thankyouverymuch...)

What I wish I had for my birthday--something to read. ANYTHING to read. All out.
(again. Predictable! Pfah.)
Prismacolor pencils or markers. Bristol board--I have a pad, though, which is going for the--*quiet little whisper* have I mentioned this? Webcomic.
THE webcomic.
The SAINT webcomic.
Sssh.


But yeah. That's spoken for, so with my first paycheck I think I'll get some drawing stuff of my verrrry own, like a small handful of Prismas. Maybe ten. Julian is an artist, and he needed some stuff(canvas, brushes)so we went to the art shop closest to his dorm--drool. I miss painting, I miss the sweet-candy scent of acrylic paint and the feel of the brushes. I saw a full set of Prisma markers for about two hundred dollars. Not this season! But I can wish. I'd rather have the pencils, anyway. I'm finally getting to the point where I can justify getting NICE art stuff--the only art pencils of my own that I've ever played with were Crayola. Waxy five-year-old stuff. Heather's always been the artist, not me, so Heather gets art stuff--I get books, which I have NEVER minded. Stories are my first love. But...I dunno, something about how my eye translates to my hand has changed, this past year, and I'm becoming happier and happier with what I produce, artistically. It's getting a better, looking a lot less like something Janae would draw.
Someday maybe I'll be good enough at it to...I don't know. Be satisfied?


A sad thing, though--I lost my sketchbook somewhere. Maybe the diner or one of the two coffeehouses I sit in(mm, danishes), maybe a bus...either way, it's gone. A half-year's worth of steady drawing, a year's worth of halfassed stuff...
and the first two handwritten chapters of my novel.
Dammit.
I need a computer.

National Novel Writing Month starts on the first. Go to it, my dears! ;)

*sigh* So much has happened lately that I don't think I'll type much of anything about it. So I shall say--I am making friends. Julian is someone, I think, who could fast become someone I want in my life forever--a good friend, this one. Susan is a great person, though it'd need a tidge more work--the flow isn't as smooth, but her company is most enjoyable. I met a guy on the bus, and now he's probably my friend too, once I get him convinced that I'm not going to be falling into his arms--and he's not going to be falling into my bed--anytime soon. Pleasant guy, though, funny, and he corrected me on the length of Sephiroth's sword, so he knows stuff that I know. Common ground is the easiest upon which to dance.
There's a really cool neighbor across the back garden from Nils'--her name is Suella, and she is undeniably moneyed British. Wonderful. She's--it's--a slender Lady Vimes, this one. Invited me 'round for tea, and I think that soon I'll take her up on it.
(she came over just to yell at Nils for me doing all the obvious work in the house, and Nils hoarding stuff too much. I'd never met her before, but she'd seen me painting the dining room, through the side windows.)

I've painted my loft bedroom in deep, dusty lavenders and a shade of ice-cream green. It's soothing and wonderful and the room constantly smells of Nag Champa, just a bit. It is much more my own place. I love it. I've put the bed in the corner-nook(it's a futon, so it fits well)and sectioned off the place where it sits with hand-dyed calico and thin shimmery veiling. A sad bed to sleep in all alone, 'tis true, but comfortable nonetheless.
(I have realized that I no longer move around in my sleep. I've gone back to nesting again. How odd. I pull all the blankets around me in a circle, and pull the biggest one over, and tuck my head to my shoulder and my chin to my knees and sleep. More a fox than ever, I think. It would be cozier if I had a tail, but it's not bad.)

The fleas are mostly gone. The cat is still outside--I went two days without seeing a flea or getting a bite, then the cat got in as I was polyurethaning the floor(little rubbery kittytracks)and I have seen four, I think, since. Bleurrfh. But the cat is out again, and I can hunt the little monsters down.
(one of them I only saw as it leapt from me, brave and free, and sailed into the can of golden yellow paint. I slapped it with the paintbrush until it disappeared. Soon it will be a permanant part of the kitchen wall, a testament to messiness.
Ha.

And...
and...

I don't know what else to say. I should sleep soon, because in ten hours I have to be my sparkly best and chipper and attentive for my first day learning my new job.
(that's a happy.)

So--sleep well, mes amis. Be well, Danyosan. Love you all, and you especially. ;)
Ja ne.

--Gen