Imaginary Gardens

I've been having strange and not-good dreams lately. ( Read more... )

WIP Meme:
1. Go to page 7 of your most recent WiP
2. Count seven lines down
3. Copy and paste the next seven lines of text.

He felt the angel’s wildly twitching chest stop and he almost let go but then Icarus took in a deep smooth breath, held it, let it out.

Links of the Day:
Supernatural: ( Read more... )
Doctor Who: ( Read more... )
Sherlock: ( Read more... )
Other Fandom: ( Read more... )
Multifandom: ( Read more... )
Random: ( Read more... )


* Fortysomething

[...] but the best I can do, my friends, is random bits and pieces.

I'm alive! *waves* Obviously none of you folks are, though. Look alive, people!

*stops* *reconsiders* *is promptly lost behind a crowd of zombies*

The life and times of me, summarized:

( Purchases )

Plus, I figured I was "allowed", what with that extra bit of bling from babysitting. Ha! I've gone from wiping bums one week - I am not kidding, though I wish I were - to being fired from my babysitting job the other. ( Read more... )

I'm reading John Irving's Until I Find You, which deals with a tattoo artist and her sone. Naturally enough brings this makes me think quite a bit about my own tattoo options. I think I'm a bit more decided on what I want. (Or theoretically want, because, Hello? Chicken?) It'd be the hieroglyph of the scarab in the middle of my back - on the spine - quite small, in black ink. (Not at the base of the spine, particularly since I learnt it was coloqually called a "whore stamp".)

I've been having bizarre dreams lately. ( Read more... )

The two universities I sent my lates applications to emailed saying I was missing documents, or that my papers weren't "certified". ( The fuck you say? )

Fanfiction-wise, I've done very little. Last night I translated Undertow for my aunt, who likes it. *squee* Really likes it. *suqee squee squee* Writing fanfiction has totally messed with my writing scenelettes for my own personal enjoyment. Now whenever I jot down the outline of a daydream, just for posterity's sake, I can't help thinking about the dialogue, whether somehting is too contrived or not. Frig, man, it's like being a porn star who can't masturbate in her own livingroom without thinking about the hypothetical camera angles and lights. (Hell-ooo crack!metaphor.)


Links of the Day

Neil Gaiman embeds various short films on his blog. Check out the beautiful Tyger, of which there are higher quality versions (and more info) here. He was also up for sainthood (as an April Fools).
kawaii_not does "Cute Gone Wrong" comics.
The famous Cyanide and Happiness comics.
Schadenfreude Pie recipie. "Dark. Rich. And oh so bittersweet."


* The Dice Man, Luke Rhinehart

( Which Biblical Villain are You? )

Despite putting The Cure's "Cut Here" on endless repeat last night, I still couldn't figure out what the first chorus line was. And no wonder:

So dizzy Mr. Busy - Too much rush to talk to Billy

and

But chilly Mr. Dilly - Too much rush to talk to Billy

are hardly logical lyrics.

Last night 'round 5:30 am had the image of a dozen people dressed in black, hunched over with Kalashnikov's trained below them, as they stood on the pale pink clouds of heaven, surrounded by a light fog. Below them were sharks. o.O Intersting mental imagery.

Dreamt that there was no water left on Earth, or there wouldn't be in a few minutes, and the reslt would be quite the painful apocalyspe. There was a very long image of a line of streetlights and telephone poles with icicles dripping from them, and a little bird pecking at the ice. One solution - possibly mine - was that everyone on the planet "lay the fuck down" once a while, in worldly-unison. (Then I go all hippy about it: "Dude, can you imagine that?") Then I and others go to a train station, where two trains go past at speeds quite beyond what we have today. I get on, panic at my lack of purse only to realize that Kit, who´s beside me, has it.

Have been updating sickle_stories with a boat-load of ideas. Nothing written as yet. (I'll be focusing on the Jaye-fic for the time being.)


Links of the Day:
A metaquotes discussion provides links to a duckling born with 4 legs and necrophilia among ducks.
Nyarlathotep plushie


* Which Biblical Villain Are You Quiz.

Had (yet another) zombiepocalypse dream again last night. Unfortunately, I can't really remember any of it, although it was quite long, and I scribbled out some words** upon waking. I think bits of it were about how my brohter and I were packing to leave an apartment we'd been hiding out in for a few days (my ol' apartment I shared with She Who Will Not Be Named***). I'm worried about what I should pack. Then there's a vague recollection of a pool. Actual zombies may not have even featured in the dream, although they were the context.

Now back to reading Cracking of a Fragile... while waiting for stuff to do at work.

Methinks my icons are boring... Sigh.


* Shaun of the Dead, Shaun
** Lit.: "Zombie apocalypse. Leaving apartment. Brother."
*** Aka "Black-mailing Traiterous Bitch

Last night I dreamt that I was driving a (sports) car in a deserted lot then up a street. The car was going really fast, and I kept trying to slow it down, hit the brakes or turn the wheel, but it kept zooming down the street. At one point I almost ran over three kids on their bikes, but managed to veer aside and drive over the sidewalk. I ened up going uphill, though at one point I did manage to slow the car down a bit, and turn it around, but it was still going horribly fast and resisting every effort I made to control it.

Needless to say I woke up in the wee hours highly distressed.

Curiously, though, I often have very vivid dreams involving driving or smoking, two things I've never done. Wierd.


Although the dream subtext is understandable, 'cause last night, after a whole weekend of focused concentration, I finally got hit with a wave of panic last night when I got to BCN*. There's just so many things I have to do in a such a very short time:

1) applications
2) passport renovation
3) beurocracy shite with my BSc to re-re-redo
4) going-over-the-pond shopping
5) packing (winter, summer, things I need, things I don't need but should start moving acroos the pond anyway) and finally leaving the 5th in the wee hours.

I dislike panicking in the extreme.


* Barcelona in shorthand, like MTL is Montreal.