will someone tell me what "gip" means?

lisa and i had both forgotten what an alarmingly precious movie breakfast at tiffany's is. can i have audrey? can i be audrey? wait... those might be mutually exclusive, dammit. but can you not be in love with her? and this movie. oh this movie.

oh, and look at my audrey icon!

"well, could we just have something engraved?"
"the problem with that being that you would more or less have to buy something first for the engraving to be put on."

hahahahahahaha.

so...

my parents are coming TODAY. eeeeeeeeeeee! my baby sister! ee! and.

i'm starving... no... what was i going to say? i can't remember my dream anymore. hmph.

*bounce* today i decided to wear a transparent blouse that used to be my grandma's in the fifties, with, you know, tiny parallel silky stripes of opacity and blond lace, and a high collar, and a million tiny buttons in the back.

preeeeetty. *boing*

okay. i think i'd better eat breakfast now.

more with the bad stories! ag!

the horrible maudlin writing. no! with the flashbacks! and no, no, no! arrrrg! and. with the. overly-emotional Sesame Street speeches. noooooooooooo!

<--has encountered yet another person who, bewilderingly enough, actually likes it.

i have come to the conclusion that they coddle us here at my preppy little college.

what evidence do i have, you ask?

consider:

*at the end of add/drop, 100 students were still not registered at all. that is almost exactly 1/12th of our total enrollment, and they were not penalized. the admin. just wrung their hands and sounded confused.

*the theme house application said, yes, in bold print, that no late applications will be accepted. i turn mine in 4 days late. not only do they say nothing about it, but they seem astonished when i start to mention it.

*their policy for all kinds of contraband, from pets to microwaves to kegs, is that they look the other way if they possibly can, as well as warning us in advance (walk on campus, not on the main road, because the town police go on the main road, and they'll arrest you; before going out of town, please remove all contraband items from your room.)

*our rcs are not the same as ras because they don't have authority to turn you in for anything.

*the most popular way to cheer oneself up, i am reliably informed, even above getting drunk, is ordering from j crew online.

let it be recorded that i intend to write this afternoon.

at least two things.

right after i send e this feedback that i owe her, which'll be right after i write it.

[edit: e has been fb'd! go me! mood: accomplished, music: lee ann womack, "i hope you dance"]

[edit 2: no, i really am going to write. pickiness is useful for crushing procrastination, at least: it doesn't take many stories read before i come across one that loses my interest entirely and practically forces me to start writing...]

edit 3, too lazy for brackets: have finished all errands. go me.

He's a hate-fuelled overambitious astronaut haunted by an iconic dead American confidante. She's a s

He's an immortal crooked barbarian who knows the secret of the alien invasion. She's a bloodthirsty belly-dancing soap star with the soul of a mighty warrior. They fight crime!
He's an ungodly small-town vagrant searching for his wife's true killer. She's an artistic cat-loving stripper looking for love in all the wrong places. They fight crime!

He's a scarfaced drug-addicted librarian with a winning smile and a way with the ladies. She's a warm-hearted winged politician with a birthmark shaped like Liberty's torch. They fight crime!

Click here: They Fight Crime!

ahahahahaha. just. just GO. endless amusement. HEE!

there really needs to be more han/luke out there.

"Han," he said, and Han forgot to breathe: "don't." It was ridiculous how easily he said it, how natural he looked sitting there, how smoothly he moved when he put his hand on Han's shoulder, high at his neck, above the collar of his shirt. Unbelievable the way reality could just slip into dream like this. It must be something about the middle of the night--

--and then he couldn't think anymore, because reality and fantasy alike were gone, and all that was left was the sweet, bright explosion of a kiss on his open mouth.

[an embedded snippet i wrote, which is not going to turn into an actual story, however.]

(no subject)

it doesn't want to be written.

*sob*

i knew should have avoided freaky 1st+2nd person narration. and present tense, double threat. gah. gah. and it's not going to be funny, either--if it ever gets finished.

eeeeeee!

saw josh hartnett lookalike in cafeteria.

with DARK HAIR.



...eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! there may possibly have been some staring. and. uhm. drooling. involved.

"it's all about the shopping."

last night--i know this is late, but i'd forgotten, and just remembered now--i [edit: dreamed i] was shopping in a giant department store with my sister and my mom. we were in the shoe department, and all the shoes were out on the floor, so i tried on these little glittery silver boots that were too small (??).

but the clerk was helping this family of approximately 10 little mexican boys next to us, so when they went in the "employees only" door, my mom told me to follow them (the boys, not the clerk). the store was so big that it had its own pool (v. warm) and emergency room (v. small). re-emerged to take part in the mass exodus upstairs via an escalator, but upstairs there was a fire.

we had to escape via another up escalator because there was no down one. the up one led to sort of an opening in the side of the building sev. stories above the parking lot, and was sort of a giant escalator ring/loop/thing. so we simply kept holding on, and at the end, dangled one-handed from the railing until we were a few feet from the ground, when we could just drop to safety.