(no subject)

i dreamed i had to pretend to be the second pilot on a spaceship to carry out some kind of secret mission--to get me somewhere, maybe?--and the second pilot was traditionally a slave, so they had to hold me down and carve these v-shaped gashes in my upper arms with a knife so they'd scar. and then i didn't know how to act, and i was in constant danger, when in the spaceports, of being arrested.

my subconscious is sort of alarming, lately.

(no subject)

<td>I am the Cheshire Cat!

You're the epitome of insane. Either you're very smart, or you're too damn stupid. The world is your playground, and everything -- and everyone -- in it is a toy for you to play with. People should be scared of you, but because you're so affable, they aren't. Tough for them. </td>

*whine*

it's now been THREE WHOLE WEEKS, twenty-one days, without a word from my beta. i'm dropping emails into a black hole, here. and i don't want to post this [almost-finished] domlijah until she reads it! *cries* and it's not that i don't have other people to read it, either. buffett has been wonderful, for instance. but. but. ahhhhhhh! k'saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!

lunch

ooooooooooh, some delicious person made tomato basil quiche for lunch. they deserve rustic baskets of kisses. mmmmm, so satisfied. also, have almost reached page 47 of the story. life is good. should read linguistics, though. nap, write, or read? hmmm... nap, i think.

aaaarg!

please don't let me have become one of those people who can't write if she isn't talking. eee. page 48, pivotal climactic scene. i can do this. yecch.

domlijah update

page 50. eeeeeeeeeee!

(no subject)

what are you supposed to do when there's an infection in your eyelid? have the sneaking suspicion it's supposed to involve hot compresses. and i haven't seen my washcloth for months. useless things, right up until you lose them. hmmmmmph.