my kingdom for a rose

[edit: oh yeah, and gip. an old one revamped with Font in the Red Suit.]

let's see if i can remember this dream properly.

first of all, there were two other people with me, neither of whom i actually knew, and we were urgently needed somewhere to swim with dolphins but we had to get to them via a dilapidated ancient elevator. you know, cream marble, brass scrollwork, giant mirrors. like in a grand hotel. anyway, it kept getting broken and going too far up or down and Time Was Running Out, so we ended up climbing out when it was stopped halfway between floors. i had to get boosted up to wiggle out the top half of the doors so i'd be on top of the floor (don't ask me how the doors opened).

then, eventually, rm#2 and i were sky-diving--well, parachuting, i suppose--from very high up and what actually seemed to be outer space towards the earth. it was extremely frightening. we were having shouted conversations like this:

me: how do we know we'll come down in the right place?
her: we're sort of headed towards the north... oops, there are the great lakes!

we did not come down in the great lakes. somehow we could steer with these goofy-looking swimming motions, so we ended up, at last, in wisconsin (population: 100,000). we were in the forest, and after a small amount of walking around, we discovered a tribe of native americans and a small communist-ish alternative school in one little building, owned by my mother. we went to talk to her and found her with some of those indians with the shaved heads--algonquins?--sorting through these pretty little carved/polished wooden feathers, life-size. that's what i spent the rest of the dream doing, sorting wooden cherries and leaves and feathers into piles. why, i have no idea.

OH, and holls:

i didn't get them yesterday. there's always another afternoon.

but in the meanwhile, my little sister is writing a story.

sarie and tishania, and their ongoing adventures, book 1

as you may know, gallavantsville is a very busy place in the summer. not only are the rich summer tradesmen located along the beach as far as you can see, the villagers seem to have chosen the summer to be the best time to do anything and everything you can imagine; including conjuring magical snow to build snowmen, snowgoblins and snowfaeries. they enjoy making magical creatures from snow because gallavantsville is a very magical island. anyway, this story begins on a very hot day near the beginning of summer. sarie and her best friend tishania were very very bored and just as hot.

finally, i thought you (holls, but, you know, anyone else, too) might want a progress report about the latest plan for squirrelmir. ( early this morning )

oh dally with me, pray

sometimes i'm tempted to make a Bitchy Survey. you know,

do you hate it when
...you try to pass someone and they speed up, but then when they're in front of you again they slow down? elaborate.

...people change their lj icons so much you can never remember who is who?

...rhyming poetry doesn't actually rhyme?

...people run away from im with no good reason and no warning?

--although those are pretty vanilla examples. i'm such a wimp. some day i will fearlessly offend people. but not, alas, today.

(no subject)

a 7-survey gacked from undone27.

i'm going to change it randomly. because i can.

( a bunch of 7s should mean i'm lucky. )

(no subject)

if you went in my kitchen, you might gain the impression that it had rained in there lately. especially if you were barefoot. this leads me to suspect that Someone has tried to mop. *eyes mom and lillian*

it's wet. and so is my hair. and my hairbrush is gone. i really don't know about this work stuff. i want to take a nap.

(no subject)

eh.

this is a very eh sort of day.

i want to say for the record that no one in harry potter, in rowling's canon, is soinlove with anyone else. not even remus and sirius, and they would have the best excuse. not even mcgonagall and dumbledore. not even harry and hermione and ron or any combination thereof.

although occasionally people succeed in making one of these believable.

it's not as often as they believe.