on a nasty dream, being a daddy's girl, the importance of a good beta, and my new desktop

i dreamed that my knee hurt so my parents took me to an emergency clinic, and they injected a whole lot of something in between the two pieces of the kneecap. this made it hurt a LOT more. i was in more pain in the dream than i've ever been [physically] in real life. they made me go to church anyway, and my mom was teaching a sunday school class, and she kept me there all day and all day all i could do was cry because it hurt so much. then she suddenly realized we'd been at the church for eight hours. 'oh my gosh,' she said to me, 'do you realize how long we've been here?' it was getting dark outside. 'how long?' i said hoarsely, in a little break from crying. 'nearly eight hours! it's six pm!' and i was very very pissed, and we went home and i was still crying, only now more because i had to walk. i wonder where my dad was for this part of the dream. otoh his knee actually has some sort of weight-bearing thingamajig wrong (bursitis?) so he wouldn't have been able to carry me. (except the first anxiety attack last year when i had to go to the emergency room--he carried me anyway then).

and yesterday, on a different subject, we talked on the phone for about two hours, consulting on the plot of my novel. it's a good thing for me that i have him and don't rely entirely on my betamander, because even though she means very well, no one, especially no one who is a freelance computer programmer, should do as much work as she does. hm. maybe i'll email her, though.

my new desktop sort of matches my new lj layout--same manipulations done to a different still from the same video, with the icons shrunken, buttons white, title bars hot pink, and the titles in a graffiti font. and all the menus in redensek. it makes me ridiculously happy to look at, sort of like my lavendar notepad for creative writing.

also gip: no one wanted it yesterday and i just couldn't stand it. angsty!baby!harry. now if only someone would take dobby ::sniffle::.

aunque te dé lo mismo

i went to bed and got up early so that i'd be able to do my spanish reading which i ::coughcough:: skipped all weekend.

also must write a letter to the little sis this morning. skimming, here i come.

hollsk, i love you. mi sol, la fé con que vivo, la potencia de mi voz, las pies con que camino; eres tú, amor, mis ganas de reír, el adiós que no sabré decir, porque nunca pudré vivir sin tí

quotes of the early morning

"Don't lie to me or you'll go straight to hell, and I'll be there waiting for you...thats not something you want to happen."
-professor sarat, LJST 18

i am a crunchy cardboard tube.
-the random surrealism generator

i should be angry with you if the time were convenient.
-william shakespeare, henry v

(no subject)

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE got a package from holls! and kalilupine too! ::kisses to you both:: these three little awesome books of pinups from the 50s, 40s and 60s! yay! if only i could find these pictures online i'd subject you all to icons.

EEE! presentses! i kept grinning all the way from the post office to the housing office to the dorm, which was, let me tell you, a long (and sweaty) way to grin. all the windows are now open. so. yes. WHEE!

do you float until you find something else or does the water melt away or do you absorb it all?

you know when you're nervous and it makes the back of your neck hot? i can feel fingers of it clutching around my skull: the underside of my jaw and over the top of my head, flexing, past my temples and over my cheekbones. my skin's alive all over sometimes. sometimes it makes me dizzy, for a moment.

and then there's the feeling--you didn't realize you were holding onto something, but then you look up and you're--adrift. cut loose, or did you let go? one or the other. you flounder. they say not to do that--to just float, because floundering is the way to drown.

i KNOW i took my medicine, thank you.

is my imagination over-active?

peter pan?

computer's clock scares me. it has set itself back one hour four times today. now i set it forward two. let's see what it does with THAT.

(no subject)

STUPID MOTHERFUCKING CLOCK.

IT IS NOT 7:11. IT IS 8:11.

thank you.

don't think you'll lose just cause you've never won

cim: also i want to know what the fuck time it is.
cim: i mean, without turning around and looking at my alarm
holls: almost 9
cim: my clock: "9:52"
cim: OF COURSE, in two minutes it will say either "7:54" or "MUAHAHAHAHA"

two miles in my shoes; two more till you've got to choose; why don't you?

insight, foresight, sez dj shadow! how perceptive of him!

livejournals prettified tonight: 1.

icons made: 2 (both for holls. like anyone doubted that she was my favoritest person ever.)

paragraphs written for the novel: one sentence.

just KILL ME NOW.

who needs rhyming poetry.

i've just hit the top of page 3 of the 5 i've promised myself i'll write tonight. in other news, i clicked the 'automatically adjust for daylight savings' box in the clock and now it has been at the correct time for nearly three hours. which seems to be its record for today.

i'm afraid that i don't like this style as much as i could. i feel it is coming out too artificial. the structure of this novel is starting to give me a headache.

raise your hand if you think a futuristic roadtrip would be cool.

don't really, because if anyone votes against me at this point i'm not sure if i'd cry or what. ::blinks:: maybe another cup of not-decaf earl grey is in order.