tomorrow--ahahahahahahah

wtf. this girl is quoting ani difranco, classical poetry ... and avril lavigne.

okay, people? just stay away from the quotes entirely. don't touch them. PUT DOWN that ten-foot pole.

no, i really was writing, i was just reading in a... break.

did she just say 'mama's words'? and here i thought it was 'mother's' all this time.

it's 3 am and i've got more than another page still to write.

what am i doing?

reading, of course.

the shame. as trash goes, this is so good as to not even necessarily be called 'trash,' i think. i mean, perhaps the concept is intrinsically trash, but the execution is very good, though the spelling could use some work.

please--

cashews, chocolate-covered.

that is the correct punctuation.

i do not like this can (which seems to entirely discount the practice). commas and hyphens, fuckers.

also, the adorable professor spelled my hyphenated last name over the phone with 'dash, numeric.' buh? no. like, really--no.

know where i'm going and i know where i'm from

huhn. i seem to actually be done.

One of the ways to 'accomodation,' chosen at random, led her eventually to a hotel lobby she recognized. Either she'd stayed here with Mother in the mists of her memory some time, or it was a chain; either way, or any other way too, for that matter, her name was refreshingly unknown to the desk clerks until they scanned her identity card, at which point something changed subtly in the face of the one at the computer, though her smile didn't diminish or her voice falter as she directed Perwian to one of the upper five levels.

"I'm thinking," she told her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the lift tube, "of changing my name."

(no subject)

and she finishes the story.

and whoa, was that unsatisfying.

>.<

welllll i can get up either at 8 or at 9. um. suck! yes. suck.

(no subject)

ten minutes. ten minutes before my alarm went off. a moment! why!

(no subject)

new due south story again: buh? res, please, no more with the hp! come baaaack (she said, and sat down to write some hp instead of ds...).

new interview with justin from maxim with the thing about 'not having seen' his band members' dicks: ahahahahah. damn. can you just imagine if that came out in lotr? some people would be going, 'THEY'RE NOT GAY' and some people would be going 'but, but methinks he doth protest too much' and 'but why does he mention DICKS specifically and SEEING them.' there would be tantrums, there would be 'inspired' fics with mutual jerking off in the darkness (no seeing involved, you see), there would be letters written to the actor in question ('why exactly did you feel the need to mention not having seen the other members of the fellowship's dicks?').

sweatiness: although the bathroom switches are off-limits, i think i really WILL take a shower today. yes, that's right. watch me leaving this chair.

logic: thursday. oh boy. am screwed. SCREWED.

more of the summary reactions kinda things

thechaosdiva: <3 <3

'get mine, get yours': as someone who is not infrequently right pointed out, it's a sexy song. not surprisingly so.

webcam: SO! CUTE!

my puppy: want him. ::pout::

fun with the widdle weeeeeeeebcam ::dance::

1. how do you work this thing?

( 2. oooh, my boots are on the chair! look at my skirt! )

(no subject)

text of the new christina article from maxim blender, credit to stenaline via sparkly_girls; not entirely free of typos.

Just three years ago, Christina Aguilera was a demure teen pop star singing about genies in bottles. Then came the nipple piercings. And the racy outfits. And now, a new album that reveals her to be darker, edgier, and dirrtier than anyone would ever have thought possible. So is the star who reecently suffered a "breakdown," like, OK? "Obviously not."

( CHRISTINA AGUILERA finally emerges from the make up trailer, teetering in heels and a thong. She looks kind of scary. )

(no subject)

right, so. the cute professor? too late to go to his class ::sigh::. i've gotta go grovel when it's over. ::bites things::

back into a slow glide

cuteboyhips! professor is as cute as ever, if not cuter. however, i feel a bit guilty, which is probably the cause of my sense of faint disappointment. or maybe he is disappointed. as he'd have every right to be. the wonderful bit is that when i came up to him after having missed his class to talk to him--sweating, of course, as i neglected to see what the temp. was going to be--he waved aside gibson!boy* with a form to sign, who is apparently his advisee, and gibson!boy--in my writing class and one of the hateses'd ones--proceeded to wait and therefore hear me confess good-naturedly that i stayed up until 4 am writing the novel assignment and...

well, you know, fuck him whatever he thinks about staying up till 4. i can write my best work under a crunch and i can stay up until 4 if i want to. it was a choice i made and i knew it was going to happen, blah blah.

but! i don't like him listening to me. dirty! gibson! boy! ::scowl::

however, i needed a paperclip and a bit of a rest, and i couldn't stomach spanish so came back here after lunch to check my email and all. found the claire and got soothed a little, since i was running around like a headless chicken this morning while she was asleep. and my naina, too. i keep missing everyone. (and probably am going to keep it up, too. am thinking SLEEEEEEP very loudly just now, and right after novel-writing i'm now engaged to see cuteboyhips!prof. about the logic. which i should study now.)

last bit of news, i promise:

VIM and VIGOR!

boyhips professor, again. he made me feel slightly inferior by saying in a baffled way that really, all the derivations to be done are just as easy as the simplest because they all operate by the same principles. (which i know.) if you know the principles, you should always get all the right answers, apparently. he doesn't understand how your brain can go gathering daisies and skip merrily over something. oh, well, because...

he made up for it by

genuinely not understanding how you could dislike doing derivations. yes, that's right. logic problem sets. "given 'if p then q' prove 'if not q then not p.'" not only does he think they're fun, he doesn't understand how you can not enjoy them.

o.0

i thought my dad was cute.

dude.

and i don't wanna wait another day

dear physical plant motherfuckers,

it's now been three days! out of curiosity, is our bathroom ever going to be reunited with the joys of artificial lighting?

cordially yours,
cim

sign of lameness #3, 458, 678?

*you go 'awww' over your own slash.*

*also the as-yet-untitled and incomplete collab-oh with the light of my life. you may see it, someday. unless you're nemoricultrix or phineasjones (or in the habit of having lots of phone conversations with the latter ^.^), or one of wax's chosen few leaks which i might or might not know about/agree with. (and in those cases^, you've already seen it ::smirk::.)

cim is dead. no more cim.

i'll spare those of you with sensitive eyes the pain of all caps and just let you know in summary that aside from hobbit boys from the lotr cast, my boyhips! logic! professor (professor george, natch) is the cutest thing ever known to mankind, as evinced by his cute little mannerisms, his enthusiasm, his utter geekiness, and the answer keys he emails after tests in the form of attached word documents formatted in page view with special header stationery, philo dep't information including telefax number and the salutation 'dear logician.'

p!george update (p!=professor. otherwise known as boyhips! or bh!p!)

found this email from october in my inbox.

Lawrence Douglas (Dept of LJSTPEQRXYZ)* and I are doing this WAMH radio show this evening, from 8-10pm. He's been twisting my arm to tell my students.

George: "I'm sure they all know about it already."
Douglas: "Then no harm in telling them."
George: "But I don't want them to know about it."
Douglas: "You owe it to them."
George: "I owe it to them to keep them from listening to it. Besides, it's blatant self-promotion."
Douglas: "Yeah, so?"
George: "I don't do blatant self-promotion."
Douglas: [silence]
George: "And it would be inappropriate to use College equipment and resources to promote loopy personal adventures in self-expression."
Douglas: [shows gun]
George: [sends]

* Department of LJST = Law, Jurisprudence and Social Thought