The Paint Story.

You are... What Dreams May Come - "I would go to hell to find you." Love, above all else, is important to you. When you love someone, you really love them, and you'd do anything for them. Sometimes that an get you into trouble, but to you that isn't important; what is important is is maintaining the levels of caring and trust in a healthy relationship. You little romantic, you. What movie quote are YOU? brought to you by Quizilla What kind of day has today been? It's been fun. We got up at the butt-crack of noon (me: 11 AM. Angel: washing the dishes at 10 AM) and stumbled off to Home Despot, where we spent our gift card from the bank on painting supplies. We have our own now; I'm starting a collection to rival Daddy's. And then Lily and I glued all the wallpaper to the wall, we thought. An explanation. When I went to see if I could peel the wallpaper off of the wall - thinking that it would be not impossible to do - I discovered that I was peeling wallpaper off of unprimed drywall. Bad Idea. So we decided we'd just have to glue the wallpaper edges down and paint over it. Easier said than done. We glued all the wallpaper down, and then we painted it all blue. And we found all the places we'd missed as they sagged and bubbled. And as I was peeling one of them up to try and glue it down again, I said "Lily? Is this paint?" She agreed. That was when we discovered that they'd apparently put in one new drywall panel, and the rest were painted. Thus began the peeling frenzy, removing 1/2 of the wallpaper we'd thought was unremovable and taking 1/2 of our paint job with it. I taped first; it wasn't that big of a deal. Then we painted it blue again. And then we let it dry. spent a good chunk of the evening in there drawing gargoyles and buildings and a random satellite dish, and she'll be painting them when she gets around to it tomorrow. Thus begins room 1 of transforming all the rooms in the house into murals and fun things like that. See, it was this pansy-ass floral pattern and the room is scary girly pink. So it will become blue and grey and gargoylian. Since Lily and Jefe slept over after RP, they just now left for the first time since arriving here at 7ish on Friday night. I like having people over. Is nice, although I could wish for company in the long and lonely days when Angel is missing. Have read through third-year e-mails and made a list of things to do:

1. Go to the TB clinic tomorrow and get a PPD test done.
2. Make sure I have all of my health requirement forms.
3. Check into the PDA books for clerkships and what's going to be sharable. Notify friends and comrades. I have been far too remiss.
4. Call my new preceptor (heretofore known as Dr. B.) and get the details hammered out. I am ecstatic: they placed me in a v. rural community with a female doctor. How much better can this get?
5. Plan a trip to Indianapolis to get my IUSoM ID card before the rush at orientation day.
6. Get my stuff together. Yes. Get my stuff together. And figure out what I'll need and need to bring. Also peel old nametag off of stethoscope as I now have a spiffy one with a pretty metal nameplate.

But right now...right now I think Angel's probably managed to warm up the bed, dump all the sheets on my side, kick the middle blanket down to the foot of the bed, and steal the quilt. Must go inflict the infinite torture of cold toes upon him. Yes. Oh, and Piccy? How about this icon? :)

Oooh, me, me!

	

	

	

		
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How compatible with me are YOU?

, I didn't know you and I had so much in common... And now I think I'm done post-whoring for a bit.

Yesterday, I was an angel...

Was driving up to Curves and came up the bridge on State. Traffic was backed up. And then I saw why - in the left lane of the bridge was a stopped car - so everyone had to get into the right lane, go around it, and get back in the left lane. And I passed it, and I thought Wow, that sucks. And then I got halfway up over the bridge, and I thought Wow, that really sucks, and I remember being stuck in the middle of the road. So I pulled into the parking lot on the other side, and I got out of the car, and I walked back across the bridge and I said "Can I help?" Black chick in the car (this is important because otherwise what she said would've been creepy) says to me "Thank you! All these men passing by don't even look...I should've thought a sista would stop and help!" So it turns out she thinks she needs a jump. I can't do that on the bridge, no way. So I suggest pushing her car backwards down the hill and into the Northside parking lot. "Traffic's too bad" she says. Maybe. I turn around and look back. Just then a van pulls into the left turn lane, puts on its blinker, traffic backs up behind it. Gives us fifty feet of clear space. We back the car up. It's a slight uphill into the Northside lot; I didn't think I could push it alone. Not to mention that the right lane of traffic was breezing busily by. As I was struggling for an idea, a van pulls up behind us and two high-school girls hop out. "Can we help?" One stopped the traffic in the right lane, the other one helped push. Went like a charm. It turned out to be her starter, from the sound of it. She had to call a tow anyway. But she wasn't trapped in the middle of the road. The most amazing string of seemingly-coincidental events, and yet from the top to the bottom, I had no doubt in my mind that everything would go my way. It was just...a feeling. Thank you, God.

Scan me! Scan me!

LJ Barcode LJ username:

Quotes, 30 May...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Leftover quote pie...

• David: Is it moving? GM: It is now. Roll me init.
• Jefe: I start singing inspiring battle hymns. General chorus of "Indiana Jones" theme.
• Jefe: So if it's slowed, does that mean I get attacks of opportunity? GM: No, that just means it's poky.
• Me: I'm not on crack any more, because crack fucks me up.
• Me: I take the corpse's foreskin. David: I reincarnate it. Angel: You can't. It's Jewish now. Much later, on reading of quotes, David: I get it.
• David: What is it with you and doors?
• Me: I'm making myself so interesting to the DM that he'll keep me alive just to see what the fuck I'll do next. Angel: In the meantime, you're really scaring the other drow.
• David: Since when do lizards have boobs?
• Angel: 11. Me: 20. Jefe: I have to make a save, what?
• David: I am my own scroll of change self.
• Angel: I cast Mordenkainene's Card Catalog.
• Angel: Someone enlighten the daft man.
• GM (ah, the wonders of pre-genned random dungeons): That I wouldn't bother going down because - oh, my god, what the fuck? Okay, there's no door there.
• Me: We walk along in the glorious anticipation of a door.
• GM: You see an alcove. Angel: A senile cove? (Read it out loud, it makes sense.)
• GM: And you take the door. Me: Right there, in the hallway, we take the door. Jefe: Full Metal Jacket.
• Bri: No, no, wait. Let me guess. We see another door.
• Jefe: And I will do some damage to it, which I will proceed to relate to you as soon as I find a bloody freakin' 8-sided die.
• David: I didn't think it (the builder) can just gatling-gun you with its eyes. Angel (to me): Can you hand me that gatling - errh, cushion - by your knees?
• Bri: (sneezes) David: Gawoomba! James: What? David: You heard me. Me: Gawoomba! It's Aboriginal for "is that mucus on your fingers?"
• David (singing): Q is for quickie, that's good enough for me...
• Angel: I is not real! I is not real!
• Me: Have you ever rubbed a beholder on your hair - GM: - and stuck it to the wall?
• Me: Holy shit, we're on our second round of combat? Angel: What, did you quadruple the hit points? GM: Basically.
• David: I want a staff I can do damage with instead of turning it into a tree. Angel: Stick it up its ass, then turn it into a tree. James: Ow! Splinter!

Ants...

Went to Sam's yesterday. They had ant killer. Angel wouldn't let me buy it because "we don't need that much." Yes. Yes we do. We need it to go all the way around the house, and all the way around the laundry room and to do it every day until I can walk in my own goddamned house without being afraid. Because I just swept up a huge pile of little dead ants, and as I was doing it, a half-dozen more came crawling out of the wall to set up a new shop. There are ant bodies when I shake out the bathroom rugs. They build their fucking hills right over the ant poison. I've doused the floor in Windex, because it makes their little bodies shrivel up and die, but it won't last. He keeps forgetting to get some - and he doesn't like it when I try to get it. It's a nightmare for me. I don't understand how someone can keep forgetting something this important. I can feel them crawling on me, even sitting over here. I've checked my pants five times to make sure there aren't any, and I can still feel them. I'm afraid to walk through my own kitchen. All I wanted was some lunch. I don't know if I have the stomach to eat it now. I keep having paranoid fantasies about opening the fridge to find boiling masses of ants. But I'm starving. And I have to go back over there sometime; I can't get to my car keys without. I hate this. Don't you understand?

Splish-splash I was takin' a bath...

Resolved this morning to sleep until I was done sleeping. Which subsequently turned out to be around 10:30 AM. It being now 11:30 AM, I'm content to brush my hair, put clothes on, and do something today. I need to put the wallpaper back up so Zia can paint. I need to go work out at Curves. I need to finalise going through my sheets for tonight's campaign. And wow, I'm hungry. Ansibilians - anyone want to help me out and RP with Teryn a bit? I trust y'all not to be stupid about finding a launchie on deck C, coming out of the bathrooms. It'll be fun. Plus, I have (as of yet) no motivation to put him in an army; his character isn't shaped enough yet :) First things first, though: I'm starving.

A name quiz.

you're a Tori... or a Nicole. i bet youre a Nicole,
arent you?

What name suits you best(for teen girls only)?
brought to you by Quizilla I want to know how many options there are, and what teacher taught this bint to spell... And speaking of spelling: You, "vegitarians", yes you, make LJ suck! I'm going to bed.

Found on Ideanet...

There is a shower of autumn
    around me, death
           made lovely and given form.
      leaves tumble and tumble
and twist around,     
        there is a memory
                in the fall and falling                                     
    leaves like yesterday,
             and soon there will be snow,
and cold white death.
          NsK 20-10-2000 
               "autumnsong"

I don't know if I had these two anywhere but IDEAnet; they're old enough for me to have to go looking if I want to remember.

           
Good morning morning,
  kiss of a new dawn.
      Good morning stars that shine dark                    
and the waking memories of yesteday                         
   unborn. 
           
Good morning morning,
      silent and breathless, waiting
  waiting for the morning
    to call its own name out 

Good morning morning,
     have you seen the sun rising?
  Good morning stars that shine bright
        and the darkness of forgotten   
mornings.
        NsK 17-08-2000
                "Good morning"

Yay for ZoneEdit!

DNS for mistwalker.org is handled currently by ZoneEdit.com. I switched off of EveryDNS and Hammernode after Hammernode gave me too much downtime and EveryDNS had serious troubles following a particularly nasty dDOS - making me unable to get ZoneEdit to come up as a secondary DNS. Plus, ZoneEdit let me buy backup MX service for something under $40 a year. Those of you on Arcana and Gargoyle will have noted that our availability has been somewhat flaky. See previous posts regarding Comcast and its issues involving us specifically. While this is inconvenient for MOOs...I handle mail - real e-mail, involving meetings and credit card notices and stuff - for people other than myself and Angel. I needed a backup MX after the last time we unexpectedly took the server down with a runaway shell script. ZoneEdit provided. And today, ZoneEdit delivered mail to me after we had been down half the day. This is a tiny bright spot in my otherwise markedly frustrating day. Must move roleplaying books from their currently inaccessible alcove in the family room. There are nails in the mantelpiece. Little ones, the kind that will suddenly grab you by the breast and rip the everloving fuck out of one of your favourite green shirts, thus rendering it incapable of being worn. All this for the sin of wanting to put my binders away. That'll teach me to pick up after myself. Other small random smiles: [13:19] Erica: i found my old paper journal....i was reading trhough it. [13:19] Erica: one of the entries: "I'm kinda freaking out about tonight. I get to meet the wonderful and attractive Nykki tonight..." [13:21] Erica: (I don't think, in all the times I've heard Mike talk about you, that a bad adjective ever came up. I was sort-of poking fun at his way of describing you there....it wasn't meant to be mean.) [13:21] Erica: (You had me nervous. You were the first of his high-school friends I'd met, save Summer. And I'd only met her once or maybe twice, really...) [13:22] Whisper: *laughs* [13:22] Whisper: And I'm much different from Summer. [13:22] Erica: want to hear what i had to say the day afterwards? [13:23] Erica: "I did meet Nykki. She was very nice, actually. Quite confident and teasing, flirtatious, too, though no worse than Chris and I. She was funny and laughed at my jokes--something that's always appreciated. All-in-all, a good weekend." That made me smile. It's a good recommendation. It's also v. comforting to know that I come off as confident...considering how unconfident I seem sometimes. Iwona, once not long before an exam last year, said to me: "Aren't you ever worried? You never seem to be worried about anything." Aren't I worried? That was the semester I worried myself into physical illness before every exam, literally spending the nights before exams throwing up from nerves sometimes. But I told myself I couldn't go to school with that kind of attitude... And then good ol' ... >>> Sutef tells you "Plan on getting hit on again today ? ;)" >>> You tell Sutef, "Most likely not." >>> Sutef tells you "awwwwww" >>> Sutef tells you "You have a picture? *never seen you, but I've seen like...Lisa and quin and Colin*" >>> To Sutef: Teryn laughs. http://www.mistwalker.org/~vita/pix/matrix/me.JPG >>> To Sutef: Teryn probly has a better one somewhere. >>> Sutef tells you "harder to see your face in that one, but I can see why they hit on you (:" >>> You tell Sutef, "http://www.mistwalker.org./~vita/pix/lj-host/cbus.jpg" >>> Sutef tells you "Oo more" >>> Sutef tells you "thankies (:" >>> Sutef tells you "Ayup, if I were..older and you were single and I didn't have Lisa, I'd more than likely hit on ya." >>> Sutef tells you "granted, those don't happen, but hey (:" I am obscurely flattered. In the immortal words of Monty Python, I suppose: Always look on the bright side of life. The brightest part of it being that Angel should be leaving for home quite soon. I lovemiss you.

*stabstabstabstabstab*

Yes, ma'am, you're still on the schedule. But he may be running an hour or two behind. Because I have Nothing Better To Do With My Day than spend from 9 AM until God-only-knows-when Unable To Leave My House so I can wait for the cable tech. 14:30: Oh, and whoops. There goes the modem. Argh. 16:40: He called Angel's phone, listed as our home phone, and got voicemail. Assumed nobody was home. Cancelled the appointment. I couldn't've gone anywhere anyway. I don't have my purse on me. I think it's in Angel's car. No money, no licence, no nothing. Have spent the day printing out WotC maps and modules to wrap my campaign around. Have the first four or five sessions planned. Party is going to murder me, as they will be low-level suckness with no money forever. Am v. excited about the 3x5 page map hanging on the wall, where I will put the Bad Guy and such as soon as I get it laminated. Final several sessions will be large dungeon crawl. Due to excessive printing of brown and yellow-themed WotC stuff, have emptied the yellow ink tank. Would go get another, but no driving or purchasing without proper equipment (i.e. licence and cash). Computer is thus making annoying beeping noises at me every 30-45 seconds as the "empty ink tank" message fills the screen and steals focus from my typing. I would ride my bike to get an ink tank. I think I broke my toe on the couch again. It hurts to stand on it. And Angel will be home soon, even though I've been screaming and bitching at him over the phone all afternoon for being who he is. It's been a long and painful day. It will be over soon. Angel will be home, and it will all go away when he reaches out to hug me. That's all it'll take. That's all I ever need. Now to decide on the race of the overwhelming plot mechanic. I'm leaning away from Dragon, for once, you will all be glad to know. And as some people discovered, I didn't ask for any half-dragons, Cat People, or other strange races. I seek the mundanity I so often abhor. That means, Paladins, behave yourselves or I'll make nasty examples of you :)

Stop! Oh, yes, wait a minute, Mr. Postman!

The postman brought me an envelope from the Bursar's today. This refund represents your IUPUI bookstore restutution claim and my include other miscellaneous small credits. Seems the IUPUI bookstore was accused of price-fixing, and even though I take classes in FW, we are part of the restitution process. Who am I to complain about $114.29 appearing in my mailbox? Although Angel made anime-eyes at me for it, see: God . o O ( Comcast show up yet? ) Vita . o O ( Nope, but $114 did. ) God . o O ( O_o ) I don't think I should tell him now.

I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair...

Weighed the relevant data: (1) If I wash my hair, the Comcast person will show up while I am washing my hair. (2) The Comcast people never show up before the last possible minute (3) My hair still reeks of smoke from Tuesday night (3) My brush got irrevocably caught in it when trying to render a simple ponytail. The last decided it, and I washed my hair. No Comcast people. I dreamed last night, and the hair thing reminded me, that I had cut my hair up to my chin and permed it. And everyone kept telling me how cute I looked. I was disturbed.

Morning has broken...

Nose aches; I think it is afflicted with a stealth-zit, as the left side is somewhat warmer and more tender than the rest of my face. I am up, but not exactly happy to be so. Have been dredged from the realms of dreaming (It was about climbing a mountain - Mount Everest, I think, except that there were forests. And in the forests, there was a spider-goddess that some fool awakened because he needed holy spider spit. And we were attempting to put her back in her cave, except she kept picking up the trees and moving the forest around. It was fun.) because Comcast couldn't give me a more specific time interval for my appointment than "Between 9 and 1." Jeans are damp; the dryer was a little overfull. Am pondering meeting the cable repair person in just black bikinis and a green T-shirt, but I think that might cause him to question his contract. Besides, it might be a cable girl, and girls - I've noted - are more likely to ask why I had no pants on. And then she would laugh at me for having a sad dryer. Pants are extraneous, really. At least I have my contacts in. Think I'll go downstairs and get something to eat before I settle in to deciding how best to include everyone in tomorrow night's opening session. Do you prefer any particular method of impending doom, , , , , or ? I have many ways at my disposal. Also: Character Sheets and Backstories, if I haven't seen them or approved yours.

La, la-lala-la!

You are a two-winged Guardian Angel! Wandering the realms of the mortals you often bear the form of a mere human. It is your task to guard your charge against the perils of the shadows. You are good-natured and friendly, trusted by everyone, helpful and kind. But when in danger you show a fierce protective side that often surprises your adversaries. What kind of supernatural being are you?
brought to you by Quizilla This should surprise more or less absolutely nobody. Is a good angel to be. Last night: karaoke. Had a surprising amount of fun, all things considered. The scary boob-job running it was hitting on Watson, so we left early. Apparently men who can actually sing Born to be Wild really turn her on or something. No, scary boob-job. Back off. Buy another inch of tank top coverage, because while I can appreciate good cleavage...damn. Benefits to going to Tuesday Night karaoke: Dollar mixed drinks. No cover charge. Chance to sing three songs Watson and I each, and one for Angel. Did While my Guitar Gently Weeps, Six Days on the Road, and Like a Prayer. Boob-job was all about Like a Prayer, scary thing. Why didn't she get her nose done too? And oh, darling? If you're taking codeine, don't swig beers. It's bad for you. Other karaoke-ers: Varying talents. Women were all v. good. Most likely much better than I was. Men were...well, of varying talents. The drunk gay guys who only knew the choruses, the would-be-white-boy-rapper (I think was one of the drunk gay guys), the several middle-aged men who could really sing quite well, including one who did an Eagles piece (which one? I forget now) that was just v. nice indeed, and followed it up with My Way in true style. And a few who couldn't sing at all. Got up this morning, watched Comcast smoke crack all day, as per yesterday (service call tomorrow!) and hung out. Am not v. good company to amuse people with, sorry Watson. James called about 1-1:30 and it was established that I was going to take him to Redi-Med before his tonsils swallowed his head whole and began to wander about eating random passers-by. Bid farewell to Watson. I'm a little sad he doesn't live closer; I think he would be fun to do things with in the group. Driving down to James's place, there's a hefty stretch of Clinton-or-Calhoun that's pretty much almost highway. And at a stoplight, I pulled up next to a red mid-90's car with a white canvas-top and two eighteen-20somethings in it. I look over at them, corner of my eye. I smile. They smile. We floor it as the light turns green. Michel-Ange is a 1987 Honda Accord. I refuse to put the tach over 4K. Guess who got to the next light first? I had to turn left the next light past, so I pulled into the left lane behind them. Shotgun sticks his hand out the window as I'm pulling into the left lane, motions me up next to them. I shake my head. He gestures - the universal telephone sign. It wasn't until I turned left that they abandoned their quest. What fun. James is sick (duh) but will be better with penicillin. most likely. The rest of the day has been as of yet uneventful.

Curiouser and curiouser...

11 AM: Attempting to motivate myself to actually take a shower. Cable going down on me for the second fucking time today sounds like a good motivating factor. 11:15: Make that third. It came up long enough to post one webpage. That's it, I'm taking a shower. And then I'm getting a freakin' backup MX before I lose mail. 11:30: And after the shower, there's still no sign of life from the Internet. Oddly, it happened at this time yesterday too. Too bad I have no 'phone to call Comcast with. I left it at Dad's on Saturday and haven't been back to get it yet. Two movies to return to Georgetown. I think I'll go out and make deliveries now, since otherwise I'm going to be bored out of my mind for the next hour until it comes back up. And I've got to stick around this afternoon or I might miss Watson getting here. Have been ordered by Clarabear, Strayling, and Watson now to read George R.R. Martin. I own A Game of Thrones - someone who shall remain nameless demanded that if I had $10 to spend at amazon.com I had better damn well buy it. I just have to find it, and then I can read all afternoon while I do laundry and suchlike. 11:40 AM. Up, then back down again. I'm going to get dressed and hope I get another 30-second window to post this in. 14:00. It appears to be up, although I wouldn't trust the godsdamned thing. I went to Dad's, and picked up another carload of boxes - which will now sit in my car while I do all the other things I was supposed to do this morning. Then instead of going to Georgetown and getting guilted into doing something like actually working out, just by being in the mere presence of Curves, I went to the main library's temporary HQ to return my DVD's. And then I got lost. Lost in the books, in the endless stacks of knowledge, of creativity, of people who had the will and the nerve and the ambition to put something down on paper. I got lost in the stacks, in the row upon row upon row of them. I wandered in at nonfiction, somewhere in the 600's, I think, and just kep walking until I was three rooms over in the fiction (Large Print, Sz) section, breathing in the scent of paper, flickering my eyes over so many titles I could never read them all. Just revelling in the books. Books books books books books. I only checked one out, and that one because I couldn't resist using the new self-checkout machine the library has. I didn't even look for any of the books on my list to read, I was too busy feeling the paper-dryness and the dust and the endless strings of letters and words and pictures soaking into my skin once more. It was like rediscovery. I only checked out one book. I came home with a dozen, though, as I browsed through the withdrawals and the books at Twice Sold Tales. Authours with names like familiar friends. Coulter. Cook. Anthony. Cussler. Zelazny. Card. Grafton. This book I have. This one I've given copies of away. I saw Penny at graduation. She still has Timequake. Keep it. Something to remember me by. What good is a book if it isn't shared? I can always get another. I can always find another friend in the stacks, another copy, another tale to tell. Books. Paper. Comforting rustles and memories of nights where sleep was long in coming, lost in fantasy. The time I finished It, and then realised that the sink in the bathroom leaked. Reading Koontz novels during a storm. Silence of the Lambs alone in an old empty house. Books that have travelled with me through Europe. The little hostels and bed and breakfasts with shelves of paperbacks. Trade them in for new ones. I have Harry Potter in French; Le petit Prince in Japanese, and I lost a Spanish copy of Don Quixote that had illustrations by Gustav Doré when the postal service broke open my box of books on its way home from France and sent them everywhere. Books I don't know I have. Books I've always dreamed of owning. A list of books to read that spans my entire twenty-four years of life. I read Nancy Drew in kindergarten, when the librarian told me I wasn't old enough to read books off of the Big Kids' shelves. She made me read a passage to her to prove that I could. She's never forgotten me. I've never forgotten discovering a used bookstore on the way home from school. I read Darwin and Shakespeare and Plato before going to bed when I was ten years old. My father read to me at night, Madeleine L'Engle, and when I asked what a word meant he made me break it down to stem and root, name synonyms and syllables. My mother read to me. I couldn't be banished to my room as a child because I had hundreds of books. It was no punishment at all. I won the reading contest at the local library every year. I don't even remember how many books I read in a summer as a child - but my mother can probably still tell you. I learned to love words then, and to love them still, learned to delve and turn and shape them to my will, to paint with them and to recreate the things that I saw in my mind. In these past two years I had begun to wonder if some subtle treachery had turned them into my bitterest enemies as I studied and strained and grew to hate them at times; but that ugly stain on my mind and soul has been cleansed - erased - obliterated. They are words. They have been my stead and my guide for more than twenty years, since my mother and father first opened a book and began to read to me. They have not turned against me, and they never will.

And now to some real meat...

Today was good. Collected people around 3:30-4ish, had lots of food and most of it got eaten. Random-mobbed around the neighbourhood, got the weeds whacked by Dad and made plans to build bookshelves. Watched Jonah. Played in the backyard with the giant blue-green ball. Then played a 2x5 game of Trivial Pursuit, which was amusing because we had two history majors, a poly-sci major, two computer-science majors, and the rest of us, and we all sucked super-bad at Sports and Leisure, but everything else turned into a huge tangent. Much random guessing. Two groups got all their pie slices. The S&L winner question turned out to be an ice-skating question, which was sad because Lily knew it, so we couldn't keep the game going even longer. It's nice to have a dad who's cool enough to invite to a cookout with your friends and then watch him and them enjoy themselves. It was wonderful to see Josh and the girl who stays with him whose name I think starts with J but I'm always to embarrassed to admit I've forgotten yet again. Is good to have friends who have fun doing things like playing Trivial Pursuit. Hell, it's just good to have the friends I do. D: I am not a geek! Me: Says the man wearing a Warcraft III T-shirt. D: Damn. It's late; they're watching Crouching Tiger, but I just don't have any interest in staying without my Angel here to curl up with, so I think I'm going to go to bed and watch him sleep for a while. Last one out, lock the door. Watson's visiting tomorrow night. Mixed emotions; hope he's not bored or awkward, I don't do a good job of entertaining. Have planned some things to do to fill time, including possibly going to go do karaoke at Pieres, which sort of intimidates me a whole freakin' lot, since Pieres is this gigantic club in Fort Wayne and I really have no experience going to clubs in the US. But I figure I can handle it. I can handle a lot of things. Anyone who wants to come, come and sing with us. More details when we decide them. And now my contacts are blurring, so necessity sends me to bed in tandem with desire. Good night, world. Be at peace tonight.

Information. Vitals. Life.

I feel an obligation to fill this out. I don't do e-mail surveys, though. Hence the LJ-cut, which I'm certain Ryk will get around to reading a few days or weeks from now. 1. What time is it? 00:16 2. Name: Nykki 3.Name as it appears on birth certificate: Nicole Suzanne Keim 4. Nickname: Nykki, nykkit, naked, ykki, Cat, Vita, Vitums, Shan, Shannie, and probably a host of others. I like to answer to names. 5. Number of candles on your last birthday cake: Well, I turned 24. I think I had candles. 6. Missing question 7: Pets: Planning a cat. None currently. 8. Natural Hair color: Brown, with a hint of Danish in it. 9. What friend will have the most entertaining answers? You know, I have several people who vie for rulers of TMI. I couldn't say. 10. Eye color: HGreen mostly, and according to my driver's licence. Muchly variant. 11. How much do you love your job on a Scale of 1 to 10? Job? I have a job? The last two years have been a 1, maybe a 2. Someday that will change. 12. Birth Place: Parkview Hospital, Fort Wayne, IN 13.Current Residence: Fort Wayne, IN 14. Favorite food: Macaroni and cheese. Oh, and fetuccini alfredo, and anything Angel cooks, especially Japanese. 15. Been to Africa? Not yet. Some day, I want to work there. 16. Been toilet papering? Nope. 17. Love someone so much it made you cry? Mmmm. 18. Been in a car accident? I've only totalled one car so far... 19. Croutons or bacon bits? Croutons. Bacon's ickydisgusting. 20. Favorite day of the week: Saturdays. 21. Favorite word or phrase: Favourite? Oh, havens, I don't know. I love all words. 22. Favorite Restaurant: The Mikado, in downtown Indianapolis. 23. Favorite flower: Peace roses. 24. Favorite sport to play: *coughs* I don't play sports. 25. Favorite drink: Water. 26. Favorite Ice cream: Vanilla bean. Or butter pecan. 28. Favorite fast food restaurant: Arby's 29. What color is your bedroom carpet: Neutral. 30. How many times did you fail your drivers test: None, by a hair. 31. Besides this one, from whom did get your last e-mail? A stack of 'em. Who knows. 32. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card: Amazon.com 33. What do you do most often when you are bored: Write or play with my computer. 34. Most annoying thing people ask: Oh, I don't know. Anything that assumes I'm a doctor already and thus can give better advice than their current Health Care Professional. 35. Bedtime: Midnightish 36. Who will respond to this email the quickest? Neh. Probably nobody. 37. Who is the person that is least likely to respond? I hate this question. 38. Favorite TV show/movie: Forensic files/Princess Bride 39. Last person you went out to dinner with: Angel. 40. Ford or Chevy: Honda. Definitely Honda. 41. Time you finished this e-mail: 00:34 And Survey number two, thanks to ... 1. When did you first connect ("go online"), and how? By my best count, 1993 or 1994. I dialed into IDEAnet, a BBS that I wasn't supposed to have unsupervised access to at the time, and used the login a friend of mine had cajoled from somewhere else entirely. I joined the poetry and short stories communities there. And we used Gopher to find files, too. 2. What was your first communications program? Oh, geez. It's still the de facto telnet/communications program on a Macintosh, but I forget what it was called. I'd have to go boot up Merlyn to see. 3. When did you first chat over the Internet, and how? IDEAnet had a built-in chat client that I used to talk to people. So back in 1993 or 1994 again, it would appear. 4. What chat type program(s) do you use now? Trillian. I have names on AIM, MSN, ICQ and Yahoo! - several on each. Not to mention that I live on MOOs, which qualify as oversized chat programs. 5. Who was your first service provider? You mean, actual ISP? Prodigy. I remember explaining it to my mom even then. 6. Did you ever use AOL? Yep. Following Prodigy. Mom and Dad still have it. 7. Do you admit using AOL in public? Yes. I think it makes me a better person to have experienced it. Much like working in a fast-food restaurant made me a better person. 8. Who is your current ISP? Comcast. 9. What was the first computer that you used to access the 'net? Dad's Macintosh. Yum. 10. What computer do you use to access the 'net today? Ayradyss, Shain, Shalom, Heiwa or Tranquillity. All but Shain are hand-built AMD creatures running between 1.3 and 1.7 GHz. Shain is my laptop, a Sony GRX series with a 16.1" screen that looks damned beautiful on Neverwinter Nights. 11. What was your first 'net handle? Nykk. 12. Did you use any other handles for any length of time? If so, what were they? I've used Wanderlust, Carydhuin, Whisper, Darkstar, Cat, ShyEagle, Mysticat, Ratiel, Sekkyro, Naisse, Felisa, Vita, Guenhywfar/Gwenhwyfar/Guenever, Rose Winter DeHaven, Lucia, Ayradyss, and Seeker. Did I miss any, exclusive of my MOO names? 13. What 'net handle do you normally use now? Ayradyss or Carydhuin for anything but MOOs. Whisper for any MOO admin position I have. Vita and Lucia now and again, but I'm so accustomed to those and Whisper being taken that I rarely try any more. 14. Are you active on any Web sites other than LJ? Honorable Players boards. Occasionally 's boards with Ezboard. I read a lot of webcomics. Mostly, though, I MOO.

Argh.

12:35 PM. Back down. 12:57 PM. Back up.

I am not a moron.

11:30 AM. I go to check the CNN story on...oh, hell, I forget what it was. Connection refused. I pop open Firebird and watch three homepages spit back Connection Refused. I call Angel. Do we have blinky lights? This is Nykkit for "Is the cable modem down again?" Yes, he tells me. Just one blinky light. The top one. This is Cable Modem for "I have no ISP." Wait 10 minutes. Call Comcast. Navigate the phone tree to High-speed Internet/Service Outages/Complete Outages and get the "Please hold while we...oh, wait, our system is down. Please wait while we connect you to a representative" message. Cute. Representative woman gets my vitals and then talks me through resetting the cable modem. And the computer. I tell her There's still just the top light blinking. It doesn't have downstream. That's okay, Nicole. Try going to your web page now. Connection Refused. There's a big fucking surprise. I duly report it. No error messages or anything? She's concerned. No. Just Connection Refused. Try another page. I have three loading right now. All refused. Oh, um, okay, here's the Comcast Technical Support number...I suppose you should call them. What was your first fucking clue? I call Comcast Technical Support. She takes my vitals, listens to my complaint (it's happened before, with no outage in the area) and says "Let me check for outages in your area." Thank you. No outages, she then asks me if my cable modem is connected directly to my computer. No. It's connected to a router. I practise Safe Surfing. And you're the first support person ever to ask me that. Okay, she says, and checks her screen. I don't have your modem making a connection. That's what I don't have here either. I've just got the "searching for ISP" light. Can you unplug the cable modem and the router? Yes. Yes, I can do that. Gladly. I do so. And she asks if I can plug a computer directly into the modem. Yes, I can do that too. Thank you for asking instead of assuming I had the computer right there to plug in. What operating system? XP Home. Get the laptop, plug it in. Bring up the modem only. I've still got just one blinky light. This has happened before? she confirms. Yes. Yes it has. How many times in what time frame? Three or four over the last two months. Sometimes for up to a few hours at a go. Aren't you the bright shining Tech Support star? You're asking all the right questions for once. Sounds like I should go ahead and schedule a service call, get a tech out to check your line. I love you, Tech Support Woman. No wasting time with troubleshooting my computer when it's obviously not my computer. Tech call is scheduled for Thursday morning. I have a reference number. I hang up, stomp downstairs, and regale Angel with the tale. Our support instructions when I worked for (large hardware company) support included "check the lights on the satellite modem", he informs me. You'd think an ISP would too. Saving entry for later, as we have a party to throw now. 12:30 PM. Seems to be up....

Yesterday, the mailman brought presents...

The mailman brought my student loan check. The mailman brought a property tax bill. And Angel brought home the money to pay for our cablemodem this month. Today, we got Angel's church paycheck. Today, I went to D's graduation (more on that later, I think) and since we were in town, we went to pay Grandpa back the $5,000 he helped us with on the house. Had a most wonderful visit, had pecan pie and talked about medicine and the church. And when we tried to write him the check, he made very sure that we could afford to pay him back at all, and then told us to keep a thousand of it. Plus, he gave us an ironing board. Thank you, Grandpa. Thank you very much. It means a lot more than the money is worth...

S.A.G.E. Test Results Your Raw Score is: 505, which indicates that overall you are Androgynous Your appearance is Feminine Your brain processes are mostly that of a Androgynous person. You appear to socialize in a feminine manner. You believe you have mild conflicts about your gender identity. You indicated your were born Female. ANALYSIS: Female to Male Crossdresser NOTES: Your Answers indicate your psychological state has likely prevailed since you were quite young. You are in a statistical minority as a bisexual crossdresser. Most crossdressers are heterosexual. Your motivation for crossdressing may be driven by the binary nature of your sexuality, as a way to more fully explore the Male gender role. The S.A.G.E. test... Thank my parents. I learned to love math and science at a very young age. Up until the Female to Male Crossdresser part, it's all pretty accurate. But I don't crossdress, and I haven't really felt any desire to be anything but female since I learned how to exploit the role. When I was young I wanted to be a boy - probably because I mostly only hung out with boys. Problem is, a lot of those questions had no answer that really applied to me. I enjoy sewing and mending like I enjoy fixing cars: because it's a fun thing to do, not because it arouses me or it's "Men's work" or "Women's work"...Most frustrating. Angel's been asleep on my lap for 2 hours. It's most definitely bedtime. *sleeps*

I know, <lj user="beautifulsound">, I'm a post whore.

I went here expecting to find only the sort of drivel promised by the Evil Ninja Insult of the Day. Then I clicked on the Rants link. And read one, and laughed. An excerpt from "How Can the Terrorists Lose?":

So, I've been trying to figure out a way to make the terrorists lose. It's been an uphill battle. My first thought was that working hard and paying my taxes would screw every terrorist big time. As it turns out, my parents' tax money actually trained Osama bin Laden to fight the Commies. When they paid their taxes, the terrorists won. Maybe my tax dollars will fund the next bunch of terrorists. That just doesn't seem right. Well, I'll still pay my taxes, but this year I'm sending a note that my taxes should be used to help out retards and crack babies - I have a lot of empathy for the underpriveleged. I hope the IRS listens.

Satire amuses me. And I found quite a few of his satirical pieces to be gems. With truth in them, such as "Why I hate Jesus." I had to share. In the words of my darling Lily, the men are falling asleep. It's awful cute.

For all the girls in the audience:

The discussion today was involving Toad and cunnilingus and the problems that the sticky bit on his tongue would cause. And we had the collective memory lane trip. Can you sympathise: That time when your underwear bands wore just a little too thin, and you discovered upon trying to remove them that those tiny elastic threads inside the fabric were covered with fabric for a reason? And the ubiquitous middle-school period story...Mine being the very first time I wore tampons, and didn't think about "backup", so to speak. I remember one of the popular girls spending gym class in the locker room with me trying to scrub the stain out of my shorts - "I'll tell him you're having 'female problems' if he asks" - and Amanda called her mother, who was a stay-at-home mom, and I got some replacement jeans after spending two periods in the office in abject misery. The jeans were elastic-waistband. I might almost have wanted the stained shorts instead. Shock and horror when they changed the colour of maxi-pad wrappers from a nice ignorable pink to bright purple, here-I-am-yellow, and oh-hello-green? The boxes that you got handed out in gym class with deodorant and acne wash and suckers in them? Girls got Tampax. Boys got Doritos. Never hand out Tampax to middle-schoolers during the school day. Wow. That was almost traumatic.

Augh, introspection....

Was going to work on Doubly Dead. Think I will have to wait for some other time, as I am no longer feeling like writing from the viewpoint of a dead girl. 1. Your Live Journal "user name" & what it means: Ayradyss, explained previously. She is the virtual lover of the title character from Zelazny and Lindskold's "Donnerjack", which is a book I found particularly appealing. Read it if you need to know more about her. Besides, it's rare enough that I can usually snag it on online forums, unlike Vita or Whisper, which are the names I prefer to use. 2. On a scale of 1-10 (10 being the highest) how well does your Live Journal represent who you actually are? Probably close to an 8 or 9. I've discovered a fondness for taking the mental dialogues that I'm so prone to having with myself and inflicting them on others. I've also probably told everyone more than they ever wanted to know about medical school. But as far as representing who I really am? Oh, yes. I don't tell everything, even to myself. 3. How much about your life do you post to LJ? Quite a bit. Enough. If you want a blow-by-blow that could be arranged. 4. Is there anything you refuse to post about? Off the top of my head? No. There are quite a few things I don't really bother to post about, being things that I take as a matter of course, and my internal editor requires me to word some things most carefully as to avoid sounding like some sort of hideous soap opera script. But I don't refuse to post about anything, per se. 5. On a scale of 1-10 how interesting do you think your own journal is to others? Let's say around a 6 or so. I think I'm interesting...perhaps I think I'm more interesting than everyone else thinks I am, but if I didn't think people were interested in me I wouldn't be pimping my journal everywhere. 6. From who/how did you find out about LJ? From Eclipse on Gargoyle, who was handing out codes. 7. Has anyone ever joined LJ because of you? Well, my used codes list seems to be always growing. I'm sort of an LJ-whore in that respect, having a permanent account and 5 codes a month. 8. What proportion of your posts are friends only? A very few. 9. What is your favourite interest on LJ? None stated. Reading other people's lives, I guess.... 10. How many missing questions have their been on this survey that you've had to make up yourself? Whahuh? 11. How often do you respond to/comment on other peoples' journals? Once in a while? When there's something that merits being said. I don't like to just put comments for no reason. 12. Do you prefer to write in your journal, read other journals? Yes, please. 13. Have you ever had something mean said to you or been stalked, harassed, or got into an argument/flame war on LJ (or did it to someone else)? Not to the best of my knowledge. 14. Have you ever banned someone from your journal? Bah, no. 15. Who are your favourite LJ friend(s) and why? Angel. Because I wuv him. 16. How many of your LJ friends have you actually met? Dear gods, half of them were friends IRL first. 17. Of all of the people on LJ you know of, who is the most like you? Um. Deferring judgment. 18. Why are you most likely to add someone to your friends list? If I like their turn of phrase, and I think their words have redeeming value. Once, I got 5 entries into someone's journal, was enjoying it immensely, then got to the entry about "fucking spics" that just blew my mind. No friendslisting there. 19. Do you automatically add friends to your journal if they add you first? Usually. 20. What is the most likely reason you wouldn't add someone to your friends list? See question #18. 21. Is your "significant other" on LJ? 22. Have you ever wanted to meet someone on LJ? I want to meet everyone. I'm awful that way. I feel...well, distinctly uncreative. Bleah. I think I'll sleep.

No laughink!

Ganked from : Poke the Bunny. Mind, this one had Angel on the floor, not because of the website, but because I must have jumped a mile when...well, go there. Poke the bunny. And I'm staring at my computer in shock and horror, and he's practically falling over, laughing. Damn man. No support at all. Also Ganked: The porn cannot be displayed... And the online, pre-date confidence builder. It's like being back in B-movie all over again.

Quotes

• Jefe: This campaign will be affectionately known to me as the "Michael Flatley Campaign". GM: Yes, it's the Goddess-Flatley Campaign. Lily: Michael Flatley only thinks he's a goddess.
• GM: Wooly mammoth...wooly mammoth... Bri: Lots of dead squished spiders... GM: Note to self: Glittertits gets it this session.
• Me: Wait, who's limp? GM: The goddess... Angel: Did you want to carry her?
• Me: And you know you've found the prostate when the person you're examining has to pee. General agreement from the men in the room. James: I've never had a rectal exam, per se...
• GM: Oh, what did I name her? Various suggestions of 'Atrocia', 'The goddess?', 'Skank', 'Bint'... Me: Cum-catcher? Long silence ensues. Angel: Had to think about that one, didn't you? GM: Yes.
• GM: So, anyway, Cum-dumpster goes out to the next room... Angel: She wasn't going to say anything anyway... Me: Nope. Her mouth was full.
• GM: A room full of twenty-five armed guards, all armed and bristling. Angel: I bristle faster.
• Angel: I have my hand stuck in a goddess's chest. Me: At least it wasn't a trans-vaginal heart transplant... James: You can do that?
• James: My anus is not that flexible.
• Angel: The coffee pot was just sitting there, calling "Use meee! Uuuuuse meeee!" Me: And he just has to oblige when something's begging to be used... GM: I want to percolate!
• GM: A sphere of whores.
• Bri: Amsterdam. Sounds like an Aerosmith concert.
• GM: No, she's just praying... Jefe: We love you, goddess-mine, come back to us... Me: Because (singing) You make me feel like a natural woman... A Broadway moment ensues.
• Me: Bri? What are you doing...? Bri: Trying to figure out a way to go deaf. GM: I hear masturbation'll do that. Me: It'll also grow hair on the palms of your hands. Everyone checks their palms. Nope.
• Me: Do you know how long it took me to learn how to throw a javelin instead of just running around stabbing people with it? Blank stares. Angel: Diablo II. Jefe: Oh, thank you. Because I was wondering "When did she stab people with javelins, and why wasn't I invited?"
• Me: It's a vocal tic. You have motor tics and vocal tics. Angel: I heard 'tit'. Me: TIC! TIC! Jefe: I heard 'dick'.
• Andy: No, actually, (growing up gay in the mountains) was pretty nice. Nothing like having a bunch of six-foot two, two-hundred-fifty pound mountain guys behind you when you go walking in New York City...."You want a piece of me? Jim-Bob, step up to the line..."
• Angel: How high is the ceiling? GM: In the temple? Ungodly high. Me: No, it's pretty godly high.
• Me: The safest place in the world to be when I'm shooting a rubber band... Angel and GM: Is the one she's aiming at.
• Me: So what, you just whip out your dog-statues? Jefe (shaking his wrist at me): It's my charm bracelet. James: See, I told you he had a gay gene.
• Angel: I manifest compression GM: He manifests enlarge and steps on you. Jefe: Skish.
• Bri: Technically, I don't think it would be frowned upon, since they're both undead. Jefe: How about a living person and a zombie? "It was still moving, Bob..."
• Angel: I planeshift him to...the elemental plane of "It-will-kill-him". GM: Is this the plane you just made up?
• Jefe: I'm going to cast Tasha's hideous laughter... GM: Do you have a tart? Me: Yeah, Glittertits.
• Bri: How can you tell if a mummy looks at you funny? GM: He just looks at you.
• GM: "Tessa?" "Yes?" And then they have a conversation because I don't want to talk to myself.
• Me: I go pick the drow bint up. GM: You pick her up. Me: And dust her off. GM: You are now thoroughly dusted off.
• Jefe: Make me a god. I'll be a good god.
• Jefe: I have a scroll of Detect Snares and Pits. GM: Ooooh! His sleeves are trapped
• Angel: Burning hands, not flaming hands. GM: Oh, yeah. It's this (holds hands out) not this (makes limp-wrist gesture)
• James (discussing mummies): Better than European women, and with less hair, too. Jefe: If you like corpses...
• Me: Aaaand...after damage reduction, that's 18 points. GM: Thank God for damage reduction.
• Me: Just think of all that rotting flesh stuck in your gums...
• Angel: And then you open the fridge, and there's a tiny skeleton looking up at you. Shiver, shiver, shiver...
• Me (viewing photos at hypnox.com [WARNING! He's a "Fetish photographer"]): Wow, what's that? Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something hot pink?
• GM: It tried to paralysing gaze you. But it only really works when it's a Big Dragon.
• James (to Andy): Are you allergic to fruit? General laughter.

Please note (extended RP rant post):

The following information is in my character bio on Ansible. All of it can be read by anyone who wishes to type 'pinfo Teryn' and read it. IC Information: --Full name: Teryn Alexander Celestin --Age: 6 --Place of Birth: Kissimee, FL --Personality: Impulsive, impatient, inconsistent and inconsiderate in his personal relations, Teryn has a hard time making friends and an even harder time keeping them. As far as leadership goes, the boy has less than no ability at all. When confronted with a desk, he is capable of absorbing himself so completely in working on it that everything around him seems to disappear; a stark contrast to the rest of the time, when he can't even sit still for more than a few moments. It seems he's most comfortable conversing, relating, and existing behind the comfort of the screen. --Teryn is male. --Background: There is a difference between honesty and tactlessness; a fine line between spontaneity and outright impulsivity; a delicate balance between witty retort and caustic comment. Teryn is blissfully unaware of each. Impatient, impulsive, inconsistent and inconsiderate were the words that come to mind in the adults who watched him and monitored his behaviour. The other children didn't have the vocabulary or the inclination to come up with expansive descriptions. Teryn was a loser, a nerd, a geek and a brat, the last being the epithet so often applied to him by his elder sister that it doubled as a second name. And then he entered kindergarten, and she used it there. Brat. It stuck, and the children picked it up like a triumphant refrain. From the second day of kindergarten forward, he was called nothing else, any time the teachers weren't listening. It was bewildering at best, as he did not comprehend how everything he did seemed to turn against him, and infuriating at worst. Never the kind to settle challenges using his fists, Teryn turned to his desk, the silent, understanding, patient, comprehensible desk. He found in coding and cracking the endless intricacies of complexity and novelty that he had lacked in interpersonal relationships. And he found something else: behind the console, he could be anyone, anything. He could take the time to compose each reply to something someone said, think over it, discard his initial impulsive responses and hone them to a razor's edge. And nobody knew him as 'brat'. If he made a mistake, he could throw away the identity and start all over again. And thus, a curious dichotomy sprang up: as Teryn-the-brat became ever more sullen and withdrawn under the taunts of the other children, as his teachers despaired that a child so bright could do so poorly, Teryn-the-hacker began to soar. He took his revenge on his tormenters in subtle ways, altering files rather than deleting them, diverting desk messages, and sabotaging their work at every opportunity. And the IF noticed. The boy's skill in picking apart the tiniest details of code; his ability to spend hours upon hours focussed on the threads of a possible security hole despite the fact that he couldn't sit still for more than a few minutes at a time; his frightening gift for picking just the right time and place to make his attacks brought him to their attention. Dislikable? Absolutely. Impossibly frustrating? Positively. But he had the potential to be a strategic genius, and his creativity and talent were precisely what they needed. The shuttle came, and Teryn boarded, leaving the school and the long-hated title of 'brat' far behind. Hopefully forever. --Teryn is a Launchie. It's eloquent, it's well-written, if I do say so myself, and it says all you need to know about the kid,and then some. So when today, the following took place: Launchie_X comes in not looking at anything at all as he walks in his daze. He finds a seat in the corner of the mess hall and he sits and doesn't eat anything he just sits in his own fashion. He sits and pulls out his desk and does some work on it. The whole time not speaking or looking at anyone. Teryn is already buried in his own desk, doing something that has his entire attention - even to the exclusion of his meal, it seems. Launchie_X puts his desk down a second and pulls out a small pen that has a small cartoon reaper on it. He writes something down on a piece of paper with the pen and puts it away in a hurry. He picks up his desk and hurrys to the door and goes off towards his barracks. Launchie_X leaves. >>> Launchie_X tells you "I have a small plot that I am working with morrigan to do I am about to start my rping that is hacking but I need people that im alowed to do it with. So I ask you if you will plz let me hack you of course its fack but I need your permissoin to rp it on you." Is it any surprise that I then responded with: >>> You tell Launchie_X, "Have you read Teryn's pinfo?" >>> Launchie_X replies, "hold on I will right now" Will right now? How about you read the character information before engaging in the World's Shortest RP with me and then asking if I'll let you hack me? >>> Launchie_X replies, "you got a point not a good target I will pick a differnt person thanks for the warning oh and the reaper pen will make sense later bye." >>> To Launchie_X: Teryn nods. "I didn't think we were allowed to have things like pens. You check that with staff?" :) >>> Launchie_X replies, "I snuck it in if the staffs find it it will be taken so don't worry the man thing is the small reaper on it not the pen its self." >>> You tell Launchie_X, "Okay, cool." >>> Launchie_X replies, "oh and you don't name and we meet :)" >>> Launchie_X replies, "I mean never meet" >>> You tell Launchie_X, "Of course :)" Now mind, I am not averse to someone hacking into Teryn's system. I even know how his double-redundant stealth security works, and what he logs. And I don't expect it to be foolproof. He is six, after all, no matter how smart of a six-year-old he might be, and he has a lot to learn. But for heaven's sake, would you read the pinfo so you have an idea of what you'd be getting into? Augh. Edit: I forgot to mention the IC mail that he sent to some people I know...one of whom was kind enough to show it to me. From: Launchie_X To: (Names Withheld) Subject: [IC] !Hello! THIS MESSAGE IS FROM REAPER (As the message is opened the screen of the desk goes black and is lit up by what looks like a stage light in the middle of the screen. A small little cartoon reaper comes onto the desk screen and steps into the light and bows to the screen.The little reaper moves its mouth and the message comes out of a word bubble from this small reaper.) Hello there nice to meet you I am Reaper and I will be in the news soon. I just thought your army deserved a personal hello from me. I happen to like your army the most and will also talk to you mabe the most but I say I will not do anything to anyone in your army. If anything I may help you. (The small reaper winks one of its empty eyes and sends a small star at the screen when he does this before he starts to talk again.) One more thing I must say I can not be reached by mailing this small boy on the address I just sent my mail from his address as it would be easyer to do this then have my own address I could be tracked to easy that way. I just wanted to say hello to you and hope you and I can have a nice little word mabe later. (The small reaper starts to walk off the screen but stops and runs back in a quick movement. He waves and then walks off screen as he does his face crackes a grin. The screen of the desk flashs and returns to normal.) Right. At least Teryn creates a fake identity to send his messages from. Oh, and...Spellcheck.

A few random notes...

Today, in my spam, the following picture: Now that I'm done laughing... Who would pose for that picture? Would you? You can't really see his face. What if you were clearly identifiable? Does it make a difference if you're male or female? Overheard at Curves: I don't see why they have to show us pictures of women in their underwear to sell us feminine products. What, do they think we believe we'll look like that if we wear them? The bathrooms are clean, hallelu. Now on to doing something else productive, or maybe just flopping down and playing video games.

Two random things:

Random thing #1: quotes from Treasure Planet. Incidentally, it was really a pretty good movie...

• Jim? I'm starting to see my life passing before my eyes. At least I think it's my life. WAS I EVER DANCING WITH AN ANDROID NAMED LUPE?"
• Captain Flint? In the flesh...well, devoid of skin or tendons or anything resembling flesh...
• Excuse me, brutish pirate? I have a question. Is it that your body is too massive for your teeny tiny head, or is your head too tiny for your big fat body?
• Silver, you gave up... It's a life-long obsession, kid. I'll get over it.

Random thing #2: A Matrix quiz. I am pleased with my results.
You are Morpheus, from "The Matrix." You
have strong faith in yourself and those around
you. A true leader, you are relentless in your
persuit.

What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla And now, instead of sitting around bare-ass naked until 2 PM today, I'm going to go take Treasure Planet back to Blockbuster and work out before doing something productive here at home. That way I don't feel quite like so much of a slacker.

I'm a little tea-pot...

Slept in today. Dreamed strange dreams. Like the one in which I screamed at James for tickling me, then proceeded to curl up on the parking lot to sleep while waiting for something - only to be awakened by him ejaculating all over me while he jerked off, apparently just to be a bitch. In that typical dream way, I was covered head to toe in the stuff, which is a bit unrealistic, not to mention that then his outrage when I told him I'd never go anywhere with him again was sort of un-Jameslike. "It was just a little jizz. What's wrong with you, can't you handle a little jizz?" Everyone else was laughing at me too. And the one where and I were going to a John Mayer concert, even though I've never actually listened to his music. And she had a giant black sign with "I love you Johnny!" on it in huge neon green letters, and the paint was dripping so that as we carried it, we were slowly getting covered in green and black paint. Or the one where BigScott was taking the Boards and I got to watch as they enclosed him in ice so he couldn't finish on time. No dreams about you this time, Lily, although you and Jefe were in the one about James...dressed in bondage gear and laughing at me with the rest. I went home and changed clothes before the movie (I think that's where we were going) started, but I didn't shower, so I had this giant translucent white cap over my head that kept dripping. And everyone around me reached out to catch the drips and eat them, like some kind of ice cream cone. That was the dream that convinced me I should get out of bed and stop dreaming. Now I'm going to go to Curves - there's one in Leo, it seems, as well as Pine Valley and East State. I'm going for the East State one. I just need to get my lazy ass working out.

Anyone have any suggestions for what I should do for dinner?

A foggy day...

Beginning to feel inspired regarding Doubly Dead. Now if tomorrow goes well, perhaps I'll write it. Part of my problem is, though, that I don't know where the story will go. I've never successfully planned a story in my life. The closest I've ever come to it is in the stories I dreamed. I just know that it wants to be written. Went to Raja tonight for dinner (thank you, M, for introducing us) and had yummy Indian food. I need to learn to make Naan. Then went to Video Stop to rent a movie. No luck. So we went to Blockbuster and picked up the original Ocean's 11. This movie, I assure you, suffers from an excess of character development. Mind, it's a classic, in true 60's style - which means that the first half of it was character development. And the second half was plot. And the other second half was plot twists. The denouement was longer than the buildup, and trying to make 12 different main characters memorable through long conversational scenes is...well, a bit overwhelming. However, it was good in its way. I like the new one better, except that hearing Sammy Davis, Jr. sing "E-O Eleven" was yummy. Wish I knew what it meant.. Am now feeling relaxed, if itchy for some odd reason. And I think it's time for bed soon.

To share a list...

The BBC published their list of 100 best books according to British readers. Boldface are the ones I've read. No commentary included this time. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll Animal Farm, George Orwell Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer The BFG, Roald Dahl Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks Black Beauty, Anna Sewell Bleak House, Charles Dickens Brave New World, Aldous Huxley Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres Catch 22, Joseph Heller The Catcher In The Rye, JD Salinger Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky David Copperfield, Charles Dickens Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson Dune, Frank Herbert Emma, Jane Austen Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy The Godfather, Mario Puzo Gone With The Wind, Margaret Mitchell Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck Great Expectations, Charles Dickens The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, JK Rowling Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, Douglas Adams The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien Holes, Louis Sachar I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer Katherine, Anya Seton The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe, CS Lewis Little Women, Louisa May Alcott Lord Of The Flies, William Golding The Lord Of The Rings, JRR Tolkien Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton Magician, Raymond E Feist The Magus, John Fowles Matilda, Roald Dahl Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden Middlemarch, George Eliot Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie Mort, Terry Pratchett Night Watch, Terry Pratchett Nineteen-Eighty-Four, George Orwell Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck On The Road, Jack Kerouac One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez Perfume, Patrick Süskind Persuasion, Jane Austen The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving Pride And Prejudice, Jane Austen The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell Rebecca, Daphne Du Maurier The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett The Secret History, Donna Tartt The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher The Stand, Stephen King The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens Tess Of The D'urbervilles, Thomas Hardy The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough To Kill A Mockingbird, Harper Lee A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson The Twits, Roald Dahl Ulysses, James Joyce Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson War And Peace, Leo Tolstoy Watership Down, Richard Adams The Wind In The Willows, Kenneth Grahame Winnie-the-Pooh, AA Milne The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë There are several more I've read excerpts from or started and decided I just couldn't stand the style. Dickens comes to mind. But not so bad - and my to-read list has some of these on it as well.

Credo in unum deum.

Thanks to all for all the good thoughts this morning. Arrived 0810, after wandering around the student centre, forgetting that it wasn't Kettler. Welcome staff were friendly and smiling. It was as good a welcome as I could have expected. Had trouble with the dry-erase markers; I went through at least 6. 1200: Broke for lunch after 4 sections. 1530: Finished exam and exited. It was rough, no denying that. There were 2 moderately easy blocks, 2 extremely tough blocks, and 3 blocks in the middle. It jumped around, so the second-to-last block was the second-easiest; the last was hard. Quotient of Things I'd Never Seen: low. Quotient of "oh, shit, I don't remember that": moderate. Best estimate: I would say probably better than half of the questions, I knew the answer to with an 80-95% certainty. Of the remainder, I can anticipate getting half of them right if I was guessing at all accurately. That would pass me. That would be really nice. I'll tell you all as soon as I know. But it's over with; I'm done. IUSM has a 95% pass rate. Our centre has almos 100%. I should be fine. No more worries, no more studying. Although Barth did mention that my doc I'll be working with did a fellowship in diabetes, so I should probably brush up on it. Hmm.

Dear God:

I've studied. I've tried. I've finally, with a lot of work and a lot of prayer, got this concentration thing down. Tomorrow is the exam that determines the direction of my life. I have to pass it to continue in school, to keep my scholarships from defaulting, to be allowed to work in the position I so desperately want. I just have to pass. I've studied, I have. I've tried. All I need now is a little bit of help. Help me to remember the things I've worked so hard at learning. Help me not to lose my cool. Help me to dredge from the forgotten corners of my mind the facts that have enabled me to pass everything thus far. And dear God...help me to make it through. 8:30 AM. IPFW, Kettler Hall. Confirmed. Bag packed. Notecards, review books in the bag for lunchtime scanning.

AMDG: Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam, for the greater glory of God.

Roleplaying!

Your Ultimate Roleplaying Purity Score
Category	Your Score	Average
Hacklust	42.45% Will kill for XP	52.3%
Sensitive Roleplaying	29.11% All the game's your stage	50%
GM Experience	42.03% Puts the players through the wringer	66.3%
Systems Knowledge	91.1% Played in a couple of campaigns	88.7%
Livin' La Vida Dorka	55.17% Has interesting conversations in public	59.4%
You are 55.82% pure Average Score: 66.1%
Take The Ultimate Roleplaying Purity Test and see how you match up!

Now...now back to my books. Tomorrow's the day.