Embryo of Philosophy

First of all, what the fuck, Colorado weather? I've gotten used to the seventy degree January days, and I've realized that it's never more wintry than in late April, but it's nearly June, so these grey, wet days have to stop. Or at least don't go changing it so much. Google weather said it would be seventy one degrees today, so I dressed for that. When I got on the first bus, it was warm. When I got off, it was chilly and windy. I was not alerted to this possibility! It was still chilly when I got on the second bus, but by the time I got off, it was warm again. Oh, Colorado, I will never understand you.

I had a doctor's appointment today, to check on my boobs. It was somewhat of a trek, just because walking still hurts a bit.

On the bus I encountered a wacky conservative Christian whom I had debated last semester at CU. He was quite eager to talk to me. I was trying to write, so I didn't really want to talk to anyone, but especially not a fundamentalist Christian. He was pleasant and polite, certainly. I have no doubt that many fundamentalist Christians are overall quite good-natured, with concern for others. However, this man, however nice he was, thinks that I'm going to hell. He believes that I face endless agonizing torment after death because I like to kiss girls, and because I pray to a goddess and the wrong god. Not only will I suffer unceasingly for eternity, but quite deservedly so. It's hard for me to think of someone who believes that as a truly good person.

However, he spoke about a talk he was going to give at his church about various literary genres in the Bible (didactic, poetic, apocalyptic, etc.), which sounded genuinely fascinating. (I'm a religious studies minor for a reason.) Of course, he's probably one of the people who thinks that the vast number of different genres and literary styles in the Bible prove that it was written by God, rather than offering evidence that it was written by a great number of people over a very long time. But what are you going to do?

Also, I saw a road sign on the way to the doctor's office that gave me pause. It was next to a creek and said "Ice may exist." And, yes, all right, I know what it meant, but it sounds quite existential to me. "Ice may exist. But perhaps it's simply our subjective perceptions telling us that the ice exists. Who can say?"

...Well, I was at least amused.

I did finally make it to the doctor. I'm healing nicely, and she removed most of the steri strips. And now I can shower! Seriously, bathing became a serious chore when I couldn't get my chest wet.

Before, when my breasts were still numb, I expressed concern that it might be the first stage of horrible zombie disease, and that I had zombie tits. My fears were allayed today. No, instead, I have frankenboobs! (I just can't decide if that should be capitalized or not.) They had to cut off my nipples then reattach them, so it's quite gross looking. (That, uh, might have been more than you wanted to know.) But it's only eight days after surgery, so I'm not worried. Plus, the doctor told me that I'm still quite swelled up, and that my breasts should get even smaller. I'm so excited!

Just like I'm oh so certain that you care about the state of my breasts, so I assume that you care about how my writing is going. I've finished one of my springkink stories, and started the other one. These stories are the reason that I've been researching Victorian carriages and trains. Don't laugh, I find it interesting. And my remixthedrabble entry is in beta.

All in all, my life is going well. This scares me. Surely something must go horrible wrong soon. Well, I'm starting my summer class on Monday. That will probably count.

"Oh, Jesus, defend us from death and horrible maiming..."

- Le Morte Darthur by Sir Thomas Malory, edited by R.M. Lumiansky.

It's the "horrible maiming" part that really does it for me. I want to start shouting this at random intervals.

And, yes, I should be studying for my Spanish Final, but given the choice between studying Spanish, and a hot bath and Arthurian legend, what would you choose?

Also, I am now veleda_k over at dreamwidth. Friend me if you want. I don't have a paid account, but it's probably just a matter of time. I can never resist icon space.

First, I thought "But why?" Then I thought "Well, why not?"

You know, I was thinking about how neat it would be to have a mini Groundhog Day scenario, in which I got a day where nothing counted. I could do whatever I wanted, then when I woke up the next morning no one would remember, and I would relive the day again.

Then I realized that I would probably just spend the day goofing off on the internet. Sad but true.

I'm finally making progress on the Merlin/Morgana fic that I've been trying to write. It's amazing how much easier it is to write a story once you realize what it wants to be. I thought it was supposed to be sparse and minimalist, no more than a double drabble. Turns out that the scene I was picturing wanted to be more than two hundred words, and it wanted to be just one scene in a longer fic. The more you know!

I have been having some very strange dreams. There was the one where I was vaguely disconcerted by the possible expired tofurky in my fridge. (Maybe it was planning something, I don't know.) Then there was the one I had last night. I was living in a condo right across from a Boulder restaurant called The Sink. My mother came over to visit and was really angry when she saw what a mess it was, because as it turns out, it was the condo I'm living in now that belongs to her husband. I could be forgiven for not knowing this, since it looked completely different and was a completely different location. Anyway, I ended up having a nervous breakdown in a bathtub (which for some reason was in the kitchen) in which I began to believe that all the characters that I write fanfic about were actually real. Then my mother came in and was all, "Do you really have to have a nervous breakdown now?" so I tried to stop... and then I woke up. I believe that dream to be a mix of a desire for hamburgers, writing fanfic late at night, and recently cleaning the bathtub.

I'd tell you about the dream I had while I was napping earlier this evening, but any dream after which one wakes up and thinks, "But why was the bestiality there?" is probably not a dream which should be shared with the public.

I am currently amusing myself with McSweeney's Lists. I particularly like Footnotes, Endnotes, and Parentheticals That Cost Me Marks on My Thesis, Less Popular Alternatives to First-Person Shooters, The Lesser-Known Slogans of Political Moderates, James Bond Films for the George W. Bush Era, and Rarely Used Parenthetical Statements. Also, for b_hallward, Classes My Top-Tier Law School Should Have Offered as Warnings About the Profession.

La, la, la, I think that I'm done.

EDIT: Also, Things That Will Destroy My Heterosexual Marriage Long Before Gay Marriage Ever Will. Rabid dogs with chainsaws for tails: Indeed a serious threat to marriage.

I have very amusing dreams, which I would love to tell you about, if only I could remember them. They're easy to recall in the first few moments after waking, but they fade in a way that can only be likened to dew, evaporating in the morning sun.

But even more vexing is when I get an idea for a story while lying in bed, or in the hazy mists between sleeping and waking. However, now I only have bits and pieces flitting through my mind. General ideas, snatches of conversation; but I don't know who's saying what or why.

Reading the above two paragraphs, I worry about the fact that I don't even have to work to reach this level of pretension. It just comes naturally.

Taken from liannanshith

Which creature of the night are you? Your Result: Cthulu Spawn   You are really an alien thing, aren't you? I can't describe you because you are beyond. We say "left field" and you say "Krn Grth Thchrang." You are the wild card of the bunch, the unknown quantity
Ghost
Sorceror
Incubus/Succubus
Demon
Vampire
Werewolf
Which creature of the night are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Mwahahahahaha! Fear my dread existence!

One of my dollar bills had writing on it. It said, "Protect our borders." I, for one, agree completely. We are not policing our border with nearly enough rigour. The main problem, I think, is that we're not paying attention to the correct border. I don't trust those Canadian fuckers. They pretend to be all friendly, but I'm sure that they're planning a takeover. Then they'll come down and impose their way of life on us. Health care for everyone! Politeness! Not taking Focus on the Family's crap!

...On second thought, I for one welcome our new Canadian overlords.


In other new, I just a second ago, uh, dumped water all over my keyboard. Way to go, Veleda.

I just received my Yuletide assignment, and I'm beginning to see the downside of this anonymity thing. See, I'm panicking. And I want to tell you why I'm panicking, so you can panic with me, or reassure me, or just tell me to shut the fuck up. But I can't.

Also, why do "panicked" and "panicking" have "K"s while "panic" doesn't? Seriously, what's with that?

Today was all right, except for the fact that I'm hacking my lungs out. I had to leave my Women in Islam class because I couldn't stop coughing. Loudly. I hate being sick.

Dear dancing_serpent,

I’m afraid our romance is over. I think I realized it when we skinny dipped outside of Chicago and I saw you insult my father. I’m sure you’re frostbitten enough to understand that I did a sex-change. I’m returning your ring to you, but I’ll keep your left ear as a memory. You should also know that I never liked eggplant-fetishism.

Go and drown yourself,

Veleda


( How to write your own letter of confession )

With work, school, and other stuff, I don't really have time to update. But, in the interest of giving you an idea of what I'm currently up to, I''l list my last three google searches.

1. British nobility ranking
2. Spore Creature
3. Cyanide antidote.

Anyway, as you can see, I've got stuff to do.

Seven Things Meme

A. List seven habits/quirks/facts about yourself.
B. Tag seven people to do the same.
C. Do not tag the person who tagged you or say that you tag "whoever wants to do it."

I was tagged by hulamoth.

( Read more... )

I really don't like tagging people, so I'm not going to, no matter what the meme says.

Because skinship is doing it, and it looks fun, I have dragon eggs. Click on them!




Ugh, I was so very depressed a little while a go. It was the kind of depression that just makes you want to go to bed and never get up. I couldn't think of anything that would cheer me up. but, lacking other ideas, I did the one thing that has been known to work: I went out and spent money until I felt better. I should feel bad for spending so much money these days, but as long as it's not going to make me go broke, losing a little cash is worth it if it banishes thoughts of stabbing myself. I still feel depressed, but it's not crippling anymore