August 14th, 2003

running, bomb tech

Evening

So after marxdarx got home, I headed out to the library, to return books and get new ones, and also see about getting some bras. Books were gotten. I found some Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter (currently on Circus of the Damned; I've been skipping around in the series), and... in the $0.25 discard paperback section... The Mark of Conte. Migods. One of my old favorites from freshman year high school!! Squee!

The general idea is, Conte Mark is enrolled at the new high school, which has been newly computerized. Somehow, he is enrolled twice: as Conte Mark, and Mark Conte. He gives up fighting the system by its rules, and starts playing by his. Things eventually come to a well-hacked head. I enjoyed it approximately as much as I did Son of Interflux, Don't Care High, and Semester in the Life of a Garbage Bag, which are similar in spirit.

I found myself in the store with the anime. Darkside Blues was still there, as were the discs of X. I struck up a conversation with the girl restocking the racks; I described Darkside Blues (accurately, I think) as making altogether less sense than Lain.

It's nice when two people speak the same language.

After that, buying nothing (but agonizing over X: two) I headed to Lane Bryant in search of measurements and a shload of bras in my own size. Much to my dismay, the measurements came out saying that I am in fact 48E, which they do not carry -- try Catherine's -- but oh, they might be closed. (Great.)

So, after cracking a few more jokes with the chick ("Boobalanche" as a technical term came up, and caused the cute chick to giggle) I wandered out, where I met the rainstorm.

There were teenagers waiting for the bus too: a girl, at least two guys. One of the guys was teasing her, and she was teasing him, and it was all so very angstfully hormone-ridden. I stood in the rain and made smart comments back at the guy.

On the bus, there was this fabulous guy (originally from California) who made witty conversation. Evidently I still have my Alaskan pallor, despite being here nearly three years.

votania eventually arrived home, after misadventures with the streets. Evidently she's one of those people without my innate sense of direction; she could lose her way coming out of a paper bag if she hadn't a compass on her. Joy.

But we're all home safe, and now snug in bed.
running, bomb tech

Heh. It's still the wrong title.

I guess I need to look at that song more closely. Really, it's got to be "The Necromancer's Prayer", because that's what it tells the story of. Though it's not going to be a very finished story.
running, bomb tech

Note to Cat

Dear Raver-girl,

As fascinating as you find the actions of that little dot on my monitor, you're going to have to stop jumping up to investigate. I see you find the process of typing similarly fascinating, and I would so get a photo of the way you're craning that pretty short neck of yours if my webcam were set up and I were not naked.

Love,
azurelunatic
documentation, writing, quill

Why So Silent, Good Lunatic?

I moved my computer, you see -- and now my typing position is a little funky, thus making it more difficult for me to keep up my usual manic posting habits.

Plus, today's University Day, so I have the whole day off. And I've been picking up Little Fayoumis from school. And it's been ungodsly hot. I need to make my own iteration of LJ that will have more currents than just mood and music -- I need moon phase, weather, incense, book, and probably a few more.

That, and new library books. Why read online when I could curl up with a book?
  • Current Music
    the a/c behaving itself, Laurell K. Hamilton Circus of the Damned
running, bomb tech

Purple lepoard-print underwear...

"...I had the opportunity to have someone send you some anonymously, but I figured you'd know I'd done it, and never forgive me. ... Somehow I didn't think that's your style."
"No. ... In other words, I wouldn't be caught dead in them."

So my call was right, manifestress. ...Even though he would have looked killer in them.
running, bomb tech

Language

Today the Little Fayoumis and I were happily eating supper together (something very messy involving chicken, onions, and bell peppers in a tortilla) and we were making smart comments at the supper.

"Smell my pee-pee!" quoth the little angel.

We digressed into a discussion (heavy on the talking for me, heavy on the listening for him) about how this was not an appropriate phrase. Evidently it comes from Eli.

Oh, joy.
running, bomb tech

Ahh, storm.

votania got off work early, and so was home before sunset. She and Marx elected to go swimming before the storm hit.

After supper, I went swimming. I did a few laps, and noted how tired my arms were.

I always feel so much at home in the water. No wonder it was my element of choice for a time.

Came back in, and surfed around and purchased both Darkside Blues and X: Two from http://www.bn.com, as they were indeed priced as hlynna advertised. Free shipping!! Whee!

Commented to wiseheron that she should go ahead and call, then shut down the computers, as the lightning was getting lightningy. Spent an enjoyable hour and 40 minutes taking advantage of her unlimited long distance and gossiping/psychgeeking. Much fun. Though it will be a little amusing to straighten out whether the woman on the end of the phone is Rhi or Ro, as they sound (to my ear) very similar. The voices, that is.

After that, brushed my hair and completely got rid of the tangles, then put a bead-braid in and gave myself a facial. Yay, me. Used a green clay and witch hazel mask, for those interested, and then followed up with nice hot wet washclothes. Mmm.

wiseheron and olliesmama might get on, if they're not already friends.

Apology is good for the soul. I've felt lousy over a certain ill-tempered outburst in a paper journal for quite some time. I'd been spending a happy and quiet morning with Darkside, and I'd been nerving myself up to say something about something to him, and then Bald Guy came in and perkily monopolized the conversation, dragging Darkside's attention away from me (where it belonged) and into the game with Bald Guy. Instant anger on my part happened, and I passive-aggressively wrote words of furious cruelty in my journal -- words that Darkside saw, words that cut him. How deep I didn't realize, until I heard those same words from him self-depreciatingly some days later...

He knows, now, why I wrote those words, and while that may not ever erase the sting, at least he'll know why I said it, why I wanted to make him feel how badly it hurt.
running, bomb tech

Clue bats for sale...

azurelunatic (10:32:47 AM): I'm lecturing a Clueless Gayboi on science. Gods help me...
wibbble (10:33:22 AM): *grins* Does the 'Gayboi' part affect his cluelessness, or the science? *considers 'homosexual science'...*
azurelunatic (10:33:47 AM): Um...
azurelunatic (10:34:03 AM): ...the 'gayboi' gives flavor to his cluelessness.
wibbble (10:34:09 AM): Aaah.
azurelunatic (10:34:50 AM): So instead of bland vanilla cluelessness, it's done up in tasteful decorator pastels, with exclamation points.
wibbble (10:34:58 AM): Ahh.
wibbble (10:35:00 AM): Eww.