It's probably a bad thing that I'm starting to fret about losing my IG marriage prospect. Just a thought.

Don't ask me why; this just kind of popped into my head this morning.

1. Grow your hair long. If it is not brown, dye it to that color. If it is not naturally frizzy/wavy, crimp it on a daily basis.
2. Develop obsessions with shiny things, fire, cookies and things that jingle.
3. Learn how to make certain foods, such as pierogies and spicy chicken and stars, and enjoy them. You will eat them whenever you get the chance.
4. Develop a vindictive streak. This is especially important in step five.
5. Work on your coping mechanisms. When faced with emotional trauma, you will take it one of three ways; either constantly crack jokes about it (often jokes that are in bad taste), want to know as much about it as you possibly can, or completely shut down except for crying jags and the vindictive streak mentioned in step four.
6. Have intense emotions, but make sure the louder emotions don't last for too long. You will never have a grudge against someone if you're yelling at them.
7. The words "elf-fucker" and "twatwaffle" are inherently funny and should be used whenever possible. Other nonsensical insults such as "assgoblin", "chickentits", "asshat" and "bullfuck" may be used where appropriate.
8. Brush up your Shakespeare. Also, brush up on your history, drama, Latin, Spanish and English in general. This last one is important; you will need to be the grammar nazi to end all grammar nazis.
9. Develop short, intense obsessions with certain things, then get bored of them and move on. This will not only entertain you for short periods of time, but will increase your intelligence as you will pick up a lot of trivial knowledge along the way.
10. If there is a pretty boy, you must chase him. No questions asked.

I'm feeling rather colorless right now. But not the bad kind of colorless, like that watery, miserably gray. This is a rather crystalline sort of colorless, like a block of pure quartz with a slight cloudiness and little rainbows trapped in the middle.

It could have something to do with it being three in the morning.

It might have to do with the weirdass turn my friendship with Nim has taken.

Maybe it's related to the fact that the Russian is suddenly paying more attention to me than my own teacher/older brother.

Whatever it is, it's not entirely unpleasant.

-I love my pet sophomore. She is adorably clever.

-I love my pet freshman. She is adorable in general.

-I got my wish with Hamish's message on the KR forums. A little more awkward than I would have liked, but it happens.

-There are 44 days 'til Moresca.

-I am not fond of my group for the TOK project.

-Apparently, I can now get away with wearing garb shirts to school. I rock.

-My bird is screaming, and I wish he would stop.

-As of yet, I have no prospects for Homecoming dates.

-Phaedra needs to get World Affairs up and running.

-I have a homework headache.

-Life is slightly less grey.

Feeling somewhat lost and helpless right now.

I know it's my fault the relationship got broken off in the first place. Me and my lack of control, mixed with his jealousy, well...it wasn't really the greatest match.

I'm still not particularly happy about it. I'm free for the moment, yes, but at the price of one of my few points of stability. And it seems to be an unwritten rule of society that the bitch in the relationship deserves no comfort; that her lot will forever be suffering.

Sebastian would shit bricks if he read this, I know. I can see his little "I told you so" dance right now.

I'm off to try and drown my sorrows in my courseload.

BADON BADON BADON.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangst.

More on this development later.

-Mike's cooking
-My possible marriage to Hamish McSweeney (IG, obviously, and the courtship doesn't start until Moresca. It's going to be a long month and a half)
-Rublis
-Lenin's letters to Inessa Armand
-Chocolate
-A Clockwork Orange
-Firefly
-Lemon juice
-Gogol Bordello
-My pet Londwynian
-The McBane clan
-Badon Hill in three days

I'm not entirely sure of how to word this...

Is it bad that when I see cutesy FaceBook statuses, filled with lyrics about waves crashing or the wind in someone's hair, I have the sudden urge to smash someone's head into the ground?

I've been wanting to knock sense into this one person for a while. They seem to believe that all of life is set to a John Mayer song, that everyone can and will be won over by the word "love". That life is nothing but a dance through a patch of de-thorned roses. That all the bills can be paid with poetry and cake.

They surround themselves with people who believe the same thing, and who would act shocked and horrified if I ever tried to execute such a plan.

After all, cynicism is not welcome in this little group of star-eyed optimists!

That might shatter their precious illusions that a loft in a low-rent area will not, in fact, catch you a prince charming.

But are these illusions a part of life? Could they happen? Am I just being pessimistic in the extreme?

Or is my bleak view of life the better focus? After all, Colin Mochrie--yes, that Colin Mochrie, and yes, I know I might be undermining my point somewhat--once said:
 "I am such a pessimist that every project has surpassed what I envisioned."

Why be disappointed by your outcome when you could be pleasantly surprised by the truth?

Nim, Nathan, if either of you have any opinions on this, I'd love to hear them.

Dear Amelia,

When I am trying to defend our political beliefs and the situation is diffused, please do not state that "maybe [you] do" think that racism is necessary for capitalism.

I kind of agree, but really, how did that help us in any way?

Some love,
Me

I have an irrational hatred of those times when people call you just to get someone else's phone number.

Seriously.

You're bored, lonely, and need someone to talk to. You get a phone call and get all excited, thinking you're saved.

Then, oops!

They want to talk to someone else.

Not you.

Rrrrrrrgh.

Thus ends the angst-riddled saga of Jacie and Kipp, with a bittersweet kiss on the platform as the train pulls in.

But with the end of this story begins the tale of Jacie and Nathan.

Here's hoping this'll mark the end of my string of stormy relationships.

And on a completely unrelated note, I'm a gobbo now.

Yesterday: Was able to talk coherently about Nietzsche's "true world" in ToK. Knew the higher level theories of pragmatism. Impressed Mr. Dean.

Today: Was the only student in English class who knew anything about Strunk and White's Elements of Style, to say nothing about being the sole owner of a copy. Fished it out of my locker and explained it for the Student Teacher. Was made Castellan of our group, then discovered we were investigating syntax. Impressed both Ms. Mayforth and Ms. Howton.

Life is good.

Recent visitors to my journal have taken notice of the "eyesores" that litter its pages, filling precious bandwidth with multicolored badfic. While I don't mind the chance to introduce others to the wonders of sporking, it does get annoying when I have to re-explain it to several different people.

To prevent this, then, I am compiling an entry on reading, writing and enjoying sporks.

...am I someone's muse?

'cause that would be really awesome and flattering.

Already Known: NOD and Varangia have a connection. Possibly less than a friendly connection, but we do look forward to seeing each other at events.

New Information: If one searches Google with one of the following terms, my LiveJournal shows up on the first page.

Varangia: 9th place
Kedric Varangia: 4th place
Drinian Varangia: 1st place (thanks to my last entry)
Post-Thanksgiving Varangia: 3rd place
Vargotta: 3rd place
Varangia Althyng: 9th place

Hyperfocusing much, self?

My cold meds must be affecting me more than usual,  'cause I seriously just considered asking Peter to come to the Yule Ball with me on Saturday.

What. The. Fuck.

Next thing you know, I'll be wandering down some country lane in my bathrobe and a cardboard crown and calling myself the Duchess of York.

Imma go to sleep now before I begin entertaining other weird notions.

...I'll be living vicariously through my darling Jen for the next couple of weeks.

It's because I'm the goddamn Batman.

Rather, the goddamn Yenta.

Hoorah for matchmaking!

No one can be a gamer without a suitably dirty mind, you know. These are some of my favorites, from many different sources. Subject to change.


( Silk rope is twice the price, but half the encumbrance. ) 

Not any just any monster, though.

A Kiramonster.

It would seem that I have a bright, if slightly unwilling, protege. Never minding the fact that she writes prose so purple it could be used to dye Augustus's robes, I am impressed by the general quality of her writing.

Case in point: The following story, a Dagorhir drabble.


Clever child, rehashing a story I didn't even know I had told her.

Althyng in eleven days.

Perhaps it's just the smell of rain in the air, or the fact that the April battle is tomorrow, but I'm antsy. Incredibly antsy.

I feel like I should be doing something right now. Dancing in the storm, perhaps, or archery practice. But I'm hoping to stave off the storm for as long as possible,  and Morgrim and Renegade made off with my bow and arrows this morning.

And strangely, that incident has put me in a really good mood. Perhaps it's something to do with the want of dancing.

Never has a Saturday felt like such a pointless stumbling-block.

You misconstrue any of that, I'll freakin' kill you. 

"I'm a bear, etcetera."
-Mike Birbiglia