commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
How did I spend my afternoon? Oh, Google!stalking my old orchestra teacher and rocking back and forth on the couch over how much I miss having a reason to wake up in the morning.

LOL, nothing to see here, just a rerun of 'Alexandria Still Has A Giant Hero-Worship Crush On Someone Who Probably Has Forgotten Her Name' . )
commotiocordis: (Telegram)
Dream where there was some big, apocalyptic crisis going on and I am totally gay for River Song.

Olivia Wilde and Benedict Cumberbatch had to pretend (for god knows what reason) to be my parents to get us out of some sticky situation and that wasn't fair because EPIC SEXUAL FRUSTRATION. Unconscious brain was then just like "oh, that's true; here, have another awesome person for yourself". So I meet up with River Song (who was the fourth part of my Saving The World Team -- I think I might have sort of been The Doctor, because Olivia was Amy and Benedict was Rory, for sure), and there's like this instant sparky thing of attraction/recognition, because we've worked together in the past, but there was some kind of amnesia thing around that mission, so it's all fuzzy.

So then River and I were running around trying to get where we needed to go to escape it and then fix things. While holding hands and sort of flirting a lot. We were running across/out of what looked like an old military fort (I think Fort de Chartres, actually, though I've only been there once when I was 12, so I could be making that up), and just as we got out the front and were going toward the street, I turned to her and was like "do you remember the last time we did this?" (meaning run all escapy from somewhere while holding hands) and she didn't, because of that amnesia thing in that ~mission, but she was like "I wondered why this felt so right." LOLOLOLOL, PMSing Alexandria's brain is soppily romantic.

There were these cars we had to get to to take us to our next location that were sort of arriving on a cycle like a shuttle, and at one point we were walking with a bunch of people to get there, including Melissa, one of my friends from elementary/middle/high school who's really conservative (but super nice). River and I sort of fell back a step so we could hold hands again, and she turned around and looked, and I was kind of worried what she would think for a minute, but then was like "Pshh, but I am le happy, so who cares." And then Melissa sort of half-smiled and then faced front again and it was nice. COOL STORY BRO.

And then it got much less impressive because the fact that I had to pee IRL bled into the dream, so I was trying to find a bathroom but there was this like, idk, Diva Cup seminar going on in front of the bathroom in the craft store building I ducked into, and they were like "I know why you're here; have one!" and I was like "I already do, but thanks," and ended up answering some of the gathered women's questions about it first, and then I woke up because I did really have to pee. EVEN COOLER OF A STORY, BRO.

    Unanswered questions:
  • Why do I never get to have sex in my EPIC SEXUAL FRUSTRATION DREAMS.





  • Why.

commotiocordis: (Jack/Ianto)
Some thoughts on gender. Also sex. So, umm, vaguely graphic things you probably don't want to know about me? ETA: This got SUPER tl;dr, so you can treat the bolded bits like a summary and just read those, if you're interested.



Over the past couple of years, I've begun to sort of question my gender identification, but I always end up feeling . . . idk, inadequate. I have long hair and I wear skirts literally all the time, I must be like the femalest female who ever femaled, right? When I go bra shopping, I look for things that push them up rather than push them down. I can tick absolutely zero of the standard outward-appearance indicator boxes for other-than-cis-genderism.

But I was looking through an old notebook a few months (maybe a year?) back, and something in there triggered a memory of being very young (7-8 ish) and in the shower and sort of daydreaming that I was pregnant because I was both male and female, and had managed to inseminate myself internally. (Weird, I know.) And that was a running thing, the feeling that I was both male and female. I mean, I knew it was biologically impossible, but that ~fantasy stuck with me for years.

Beyond that, you had your standard tomboy stuff -- I spent every day at the gifted program in elementary school playing kickball with the boys during recess; I remember one of my friends moving back in with her aunt for the summer across the street from my house and saying "Okay, let's start on your tomboy-ification" because she'd spent the year getting her hair brushed and wearing fancy clothes and I wanted a friend to climb trees with; I thought makeup was a fun toy back in third and fourth grade, but in middle school when girls started wearing it to actually wear it, I wasn't interested (save a bit of the black eyeliner goth stuff for a while, but even that got given up on all but special occasions). Those by itself, obviously, indicate nothing about a person's gender identity, but I feel like it's sort of a record of my never feeling female. On the other hand, I never felt male either. I never pressured my mom to let me buzz my hair, or pitched any more fits than the usual kid being forced into a dress for Easter church; I even chose to go by Alexandria instead of Alex in middle school (though that was more because I wanted to be unique than anything else).

As I got older, I spent late middle and most of high school pretty sure I was a lesbian, but I think that's because I wasn't interested in penetrative, penis-in-my-vagina sex, and thought that automatically, logically meant I was a lesbian. It was also a role to play, an identity that I could have -- I still call myself a homo all the time, even though it's not 100% accurate, just because I want to claim that experience, to be a part of that identity that as an other-than-mainstream-branch queer I sometimes feel I'm pushed to the side of. (That gets into a whole other long thing that there have been plenty of diatribes about by people much less tired than I am, so have some keywords like biphobia and erasure and Google it yourself.)

But still, I remember somewhere in earlyish high school (I was probably 15 or 16) watching an Oprah about women with huge clitorises with my Dad omg it was awkward at the time, and it being mentioned that they were pretty much just like little penises, and wondering aloud why that would be a bad thing. He said it was probably just image, or being worried the people they're with will think they're not female, but I didn't really get it. You still have all the female bits, you don't have to deal with the stigma of outwardly presenting as other-than-cis-gendered, and you get a mini penis that could be used (as one of the women's anecdotes related) for penetration; what's not to like?

Late high school/early college, I started to wake up to my boy attraction (thank you, David Tennant), but realized that I still wasn't interested in PIV sex. I get sex dreams pretty much never (maybe two or three a year, idk) but the few times I did, it was always oral/handjob, frot, or me as the penetrative partner (with a strong slant toward the latter two). Okay, dreams, I figured, we'll see if there's anything to this. It's very rare that I would fantasize as myself with someone else (I always masturbated to fanfiction without putting myself in either player's place really, *shrugs*), but I sort of tried it a bit, and holy shit does imagining fucking Olivia Wilde with my invisible dick get me off. Imagining jerking off said invisible dick is also surprisingly helpful. Frot (with both males and females) is pretty much Number One and has turned into my hugest fic kink ever. So, um, okay then. Apparently, my subconscious had a point, and I kind of want a dick.


But I don't want to be male. Not particularly. Not consistently. I've expressed a desire to be male when doing things like going to the Adam Lambert concerts, because I wish that things like painting my nails and putting on tons of makeup and glitter were expressed to other people as the alternative gender performance that they really are for me, rather than it just being something that girls are expected to do. I'd get a hysterectomy simply because I have such severe premenstrual dysphoric disorder and it's the cause of much misery and suicidal ideation, but I don't think I'd ever get top surgery because my breasts don't really bother me. I'd love to magically have a penis, not gonna lie, but I don't know if I could stomach ever doing something so drastically radical and unchangeable to my body, and definitely not at the sorry state of technology that bottom surgery is now (for those who haven't spent ages looking this up and thinking about it -- probably another sign that I wasn't just investigating for Roommate and Scientific Curiosity -- a huge huge percentage of FTMs don't get it because it's like $200,000, and even then comes with severe risk of losing sensation and has only mechanically-assisted function and isn't even always able to pass, like most good MTF bottom surgery is).

Speaking of Roommate, I spent quite a while not talking about this (or even really thinking about it) because I was sort of worried that maybe I was just feeling this way because she had been exploring her FTM-ness and I just wanted to . . . be special like her? But now that I'm thinking about it, it goes back so far that I think it just took Rachel to make me realize that maybe this was a thing and not just that my body issues were just standard low level eating disorder and the fantasizing about having a penis thing was a minor and probably-should-be-suppressed-if-you-ever-want-a-working-relationship quirk. Would I ever have expressed it anywhere but my own fantasies if she hadn't been around? Doubtful. But I don't think that makes it any less real, I guess?



I think there's a lot of weight to be put on my attraction map. (I'm not sure if that's a thing, but that's how I've been thinking about it for some time now.) Somewhere along the line, my concept of beauty got set with a skew sort of towards the feminine, as this ideal with a feminine face and (generally) androgynous body, and that's more or less my ideal image for myself. One of them, I guess. I'm attracted to people who are more or less that andro-chic look, but I also find a strong aesthetic appreciation for people with more feminine bodies (i.e. curves), and therefore sometimes I'm okay with looking like that, too. Sometimes. The ~feminine me still doesn't like to do her makeup and hair every day, or make a sandwich for her boyfriend because she's supposed to, or stay home and watch the kids, and is definitely still more of the power female, but she's more okay with her curves even to the point of sometimes feeling sexy in a clingy dress or something. It's like I'm bigendered, with the two sides being genderqueer and female. Which is super weird.

I know that most of my gender performance is because it's just easier. The constant skirts is a body image thing, because I have, um, probably some kind of serious body dysmorphic disorder when it comes to my thighs and have a hard time handling looking at them, so it's easier to just wear skirts. The hair is vanity, given, but it fits in with my sort of feminine facial ideal. I'm not sure if I'd rather be flat chested or curvy (the andro or the feminine), but I've got tits. (Pretty easily bindable ones, much to Roommate's consternation, but all the same.) And so I work what I've got; I buy the push-up bras, because I at least want what I have to be perfect. (Hallo, perfectionism/control issues/the root of much misery.)

It tends to mean I attract "the wrong kind of person" for me; I think, because of the typology of people I'm attracted to and my slash hobbies and all of this stuff, etc. etc., if I ever were interested in a relationship, even with a man, it would probably have to be someone out of the queer community. I'm read pretty much as straight, or on very rare occasions, hit on by more butch girls, when I want to be the sort of dominant one or at least equal in a relationship (not that relationships require any kind of dom/sub -- and I do not mean this in the BDSM way, but just in general dynamics; the leader and the follower -- or male/female traditional binary roles, but often they sort of happen, even in friendships sometimes, I find). I'm the toppiest top who ever hasn't actually sexually topped, as we say. Which is why I think I'm not hit on by gay girls more often; idk, maybe I put off dominance vibes, so no one comes to me, but then I don't go out and go after anyone? I mean, I'm not interested in a relationship, really, which is why I have no particular drive to change anything about how I present, but it doesn't mean I'm not super jealous when Roommate gets hit on all. the. time. by lesbians and nobody ever looks twice at me.

I'm not sure if I'm attracted to males (almost exclusively gay males in real life, or celebs with more feminine features/presentation) more often when I'm feeling genderqueer/andro and females more often when I'm feeling feminine, or if it's the other way around. I think genderqueer me is attracted to both/pan, and feminine me is more attracted to the women side of the spectrum, maybe? I notice periods of time when I'm much more likely to look pretty much exclusively at women and periods when I look at both or more men (but I don't think ever exclusively), with androgynous types being somewhere in the middle of both, but I'm not sure if that correlates to periods of feeling one way or the other. (I also couldn't tell you how often I feel one way or the other, because it's not really a line that I jump across or anything.) I know I've never had a sexual dream/fantasy where I was explicitly female with a man (a lot of the time, I'm sort of . . . non-gender specific?), but I've been female-bodied in lesbian dreams.

And when I say attracted, I really just mean aesthetic appreciation. I'm pretty sure I'm pretty asexual. I can look at people and think they are ridiculously attractive, and I can look at people and think I want to spend time with them, and I can look at people and think both, but never do I look at someone and think "I want to have sex with you." That's just not something that goes through my mind ever. The biggest, longest running crush on a Real Life Boy I've ever had, I don't think I've ever had a sexual thought about him, and only fleeting ones for my Real Life Woman crush (but that didn't really count, because she wasn't really a Real Life person because it was literally impossible to have a relationship with her being, um, my teacher) -- I'll on occasion have sexual fantasies about celebs or something, but I know if I ever, for instance, had the opportunity to do whatever I wanted with Olivia Wilde for one night in real life, we'd have dinner and talk politics and maybe cuddle. I remember realizing, at a Halloween party last year, that I hadn't gotten off in a while, and there was a guy there who was kind of cute (in that lighting, at least; turns out not so much, but still), and that I could totally make out with, possibly do him if I wanted to, but I didn't. Not at all. Not even "oh, that'd be nice but I don't really know him so that's dumb"; there was just no desire whatsoever, even when I tried to mentally put someone else (including women) I knew better in his place.

But then again, I think I would have no problem, if I broke past some barriers and was in a relationship, having sex. I enjoy orgasms. (Or, um, I did. Fucking anti-depressants.) But I don't . . . go out and look for it? I have no particular desire to have sex with another person, save maybe for scientific curiosity, but if you were here and I was here and we were really good friends/in a relationship and were bored or (idk if I ever actually get this way, but) horny or whatever, sure; as is an occasional catchphrase in our house, "Here, have some orgasms." I've told Roommate before (I think I was probably drunk, but still) that I would totally do her if she ever wanted to fool around, just because I love her (platonically) and if I can do something that makes her feel good, why not? That puts me more on the aromantic side of the spectrum and would disqualify me from "true" asexuality in some people's narrow views, but whatever.


COOL STORY BRO. Just some things I've been thinking about. I kind of tend to just go "agh, fuck labels" because I am so confusing, but at the same time, I feel . . . idk, like I said above in regard to my lesbianism in high school, like I don't want to get left out of this group that I belong to? I don't generally stress about them, but they helped in this case to sort of ~express my feelings. Of all the things I angst about, though, this isn't one of them. The fact that I'm Ace doesn't disturb me (even though I have the probably unpopular opinion that most asexuals probably could be diagnosed with some kind of attachment or arousal disorder; just because it's a thing -- like Roommate's Gender Identity Disorder, or my redheadedness -- doesn't mean you have to do anything about it if it's not distressful or an impediment to functioning). I imagine the gender thing might be more disturbing if I was desiring of a standard, heterosexual relationship (or any relationship at all), but because of the asexuality, it's just not an issue. I wish that my gender performance could be more in line with how I actually feel I'm performing (see above Adam Lambert example), but that's life.

Sometimes, Roommate and I say we're 200% gay. It's crazy; we're like fucking SuperQueer over here or something. Fuck yeah, house of fabulousness.

I keep reading over this and wanting to add more/change things to make sure it all makes sense, but I think exactly two people are going to read even this much, so we'll just hit post.
commotiocordis: (RDJude)
OKAY SO OMIGOD DREAM.

This was some weird shit.

It started with me somewhere public-ish. A mall, I think, but it was relatively deserted (not for any malicious reason, just that there happened to be only a few other people passing through that section of hall at that moment). But then all of a sudden, there were all these armed swat-team types around me. Huge guns, people shouting, and the impression that they were going to either kill or take me away and lock me up in some tiny little dungeon (a la UNIT and Toshiko Sato). I still have no idea what I did, but there's the general impression overall that it's a science-related/for-your-protection thing (like I was a scientist that they were going to need later in this war that hadn't broken out yet but they knew was going to, so I just ended up sitting around and being guarded. Idk, but it was definitely not that I was a bad guy, just more that they'd rather kill me than have me fall into the wrong hands. Look at me be all self-important in my dreams, LOL).

So they're surrounding me with guns and chaos, and I'm all "I DEMAND THAT YOU TAKE ME TO THE UNITED NATIONS IN ACCORDANCE WITH GENEVA CONVENTION ARTICLE 2-point-some random number!!one!" Because I want me some civil treatment, kthx.

And then they do. Or idk. There's a jump in the dream there. And then I'm in this room; it seems like a sort of hotel room, but very small and greyish walls. It's really just a giant bed with a giant TV on the wall at the foot of it, with the door on the right side of the little strip of open floor between the foot of the bed and the wall with the TV. Definitely not guys surrounding me with guns anymore, and the treatment improves from here on in, so I have to assume I'm with the good-er guys now.

And then we get to the even weirder part. CHRIS PINE COMES IN. No lie. Don't know if he was C-Fine the actor or a character in the dream who was just being played by him in my head (I have no idea why he was allowed in my cell thing; there is no logic in this dream), but I definitely identified him as Chris even while I was asleep. Okay. Then even weirder. We're together or some such, because then begins hetsecks. I KNOW, RIGHT? My second sex dream ever, and it's not even Jude Law, who I'm nurturing this epic crush on right now, but Chris Pine (who I sekritly sort of think is goofy looking, but was hot in my dream).

So right. That happens, even if it ended sort of . . . prematurely, iykwim. I mean, there wasn’t the feeling that I was disappointed or anything; it was like that’s what I expected to happen, but there wasn’t any actual, erm, sexing. It was more of . . . oh, fuck it. I was lying back, and he straddled my legs sitting up, and I jerked him off. There. TMI? Yeah, probably, but I’m trying to get everything I remember about this one down, because I’m still not sure where it came from.

As a side note, it’s really interesting to me that my subconscious hasn’t realized that I’m bisexual. Or, to be more accurate, sexually bisexual (if that makes sense). Two dreams something like 4-5 years apart isn’t exactly a scientific sample, but it’s interesting that though I have dreams where I’m cuddly or get the feeling that I’m in a relationship with women, I’ve never actually sexed one in a dream, and this is two guys now. (ETA: Three, if you count the weird short one I had during a nap the same day as the long one! What is with me today?!)

Anyway, so after that, Chris starts flipping through the TV’s movie menu—I’ve never used PPV TV in my life, but the menu setup here was sort of like “cover flow” on mp3 players, if that makes sense. Titles and prices were listed top to bottom, and you could sort of scroll like spinning a wheel, and the title in the center was expanded for the cover shot and synopsis and runtime and stuff. I don’t recall more than the few specific titles that were mentioned, but in retrospect, they were in weird order, because there were movie series where we passed by the first early and had to scroll much farther for the 2nd or 3rd. And the prices were freaking insane. We’re talking $5,738 for The Blind Side. Older movies were cheaper—there were $68 ones (still insane, but comparatively speaking, that’s nothing). I happened to see Galaxy Quest 3 scroll by, and I hadn’t seen that before (because, you know, it doesn’t exist), so he picks that for me. I found him quite gallant, XD! But something goes wrong, and a different movie starts playing--Beauty and the Beast. (I think this one may be because 2ish weeks ago, I found this B&tB kids’ computer game I played on DOS when I was a lot younger and finally managed to beat it. Both the finding and the beating were quite exciting—there’s one minigame in it that’s hard for a kids’ program; I was playing on easy and still lost and had to start all over the first time.)

Somehow, it turns out it’s my sister’s fault. This almost-14 year old girl somehow managed to switch the movie that was going to play in this hotel-cum-cell thing. She had picked the wrong one somehow--the menu was just a menu, and selecting a movie just sent the request out and then a person had to intervene to get it playing, apparently. There was a question as to whether she misclicked or thought that was the one I wanted, but was apologetic (in that 13 year old “Gah! I’m sorry” sort of way) when I told her that we had to pay for these (why she wouldn’t know that if she was “behind the curtain” so to speak is more evidence of logiclessness).

The sister thing was apparently the segue into the fact that it turned out that we eventually (Chris was still with me) moved into my parents’ house somewhere (it wasn’t a room that actually existed, but the kitchen and back yard and stuff confirmed it as home). It was a time jump again, but control by the handler guys they had looking after us (it was obviously much more protection than anything else by now) had loosened, and I was allowed to go outside, and into my own backyard without supervision. It was an awesome day, weather-wise, and I played with our puppies. I thought about how I could pretty easily escape if I wanted to, but I’d only have at most an hour or two’s head start before they noticed I was gone because I was still under surveillance, and it was better to let them do what they wanted because it wasn’t a huge interference in my life by now anyway, and I’d rather keep it like it is than have it go back to the cellish place I was at the beginning. When I came back in, I puttered around in the kitchen and one of the handlers came up the stairs (which are right on the kitchen in my house) from the basement, thus revealing that in this latest dream!period of time, the current handlers had set up and were living in my basement.

Another time jump. Now, we’re in Springfield. There’s only one handler down there with C-Fine and I because it’s considered less of a target city (where in St. Louis, there were a bazillion and one on different shifts), but it’s time to go back up to St. Louis. We were in the airport in Springfield (which I’ve never seen, but judging as how it handles very little traffic, my brain made into a pretty cramped building with one ticket/customer service desk next to an escalator that led up to several boarding gates) trying to find out how much it would cost to get a ticket to St. Louis. Chris and I figured that we could convince the handlers that it was safer (less transit time along sometimes pretty deserted highways with only one handler/protector guy) and probably not too much more expensive. Because we figured why not try to get a flight out of this whole inconvenient deal.

And then I woke up. I’d set my alarm way earlier than I actually needed to, though, which sucked, because I would have loved to find out what happened next. I get good, memorable dreams so rarely that something like this is really awesome for me. I had another 40ish minutes I ended up trying to go back to sleep for, but only actually fell asleep for part of it and couldn’t get the dream pulled back up anyway, but I sort of expected as much.

ETA continued from above: BUT THEN. When I got back from class, I putzed around the computer and stuff, then took a nap before I had to go do my volunteerything at the hospital (apparently, my reactions to TB tests would like you to believe I’ve never so much as seen La Boheme—which I have, thankyouverymuch, but I’m so unreactive you can barely see a bit of redness where I was poked). And in said nap was ANOTHER DREAM. As this was a short nap, there was very little detail I gleamed and basically no events except for one and OMG IT WAS HORRIFYING. We were in Grimmauld Place (before we get too much further, let me admit that I’ve been reading almost exclusively Harry Potter fic in the last two or three weeks, so this one is in basic setting a bit more understandable) and I was Harry Potter. In the first, long one with Chris Pine, I was myself, so this was odd. Maybe I wasn’t him, because he was still him, but I was seeing things through his perspective (like when Harry!Nagini bit Arthur Weasley, yaknow?) or something? Whatevs. Then the weird part. I don’t remember much setup, but basically Harry got seduced by Voldemort.

And then they were kinda sexing. Or, rather, more of a prelude to it. Making out and grinding.

I KNOW, WHAT THE FUCK, RIGHT? A., I am not Harry Potter, nor (though it would be FUCKING AWESOME) are Harry Potter and I psychically connected a la Harry and Voldemort. B., Even if I were or were connected to Harry Potter, I hardly think I/he would be smexing up Voldemort. C., WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BRAIN?

That is all.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Re: the Denver game last night Sunday (because fail at hitting post). This Subway commercial is oddly prophetic, innit? I didn't actually see the game, which sucks (I mean, how often is a coach gutsy enough to go for the 2-point conversion rather than take the guaranteed tie with the extra point), but from hearing everybody complain about it (including all the football recappers on TV), this seems to have been the scenario.

And LOL at what's the top listed "most popular" story on Yahoo atm: Doctors say leg pain can signal deadly blood clot. This is part of an ad campaign for House's season premiere, I am thinking. Kay, prolly not, but still. Made me smile when I opened up the news page.

And these bits are from today:
Dream of cracktasticness.

So, evidently my subconscious wants to sleep with Jackie Onassis. Slash is doing so. Because in dream, I ended up having to tell her kids that Kennedy was dead (though it was nowtimes, she was young like it was thentimes) because we were all relationshippy. There was comforting. Not the sex type, though. Very platonic, except in that way that you just know that it was not. And then I ended up not getting around to telling my brother because I was doing something else (I think bringing back food from random cabinets in the symbolic dining hall that was actually off of a landing in between flights of stairs), but then I was in my kitchen and I hear this random loud sob. My initial response is "Oh, somebody told him," because he's sensitive about this people dying type thing. But then he runs up the stairs, shirtless, holding his hands out cupped in front of him. In the hands? Potato chips. The plain, flat, translucent with grease, white Lays kind. My dreamself's next thought is "They must be hot or something," but I hadn't gotten around to wondering why he didn't just drop them when [livejournal.com profile] bleakone's phone call woke me up.

More crazy fast weight gain. I'm getting worried that it's some kind of hormonal/metabolic thing, because it's now up to 10lbs. Water weight from having access to soda at every meal?

Random observation: I just glanced down at my left arm (because it itched) and there's a significant sized pockmark/hole by my antecubital vein from the last time I gave blood. Like a dent in the skin. Fail, healing.

No real thoughts yet on the House episode. Except no flirting with patients, Remy. That's not cool. Because I refuse to allow myself to ship doctor/patient unless they're recurring or otherwise notable (read: played by an actor/actress I like), and so that's a waste of the network's miniscule allowed homosexual flirtage quota.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
I had a dream last night. The part that I can remember most vividly went something like this:

I was in a meadow/park thing with my dog. And there were some goats. And one goat decided to headbutt my dog. Dog's reaction was adorable (all confused like, which is totally what Rascal'd do, because he'd be all Labrador and "I want to be your friend!"), so I lol'd. Goat then sees me. Decides to go after me instead. I'm trying to fend it off, because getting headbutted hurts (though not completely successfully) and I hear this snort behind me. It's a big ram thing. With humongous pointy horns. And it looks angry. And so then I was thinking: do I try to be nonthreatening and hope it won't attack me, but almost definitely get gored if it decides to, or grab the horns (which is def. threatening and it would most def. try to attack me then) in hopes that I can steer the horns away from my body? I ended up grabbing them and was trying to keep it back when the dream ended.

But the overarching theme of the dream and what I was thinking the entire time was "Oh shit. I'm gonna get gored."

I think it's prophetic.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Quote of the Day:

"Don't let faux Klingons send real Americans to war."
David Wu (D-Oregon), 10 January 2007 address to US House of Representatives.

Yeah. Made me laugh. Found the bit of his speech on youtube; he starts off referencing those books that call Bush's support the Vulcans, and ends up saying that they're Klingons, not Vulcans, and fake Klingons at that.


Had a nightmareish thing Friday night. There was a bunch of stuff in it and for some reason a lot of it was set in my old elementary school, but the basic deal was that I didn't have my 20 minute speech prepared for theatre on Monday. Well, it's not looking good in real life.

I had planned to work on it on Saturday, but I've been sick all of a sudden and so I didn't feel well and then we went TV shopping and when I got home on Saturday I was too tired to do much. Friday was spent finishing reading the damn play, finishing watching the movie of said damn play (because we've been taught so little that I've got no idea how to express what I want on stage and I hoped that the movie would help me out in that area a bit), moping around feeling sick and watching DS9 episodes while sprawled out in bed, and then working. Now I'm back, just finished finishing watching the play, but am really too tired to do anything. Problem is that even though I'm legitimately sick enough to not show up tomorrow, this is a one day, no extensions, no nothing type of deal that gets recorded and sent off to wherever to be graded as part of the eighty-someodd dollars I spent as registration (the money being for said grading, truly). Man, this is definitely the most expensive class I'm taking this year. No kidding. I've spent (or should have spent, a couple of times I managed to get in free somehow), not counting the registration money, more than $30 going to see plays and such.

Back to the TV shopping. My mum bought some entertainment center thing (which I always used to think meant TV and stereo and DVD player and such, but really is just the cabinet for some dumb reason) and mixed up our entire front room, and me being so vehemently anti-change freaked out and told her that it looked horrid (it makes the whole room off center as the TV's now way off to the left and the new focal point of the room is this patch of bare wall in the middle where the molding at the bottom was ripped off right after everything got moved in order to replace it for some reason) and she yelled at me for being so negative (true, but it really did look bad) and completely irrationally and mostly because I was pissed at my mum, I then refused to go into the front room for a day and a half (or really just 20 hours or so, excepting the couple of times I averted my eyes as I had to go through to get a drink or something). We get to Saturday and my brother brings home two disks of the Deep Space Nine season two DVDs, and I'm trying to get them to play, but the TV just has fuzz on the input channel when it should be playing them. I fiddle with the cords, trying every combination, but neither DVD nor VHS input is working. My brother phrases something poorly and mum jumps on me for blaming her (when I hadn't even said a bloody thing, where's the fair in that), and I go back into my room to start reading some of the Beckett crap I got from the library. Later, I hear that shortly after that the whole TV display went out; it quit working for regular TV too, not just input things. So my dad and I then spend nearly two hours between CompUSA (as they're moving all the stores out of our city and as such we figured they might have cheapy TVs, and they were all 15% off, but they only had big flat screen things that were hugely expensive to begin with, so we moved on) and Best Buy, end up getting one from the latter. Which was no easy task, as we finally find a good and semi-reasonably priced one, but then they can't find the one that they've supposedly got in stock. Turns out that they don't have one, but then I ask if we could get the display one, because I really liked that one and it was the only one that had decent picture and would fit in said new entertainment center cabinet and wasn't a bazillion dollars. They say yes, but then they can't find a remote and don't have a box, so we're fiddling around with that, finding out if universal remotes will work (they said only one brand would, but luckily we brought it home and found out they were wrong and the cheapy kind we have does) and such. Da talks them down like $50, which was impressive (though half of it was in gift card form, annoyingly). He's really good at that, because he worked in retail for a while and just always asks. Most people have no idea that you can do that, or at least I figure my entire generation doesn't, but he says that there's always a lot of wiggle room with price and most of the time if you're looking at the right stuff you can get them to knock it down a little, especially if it's the last one in stock and there's no remote/box/documentation like with the TV. Anyway. Oh, and the guy selling it to us was rather nice looking and called my dad Sir. I love that.

We bring this TV home and plug it in and it's nearly 10:30, but I start watching the "Endgame" movie before going to bed. Wake up this morning and mum's bitching about how it takes like 5 seconds to change channels. Which it does, which is annoying as hell. She wants it taken back now, though, as supposedly TVs are like 2/3 or half that price around Christmas. I'm all "So, we're supposed to not have a TV until Christmas?" *shakes head* I dunno. Odd stuff, my mum lately. I decided this time that it's some odd Freudian shit. She's subconsciously afraid that I'm going to challenge her for her position as alpha-female, and as such is pre-emptively striking at me out the wazoo. That or she's just PMSing. I'm wagering it's a combo of the two. But my da says that his mum and sisters did the same thing, which is what makes me go towards the former. Even though I think Freud is a chauvinist pig, I do see where he gets his ideas.

Anyway. A good 30 minutes or so wasted typing this that I could have spent figuring out what the hell I'm going to talk about for 20 minutes tomorrow. I'm prolly going to make most of it up on the spot. Whatever. I was all uber, uber depressed Friday and to a slightly lesser extent (meaning that I wasn't actively thinking about how I wanted to kill myself, but still just as bad all the same) on Saturday, and right now I've now got the 'still really depressed in general but at this present moment in time closer to apathy than wrist-slitting' thing going on. Which suggests to me that dumb medicine isn't working, but on the off chance it is, I started the new pack today instead of waiting until Wednesday because I didn't feel like being miserable if it could be helped.

I'm probably going to go to sleep now if I can (I had a horrid time going back to sleep after I woke up after aforementioned nightmare on Friday just because I was thinking about how I might not get it prepared well; without having it prepared really at all at this point I dunno if I'll be able to sleep, but we can hope). I'm gonna set my alarm for a few hours from now, wake up and try to work on it then when I'm not just thinking about how tired I am. Hopefully my stupid stomach won't be bugging me as much then.

Oh, and if any of you haven't read yet and get the chance to read "Chronicle of a Death Foretold" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, you totally should. I love the writing style of it, all circular and reporter-like and fun. Plus, the story is really good--you've got honor and murder and religion and apathy and all those fun things (I'd explain more, but I don't know how to talk about the interesting bit of the story without giving stuff away). I really want to at some point try to write something styled like that (shorter, though, as it's basically a sorta small novel) because it's such an interesting form. This is probably the thing that I've had to read for school that I've enjoyed the most all year. Even though I've still got like 30 pages to go in it, actually, now that I think about it. I should finish that. Ha, but I won't be in english class tomorrow because I've got to do the theatre thing, so I don't have to try to get through it tonight. Like I'd do it tonight anyway.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Oh. And stuff that is just random and not related at all to anything and some of which is quite possibly too much information. Being on the subject of dreams.

I've been having dreams lately. Usually I don't have them except for very rarely, and I've gotten 4 in just like two weeks. And they're odd. Some of them have been, for lack of a better word, sex dreams. Which is interesting. Only one of them, the one about a week or two ago, was actually all with the explicit sexing that I can remember (but then it turned out that that was really just a plot device for the rest of the dream, being that my mum found out and refused to ever let me stay home from school again because she figured that was what I was doing when I was home alone), but it was freaking threesome sex. Weirdness. Het-ish, too. Not so much me with the het, as I was more over the other chick in the few short seconds of actual sexing I can remember, but the chick was all with the shagging of Charlie, from Numb3rs. Who's cute, I admit. I'd probably do him. Still. Kinda my first dream that had actual explicit sexing (I can only remember like a 3 second flash of it) in it, which is interesting.

Then there was the one where there was a play being put on, but I wasn't in it, and it was somewhere weird, not any kind of place/stage/location that I could identify. The situation (not the play, but all the actors and where we were) had a lot to do with the military, and there was a tone of me being the doctor who shouldn't really be out in the field with them (if it was so dangerous that I needed protected, why they were putting on a play I don't know) because there were enemies about or some such. But both the director type of the play and my self-assigned protector was totally Kara Thrace, from Battlestar Galactica (yeah, TV people show up a lot in my dreams. I had watched the season 3 bloopers again that night just for fun, which I assume was the reason it was her). And there was obvious sexual tension between Kara and I. I don't remember if it was a we're obviously going to get together thing or a we're already together thing, but it was nice. I remember that she made me feel protected and such. Which was nice.

And then there was the other one the same night (actually, morning, after I went back to sleep after waking up at like 5:30) that was also quite odd. It was elevator weirdness. There were creepy/odd lift malfunctions going up and down some building. And there was more threesome sex, but it was completely implied, I think (I don't have any memory of explicitness like I do in the Numbers one) and all women, one of whom was Abby Lockhart from ER. And I got the impression that it was a bit hurt/comfort sex, that Abby was angsting for some reason and (I'm pretty sure that I knew the other one was Susan Lewis, from the same show, but it really didn't look like her very much) Susan was a bit also, but not as much, and we were all sort of *deangsts each other through elevator sexing*. And I don't know if I'm combining this with another weird elevator dream (they seem to be in my dreams a lot, and nearly always screwing up in some capacity) but just as I was typing this I got this memoryflash thing of one of the floors the lift went to that was towards the bottom of whatever building and had some big sunken in/in ground/whatever it's called hot tub thing (though large enough to be a small swimming pool and could be used as such). But I seem to think that's from a different time. I don't remember anything else for definite about the h/c elevator one from Monday morning except that that the lift acted all funny, particularly loosing gravity at some point. Which was odd.

I just realized that I said I'd talk more about my muppet dream from a few weeks ago, and never did. Might as well make this a compendium dream post. This was on the Sunday night, I believe, before my theatre performance. It was a musical, in the beginning, of sorts, in the style of BtVS's "Once More With Feeling" rather than a real stage musical. There was a muppet female in a military dress uniform (I don't remember noticing what branch) and she was singing with Doug, who is in my bio class (and various other classes in years past). They were in love, and she was being deployed to Iraq and was all sad. I remember one of her lines was something like "I'm an officer, they shouldn't have to rip me away from you," because she was all not with the wanting to go because of love, but duty, country, yadda yadda and she had to. But that was in like the hallway of the mall right outside a bookstore. They're still outside working stuff out, Doug and the muppet (whom I originally decided to call Zoe, even though she didn't look like the Zoe on Sesame Street, because that's the name that popped into my head when trying to describe her, but in retrospect, she looked more like Rosita), and I go into the bookstore and see my friend Rachel at a table in there. I go up to her, and sort of glance down at what she's doing and she's got her assignment/date book (though it wasn't the one she actually uses because my dream took a little artistic license as it needed to have a calendar in there) and my theatre performance thing is marked down for the Saturday. (And it took me until halfway through history class the day after I had the dream to realize that the date was wrong, as the theatre thing was actually going to be on Friday.) And I'm about to say something about how it's cool/flattering/whatever that she marked it down, when I notice that there are motivational quotes jotted down on the Saturdays. Which is probably because a) the calendar date book things that the school gives us have them in there and b) the guy that does the announcements has started sticking one or two (often really long) ones in there every day. But anyway. I thought that was interesting. Then, Bill O'Reilly comes over. Yeah, no idea where that came from. He's the owner of the store, and for some reason I had started to walk away a bit, to look at a rack of books, but then I hear that Rachel (dunno how they got to that point, as it was only a few seconds of me being in only semi-earshot) is about to explain her theory of life to him. I edge back over because I want to listen. But then I woke up, and I remember being quite sad because I wanted to know what her theory of life was. When I told Rachel this, she was disappointed also, because she said she would have liked for me to let her in on her theory of life.

So. Though only explicit sex in one of them and only for a moment and pretty much just as a plot device, the more recent three have all had sex/romance/whatever in them. I dream so rarely that it's odd enough that I've had this many this recently, and though it's not odd that there are undertones of romance (my Kara Thrace implied relationship thing is relatively common) it is different that I actually knew that there was sexing going on in the two of them.
commotiocordis: (QPicard)
I set a package of shredded cheese out on the counter to thaw (because it was being stored in my freezer) a hour and a half ago. It's still lots frozen. Which means that I still haven't had dinner. And it's 10:30. Grr. And now it's too late to eat, really, so grr again. Not that that will stop me from making a salad as soon as it thaws, but still.

We had this theatre showcase thing on Friday, with the Chekhov plays and such. It went okay, I guess. We needed more work. I didn't get to see any of the bits, though, that I wasn't in, and I've heard they didn't go as well as the two I did. Which is nice/somewhat flattering to think about, that the people liked/understood mine better than the others. I have heard from audience types, however, that the actors weren't so much doing what I directed in the one scene as not. Which is sad.

There were prop issues, namely that in two scenes, people forgot to bring out/bring over the water glasses that were needed. The time I did it, it screwed things up because the lines assumed water was there and though I had the presence of mind to change the blocking to make it look like I was directing somebody towards the water instead of pouring it down their throat, I only slightly changed the wording when there was a way I could have made it make better sense by changing the lines more. But it was on the spot and such, so I didn't think it was too bad. The other time was in the scene that I directed, but it was fine because the only real mention was one actor's line "Give me some water?" and the other one was just like 'Urm, sorry, don't have any.'

And the light girl kinda sucked it up a lot and missed cues and such. Which was bad for us because it was like "And. . . scene. Lights off now. No, now. No lights. And we're still frozen here. Lights off!" etc. And between the second and third scenes, she didn't turn the lights up at all for set change, so I bumped into things. Twice. It was embarrassing. Made me more nervous than I was before, because I was all rattled from stumbling.

And lol at the communal white shirt. There was one white shirt that got passed between three of us for a bit of costume. Which was funny, because you've only got a tiny bit of time between scenes, so we've got the shirt tucked in while we're on stage, but everything that you couldn't see was unbuttoned because as soon as you got offstage (we were using the local middle school's stage because it was small and cute, so 'backstage' was really just the teacher's room that adjoined it) it was like *strips* *passes shirt*.

There was improvyness, which made me happy. In the first excerpt from the Seagull, there's this twisted love thing going on. Trigorin (me) is with Arkadina (Katie). Arkadina sort of flirts with the doctor (Kerry), and so at that bit, I'm all "Um, no. Back off, old doctorman. She's mine." And then Nina (Melissa) comes on and Trigorin's all "Umm, yeah. I'll hit that," and very flirty with his hand on her arm, and then Arkadina comes down between them and is like "Yeahno." And at that part? Best line delivery of the entire show, IMO, on Katie's part. She does the splitting Nina and Trigorin up thing, and is all very fake forced civil to Nina with her "Oh, don't talk like that. When you embarrass him-" and it gets even more forced and obviously angry and she turns to Trigorin "he wishes he could simply disappear." And she hit the last two words with a "Oh, you are so not getting any for the next week for that little stunt," thing and this look that was just amazing. I heart my Katie.

Hee, cheese is more or less thawed. *eats salad*

The director of that scene totally didn't figure any of that out; the whole bit about there being this love quadrangle and how we needed to play it up because it's funny was me. Which made me smile, because people got it and laughed. But at one part, I had mentioned earlier in a rehearsal that I wanted Trigorin to do/say something to Nina (or vice versa) as she's leaving, but the director (being just one of the other people in the class, as we all took turns directing a scene) sorta just blew me off (she's kinda annoying in that manner). And I figured out sort of what I wanted to do and so then when Arkadina's like "Oh, dear, Nina, someone must take you home, darling!" I (being Trigorin, he-who-wants-to-hit-that) was all *steps towards her in a 'oh yes, please let me take you home, sweet!' manner*. And then Katie (being Arkadina, she-who-is-hitting-Trigorin-and-not-liking-Trigorin's-flirting-with-Nina) grabs my arm and pulls me back by her and gives me another look. The first thing that popped into my mind was 'OMG. She just broke character like whoa in order to tell me that I wasn't supposed to exit then or something.' But then I was like 'No, Katie wouldn't do that, she must have just gotten what I was trying to do and played along.' So I was happy that our brains worked together like that because that bit ended up being really funny.

And then there were pictures and I was like "umm, no. I'm wearing a dress. And said dress is sorta tight. Meaning I'm not into the whole 'let's have photographic evidence of how Alexandria has no waist to speak of and annoyingly large boobs' thing" Because even though I had been a man for the second to last scene, I had to give the communal white shirt of doom to somebody else for the last one (the final scene being the one I directed and as such wasn't in), and as such needed to put something back on for curtain call and it would look strange if I was wearing my costume pants and a t-shirt. And I was carrying everything off stage while everybody else (meaning the other five) was talking with friends and stuff in the audience (which kinda really annoyed me, because it was my sister and I who got it all carted to the dressing room/backstage/german classroom.) But then Katie was like "Oy! My da wants pictures." And I was like fine, only because I love you. So there are pictures of me in a dress floating around somewhere. I doubt they're good, because I managed to not bring makeup because I was sick that day. And all week, really, but I actually stayed home on Friday because I had been not getting sleep because of the sick and I knew my acting would be all suck if I tried to make it through an entire school day and stay after until 9:30 (meaning being away from home and not sleeping and instead doing schoolwork and prop carting work and dumb stuff for like 15 hours straight) when I hadn't had more than one hour of unbroken sleep all week. But back to the makeup. I didn't bring any, so I ended up using Katie's for the foundation and rouge and lip stuff (because with the stage, you know, you're all washed out and not fun and so yay stage makeup), which is fine because her foundationy makeup is exactly my color (twins, I say) but I didn't have any eye stuff and I'm already rather pale, so I imagine from the back it was like "Oh, look, there's some floating lips. And rouged cheeks. But no eyes." So I dunno if the pictures are any good because of weird no-makeup on eyes, makeup on rest of face thing. But maybe. We'll have to see when they get developed/whatever.

But I managed to leave both my school ID and my glasses there, I think. Which is sucksucksuck. Because we used my backpack bag thing as a prop, and as such I dumped everything out from the main section at home, but my glasses and ID were still in little front pouches and so they got taken out (or in the case of the ID, fell out) and I didn't realize it and they're still there. (The ID usually is in a different spot where it wouldn't have fallen out of, but I moved it to a bigger holdermajiggy right before the show because you could sorta see the edge of the card in its actual pocket.) Bad because I had to take one of those big standardized test things the next morning, and I didn't have my school ID, so I couldn't. Even though I'd already paid and everything. And then, I go and find out today that since it was at my school, if one of the proctors had ever taught/known me (which would be likely, as there would be several there and I've been at that school for like forever) they could just have identified me and let me in. I didn't know that, so I didn't go, because I figured it'd be a waste of gasoline because they wouldn't let me in. Also found out today? Of the four times that a girl in my english class has taken it, this was the easiest version. And I missed it. Unnecessarily. Damn. $40 someodd bucks down the drain because my dumb ID card fell out of the pouch it was in.
And then my glasses were there too (which is what I'm more worried about) and so I had to borrow my sister's to do volleyball (as we have virtually the same prescription and all) but she had to have them for school, so I couldn't see anything all day today. Like math notes. Or chem notes. Or bio notes. (Though bio is dumb and easy.)

So yeah. Had a dream a week ago or so that basically made me go "Huh. So, whatever crack I was doing in my sleep that night was a bad idea." It involved two people from my school, a sesame street muppet in military clothing, and Bill O'Reilly. Yeah. I'll have to talk about that one later.

Hee at me starting writing this two hours ago. That's what I get for writing three things at once. I jump back and forth and it takes hugely long to finish any of them.

(Hee again at new icon. The coloring is weird because as I don't have that episode, I capped it from a scene in a fanvid. But it makes me smile. I've been all into the Star Trek of late, particularly the guyslash, which is rare for me.)
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Had a couple of dreams (two nights in a row, which is weird for me) when I was in Texas that I never wrote down, even though I was planning on doing it straight away.

And I can totally explain/rationalize both of them (though not last night's at all), which is cool.

In the first one, I was staying home from school because we were adopting a baby (my parents, I mean) and then I was going to take the baby to school with me to show my friends and I parked in the back parking lot (which is odd, because I haven't yet bothered to get my license) at my school, but then somehow I was walking up to my old elementary school's front doors. I don't get the school switching thing, but this was the night that I met my second cousins (was Christmas eve night, I think) who were babies, therefore baby dream.

And the second. Imminently more interesting. Before bed that night I had been watching some Real Medical Mysteries type show (which, after reading the blurb, I immediately realized is just like House only without the predictable treatment patterns, gimpy doctor, and really short diagnosis time). And in it, this doctor wife lady was poisoning her doctor husband with castor stuff, and they made a rather big deal on the show about how that's the stuff they make ricin from. So the dream was rather like so.

I was a doctor. (I get that kind of thing a lot.) At PPTH, because that's fun. And there was a biohazard/chemical leak/something type thing going on and Cameron and I (I actually remember thinking in the dream about whether I should try to get Cameron and Cuddy together or leave it, as I somehow knew that it was Cameron/me, and then deciding that I should just try to get Cuddy in on it because then it would be Cameron/me/Cuddy, and that's just hot) were like the first ones to notice it, so we were telling everybody (the scene I can actually remember of the telling took place seemingly right out side of the basement/cafeteria of my church) to grab the mask/breathy things (that were all hanging on hooks right outside the room everybody was in) and get out of there.

And there was more, but the next bit I can remember is everybody on a school bus type thing and nobody really knew what was going on and Cameron was about to stand up and explain, but I noticed that Cuddy had just gotten on the bus and I put a hand on Cameron's shoulder and was like "This is something Lisa needs to do."

Yeah. So, really easy to figure out. Baby one because I had been playing with babies, House themed biohazard one because I watched a Houseish show with talk about biohazard stuff.

Figure out this one.

I remember an image popping into my head just as I was falling asleep, and I think I pulled myself back from sleep long enough to go "oh, so this is going to be a Star Trek dream", because Seven just decided to pop into my brain. Haven't been watching Star Trek lately, haven't read any Voyager lately, so no idea there.

And it was, more or less. I only remember flashes of this one, but Seven was being all vulnerable and sad and I ran over all *cuddles*. And then I was in the bathroom in my basement, but it was also like a bedroom at times and not a bathroom. And between the bathroom and the basement living room in my house there's like a bit where the room is skinnier because there's a bunch of stuff, and in that space my biology teacher was. . . erm, teaching. I never saw the students, but he was. And somehow I knew that it was the other bio class, the year above me. And in the bathroom, up near the wall closest to the living room bit, there were shrimp. Lots of them. Dead ones. And they were floating. Yeah. No idea. And I poked my head out, and was like "Erm, did you know that there are shrimp floating in here?" And he gave me this almost patronizing "Yes," and it was very much a 'you don't get it because you're not in Bio 2' (and I totally could be, but I chose to stagger my science courses so I could take the big tests right after I finished the bio sequence and not have to wait a year). So I suppose that's probably my feelings of inferiority because I chose to take bio later (though not later, really, just with the people my age) and so I'm no longer ahead in what's actually my best subject.

But yeah, there's more. So here I was in the amazing transfiguring bathroom/bedroom, and I think the shrimp left or something, because I don't remember them being there after that. And the whole reason I was in TATB/B was because I was setting up the bed to go to sleep in. With Seven. I don't know why. And not like that, unfortunately either. And I had my top off or something for some reason, I was changing or whatever, and then Chakotay walks in. The Voyager senior staff (really just Chakotay, Janeway, Paris, Tuvok, and Kim), turns out, was sitting on the couch past the makeshift biology classroom. And I was surprisingly cool with it, he came in to wash his hands or whatever, but then he gives me this malicious smirk and leaves the door wide open when he leaves. And I was like "thanks a bloody lot." I dislike Chakotay immensely, and this obviously carried over into the dream. I figure this has something to do with when somebody comes back into my bedroom when I'm trying to sleep and opens the door to tell me something, but then leaves the light on and the door open, necessitating my getting out of bed and walking to the door to close it and turn off the light and then walking back, which is annoying as all get out. But then Janeway comes in a few seconds after he leaves and smiles at me, rolling her eyes back at him, and closes the door. So that was nice.

Oh, and I totally just realized where the Star Trek bit came from. Not the Seven and me/Seven bits, but I was watching a music video yesterday, I just remembered, called "Loser". And it was basically Chakotay bashing put to music. And lots of the shots had Janeway shooting/attempting to hypospray into oblivion/seemingly mocking him. So that's the whole Janeway and Chakotay bit. And bio I figured out just as I was writing it too. So that leaves the Seven bit. Nothing is forthcoming at this moment. We'll just blame it on the fact that I've been watching a lot of The L Word lately, the music video was of Star Trek (though Seven was the first thing I saw, even before I was entirely asleep, and she wasn't in that vid), and Seven/me is cool. It was definitely not a sexual thing, though, I got that. Slightly sexual, I mean, but not sexual as in actual sexing, more of a comfort thing.

Oddness. Yay for dream interpretation. I'm pretty good at that.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Random updates from the past week or so.

On Monday, I worked at the table at lunch for Transgender Day of Remembrance and got to use the line (in response to one of the principals who had gained a lot of weight really recently and Sadie thought might be pregnant) "rapidly expanding first trimester ass".

Monday night, up the entire time doing that paper so on Tuesday, I got home and pretty much just went to sleep and woke up in the evening (because I didn't have to go to school on Wednesday and so decided that I could sleep as long as I wanted).
Didn't remember that it was my brother's birthday (to make a long story short so this makes sense, he had a birth defect thingy -- you may remember my rant about the disgusting article that called the anencephalic baby an 'it' and "baby", quotes included, and talked about them parading him through the streets; this is why -- and died a few hours after he was born in 1999) on Tuesday until I dreamed while I was taking my extended afternoon nap/sleep thing about my mom crying. Totally forgot with the whole english paper thing that it was the 21st, and that was the only part of the dream that I remembered when I woke up, and I knew somehow that that was why she was crying. Yay, weird subconscious reminder dreams.

Did nothing the entire break. Got up at 4:30 on Friday to go down to Circuit City to try to get House season 1 (advertised for $13!) but parents didn't wake up until 7:30 and we didn't get there until 8:15 or so, so naturally none were left. Nor was the cheap hard drive just like my last one that I decided to get to use instead of the bulky one and only use the bulky one for backup and storing big movies and episodes and stuff. But the ad said season 1, and that was what was (supposedly, I heard from one person who had been there when it opened that there were only 3 copies) out there to be bought, but the picture on the ad was of season two. So I wanted them to give me both of them. Though they didn't have season one or season two at the first place, so I went to another store that had copies of season two left and made them give me it for the cheapy price. So yay for that.

And I knitted a whole lot. Made this bigish longish half a scarf, but I picked up a stitch somewhere and you didn't really notice that and I didn't notice that until I was quite past where I gained it (and still can't even see exactly what row I picked it up in) and so I just dropped one on the end, but that you can notice, so I'm kinda angered about that. You didn't notice my screwup, but the fixing of the screwup is obvious. I'm definitely going to go back and rip those last ones out until before I dropped it now so it's not so bad, because this thing is pretty long and I can't stand just wasting it.

And I finished Sula, at least. Haven't prepared for the presentation on the dumb Sula thing yet. Not doing that now.

So I did do some stuff over break. But none that actually helped me school-wise, save reading the book.

Finally went to the gym today after months of not going (I've gone maybe 4 times since school started at the end of August). I've gotten totally weak. Lost my mad sexy triceps. Though I was doing the tricep thing a different way (the right way, actually, now) so that would probably explain why I had more trouble than usual, because I was working a slightly different muscle when I was holding my arms a different way. But my mad sexy triceps are back, more or less, because I worked them enough that they're close to the old definition and should be back to normal if I keep going regularly. Watched a couple minutes of "The O'Reilly Factor", that was too sickening so I switched it to C-SPAN and watched some people from the US Institute of Peace talk about Syria/US relations without really saying anything which was only slightly less depressing, so then turned it to Fox, but "House vs. God" was on and that was the episode in which Wilson lost his awesome for sleeping with his patient, so I watched a few minutes of that until the first scene with Wilson and the patient and then just turned it off because we were leaving.

My dad called his mother today, found out that she had another stroke a week and a half ago and even though one of my dad's bum sisters (he and one brother out of 7 kids are the only ones that turned out any good, sad to say) is bumming off of my grandma and living with her on her social security and my grandfather's army money payment stuff, she didn't feel the need to let any of the rest of the family know that my grandma had a stroke. Whore. But I thought it was pretty cool that she figured out that she was having a stroke herself. She realized that she didn't know who the person (bum aunt) in the house was and figured out that she was having a stroke by herself (seeing as how aforementioned bum whore aunt probably couldn't figure it out if it was written on Grandma's shirt). Hospital people were mean to her again: they were making her lie down all the way back (which makes sense, to re-perfuse the brain after they gave her I assume TPA and probably warfarin) though she was telling them that the lying back was giving her an asthma attack. She was like "no, I can't breathe" and instead of figuring out "hey, she can't breathe, let's give her some medicine to fix her breathing and then ask her to lie down", they just strapped her down. And I assume, then treated her for the asthma attack. They did the same thing when she had colon surgery a couple of years back almost; the morphine made her nut out (like it did to her husband; there seems to be a genetic intolerance for morphine and such heavy duty pain killers on that side of the family) and they just figured she was senile and strapped her down and didn't talk to her normal doctor so he could say that she's not normally like this and something's wrong for a couple of days (because my dad and I had just left right before it kicked in) and only did she get fixed up when the non-bum brother of my dad came down there to visit and was all "WTF have you done to her?" But so she's lost pretty much the last 20 years, doesn't remember any of the grandkids (though for some reason my dad is lying to my brother and saying that now she does, because he'd get too upset if he thought that she still didn't, but the last thing I heard from my dad reporting it to my mom was that she still doesn't know), can't remember the date for longer than a few minutes (she asked my dad when they were on the phone several times), etc. But this is much improved from last week when it actually happened and she's bounced back from them before, so it might not be too bad. The only symptom she initially had was a swollen leg, meaning, I'm guessing, deep vein thrombosis from which a clot broke off and went to her brain. So she's got shunts in the leg now because there were still clots down there, but on the good side her heart is looking really good, better than it should be since she's had heart attacks and stuff.

Math teacher went in to labor reportedly last night, wasn't there today, yay for that. Not yay for the fact that the sub is bad (she just reads the steps in the example and doesn't give you time to think about what she's doing so you just copy it all down and try to figure it out later) and her voice is uber-grating.

So, yeah. To summarize, my math teacher being gone=good, sub sucking=bad, House season two for cheap=very good, weird somewhat predicting dreams=strange, going to the gym=good, Lisa Edelstein on Conan O'Brian right after these commercials=sex, grandma having stroke=bad, bum aunt not telling us about stroke=whoretastic. Also, me not knowing what to do for this presentation= v. bad.

Lisa on now. Bye.

December 2014

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