'mage-making is getting tiresome.

"I would not be so bold as to say she is a contemporary character - but neither do I think her conventional, as such. Each separate part of her is part of a conventional stereotype, but the way in which they have been put together makes the result rather unusual, and so it is difficult to say to which category she belongs."

There's something about staying home alone with the laptop and a good supply of chocolate that sort of says "dork", but it's nice for an introvert. It's like extending your boundaries of privacy to the whole house. You can watch/read/play/make whatever you like and no-one's going to make a fuss about it. You can eat whatever you like whenever you want. You can turn up the volume really high and your neighbours'll be too polite to come over and complain. You can even sleep without anyone making noise around!

Ahh, the charms of a quiet neighbourhood...

intruder

There's someone staying over at my place. I don't know who she is, she doesn't know who I am, and she'll be staying till Saturday for reasons I really wouldn't care to guess. What a right little ray of sunshine. But at least she's not staying in my room. The day I let that happen, someone'd better check the temperature in Hell.

Is there any wonder that I'm in such a black mood?

I am so going to Kino this weekend,

regardless of what anyone, sod them,

has to say against it. I need my fix,

damnitall.

do you know...

...that I find spiders preferable to insects?

...that the Shinto story of Izanagi and Izanami is remarkably similar to the Greek one of Orpheus and Eurydice?

...about my secret stash of colourful paperclips?

...that I wanted to watch K-20?

...about Hakushaku to Yosei?

...that pizza is actually a hard-crusted masala thosai?

...if there is any way to get a wish granted?

...about any tips for walking in ridiculously high heels?

...that I made pixel puppets from paisley?

what you want?

Blurry (phone camera) but whatever.

Poor fella was created during a particularly boring study session.

If paisley is to flower, then marionette is to...?

bobbing for piranhas

Well-known funfair attraction, don'tcherknow, positvely to die for (or was that "of"?)...

The roses are eye-candy. Because my words aren't.

I have, to date, only managed to maintain one blog. That is, remembering to post. But really, you have no idea how many others I've made and subsequently abandoned. After a record of six posts maximum, I always lose interest... But I feel a teensy bit guilty now. Wasting space isn't nice. Meep.

I'm off to post something on my story blog; I'm feeling (very much, for some reason) like it. If only I can recall my other Blogger ID... ><

RIIYFM?

I must be some sort of idiot masochist.

Confound it. Con-bloody-found it all.

The rubbish I inflict on myself!
The crap I do,
the stupidity I'm guilty of,
the utter nonsense!
The bleeding lack of good sense!

Gahhh!

Don't do drugs. Seriously.

I am in. Over my head. I'm even

using red, you see how bad it is?

A Green Symphony

was boring.

The only good bits were The Phantom of the Opera and The Sound of Music, pah. But then again, since when did work have to be fun, huh?

Always remember the golden rule: he who has the gold, makes the rules.

I'm still rather weirded out.

Hen da ne . . .

Weird.

Ogay orfay ethay ideray?

Vork An Ziety

Ah, it does me aging heart such good to have some of the old work back. Invigorates the old bones, it does. Gives that healthy dose of reality. Wonderful in moderation, really.

To work!

How best to describe it?

Ah, would that I were better with words...

distractions!

Behold, my current favourite demon. :D

I'm such a bloody fangirl. I hate it, but for now it's helping my sanity, so what the heck.

(I'm sorry, really I am, but I wanted to do this, just once...)

Kyaaa~!!

I've seen, in the past four hours, way too many

bishies. I'm so staying off the computer tomorrow.

"There's no subtext, no social commentary."

It totally sucks to be:
-- obsessed with fairytales
-- infatuated with non-existent people
-- starved of reading material just as the holidays begin
-- the victim of self-inflicted restlessness
-- so bored that the imagination gets out of control

And most of all, it is too crappy for words to be just the type of person that one hates.