MOOP!

I like my hair.

***

I get my wretch of a computer back tomorrow, hopefully. At some point. Between school, and gaming, and papers, and...

I have pretty much decided that the dead stays dead and I take this as an abject lesson in not being a dum bass. Bye BtW 2.0. I'm sure I'll begin 3.0 when I have the new harddrive...

***

Addicted to Bad Ideas is an awesome song, and good for walking. Also, I need a drumset. DRUMS!

***

Oh god. I'm like Jeff from Coupling only instead of an unnatrural obsession with breasts, I'm obsessed with drums.

...I...don't even know what to say to that thought.

***

On the subject of thoughts, this was a bad thoughtstream:

Brush hair, brush brush. Hi mirror! Yayhair being brushed out and pretty and wavy. Hum, this light makes me look like a boy. *study* I look like my brother! I...can't believe I just thought that, and I think I need to disown that part of my brain and fix this problem immediately.

***

My brain is cycling something awful onto the things I no longer have. I'll be just fine, and then my brain will somehow link into "transcriptions of text messages you wanted to keep!" or "Really bitchin' picture of you in your vest!" or "Entry into BtW that explains what it feels like to be perfect and how happy you are, just to be a counter to the massive amounts of angst that float in there."

And that kinda sucks. So, if I randomly go "Fuck! _____________" anytime during the next week, this is why. Please be patient.

Examples:
...Fuck. Three folders full of ShadowKevin taken pictures from Rocky Horror.
Fuck, every picture of Amanda I had, plus...oh, HELL NO. Oh fucking hellgods no, I lost the Jekyll and Hyde and Lucy pictures. Damnit, damnit, damnit!

*sulks* This game sucks.

***

There were two things I was going to post about. One was the Addicted to Bad Ideas thing, and the other was...something. BUGGE'*

*Bugger, only I don't pronounce the "r" when I am shouting it annoyedly. One of my assorted swears that I cycle through, like son of a _____________ (where the blank is usually filled with one of the following: Bitch, priest, cock, whore, or a priest, a whore, and a silver spoon. I like swearing. This is because I am not a lady.

***

Actually, I am, apparently, an overstuffed plaid chair. Nono, not as a thing, just as my...gender. Um. Yeah.

I'd say it's dan4th's fault, but it's really not. See, if we consider the idea that there is an opposite sex, that means the sexes are inverses of each other, ie, male and -male or notmale.

And females are not male. But as someone pointed out, overstuffed plaid chairs are also notmale.

And I am notmale, therefore I am an overstuffed...plaid...chair. Fuck man, I don't even BEGIN to know what's wrong with my brain.

***

Flipping through Lauren's CD's, I found myself drawn to the cover of a Paramore album, which had a couch sitting in the middle of an empty field. I was *very* dissappointed that it wasn't an outward hitchhikers reference.

***

That is enough things for now. I think I will go wander and the like. By wander I mean eat, and find somewhere where I can sing along to my music loudly. That may be at my secret place (and I cannot express how difficult it was to find a secret place in boston, and it's really not perfect as there are windows that stare at it. GAH NEED TREE, YES!)

Actually, under my desk is kinda my comfort place, but I can't really go there and sing. Or I could, but it wouldn't do anything to keep Grace from hearing me singing. Soyeah. Tangent, much?

Damnit, I need to zip back through my journal and yoink addresses from people. AngrySunBird, Janny, KittieKattie, Leenah, skullx, thirdbase(?)...who else has posted their address with the request to gather addy's for christmas cards? Comments are not screened, but if you just tell me you did it recently, I can go trawl through your journal and find it.

***

I have a wooden banana.

~Sor
MOOP!

No walls involved.

Laterposts to include:
Stealing words from people (Yessum, yep, niff, nommy, yuh-huh, grin/sigh, Ohmygod (umbagog))
Christmas type list and request for addressess so I can send out last years cards :D
Words, that essay I mentioned like a million entries ago that I never wrote and now need to even more
The State of the Sorcy's Sexuality (which may or may not involve couches) which, Fuck, I wrote that already. Fucking Seren.

PostScript: What should I name the next computer? Since computers are defined by their harddrives rather then their casing, this next computer will not be Serenity Freiheit. I think I'm leaning towards Serendipity, which was the other name for Seren, but that seems...unfitting judging by the current total lack of serendipity in my life. :P