ontology | Entries tagged with arbitrarity

The other day, I was watching Jeopardy, and they had a category by the name of 'Girls Gone Wilde'. It was about female characters in Oscar Wilde writings. I did the happy geek dance and thought of avonleigh.

Otherwise, I have absolutely no pontification to offer. My mind has gone on holiday for the week, methinks. It is very bothersome. Um. I could give out random tidbits of utter nonsense: I did my hair in a pair of braids without undue calamity. I need be-striped stockings. It is not fun to be typing along merrily and suddenly have an ant crawl across the keyboard. I haven't been to the library in over a month and the withdrawl is beginning to eat away at me. It isn't all that long until LOST Season III. Hyperventilating is not the best thing to do at two in the morning. Even if Desmond is oh-so-very alive (and Scottish).

♥ um...
♫ "Under the Paving Stones", The Like

Heidi: "We went to Pizza Hut, but they only had black crayons, so we left."

In other news, our phoneline is high-speed ready, and we still haven't installed the confounded internet yet. I am beginning to be very, very vexed.

Also, my pearls are trying to kill me.

♥ sniffley
♫ "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree", KT Tunstall

Point the First: Oy, Gore Verbinski and assorted scriptwriters! No more CLIFFHANGERS, plzkthnxdie. Also, can you please release wall-prints of Pirates cinematography? It would be much appreciated.

Point the Second:

tuesday_skyline updates! With sparse comments! [insert irresistable hobbit-face here]

Point the Third: COLDPLAY, FOR GOODNESS SAKE. If you EVER record another album, PLEASE, FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND WONDERFUL AND SANE, PUT LYRICS IN THE LYRIC BOOKLET, CONFOUND IT! *weeps*

Point the Fourth: I'm getting high speed. Finally. Therefore I am counting the days until the twelfth of this month obsessively.

♥ hyper, unfortunately
♫ "Devils & Dust", Bruce Springsteen

I just remembered the other day that

lady_moriel and I had this really...interesting...theory that somehow Sirius Black was Bill the Pony. Or Bill the Pony was Sirius Black. Whichever. Also, we tossed around the possibility that her mother was Sirius--I don't remember why for the life of me, except that it had something to do with her mother being gone at mysterious times, or something.

Also, this proves that I have NOTHING TO WRITE. And stuff. Er.

I'm turning sixteen in three days and going on holiday in four. Which I probably should have mentioned a while ago (the latter, I mean), but I am notoriously bad about this. Anyway, the family was lent a timeshare in a hotel suite overlooking the beach in Virginia Beach (there's some redundancy there), and will be there just over a week. Er. Actually, a week at the hotel and several days at

midenianscholar's house. I'll be staying with her much of the time. Which means general photographic havoc will be wreaked, and you lot will see bits of my considerably odd wardrobe. Also, we have scads of other friends in the area, as we lived there for six years, so we'll be reconnecting with people. Futhermore, a lot of Sonlight forum homeschoolers live in that general area, so about ten families are getting together--people whom Mum has known on the internet for years (some of them, anyway), and whom I know vaguely from reading over her shoulder for years.

However. The internet and I shan't be parted. Dad's got a laptop (did I mention this? it happened recently and I am jealous and he still hasn't figured out how to use it), and the hotel may have free dial-up. If not, I'll be using

midenianscholar's internet, unless she's been lying to us all this time and uses a library computer and PRETENDS SHE'S A REAL PERSON, which would be quite a feat seeing as I met her last year and she did not look like a forty-year-old man to me.

Er. Also, my bedroom is actually clean. You can see the floor and almost open the closet and everything. It's really rather astounding. The bed is made, even. (We'll see how long that lasts. I mean, um--have a biscuit, friends-list.)

I will also attmept to finish my

tuesday_skyline questions before I go. If I don't, please thrash me heartily.

♥ generally pleasant
♫ "Dignity", Bob Dylan

See the Millay? Is the Millay not teh shiny?

In other news, I am still angsty and my muse is still on holiday.

However, I did begin cleaning my room today. Rather, unearthing my room. So far, it's been quite the adventure. I actually found a pen. One that worked, even. Unfortunately, my muse refuses to be lured by pens, even the somewhat fine-tipped, blotchily-scribbling sort with gorgeous black ink. I have been working dutifully on my

tuesday_skyline questions, in case you lot were wondering. Most of them are actually finished. No, really.

I also have several memes I ought to catch up with. Expect these. Eventually. And stuff.

♥ tired
♫ "Kiss Me", Sixpence None The Richer

I have this urge to write essay-type posts on everything from religion to literature, writing and the writing life, fanfiction, and my ongoing psycho-analysis of Sirius Black. (Er. Yes. The last is really, truly something I think about rather a great deal. He's such a fascinating and angsty character; how could one not want to figure out what makes him tick?) However, none of this is really possible until I Have My Own Computer, Blast It.

In other news, I am putting up wanted posters for my muse. She's either run off again (eloped, possibly, with one of my secondary characters), or been kidnapped, murdered, or otherwise disposed of by some malevolent miscreant out for a bit of random destructive entertainment. Hopefully this means that she will be brimming with inspiration when (and if) she does return, although I don't count this as definite. Can one fire one's muse if one's muse begins to be an immense bother? And if one fires one's muse, where and how does one go about attaining a new one?

♥ generally average
♫ "Just Like We Do", Eisley

I am attempting to come up with something really scintillating and fascinating to write here.

(Drawing a blank.)

So, um, does Sirius Satelite Radio and its alleged omnipresence, omnipotence, and general mind-reading ability (as displayed in the television commercials, albeit discounted) have anything at all to do with my Sirius theories? At all? Because can't you see Sirius thinking one day: "I'm bored. I think I will start a company. With the proceeds, I can probably fund my hunt for the Other Curtain and my other selves." (Businessman!Sirius is an irrationality all its own, so we will just ignore that part. Even if it is desperately amusing.)

♥ msdhgsi
♫ 'jealous kind' - jars of clay

I danced in the rain today.

Er, for "danced", read "stood on the verandah for a very long time", but it's better than watching the rain from the window, right? It smelled so wonderful and spring-like and green. The storm came before anyone had time to get used to the idea that it might--suddenly the sky went dark and everything turned a queer shade of green, and it stormed. It was amazingly dramatic, with rain coming down as enthusiastically if it had just discovered how, and great crashes of thunder and green-white lightening, and all the windows were open, so the freshness drifted in, though our wood floors got rather prosaically splashy, as did the inside of my guitar case, as I was daft enough to leave it open under the window on top of two laundry baskets, as my room is beginning to look like three war zones and a daycare and I really ought to spend a day (or week) making the floor visible again.

(I was wearing my long patchy hippie skirt, however. Surely this should count for something!)

On the writing front, my muse seems to be a) alseep, b) on holiday, or c) on strike. The latter is extremely possible, as I tend to ignore said muse if she harangues me at an inconvenient time. Oddly, I haven't written anything late at night in a while--not on a whim, anyway; the last bits I wrote in The Way the World Ends were the result of me furtively using the computer past midnight, but it was more the sort of occasion upon which I force the words to take shape instead of having them buzzing through my mind until I turn on the lamp and fumble for a pen. My mind has been feeling much more clear today than it has the past several headache-plagued days (need new spectacles, as mine are four or five years old), so perhaps my muse will actually behave, however briefly.

Also, WE ARE GETTING HIGH SPEED INTERNET. Watch me recklessly abandon punctuation in my freakish glee. But ohmysweetword, I can watch movie trailers and music videos and play internet radio ALL DAY LOOOONG. Must get Dad's internet radio recommendations, as he wouldn't stop telling me about all the splendid stuff he listens to at work occasionally with FULL KNOWLEDGE that I can't get any of it on this rubbishly dial-up connection. Bleh. Anyway. High speed = *TWIRLS*

♥ noddish
♫ "Such Great Heights", Iron & Wine

I refuse to be angsty anymore, except that all resolutions will go down the drain tomorrow, which I think is the day Dad is officially announcing his resignation, or having it announced, or...something. Anyway. Bits of random Banuinews:

I walked all around the block today while reading. It was vastly entertaining. I'm not certain, however, if it was more entertaining than the time I walked all around the block in my ballgown, hat-tied-under-my-chin, and lace shawl.
I attempted to put on my mother's wedding dress today, as it is gorgeous and Victorian and has a generous lacy train, but I could not get it to zip up all the way. Fortunately, Mum tells me she couldn't zip it either without the corsety thingummy she bought, which she called something else as it isn't a proper corset and doesn't lace, but it has the same basic function. (I tried that on, too, several days ago, and had slight difficulty breathing, but I couldn't find it today.) Blast. I wanted to take pictures outside by the woods and muss up my hair and look spooky and ghostly and gothic and tragic, but alas, such is not the prosaicness of life.
I wrote a bit of ickle!Remus today. Most definitely odd.
I bought KT Tunstall's album Eye to the Telescope on iTunes t'other day, and it took about five hours to download the thirteen tracks. Hate my internet. HATE IT. However, I hear there's a chance we may be getting Real Internet soon. I really madly hope so. Anyway, album = love. It's bluesy. And, as I said, "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" is serious brilliance. I'm still getting to know the other songs, but I'm rather partial to "Under the Weather" and "Silent Sea" at the moment.
I have lost all of my pens. This is very distressing. Last night I tried to write with a cheap imitation of the pens I use, and not only was it nothing in comparison, it was also running out of ink. Bleh. Life is pain, highness.
I think bullets are really neat.
I should stop typing now.
I started every paragraph with 'I'.
Except this one.
I really ought to get a few hobbies.

♥ cheery
♫ "Angels Cry", the Kennedys

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Page Summary

Geekery Gone Wilde
Dinner Conversation, and Other Things
Various Aggravations
Assorted Morsels
Gratuitous Icon Post
Of Writing, And Stuff
something really scintillating and fascinating
Sanity & Insanity
An Update

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my heart is a glorious machine;

Entries tagged with arbitrarity

Geekery Gone Wilde

Dinner Conversation, and Other Things

Various Aggravations

Assorted Morsels

Gratuitous Icon Post

Of Writing, And Stuff

something really scintillating and fascinating

Sanity & Insanity

An Update