I've got a new pet!

His name is Mr Jeremy Fisher (after the Beatrix Potter book, which has always been one of my childhood favorites) and he's a little tree frog. Mom caught him on a leaf and I provided him with a tupperware home with a holey lid and dirt and plants. We're gonna get him a proper terrarium later. *nods*

After it stops storming, I'm going to go dig up some ants or something. He's small, and I don't think he'll eat crickets or anything.

TO GOOGLE!

Right now, he's trying to break out through the tupperware lid. X3 Fortunately, it's one of those lock-lid things they advertise on the TV and nothing much can get out.

He's so cute. :D *squee!*

Turns out I'm more or less healthy. A bit overweight (a problem I'm trying to correct--I've given up fries and ice cream now, and have sworn to go to the HealthPlex with Mom and Grandma every week) and the creepy doctor gave me some Claritin for my already-poor sinuses. I didn't like him. He couldn't figure his computer out, and he had nose hair down to his upper lip and hair growing out of his ears. EWW.

And we signed up for a kayak class at Lake Rim. I always liked kayaking; it'd be a good way to build upper-body strength, and a good way to keep cooled down (it's still very hot here).

I fetched some things from the house--notebooks, the Highlander DVD with Roger on it, Tommy, a shirt, a calendar, and my art set.

After I dig up enough for a ginger ale and gummy bears, I might go to the gas station. Finding out I'm about 30 pounds heavier than I thought I was depresses me, and I have to avoid the bloody refrigerator (my problem, I think, is that I'm a nervous eater, and often nibble whenever I'm stressed, which is more than you'd think for someone who spends her day at home pondering the problems of the universe--so I figure if I spend the day away from the fridge and the ramen and all that and exercise and drink more water, I should be on my way to health).

Bah. I can't get to sleep, and I can't breathe through one of my nostrils.

I was looking forward to going to sleep early (shut up, 2 AM is early for me) and being well-rested and semicoherent instead of nervous and on edge for the doctor tomorrow. Doesn't look like that's gonna happen, though. Maybe while I'm there, I should ask about insomnia as well.

Until I manage to get to sleep, though, I'll listen to John Entwistle and play Gaia Word Bump.

I was also looking forward to having my dreams. Y'all know how I love my dreams--or, more accurately, the people who live in them. It seems that no matter how I wait and how I look for friends in real life, they won't come to me. Even when I go out into the world and seek, all I find are old people (who I'm sure are quite interesting, but I'd rather like having a friend my own age) or children (I don't like children). And on the off chance I find somebody my age who talks to me, nobody ever finds me interesting. Perhaps this is the reason for my Internet addiction. I can easily charm the people on the screen. I can make friends with people who normally hate and despise all manner of hippie-type folks, I can cheer even the gloomiest person... but in real life, nobody finds me interesting or charming or eloquent.

But I suppose as long as I've got a vivid imagination, I'll never be alone--I'll have my friends as close as my brain. However, there is the depressing fact that I rather like hugging and touching my friends, but it's rather difficult to accomplish when they live in your brain. And if you speak aloud to figments of your imagination, you're considered insane. I don't fancy ending up in the room with the rubber walls, so I zone out and have conversations within my mind. Which doesn't make me as sane as I pretend it does, really.

I could do without all those other things I'm privileged to have, but I wholeheartedly wish I had at least one true, loyal friend who wouldn't abandon me. I've got issues with that, I suppose. I had a great friend from third to seventh grade who up and abandoned me one day for the popular crowd (who found my reading obsession, tomboy-ness, and sarcasm to be LIKE THE GRODIEST THING EVAR). Then I had another friend who is obsessed with a mutual friend of ours, plus he lives 30 minutes away by car. His thoughts center on her and he loves her very much. I rather envy their relationship. I like her, too, but all the same, I'm jealous of her; she's artistic, intelligent, witty, good with people, and she's very beautiful as well. I wish I were more like her, but my attempts to be anything she is have so far failed. And when it comes to me or her, he will always choose hanging out with her first, unless he has some dire need of advice or counsel. Then he comes running to me.

Since there is no connection or common thing between the two, I guess the problem's with me rather than them. I wonder what it is?

Perhaps I'd better stick to Internet-friends instead of real ones. That way, I can open my heart to people without fear of abandonment. I've had some of my Internet-friends for seven years now, and we're still close and friendly.

But I still wish I could tackle-glomp them and otherwise physically annoy them sometimes.

Had some rather strange and unusually nonsensical dreams this morning. It could have been because my sleep was interrupted constantly by poor breathing (I attribute this more to sleep apnea than Friday's Troubles). I remember going to a circus and seeing the Who. No, I'm not sure why they were playing at a circus, but it was still bitchin', because I got a front-row seat. There was also a Clown College video for sale. Remembering that it had been out in the living room and had probably melted, I bought a new copy.

Then it snapped to the middle of some woods and I was hiking through with the Blond Guy (who still refuses to tell me his name! Agh!) We found a rickety rope bridge. He recommends that I don't go across, so I do anyway. He sighs and flies out and catches me as I'm freaking out midway to the river below.

Then we were trying to join an anime club that had an unusual focus on tentacle hentai. UGH. D: But since I was so freaked out by tentacle hentai, I was assigned to make refreshments. I made anime girls out of ground beef and decorated them with the spaghetti. I guess I've got a sick sense of humor. The Blond Guy then fled upon discovering that they wanted to try to raise a secret ancient tentacle monster with the sacrifice of a virgin (and I'm so virginal Mary's jealous). He yanked me by the hand and dragged me off to hide in someone's private home. XP

Didn't go to the doctor's today. Mom didn't wanna get me up. We're going tomorrow, though. Going to the house tomorrow, too. *nods*

We're going to the doctor's tomorrow, to make sure that I didn't inhale too much smoke during Friday's fiery events. I'm not looking forward to it, although I was the one who suggested it; doctors always find SOMETHING wrong with you and then scheme to suck all of the blood out of your body. If vampires are ever found to exist, I swear to everything available that it'll be a doctor, not a crimefighter or lawyer or astronaut or anything.

Bah.

Then we're going to the house so I can retrieve my notebooks and perhaps a couple more shirts; this Wonder Woman shirt is nice, but it's too... something for my tastes. It's kinda tight around my upper arms and it's just not a shirt that flatters me, I suppose. But it's clothing; I'm grateful to have it.

Dad says Snip and Miss Kitty are at his friend's house, and the dogs are at Karen's friend's house. They're staying over by the Texas Roadhouse in the extended-stay joint there. Hopefully, our house will be squared away rather quickly. Dad hates going out to eat every night, and I know he wants to party on his deck like he always does.

On the bright side, maybe this will provide me with a chance to redecorate my room; perhaps I'll do it in a sunnier color scheme and perhaps I'll get a new, smaller bed (the one I've got takes up most of the damn room). And I'll clean up and give away a bit of the extra things I don't need. I'd like to try for a minimalized look.

It's strange--it only happened on Friday, but I'm almost over the fire already. I'm still a bit miffed about losing the fish, but otherwise, I'm cool. A house is just a temporary place to keep your stuff, and stuff is temporary. I didn't need much more than I've got here--food, a couple changes of clothes, some tunes, and my backpack. It's cool. The animals are okay, Dad and Karen are okay, and I'm more or less unharmed (aside from having a few major freakouts right afterward and tomorrow we're going to the doctor's to make sure I didn't inhale too much smoke).

The things that are the greatest, I've taken away unharmed. And that's all that's needed or really, really wanted. I've moved on.

Though I am a little bit miffed that I won't be able to live in my home of ten years until perhaps Christmas. That's a bit of a drag, but what can you do, really? It's just a sentimental pile of siding and stuffing and nails. It's not really that important. So for now, since Dad and Karen aren't all up with it, I'll stay out of their way. I won't ask for Christmas presents and I suppose I'll have to just give up on seeing the Who this year. (That's what the Internet is for, I suppose.) It's more important that that $250 that would have been spent on seeing Pete n' Roger goes toward rebuilding our kitchen and cleaning up the house.

Rather miffed at THAT, too... I really wanted to see them. But what can you do? I don't want to stress Dad out again with that. I give up. I'll go do new things, and I suppose I'll listen to my Who CDs as loud as I can on those days that I could have gone.

It's a rather petty thing, though. MOVING ON, like I said.

Maybe I'll get a new fish tomorrow.

I think the bubbling of an aquarium would help me relax (twelve hours past, you'd think I'd've relaxed a little). And besides, the only living creatures who didn't make it out okay were my fish. They didn't like me very much. They were two little brown sharkish critters that we got to replace our angelfish who died. But I couldn't jolly well drag a 150-pound aquarium out of the house with all that smoke and fire, so I do believe that the poor things perished with the heat.

Maybe if I get a new fish, I'll name him Baba (going on the idea that God is like the endless shoreless ocean). I think that'd be cute. :3

Or maybe I'll get four and name them after the Monkees. I'm not sure why, but I've wanted to get fish named after the Monkees for awhile now. Weird.

I haven't calmed down, and now on top of it all, my hip hurts.

I AM sorry for the late update. My schedule was rather interrupted by an unexpected housefire. I'm okay--I was the only one there, and I woke up to the fire alarms going off and the dogs barking.

The kitchen is gutted--under water from the firefighters spraying it down, the ceiling fell in, and most everything is either melted or burnt or smoke-damaged. My room is blackened with smoke (the fire itself was confined to the kitchen). The dogs are okay, too; I managed to shoo them out. Miss Kitty was already outside wandering around. But Snip--our other cat--is nowhere to be found. He's not inside, and since the window blew out, we figure he went outside. But I'm worried, nyan! He's been declawed; he's not an outside cat at all. And I'm worried. T___T I want him to come back! *wibbles*

And then I had a minor panic attack in front of my parents, which I was hoping I wouldn't. But I snapped and broke down weeping on the phone to Mom and Dad had to take over talking to her instead.

But the firefighters said we'd be out of the house for about four months, because everything in the house needs replaced. I kinda wish I'd waken up earlier and caught the fire earlier, so it wouldn't be so damaged. Dad and Karen are super-duper-stressed already, and now this.

Another thing I'm pissed at--one of the firefighters jolly well accused ME of starting the damn fire! He didn't ask me when I noticed the fire or anything. He said, "What were you doing? What were you cooking? Why did you go to sleep?" It was Karen who accidentally left the stove on. I had nothing to do with it; I was SLEEPING from the night before, in my room, and woke up to alarms and dogs and smoke. Even if I'm tired, I stay awake the entire time to watch the oven and make sure it's turned off.

Bah. A bad day indeed! I'd been planning on playing videogames and eating some good vegetarian vegetable soup. But the Playstation and the cabinets are all fried to shit, so that doesn't look like that'll be happening.

Looking up at my wall, I think perhaps I should put some more things on there. It looks kind of odd to have the Doors, painting, Wall poster, Rock n' Roll Heaven picture, and Jeepers drawing all in a nice little line, then the Abbey Road poster above that up near the ceiling. It looks kinda... lopsided.

So maybe tomorrow I'll break out the paints, rob another cardboard box of its flaps, and paint the day away. Unless Mum comes with my games. Then I'll veg out in front of the television shouting at the screen.

But yeah. I could use some more color in this room. Steel-gray only looks nice for so long, then you have to dress it up. I've got an okay leap on it--but most of the things on my wall are kinda monochrome--the Doors poster is yellow of different shades, the Wall is kind of toned down, the Rock n' Roll Heaven one is black and white, and Jeepers is red and black. The most colorful picture I have up there is the painting. (I really don't know what the painting is. It was just something I did to distract myself while Dad and Karen were very vocally arguing last Thanksgiving.) And the painting is black, with little slivers of rainbow. (I'll whip up a reasonable copy of it in MSPaint real quick.)

I finally put my Abbey Road poster up. :D Dad went and bought some tacks and mechanical pencils when he went out to get some more cigarettes.

It was hard to put the thing up, too. The place I was originally going to put it up--over the computer desk--is a bit too far back, even standing on a chair to reach the wall. So I settled for putting it over the side of my bed, with the Doors concert poster, the Wall miniposter, the drawing of my Living Dead Ragdoll Jeepers, the painting I made, and the "Rock n' Roll Heaven" picture Dad printed out and gave to me. It's above those ones.

I should go get some more posters. I wonder if there are any Who posters anywhere? There's a serious lack of Who-love on my walls. XP

*hums*

Mom still isn't here with my games. She said she'd come over either later tonight or tomorrow.

I wanted to play KHII today... ah well. I'll get on doing my laundry instead.

Mom's bringin' my videogames over tomorrow. :D My stepmother's nephew left his Playstation here instead of taking it on the plane, so I don't wanna let it go to waste. So I'll replay Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts II while I've got it. X3

I've gotta do my laundry tomorrow, too. I guess I'll wake up earlier than usual, wait for Mum, do the laundry, get my games, fiddle around with the Playstation, and then if I've got time left, I'll go up to Eckerd. I need some tacks and mechanical pencils. (I think everything I own is covered in a thin layer of pencil-dust now.)

Busy busy busy!

I'm still having trouble making up my mind on whether to go to Minnesota or not this September. On the one hand, I just wanna go on a cross-country train trip on my own. I don't want to go and visit Jared's family (I'm sure they're very nice people, but the one time I met them at Mum's wedding, they seriously annoyed me--too many children around).

And on the other--the Who's closest dates to here are either in September or November. I'm plotting out my plans for seeing them in September right now. And I'm not at all sorry to say that I would enjoy seeing two awesome old men singing their glorious lungs out more than I would enjoy spending a week around scads of children.

Happy birthday, Keith Moon! We miss you, and hope you're partying properly in Wherever It Is Dead Folks Go.

*throws flowers and pours out a beer for Mr Moon*

I had a dream that I was Glow Girl from my story and wandered around making jewelry for random people. Some dude offered me shelter for the night, but didn't stick around. The next morning, I hopped a train out and met some mallrat-lookin' kids. They tagged along, having declared me the Master of Hitchhiking and Train-hopping. *giggles*

Then I had a nightmare about Army people taking me captive and eating my cat. WHAT THE HELL SUBCONSCIOUS.

Then, a dream involving those Keys and Doors from that time-traveler story I was scribblin' down. I got the keys and when else did I go but to 1969? I used my bedroom door create a portal and wandered out of a stage door into a Jimi Hendrix concert. BITCHIN'. He decided to take me along because he thought my story about keys and doors was funny. A jealous groupie threw me off the bus, though, and it was awhile before they noticed I was gone. I stumbled upon some camping Girl Scouts and a superhero who resembled Booster Gold and hung around for awhile until Jimi showed back up and took me back on the bus. But I stole some popsicles before leaving, too. XP

Went to Eckerd... finally. XP

-A lot of people either beeped the car horn or waved at me or craned their necks--I guess it's because of the two/three-inch peace sign pendant dangling from my neck. XP

-Some kids on little-girl bikes tried to run over my feet and backpack. D: Fortunately, I grabbed my bag out of the way at the last second and moved my feet, too. If they'd run over my backpack, I would have had to beat them with the bag. >:(

-I got gummy bears and Gatorade. :D The cute cashier chatted with me about John Lennon (I'm wearing the Power to the People shirt today) while he was ringing me up. Being the slightly creepy person I am, and because the clouds looked very ominous, I sat outside and peered at him from the side as he came out and waited for his ride. Don't think he noticed me that time, though.

-There was this cute, scruffy puppy following me home from the corner to my house. I wanted to try to catch him long enough to see if his collar said who he belonged to, so I could phone them up and tell them their dog was out, but every time I knelt down and called him over, he would run away a few paces, then resume following me when I got up. I liked him. I hope he sticks around this house; it's safe, because nobody ever drives around here, and he wouldn't be squished by a truck that way. ♥ And he was so cuuuute!

-I had a random thought on my way home: Maybe I'll be a zombie John Lennon for Halloween. Yeah, I know that his ashes currently occupy a nice space on Yoko's mantle, but I think it'd be funny; I've got an Army coat like his, I could muss my hair till it's like his was (and smear it with fake dirt or worms or something), and apply zombie makeup as well. That would be bitchin'. XP


I've been listening to Sally Simpson almost nonstop this evening. @____@

*does a jig*

I think that if I ever got cast in a stage production of Tommy, I'd like to either be Sally or Cousin Kevin. I think I'd make a fabulous Cousin Kevin. XP

Bah! It looks like it's gonna rain some more today. Jesus, this has been the wettest summer I can remember, in all my fourteen years of living in this town. Usually, it's dry to near-drought conditions. But it's rained at least once every week and a half this year. I suppose it's because, now that I want to go out and play again, the universe won't let me. Bah! I say again.

But on the bright side, unless Teddy starts that annoying shriek-barking again, I'll be sleeping in pretty late, and hopefully having wonderful adventures in my nice, dry dreamworld.

I can't remember any of the dreams I had yesterday, except I remember The Blond Guy and Jerry from the superhero dream were hanging around. I wanted Nosey and John to come back. *makes grabby hands* (Is it sad of me that I name the figments of my imagination and proceed to speak about them to an imaginary large audience as though they were real people? My. I wonder what that says about the state of my mental health. I should probably get that checked out.)

I might try to trim my hair a little bit, too. It's gettin' a bit shaggy for me.

And I've also discovered that unless I sell my soul to Satan, I'm not getting within a hundred miles of the Who. Either I sell my bloody immortal soul or I ninja my way into the bushes outside the PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel, New Jersey (wherever the hell Holmdel is). Because the way-the-fuck-out-there lawn tickets are $48, and the seats wherein you could hear them without an ear trumpet and see them without bird glasses are more than $100. So if I managed to get tickets and spend the night over there, then beat it back here to get my braces done, it'll cost about as much as a year's freaking college tuition.

*sulks*

I suppose, though, that being in the same TOWN, at the very least, wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I should hitchhike to Holmdel and just hang out around the place just to be within the same hundred-mile radius of the guys.

I really hate that none of the really fucking AWESOME acts come to North Carolina, South Carolina, or Virginia--the states that Dad will actually go to concerts in! Faugh. It's always Jackyl or Buckcherry or something like that. I wanna go see these gods of rock n' roll music while they're still around.

Sadly, I don't think Dad would be too keen on paying $600 for tickets, a shitload for a hotel, and another shitload for gas.

And no matter how generous Mom is feeling toward me, I don't think she'd spring for a $115 ticket just so I can sit in the middle of the auditorium.

This makes me a very sulky little hippie.

First, I miss Paul McCartney's tour last year, now I guess I'll have to give up my bloody soul to see the other people I love the most.

Also: I still need some tacks. I've got a nice little cardboard Space Your Face logo to tack up next to the lightswitch.

I'm going up to Eckerd tomorrow, hopefully. I need some new mechanical pencils. I can't stand writing with pens; it bleeds through the pages, smudges so I can't read it, and it's just too... bold, I guess? I dunno, but I prefer writing with mechanical pencils. The yellow Papermate kind, with the twist-down thing at the bottom. Those rock.

And I simply can't go days without writing something. My brain gets crowded with ideas, dialogue, and people that way. :P Constantly writing and drawing is a way to let my head relax from its usual crowdedness.

So far, I'm liking the time-travel door guy (whose name is Mr Mystery, aka Jerry). He tumbles out of a public library's janitor closet trying to get some research done on Earth, but he gets distracted looking for treasure instead. X3 He's nifty.

Also, it's only a little while until September! *does a jig of joy* Hopefully, I can convince Dad to let me go to the nearest Who show, combined with Mum's offer of buying me a bus ticket there. But if they don't, hey, there's nothing wrong with thumbin' it there and lurking outside the venue just to BE there. ... unless that makes me sound like a mildly creepy fangirl, wording it like that.

Yeah, it's kinda storming, so no Eckerd for me. *sulks* I was looking forward to going up there today.

I finished watching my Doctor Who DVD. What an awesome show. I MUST HAVE MORE. *makes grabby hands*

I've always wanted to make up a story involving time travelers, but the only ones I've come up with either sound too much like Doctor Who (now that I know about it!) or they're good, fairly original ideas that I just can't seem to do anything with.

I've managed to rustle up a time/space traveler who, yeah, sounds a bit like Doctor Who, sans TARDIS, Time Lord-ness, regeneration powers, bitchin' robot dog, and that. He's got a magic set of keys that allows him to open portals through space and time, as long as there's a door at both ends connecting them. He's a treasure hunter. He's SUPPOSED to be researching the universe for the sake of the Cosmic Library, the universal depository of all knowledge, but he's slacking off instead.

Yeah, it's not at all original, but I like him so far. He's such a nutter. X3

Also: I want a really long scarf like the Fourth Doctor has. It looks so cozy. :D

SQUEE! *does a Joyful Fangirl Dance* I finally managed to track down the Tommy movie soundtrack, and thus the Pete version of Sally Simpson. I love the original Sally Simpson, but I simply like Pete's more.

You have NO idea how long I've been looking for the damn album.

In other news: My dog won't come inside. D: AGH. I've tried calling him, tossing out a line of treats, even reaching for his hair to drag him in. But to no avail. He's barking and shrieking and generally making an annoyance of himself. I love Teddy, I do, but sometimes I wish I had gone for goldfish instead of a Pekingnese. But that's ten years too late, isn't it?

In other other news: I'mma go to Eckerd today if the sun holds out. :D And if I can swindle Teddy into coming inside.

I just watched the Justice League Christmas show and dammit, now I want it to be Christmas.

Why the hell are they showing the Christmas special in August, anyway? XP

It's the one time of the year where I don't have to hide being a tree-hugging, I-love-everyone Goddamn Hippie from my dad. The rest of the year, I'm kind of forced into Pessimistic Sarcastic Witch Mode for fear of being mocked and ridiculed by the rest of the family as being one of the people that Dad REALLY doesn't like--happy people, liberal people, charitable people, creative people. (Well, I like to think I'm the last two. I'm probably not, but I can pretend.)

But around my family, I can't really be the Leiko y'all know and love. I can't smile and bounce along merrily hugging everybody I meet along the way. I sneer at everything and act cynical, although I'm not. Just because I'd like to fit in with at least my family.

But at Christmas, it's rather relaxing, because Dad cheers up and so does the rest of the family, and I can bounce around as much as I want talking about peace and goodwill on Earth without sounding like a total loony.

Also: Why is it so bloody hot in this room? I feel like I'm roasting alive. D:

I finally heard that "Crazy" song that everybody seems to be listening to. You know, it ain't too bad. At least he sounds different from every other singing male that seems to be up these days. He's not whining and he's not rapping, for which I'm intensely grateful. What's the singer-guy's name? I might look him up later.

In other news: I think I'll go up to Eckerd tomorrow and get tacks, Gatorade, and Combos.

Mmm.

Also: I wanna show off my peace-sign pendant and Yellow Submarine pins. X3 Not that anybody will notice or compliment them at all, but I still wanna show 'em off.

Words that I think Should Be Banned from the English Language as a Whole:

-Bling.

-Hoes, when not referring to the piece of gardening/farming equipment.

-Moist.

-Spewn.

-Anything ending in "izzle," unless referring to Miss Frizzle from The Magic School Bus, because she was cool. Or "sizzle."

-"Dawg." Using that spelling.

-"Thang."

-"Homey." Unless my uncle is using it sarcastically.

-"You go girl."-White women calling one another "girlfriend."

-Loins.

-Doodie, doodoo, and any such word related to it.

-Whammy, unless referring to the gameshow.

-Any intentionally-misspelled word--such as "dawg", "tha", "noize", the replacing of simple two-letter words with numbers, or any pluralized word ending in a "z."

-"Turlet." It's a GODDAMN TOILET. Alternately, a crapper, a shitter, the porcelain god, etc. But it's not a "turlet", dammit.

-"Faith-based initiative."

-The dismissive use of "schm"--such as "phone, schmone" or "taxes, schmaxes."

-Chillax.

-Anything ever uttered by Napoleon Dynamite. While we're at it, I would like every single copy of this film purged from the planet and the knowledge of its existence banned. What a fucking overrated movie.

-CHATSPEAK of any kind. Use proper English, spelling, and REAL WORDS, dammit!

Come up with some of your own, folks! I'm sure you can think of some!

I'm dreading going to bed tonight. I've just got piles of stuff crowding up my bed, and I just don't feel like pickin' it up and tossing it all elsewhere.

I suppose I could stuff the laundry into the basket (There's no room in my closet or dresser--I've GOT to get to Goodwill and give these things to the poor folks) and put my backpack on the rocking chair.

But still, I'm feeling lazy. XP

I burned some of my incense, after taking about 10 minutes to figure out the damn lighter. Fuck child-safe products, I say! It shouldn't take me 10 minutes to light up my (lovely-smelling) Cool Water. And medicine bottles--I have to use a freakin' hammer to break it apart to get the candy within.

Today was a rather mixed day.

GOOD THINGS:

-I found Doctor Who on DVD and snagged it immediately.
-As well as some Yellow Submarine pins, Grateful Dead incense, an Abbey Road poster, a peace-sign necklace, and some blank CDs.
-I got to have one of those big soft pretzels (I'm a total pretzel junkie).
-They expanded Spencer's so you don't kill yourself trying to back up to let people through the extremely narrow aisles. This is where I got my new necklace and incense.
-They played good music at Hot Topic for once. Jimi Hendrix~ ♥
-Somebody actually struck up an interesting conversation with me! :DDD I was up on the top floor of Waldenbooks flipping through the comic books and a cute squishy guy came up and started talking to me. :D

BAD THINGS:
-That guy? Yeah, I think he was about ten years older than I am. God dammit!
-I saw a really cute homeless guy flying a sign outside the Christian bookstore and was digging around in my pocket to get the $6 I had left... and the light changed, so Karen drove off. D:<>
-Karen didn't let me take my backpack. I like my backpack. >:( And I did get kinda thirsty, but didn't wanna waste my spendin' money on a Coke. Pfft, $1.50 for a bottle out of the machine... bitch please.
-Karen considered making me drive. Fortunately, she decided to take the Lincoln, and she won't trust anyone else with the Lincoln, except the guy who takes it out and washes it on Tuesdays.

We're going to the mall tomorrow. Yayz!

Karen wants to look for movies at the little video store. I just wanna roam around. Perhaps see if the movie place has Head. Or if Hot Topic has any appealing Doors or Who or Beatles shirts. Or if there are any books to be purchased for my amusement.

I'm really overjoyed at the prospect of going to the mall. Not because I actually like the mall, but because it's somewhere. With people. Not that any of them would really volunteer to be my friend and companion--am starting to think that's a lost cause--but I would be around people, and that's what makes me happy. I won't be in front of the computer, I won't be in front of the television, and I won't be standing outside Brentwood trying to cross the damn street in 103-degree heat.

Also, I wanted to get some blank CDs. I've got a few playlists I'd like to burn onto 'em, and we're out. Particularly, the expanded Doors playlist (added Gloria, The WASP, and Summer's Almost Gone), the Woodstock one (using what I've managed to scrounge up through the Intarwebz, I've compiled a workable Woodstock soundtrack--I would still like to find the Love March from the Paul Butterfield Blues Band and the Jimi Hendrix medley at the end), and the Who Live at Woodstock.

*does a jig*

I had a dream that some creepy semi-evil demon guy named Jerry dragged me to a movie theater and tied me to a seat so he could have someone to watch Snakes on a Plane with. XD For my trouble, he gave me one magical power of my choosing, and for some fucked-up reason, I chose control over metal. WTF? I'd want flight, or control over light or stone or something. D: Argh.

Anyway, Jerry let me go and vanished for a good part of the rest of the dream, wherein a blond guy with a tophat and long blue and red scarf kept following me around and dispensing sage advice and jelly beans. And I kept following around a Mysterious Dark-Haired Guy who rather reminded me of Jim Morrison. Except this guy had an extra set of "eyes" tattooed on his face below his normal ones. O_o

The Blond Guy and I followed him around a convenience store for a long time. The Mysterious Dark-Haired Guy said he owed me a favor for some reason, but he'd pay it later, and disappeared into thin air as I lunged for him for tackle-glomping-ness. XP The Blond Guy comforted me saying that I could tackle him anytime I wanted, then offered to take us on a beach vacation. And that woulda kicked ass, so I accepted. He owned this really ritzy condo on the beachfront and gave me the keys. I'm out on the deck one night and POOF, there's Jerry, the Blond Guy, and the Mysterious Dark-Haired Guy who tell me it's my job to go to superhero school and save the world. OMGWTFBBQ? Anyway, they hand me a school ID and all three of them decide to escort me there against my will (because I keep telling them that I'm a pacifist and I don't wanna fight and I'll sleep with Jerry if he'll take away my powers, which he stops and considers, but decides not to).

So they drop me off at this beautiful magic castle that's hidden a bit down the beach, with beautiful gardens and stuff, and I forgive them all for dragging me there because it's so lovely. Of course, I skip class and poke around the gardens and beach instead. The Blond Guy keeps appearing to tell me that it's not a good thing to skip class, but he really doesn't do anything to enforce it. In fact, he's riding around the boardwalk on a bike and sitting on the sand watches the waves come in. So I decide to hang around with him. BUT SUDDENLY, there's an evil ghost attacking and The Mysterious Dark-Haired Guy shows up, telling me that I can beat him because of magnetic... stuff. I don't understand it at all. But the Blond Guy said I had control over metal itself, not magnetism. Again, I don't get it at all. Jerry shows up and dispatches the ghost, then instructs me to get to gym class. I go in and people attack me with fucking swords. D: I immediately crumple them like tinfoil. The Blond Guy, wanting to play some more, says, "Okay, enough gym for the day. Let's go have recess!" So we trot off to the beach to mess around some more.

Jerry and The Mysterious Dark-Haired Guy follow after, complaining that I should be at school and I'll never learn how to use my powers right. We completely ignore them and go to the movies to watch Snakes on a Plane again. But I get miffed at some girl there who's apparently been picking on me and storm out. Jerry offers to seal her in a dark hellish dimension from which there is no escape, and I decide he's nice for offering, but I settle for fucking with her mind from afar thanks to The Mysterious Dark-Haired Man's apparent telepathic mindfuckery powers.

I like these guys. Jerry and The Mysterious Dark-Haired Man are kinda bossy, though. D:

God dammit, why can't my friends in my dreams exist in real life? The situations in which they appear wouldn't have to happen, but I'd just love to meet them. Particularly Nosey, John, and the three guys from today. FRIIIIIIIIENDS. *makes grabby hands*

Happy 300!

Not that anybody besides me ever reads this blog. Nevertheless, happy 300!

I've been scribbling down more origin-story for Glow Girl and Cooney. For about the past two or three hours, plotting out various possible meetings for them. So far, I like the one where Cooney intrudes upon Glow Girl being jumped by some thug-chicks and then gives them a very cheery piss-off message. "You've all got a ten-second head-start. Tallyho!"

He's such a dork, but I like writing about him. XP

I can't wait for September to come--September will be far more interesting. Who concerts! Possible trip to a Renaissance faire! Possible train trip across the country completely alone! But most importantly--the Who concerts.

Like I've mentioned--I don't care if I have to hitchhike to Baltimore and sit outside the venue begging for entry, I'm going! If only it's just to be in the same airspace as those guys. I'd also like to try to go to a Stones concert. I had a chance last year, but I had surgery that day. Fortunately, the nifty social studies teacher brought be a bracelet as a souvenir, because she remembered I liked the Stones and I was the smartest one in the class. :D She liked me. So she rewarded me with it.

But it'd be nothing like seeing the real guys in concert, ne?

I'm so bored.

There's nothing to do on the Intarnetz, there's nothing on TV, I've read all of my books several times this summer, it's too late to go on a walk, too early to go to sleep, and the only thing I can think of to amuse myself is writing more pointless fanfiction. Which I might go and do.

And I might cook dinner. Yeah, it's late, but for some reason, I haven't been very hungry today. All I've had since I got up at 2:30 was a veggie burger and some Fresca pop.

I had a dream that I was suddenly whisked back to Woodstock, and it was the best thing ever in the history of the world. ♥ Both John and The Guy with the Big Nose (Who has yet to tell me his bloody name!) tagged along. HUZZAH!

Then, I had a dream that I went to Ohtori Academy from Utena and was picked to be a duelist. But I refused, being a pacifist and all. The Guy with the Big Nose eagerly took my place. He was better at fisticuffs than with swordfights. He didn't really have a noble princely heart like I apparently did (I don't think I'm noble at all!) so his attempts to get the Sword of Dios failed.

Then I remember we were trying to hitchhike somewhere, but we were stuck at South of the Border in South Carolina. Godawfully tacky place, that is--the only reason we go back at all is because they sell good, cheap, illegal-in-North-Carolina fireworks in bulk. Anyway, John and Nosey kept trying to score rides from truckers. John won one by offering one trucker some free McDonald's. Which was scored from a dumpster, actually... but we got the ride, dammit, and that's what matters. Somehow, we had leapt from 1969 back to 2006 and we discovered that all that was in the field was a "gravestone", memorializing the event.

So Nosey, John, and I decided we would go and try to throw another one. :D *loves on John and Nosey*

I need a haircut. It's gettin' a bit shaggy. Chin-length is good for me; it keeps it out of my face while I'm out wandering around or standing on roadsides waiting for the traffic to clear.

I've been scribblin' down an origin story for Glow Girl and Cooney. They're so fun to write. Cooney rescues Glow Girl from anti-mutant militants and is just about to beat the shit out of the main attacker, but Glow Girl glomps him to prevent him from doing further damage, insisting that if Cooney were to beat him senseless, it wouldn't do any good for the mutant cause. And now she's tagging along with him no matter what he tries to get rid of her. XD

I'd like to track down some episodes of Doctor Who. Particularly the ones with the fourth Doctor--he looks like a right nutter.

I think Dad might have some episodes on VHS, but I'm not sure. He's got just about everything on a tape somewhere or another--a Who concert, Thin Lizzy concerts, James Bond movies, The Little Mermaid, lots of other stuff.

We've even got that shitty "Cartoon All-Stars Save the Day!" anti-drug PSA. I'd like to know where he recorded that from. I've always wondered--at any point during the production of that picture, did somebody stop and realize, "Hey! Imaginary talking animals coming to life and popping off of posters! Riding a rollercoaster inside one's brain! THIS SOUNDS A LOT LIKE A DRUG TRIP. Hooray! We'll use this to make a point about not doing drugs! But he's not hallucinating at all. His sister is sane, even though she sees this shit happening. Her brother's crazy and whacked out on drugs because he lit up a joint. But his sister is sane, although she appears to be having severe unaided hallucinations."

Got to Eckerd's and back... took nearly two hours. XD Most of that was spent waiting to cross the bloody street.

I left a blue God's Eye hanging on the railing at the Arran Lake Baptist Church.

Not much interesting happened on this trip, sadly. Some old, grizzled biker waved and smiled at me. And somebody waved at me as their car passed me. I don't know who it was. They stuck their arm out of the window and waved at me as the car whizzed past. XP

But that was about it. D:

Last night This morning, I had a dream where I hung out at "Poor Man's Church." It was really a bunch of people gathering inside an abandoned, junky old barn and having lunch together before passing a Bible around.

And The Guy with the Big Nose was there! Yay! *does a jig* Leiko likes the Guy with the Big Nose~ ♥

The sore throat seems to be gone for now. Huzzah!

I'm about to go up to Eckerd. I'm just gonna wait about 10 minutes and see if the clouds go away. And if they don't, I'll just take my umbrella with me and pray there's no lightning. XP

I'm lugging along my yarn, safety scissors, and popsicle sticks, along with about 6 already-made God's Eyes--two each of red, green, and blue.

Think I'll also take along my straw hat. ♥ I'd left it at Mom's house and got it back last week, along with the fake-rose crown that we got at Medieval Times about two years back. I like wearing it. It keeps the sun out of my eyes, and it makes me look nice. :D

And for the hell of it, I stuffed Dad's old Bible in as well. I'm not terribly sure why. It's one of those ones with the words of Jesus in red print. I dunno why I picked it up and stuffed it in, but I figure it'd be nice to have.

My throat is sore. I hope this fixes itself by tomorrow morning. Not that I have anything important to chat about tomorrow. I just don't like having a sore throat. Hard to swallow, y'know, and I spend most of my days chugging either water or Coke.

I've made another batch of God's Eyes. I hope I'm feeling more energetic tomorrow, so I can go and hang them up outside.

Also: Today I'm obsessed with Pink Floyd's The Wall. Disc 2. I dunno why.

I took a short nap. For some reason, the dream I had was extremely vivid; I felt like I was actually AWAKE and all of this was really happening. Felt like I was actually moving and stuff.

It wasn't anything cool, though, like having steamy adventures with The Guy With the Big Nose and the Surfer-Whose-Name-I-Think-is-John.

There was just a yardsale out in the front yard and Dad was selling everything, including the entertainment center and the flat-screen TVs.

And I felt like I was writing something in my dreams--sloppily--and it was almost like I could feel the paper on my hand... but there wasn't even a notebook around my bed, really. I remember writing something about Cooney from the Starchildren story. O_o

Oh, why couldn't it have been the Guy With the Big Nose and John instead?

Today also would've been Grandma Silsi's 68th birthday.

The connection between Gram and I is a bit strange. Gram was the family loony--she collected a lot of yard-sale junk, had about a hundred clocks on one wall, hadn't remodeled the house on Lacon Road since the 1970s, and cussed like a sailor sometimes. And everybody says that we look and act exactly alike. It kind of creeps me out. Perhaps I was never actually BORN, but cloned...? Or perhaps I'm her doppelganger?

Both family eccentrics. Extremely similar taste in music. We look alike (except I wear glasses and, obviously, I'm younger). Similar behavior.

It's very, very creepy when you stop to think on it for awhile.

Gram's birthday, Woodstock Anniversary... do you think it has some kind of cosmic connection?

The Dark-Haired Surfer Guy showed up again. X3 I think he said his name was John.

I was stuck in this stuffy boarding-school place and he was one of the only people I could think of to come and bail me out, so I called him and he infiltrated the place. (He wore a sailor's hat and some tight-assed bellbottoms. :D It was hot.) He wandered into the cafeteria where I was picking at some food, passed around some naked pictures of brunettes to distract the snitchy boys around me, and we escaped in his station wagon. XDDDDD Then the wagon broke down, so we walked through the woods and discussed where we would live without the station wagon. We decided we would go back to his big old house and open it up to other people--whoever wanted to come and go. A hippie/surfer crash pad, y'know?

But first, we had to hitch a ride back there. XP And that's what we were doing when I woke up. Bah! I didn't wanna wake up.


I wanted to go wander around town today passing out the God's Eyes and wishing peace upon mankind, but I'm not feeling up to going anywhere past the kitchen. I'm tired. Damn you, Week of Massive Bleeding, damn you!

Happy Woodstock Anniversary, everyone! ♥

I'm tired, but I can't go to sleep.

My head feels crowded, but it's amazingly light and clear.

I'm sure of what I want in life, but I'm not really all that sure.

I dunno what my deal is.

What I want out of life is simple: I don't want money, I don't want a big car, a big house, lots of televisions, children, or even a husband. All I want is to spread a bit of peace and goodwill on to my neighbors in this world. And I want to travel. (Those little side-daydreams of meeting Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey, and Mick Jagger will most likely have to remain daydreams. Nice daydreams, but daydreams nonetheless.)

But that's all I want. I don't want to bother with money, I don't want to bother with having a house or a job. I could live in a shack on a mountaintop for all I care. In fact, I might. It'd be all the better for me--to clear my mind, to get away from people. I love all people, but people don't seem to like me very much at all. Maybe I'll be a nun. Or work at a Buddhist retreat. Or move overseas and hang out in India or something like that.

I'd like to live like Jesus did, really. Traveling around dispensing wisdom and words of love to all people, depending on what God gives me to survive. That's the kind of stuff Jesus talked about. It's written in red in Dad's old dusty Bible. I'm sure I'd get more hurlers than helpers in this quest, though.

I'm a dreamer. But I don't want to end up like all the other dreams--cynical, bitter, angry, jaded. I want to remain a dreamer. I want to carry on connecting with God through connecting with other people. I don't want to wake up when I'm 30 and realize that I've got a two-story house in WASP-topia with 1.8 kids, two dogs, a gas-guzzling SUV, and debt up to my eyeballs. I don't want any of that to come into my life. All I'd like is the road, a tent, my yarn and popsicle sticks to make my good-luck charms, and a message to pass on to people. I wanna get back to a life where money doesn't matter; I'd like to look at people with kindness and trust rather than suspicion and paranoia (as is so commonplace these days!)

And that's all I want from my life. I don't ask anything more--though perhaps a true friend or two wouldn't be amiss.

A Conversation with Karen:

"Please tell me you didn't just get up. D:"
"No, I've been up for a few hours."
"Why are you still in your pajamas?"
"I changed out of my pajamas and into this (teddy-bear jammies)."
"Those are still pajamas..."
"Yeah."
"Don't drink the last Diet Coke."
"'Kay."

Yeah, I've been up a few hours and I've been wearing fresh jammies since I got out of the shower. We weren't going anywhere today (I don't think), I need to do laundry, and I just didn't feel like squishing into a pair of jeans today if I wasn't going to go out and do anything worthwhile. Better that if I stay inside, I wear inside-clothes instead of messing up my nice clothes.

I don't remember much about last night's dreams, except I was in the old ghetto trailer park we lived in when I was in sixth and seventh grade. And I kept wandering around through the sand (the grass never grew all that great there) alone until some blond guy came following me. Nyaa! I wanted to see the Guy with the Big Nose and the Dark-Haired Surfer Guy again. Come back, Nosey and Surfer Guy! *makes grabby hands*

I am crazy in love with this song (Little Wing). Again. *___*

I grew up hearing this song--the Stevie Ray Vaughan version--and it just kinda blended into the background. But now that I've actually listened to the Jimi Hendrix version and listened to the lyrics and the tune... it's more than any Beatles song, any Who song, any Doors song, anything I've ever listened to. It makes me feel, all the same time, happy and floating, but also like I'm sinking and sad... Jimi was a magician. I think all musicians are secretly magicians who choose to use their magic with guitars and microphones and records. We've all got the magic of music. Kind and soft magic, rough and wild magic. I'm glad that the magic was sealed forever onto records for those who have vanished from this world.

That way, those of us who were born far too late can still feel it and learn it.

http://community.livejournal.com/scans_daily/2248837.html?view=76258437#t76258437

*crazy fangirl shriek*

THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER. IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD.

Lobo as a hippie! Obscure musical references! YELLOW SUBMARINE ART! BLUUUUUUUE MEANIE! (Yes, there is one.)

*more crazy fangirl squeeing*

*flails*

*faints with crazy fangirl joy*

Is it bedtime yet?

I wanna go back to sleep. I'm tired. Thank you, Female Anatomy. D: Argh.

Since it's too early to go back to bed, I'm going to go munch on something sweet and watch TV. Hooray!

Waaah! I wanted The Guy with the Big Nose to show up last night this morning, but he never did. *SNIFFLE!*

Instead, my dream-friends this time were a robot who strongly resembled Bender from Futurama and some dark-haired surfer guy who split his time between a very large white house and a junky little station wagon. He was nice, though; I really liked him. We rode around town in his junky little station wagon. I don't know what he was doing in Fayetteville, because we're two hours from the ocean, and about 3,000 miles away from any GOOD waves. Unless there's a hurricane.

Anyway, the Bender lookalike stepped out early to go find a liquor store (see? I told you he was like Bender!) and we went to this restaurant inside a gigantic platform tent. It was something like "Amazon Cuisine". WTF? Bugs and leaves? I dunno, we were too busy fooling around with the other patrons to eat, then we skipped out on the bill by sliding through an open back flap of the tent. I liked that guy. He was silly. ♥ Though I wish The Guy with the Big Nose would come back, too. OLLOLOLOLOLOLOL CN NE1 SAY 3SUM?

*coughs*

Anyway, The Surfer Guy decided we'd blow off this Important Photoshoot he had in the morning and we'd take a vacation in the raggedy-ass station wagon. To where, we didn't know. Destination isn't what's important, it's the journey. *nods sagely* It was cool, though. *glomps Surfer Guy* ♥

P.S.: I would be out hanging my God's Eyes on trees, but I don't feel like moving any further than the kitchen. Happy Week of Massive Bleeding, everyone. *passes out*

I drew a picture of The Guy with the Big Nose. For some reason, an anime style (which is what I usually draw in) didn't work with him, so I wound up having to draw him in a semi-realistic style. He looks okay--for me having drawn it. XP

For some bizarre reason, I'm highly pleased with the way his mouth came out. I suck at drawing mouths. But his came out all right, and I rejoice.

He's got kind of this "Bitch please" look... kinda crossed with a look of concern... it's an odd look, really, but it fits him. ♥

I kinda wish The Guy with the Big Nose really existed. He's cool. XP Like I said, he needs a little whipping-into-shape, but he's nifty. ♥

Also: I have the sudden urge to listen to Billy Idol. o_O

REBEL YELL! XD

A Random Thought:

I've heard people defending comedy based on stereotypes by using "It's social commentary--it's striking at stereotypes by enforcing them!"

I don't get it, honestly. Maybe I'm just stupid or something, but isn't enforcing stereotypes supposed to be--y'know--not-nice? Aren't we supposed to avoid stereotyping? You know, you could exaggerate the stereotype, or play against it, and that would be amusing. But merely enforcing stereotypes and forcing people into those types... I don't get it. What's supposed to be so striking about it?

And if we're going to try and enforce old stereotypes, why can't we bring back those old Bugs Bunny cartoons where he would dress up in blackface makeup and fuck around with people? Because, y'know, that's enforcing stereotypes, and Bugs Bunny is funny, ain't he?

I dunno. Maybe I just don't have as good a sense of humor as I thought. Or maybe I'm just dumb.

At any rate, I'd like to see Bugs Bunny and the other Looney Tunes back on TV. I'm sick of watching what they've got on Cartoon Network now, and even Boomerang is starting to air not-yet-classic cartoons (Dexter's Lab--which, while it's a good show, isn't a classic yet--What's New Scooby Doo?, Pokemon, that kind of stuff). Bah! Bah, I say!

I really don't know where I'm going with this so yeah.

Twenty-three God's Eyes... somebody needs to come and restrain me physically from making these things, I swear. I've got an entire bagful of popsicle sticks and two rolls of yarn and I've not stopped making them for the past two or three hours. 14 red, 5 green, two blue, one yellow, one brown and white. And more on the way.

Somebody needs to tie my hands or something. O_o

I hope it's sunny tomorrow. Think I'll go on a walk and get rid of 'em by givin' 'em to other people.

Also: I have this very strange urge to go up to a complete and total stranger, hug them tightly, and then vanish into the night.

WTF self.

I had a dream that I got to see the Who. And it kicked a hundred different kinds of ass. :D I got autographs from Pete and Rog. X3 RAWK. It would be the awesomest thing ever if my dreams came true. Now if only I could find a replica of the building from my dream!

Then the Guy With the Big Nose showed up (damn, I wish I knew his name) and we wandered around a town, lost, for several hours. Finally, we went into this maze-ish house and somehow wound up in the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth was dying and needed someone to solve it--or something like that--and The Guy with the Big Nose solved it (because I plainly suck at solving mazes. I can't even solve the maze on the back of the Captain Crunch box) and was proclaimed king, but he abdicated and followed me back to the real world. Why, I don't know. The Labyrinth would be a much cooler place to live. And besides, you could lure random cute chicks down there.

Then we wound up back in the town--which seemed to be floating on a vast lake--and got lost again. Finally, we decided to just roof it for the night and came upon the Gargoyles from the TV show. XP The Guy with the Big Nose had an argument with them and they threw us out. So we went to a junky little motel and he taught me how to sing. XP I wish I could sing in real life! Then I would have a skill that I could actually be proud of.

I wish I could have kept dreaming--I liked it. ♥ But Karen woke me up with some very loud action movie. BAH. D:<>

Fourteen bloody God's Eyes... XP And counting! I'm on a productive streak. I can't concentrate on anything but daydreams and making the God's Eyes and wandering around the street.

I should really start hanging them up on random trees and signs. That sounds like it'd be so cool. Though maybe I should get a pen and write what they're for on the sticks.

The counselor who taught me how to make them seven years ago told me that they were good-luck charms. I figure everybody else could use some good luck. I need some myself, but I'll take the back burner and give my apportioned good luck to others. X3

I'm hungry. D: But I can't go cooking anything here at 4:15 without waking Karen and Dad up, so it'll have to wait. Bah~

I found a video of Pete with the Grateful Dead. There's people you don't think of in the same thought!

And I found a video of the Who from about a month back doing Baba O'Riley. They're still the best bloody musicians to walk the Earth, I swear. ♥ Roger's still got a great set of pipes, Pete's still the best living guitarist, and Zak's a fab drummer as well (at least, I think it was Zak, I'm not totally sure). Nyaa~ I so wanna see them when they pop over here! *does the Happy Fangirl Dance of Wishful Glee*

Face Dances Part Two is all kinds of happy happy squee.

...

But I found the video, and Jesus, it's creepy. Those robots, I mean. Pete going through his morning routine is adorable, but those robots are gonna give me nightmares. D: Though one of them reminds me of Crow from Mystery Science Theater 3000.

*does a little dance*

Also: For some reason, I'm obsessed with making God's Eyes lately. You know those little diamond-shaped yarn-and-popsicle-stick things? I haven't made them in about seven years, but I've lately been making them feverishly. I've got about 10 of the bloody things sitting next to me. Maybe I'll go outside tomorrow with some scissors and thread and hang them up from random trees and signs and mailboxes.

I'm having fun writing about Cooney and Glow Girl so far. Cooney's hanging out in a tree watching Glow Girl and making sure the mutant-bashers don't get to her or her raver friends. Then he falls out and nearly scrambles his head, Glow Girl follows him around the park, and comments about his X-ray vision.

"You live in a world full of crazily-powered mutants--telepathy and flight and telekinesis and all that--and you never expect to meet someone who can see through walls. It always seems like such a science fictiony power, doesn't it?"

Because seriously, who the fuck needs the fourth wall? XP

I was just going through some old papers and character profiles from now-defunct stories, and I found something from a few years ago that's immensely amusing now: an Acid Queen! She was a butterfly girl who spat poison. I hadn't ever heard the Who song--indeed, I didn't know diddly shit about Tommy--but now, looking back, it amuses me that I ever had a character named for someone I didn't know existed. XP

She was a part of this group that's a big part of my baby, Carpe Noctem. The Wonderland Circus, full of demons and specters that feed off of happiness and daydreams. The Acid Queen was originally the acrobat and the girl who guided people through the House of Mirrors, but that role was given to another bug-girl, Arachne (obviously, a spider).

There were various reasons for scrapping The Acid Queen. One: Her character design! I usually draw out a couple of comic pages to get an idea of where I'd like to go with my folks, and I sincerely wonder what acid I was on to want to draw her the way she was. She was too damn hard to draw. Arachne, though, is easy--white skin, red eyes, black braids, short black dress, blue cloth belt, striped tights, no shoes. Simple! Two: The Wonderland Circus actually took a turn from "cheerful circus not knowing they're doing wrong" to "disturbing bunch of spooks who trap people inside and suck their souls out." Acid Queen was too cheery.

In other news:

Bah! I hate Friday nights. There's never anything on TV and never anybody to talk to.

Why am I having so many serious dreams lately? I wanna have silly, cracktacular dreams with handsome hippie men again! *whines*

I had a dream about the guy with the big nose again. I went back to school for some unknown reason and he followed me around. I got lost trying to get to class and got in trouble for being late, and the guy got in trouble for fighting. So we wound up in detention and decided to break out and go piss people off in other classes. Some people bitched at me and picked on me, so the guy with the big nose beat the shit out of them and we both got thrown out of school. The latter part was fine with me, but I scolded the guy for doing it. He rolled his eyes and said he was sorry, but I don't think he really meant it. XP Dork.

Then we went to a summer camp or something and nobody wanted me in their cabin. So we spent our nights scaring people shitless and then taking their beds and lockin' the doors after they ran off screaming. That was pretty cool. XP

I like the guy with the big nose. X3 Although he does need some whipping-into-shape in some places. I wonder what his name is?

Bah, I can't find my pencil. D: I don't wanna start writing with a new one until the one I was already using is worn down. *nod*

I'm obsessed with making God's Eyes lately. You know those little things you make at summer camp, with the yarn and the popsicle sticks? Yeah. I've got about eight of those made in the past few hours. Maybe I'll leave them dangling from random trees or signs and let people wonder. God needs to keep an eye on other people as well, y'know. XP

Dad and Karen and Whatshisname are going up to Raleigh tomorrow to drop Whatshisname off at the airport. I've got the house to myself again! *Does a gleeful jig*

I was gonna go, but we would have to wake up at 5something, so that wasn't gonna happen. D: Too early~

A nice lady on an LJ Who community loaned me her copy of All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes. I've been listening to Exquisitely Bored for an exceptionally long time. O___o I don't know what it is, but I've fallen madly in love with that song. OMGWTFBBQ.

Just got up from a good, long nap.

I had a somewhat creepy dream. O_o The guy with the big nose from before dragged me to a circus and into a funhouse. I fell through this little hole in the ground and into an oubliette. And because I'm extremely claustrophobic, I started freaking the fuck out... until I realized that the oubliette was really a gigantic cloth bag. So I whipped out my ever-present toenail clippers and managed to stab through with the fingernail-cleaner-thingy. The guy with the big nose was all "Where the fuck did YOU go?" He seemed worried, and immediately dragged me out onto the highway so we could hitchhike out of there because we didn't think that circus had anything good in mind for us. Someone in a yellow old Volkswagen bug stopped and HOLY SHIT it was Jim Morrison. Still babbling his mystic one-liners and driving about as well as I do.

In other news:

I'd like to request any spare thoughts, prayers, and voodoo you have for my next-door neighbor, Brian. We're not totally sure what happened, but he's been in the neurological intensive care unit all day, and since he's pretty much My New Big Brother, we're panicking and hoping he gets better soon. Dad thinks it might be an aneurysm.

I hope he turns out okay. Though I don't like him all that much, he's getting to be kinda like an extra big brother... who happens to really enjoy blowing things up. And I'd like him to get better, because it must suck to be in the neurological ICU.

Back at Dad's.

We went to the Healthplex and some old lady sat around talking to me. I liked her. She kept talking about peace and how violence won't solve a damn thing. I think she was me from the future. Or something. At any rate, she was cooler than most people my age. ♥ Hooray for the old lady!

Then she wandered off to find her friends at the pool.

We went to the little coffee shop in Target for lunch. I had a little cheese pizza and Gram had a turkey sandwich. Some guy with a bass clef tattooed on his arm kept taste-testing the different Icee flavors, before he just gave up and mixed 'em all together. I should try that sometime; it sounds really good. (I already make up mixes with plain old soda. I've never tried it with Icees.)

*hums and dances*

I think I might ask Gram if we can make going to the HealthPlex a weekly thing. I know that she does it every week, but I wonder if she would mind terribly much picking me up and taking me along. I need something to kill time until I get my braces off and I can GO. And I think that swimming and all those other things Gram does twice a week would be good for me.

Random fact: I'm the only one in this house who can pick up the dog without difficulty. My mother was once in the Army and used to lug around gigantic rucksacks for several hours at a time, and Jared CURRENTLY does that.

Me, who has had no strength training at all, can easily pick Sarge up and even carry him across the house.

Maybe I've seekritly got super-strength. That would be pretty cool. Now, if only I could fly!

In other news:

This image of my two favorite Starchildren (Glow Girl and Cooney) keeps dancing through my head: Cooney doing something silly and playful and tackling Glow Girl. Glow Girl beating Cooney repeatedly over the head with a rolled-up newspaper.

I have no idea why it's Cooney. Cooney's the type to jump on Glow playfully, but Glow isn't really the type to wail on him with the Sunday New York Times.

If she was gonna whack anyone with a newspaper, it would be Jim. XP

So far, in the story, Glow Girl has made jewelry at a rave and Cooney has followed her around trying to score. What a dork. XP

Most of my childhood memories relate, in some way, to music. If it weren't for some songs, I would have no memory at all from childhood. I guess it was just that dull and the music made it seem livelier.

The first five songs I ever remember hearing:

1) The Hall of the Mountain King--Savatage. This is Dad's favorite song, ever. He played it non-bloody-stop when we were little, and I still like it a lot. Especially Jon Oliva's evil laughter and screaming. We're currently on a quest to find a downloadable version of the music video.

2) Crazy Train--Ozzy Osbourne. "Maybe, it's not too late... to learn how to love, and forget how to haaaaaate!" Dad's a bigtime Ozzy fan, too. This was the song that usually lulled me to sleep as a kid. Fuck "Rock-a-bye Baby." Ozzy was what made me feel calm enough to sleep.

3) Iron Man--Black Sabbath. I remember all of the guitar parts. I didn't know the words when I was little, but I remember Tony Iommi's work perfectly. Good Lord, I wish I could play the guitar like he can! But I wanna keep my fingers. :P

4) The Boys are Back in Town--Thin Lizzy. Thin Lizzy's a great band. Fuck U2; I think Thin Lizzy is the best Irish band to ever walk this particular planet! Phil Lynott was a good songwriter, had a lovely voice, and was a good bassist. This is still my brother's favorite song.

5) Enter Sandman--Metallica. To this day, this is the only Metallica song I know. And I love it, especially the intro part and the part where the little kid is praying (for death?) It's a delightfully evil song, it is.

Grandma was the only one who ever tried with lullabies, and I never responded to them as far as I remember. I would only fall asleep if Ozzy was wailing away, or Jon Oliva was screaming, or so on.

I kind of vaguely remember hearing Baba O'Riley once in awhile as a tot, but it was never played as frequently as the others (perhaps because Dad's copy of Who's Next is the most battered thing we own; seriously, if I take the record out of the jacket one more time, the cover will probably split in half and crumble into dust). But I remember how familiar it sounded when I purchased my Deluxe Edition CD copy and popped it in the player. I can't really tell you where I heard it before if Dad never played it. Maybe I'm Keith reincarnated and it's a memory from a life I never lived? What the hell do I know.

I had a dream that I was locked in a store with some other people. It was weird. It was like ZOMG END OF THE WORLD!!!!!1!!!1! outside. Meteors and comets and stuff falling from the sky. ON FIRE. But the music store was safe, so me and some other people piled inside to wait it out.

I don't remember much else, except there was a guy with a big nose that kept getting into fights with some other guy (the other guy always started it). I would keep grabbing his shirt and restraining him. He would calm down and stop, then the cycle would begin again. Silly, silly person.

Then I dragged him off to a Mexican restaurant after the meteor storm thing was done and tied him to a chair so he wouldn't get into fights. XP

Jerry died 11 years ago today. *SNIFF* I miss him, though I haven't known who he was for even a year now. I still developed a huge attachment to him even over just a few months of fan-hood. And I wish he was still around.

In other news:

Dad always says that Gram and Mum just wanna keep me at eight years old forever. I don't think that's true; I think Dad might have that plan, though. Dad never trusts me to go anywhere on my own for more than an hour. But Mum! Mum and I just got done researching trains to Minnesota, where I might spend a week or two with complete strangers from my stepfamily. She says that I'm 18, I should go have my own adventures if I want.

She's also offered to buy a ticket and bus ticket to the nearest Who concert (so far, it's either Baltimore or Atlantic City). And she trusts me to do all of this stuff alone!

Dad says that they don't want me to grow up since they buy me Slinkies for Christmas (Slinkies rock, stfu) and don't force me to drive when I don't want to (they know that driving gives me the panic attacks). He says it's a plot to keep me in their houses.

But it's not true; they want me to go out into the world on my own for awhile and make my own decisions and mistakes. And I think that's their way of letting me grow up, rather than trying to force it on me like Dad and Karen often do.

Gram and Mum think that by doing the things I do and learning the things I learn, I'll eventually grow into the person I want to be, rather than the person that everybody else wants me to be. They're a little miffed at times that I'm obsessed with living on no dollars a day, but they think that I'll be what I'll be. Que sera, sera. And they think that'll be good, no matter what I end up being.

I wonder what it would be like to eat an eyeball.

Would it be all squishy like jello, or would it be like eating a meatball?

What would it taste like?

Would it be tough or would it go down easily?

And would the retinas get caught in your teeth?

Sometimes I wonder why I hold out so much hope for the world.

It shows me every day that things are getting worse. People are going hungry. Wars are breaking out. The environment is fucked. Music sucks. Nobody cares.

Few inspirational things seem to happen anymore. Now human kindness of the typical, every-day sort seems like it's the stuff of urban legends and chainmails. It probably happens and I just don't see it anywhere.

I wonder why I love the world so much and why I keep trying to help and why I keep hoping.

And, like I told Andy, I honestly don't know the answer.

At Mom's now.

I got my braces all fixed up. I picked turquiose for the colors; I considered getting blue, red, and gray. Just to show off my Who nerditude.

Mom says that Jared's family invited me to stay up with them for the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. That would be all kinds of awesome. She said that if the Who went anywhere near Minnesota, they'd probably take me to see 'em. SA-WEET. I might go, if Dad says I can. I'd take a train up there. (I'm airplane-a-phobic.)

Saw something I've never seen before: Someone driving a car and smoking a pipe at the same time. You never see anyone smokin' pipes nowadays. It's either cigarettes or bongs.

Mom says Josh got mugged on tour. Bah! If I'd been there, I coulda been his bodyguard. But he never called me back.

I had a weird dream last night. o_O I was a member of some creepy evil religious group that had a weird fixation around blood. A deep cut in the shape of a plain old cross appeared on my left index finger, and for some reason, I decided that that meant I had to leave. I hid in this place that was a little church downstairs and a shared apartment-house upstairs. (It was an apartment with a living room and kitchen downstairs and a few shared rooms upstairs.) The lady who ran it--a dark-haired woman named Lynette--decided to hide me from the group I left, because they were gonna come after me and sacrifice me to their evil dragon-god.

Cooney (a character I'd designed for the Starchildren fanfic) himself appeared in my dream as some guy who slept in the bathtub upstairs at the church. XD He was silly. He volunteered to be my bodyguard, because he had mad fighting skillz.

Of course, the group I left started coming after me, disguised as black cats (because they knew I wouldn't ignore an animal that was in trouble). As soon as they were over the threshold of the house, though, they would change into human form and lunge at me with sacrificial knives. Cooney and Lynette would set up magic barriers and protect me. I liked them. ♥

It was kinda weird, though. I'm not used to having dreams like that. I'm used to having silly, cute dreams where I have fabulous adventures with imaginary friends. This one was almost real, and seemed very familiar. Odd. It wasn't really a nightmare or anything like that. It was just... more serious than they usually are.

Funky.

Dear Fellow Who Fans:

I love you all dearly, really, I do.

But who the hell are Pete Townsend, John Entwhistle, Rodger Daltry (or whatever other weird permutation of his name you've managed to come up with), and Kieth Moon? Are these the Pod People? They are not my awesome screaming crazy rock gods, at any rate. No, their names are Pete Townshend, John Entwistle, Roger Daltrey, and Keith Moon. The crazy-but-deep guitarist, the crazy-quiet-eccentric-gawthy-one, the mild-Napoleon-complex-one, and the utterly-batshit-insane-drummer.

Please, people; spellcheck.

Love,

Leiko

P.S.: Why does nobody ever post pictures from Lisztomania? Because that movie wins at life.