Got all scheduled for my test, bought a new pair of thigh-high black-and-white striped socks, blah blah blah.

The real news is I'VE GOT MY WHO TICKETS! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!1!!!!!1!!!11! Section 307, row L, seat 10. :D It's kind of far off to the left of the stage, but dammit, I'll BE there, and that's what's important. Also, I've a way to manage to wander around the arena. I'm a sneaky little witch, y'know. Now I just have to see if Dad can convince Uncle Johnny into letting me crash at his place for the night.

*does the Joyful Dance of Who Love*

And maybe if my ninja skills are up to scratch, I'll seekritly sneak out and lurk out back. Just to lurk out back. I rather seriously doubt I'll catch a ROADIE for an autograph, let alone Pete, Roger, Zak, Simon, and everyone else. But it'd be nice just to lurk out in the bushes to see them a bit closer than I could on stage. (STFU. I'm not a creepy fangirl. NOT NOT NOT.)

In other news: I had a dream that I wandered into a summer camp looking for food and water, but was cast out very rudely by a "Christian" owner of the camp. D: He yelled at me and gave me three minutes before he set the dogs on my heatheny little arse. D: It wasn't the most pleasant dream I've ever had, but Baba magically descended from out of nowhere and helped me out. Hooray for Meher Baba! Super-Avatar!

We're going to the mall today. :D I only go to the mall a few times a year, but I always enjoy going, just to be around the people there. Also, BOOKSTORE! Yay! I love the bookstore. ♥ It's so fun there, and you always hear something amusing--last time I heard a couple of people arguing about the historical accuracy of Silver Ravenwolf. I'm sure Mama Silver is a very nice woman and a joy to be around, but she isn't really the best historian when it comes to Wicca. It amused me very much.

We're also going to Hot Topic to see if they've got black and red tights or socks or something. They usually have a decent selection of stripey legwear. Huzzah! I didn't find my socks at Dad's. D: So there went that...

In other news, tomorrow, we're going to see the FTCC people about taking the damn test already. I wanna see my boys! I have to hurry up and get my bus seat reserved, buy my ticket, and beg Johnny to let me stay over at his house for a couple of nights. *nods* Lots to do between now and December 11.

I made a cute LJ Halloween icon, whittled down from a page of Tarot: Witch of the Black Rose. It was from a scene where four vampire cheerleaders were doing very naughty things with Boo Cat the were-catgirl. It was hot. XP But I only clipped out one of the happy vampires for the icon. I don't think I could squeeze the awesomeness of a lesbian orgy into a 100x100 space... pity. (What? I like lesbians.)

Anyway, I went to Dad's earlier and retrieved most of my music. I couldn't dig up my copy of With the Beatles or my Ringo CDs, though. D: There were, like, 8 large boxes full of CDs, and I didn't wanna keep Mum waiting out in the car, so I just got MOST of my music and took it home.

Also tweaked my costume some. I'm going to some festival thingo with my grandma this weekend, and they're having a costume contest--I'm going to give this a test-run. I clipped off the old wings that I made by hand (they turned out terrible!) and replaced them with nice store-bought glittery devil wings. And I still can't find my black and red socks, but I did find my black and white striped socks, and they're okay for now... though I would've liked to have the black and red thigh-highs instead. They don't slump down so far as these socks do.

I got some spraypaint, too, so I'm going to fix up my shoes before I go, too. Just gotta wait for sunrise... XD It's been raining all day, so I couldn't really paint them when I got home from Wal-mart.

In other news: Only a few days until Endless Wire! SQUEE! *bounces up and down happily* Also, I must get my tickets for the boys soon. But even if I don't manage tickets, I'm going to hover around Columbus. I don't care how creepy that sounds. I worked hard to keep up my end of the deal with Mom, and I've got my mind made up--I wanna see Roger n' Pete n' Zak n' Simon and everyone else!

I watched a video of Zak on the Squeezebox thing on the tour website. He sounds a LOT like Ringo. *giggles fangirlishly* I love listening to both of them talking. ♥ Hell, I just love listening to British people talk, no matter what the dialect or tone of voice. British accents just melt me.

*does a jig* Today is ALREADY shaping up to be a good day. I emailed my Dad and asked him if I could come pick up my music--he said it was salvaged and cleaned quickly. OH MY BABIES, HOW I'VE MISSED YOU. *fawns over CDs* ...what? Anyway, he replied and said Brian was back home. Brian is our neighbor and Dad's only friend. A few months ago, he was hospitalized because he apparently had blood vessels strangling his spinal cord; but he's back home now, so he must be a LOT better. And as much as that guy creeps me out, I'm really happy that he's back--it's just great that he's doing well again! *dances*

I also got a package. I never get mail--hell, I rarely get email, except from TheWhoTour.com and Beliefnet's Buddhist Wisdom. But he said I got a package yesterday, and that makes me happy. Unexpected mail is one of the simplest, yet greatest pleasures one can know. Unless the package has no return address and it's ticking ominously. Then it's a right drag, but this one's apparently okay. So hooray! It's like Christmas has come early. :3

Wonder if my black and red socks are there? I need them for my Halloween costume. If they aren't there, I'll hitch a ride to the mall and visit Hot Topic. They usually have a good selection of striped legwear.

You know, Keith Moon was a terrible singer, but I love hearing him do it. He just has so much energy and enthusiasm about it, it's infectious. Even if you're feeling lazy and depressed, listening to Two Sides of the Moon can perk you right up, just feeling all that energy and the lust for life. Good Lord, if Keith were still alive today... *laughs*

So, recap: House burned down back in August, have been staying in Breeder Hell ever since.
Don't get me wrong--I love my mother. She's awesome. It's the CHYULDRUN and their Duh that I can't stand. More and more often, though, I seem to be stuck babysitting these kids. I don't know why. Yeah, I never have anything to do. I never plan my activities for the day. It's more a spur-of-the-moment thing, in which I'll wander off at random and not return for several hours just because I'm out enjoying the country scenery rather than wasting my time around Duh Supreme. I've got nothing better to do, honestly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

But here's the thing--these kids? They're in their early teens. You'd think they have sense enough to keep an eye on themselves by about 12 or 13. They know how to operate a telephone in case of emergencies. (Hell, they know the emergency numbers better than I do. The only emergency number I know for certain is 911.) They know not to swallow the stuff under the sink. They've been told not to play in traffic and not to go back into the woods and not to poke roadkill with a stick. They've been told not to hitch rides from shady-looking people, not to accept candy or rope from strangers, and not to throw a brick straight up in the air.

So where do I come in? Why do I need to stay behind and watch them, when they can function by themselves reasonably well? Hell, when my brother and I started staying home alone, we were somewhere around 8 and 10. We have not once grievously injured ourselves while home alone. We've never had shady figures come pounding on our door demanding to see us. Over the years, we learned how to take care of ourselves.

Isn't that the point of raising your damn kids? Teaching them to take care of themselves, instead of making them depend on others to take care of them every hour of the day and night? You've gotta cut the cord sometime, folks. Besides--these kids will be at school (or on the bus ride home) until about 4, and Mum will be home by then.

So what's the point?

(Really, Leiko is just bitter because she can't go to her brother's new hippie town to help him move. She's been looking forward to this for weeks now, and really wanted to see the mountains again. *sulks*)

I always seem to be the one left behind, in whatever it is. I'm being denied the fun of a road-trip to a town that I so desperately want to visit just because of Mum's stupid stepchildren. I'm never the one picked for a team. I'm never the one that's approached at parties or festivals for conversation. I often wonder, when will someone choose me? Me, above everyone else?

That's why I enjoy my dreams so much. In my dreams, I have people who would choose me every time, even if offered someone prettier, smarter, more interesting, or whatever, to hang around with. In my dreams, I'm the winner, but I never am in real life. No matter how hard I try, I'm always somehow rejected--it's just a matter of degree.




Why, hello there, Week of Massive Bleeding. I haven't missed you. D: st00pid unused reproductive system.

It's weird. I'm weird, I suppose.

I'm watching a show about Who's Next and I've almost fainted. It feels like I've got a fever and my heart is pounding at a million miles an hour. I'm told that this is what being in love is like. But what am I in love with? Music, I suppose. An era in which I never belonged, but I feel like I do. I've never felt this way about the company I tend to keep. I don't even feel this way about my own family. But whenever I hear some particular songs, or see some particular videoclips, my heart pounds, and I feel like I'm about to melt. I like the people behind these songs, but there's something bigger than them that I love as well--their spirit, I suppose, to put it very cheesily. There's something about them that's just beyond anybody I've met in this time. There's some fiery, earthy, wild spirit about the Who, the Beatles, the Doors, that nobody else has today.

Nobody that I've met, anyway.

It's a wild, unitary, beautiful spirit that they possess and share between them. It's a spirit everyone else had at one time, too, but over time, in the past 40 years, everybody has tamed it and settled into what Pete called "spoon-fed" life, a life that everybody else wants them to live. But even today, the people who are left from that fantastically wild, bizarre, scattershot era have that spirit. Roger and Pete still have that craziness that they had back then; who cares if they're old enough to be my grandfathers? They have a spirit that people that are MY age don't have. They're old and batshit insane, but in a beautiful way. It's just... gone now. Everybody my age wants to settle in and live a life centered around money and material satisfaction. Nobody wants to take risks and chances and have a little fun in their life. But those old nutjobs--the hippies, the old beat poets, the leftover Yippies, the various twelve-cylinder wackaloons--they still live their lives according to their wild unrules.

I wish I lived back then. I imagine I would have a few friends if I did.

I don't fancy myself having such a wild, fiery spirit as they do; I imagine I have a more grounded, earthy spirit. Or a watery, tranquil one. But I wish I were around people who had fire in their hearts. Everybody's so dead now--whether they really ARE stuffed in a grave or whether they're walking down the street in the beautiful autumn sunshine. They have no animation in them. They shuffle and slump and stoop and don't have any enthusiasm for their lives.

But no matter how miserable some of these older folks are, they seem to be grateful to be alive and make the most of it. You meet an old lady these days and she's been skydiving, rock-climbing, hitchhiking across the desert, everything. But you'll talk to someone my age and their life experiences extend to the couch and the DVD player. They have no ambition and no desire to chase spirit, their heart, nothing. It makes me very sad to see that everybody has just given up, and the only people I have left to relate to are in their 50s and 60s and 70s.

And the girl who prefers to hang out with old-folks is a weird one, you know? So I keep to myself instead. Nobody really wants to be my friend because I'm so strange. I've TRIED, believe me, to make some friends my age, but nobody my age (at least, around these parts) is interested in philosophy, the environment, travel, GOOD music, or generally anything I'm interested in. People my age are interested in getting laid, getting wasted, or getting shitloads of money with which to accomplish these activities. I've very little interest in getting laid, getting wasted, or getting shitloads of money.

So that makes me even more of an outcast. I try to talk to people, try to encourage them to listen to their hearts or listen to The Note, or whatever... but they'll have none of it. They're more interested in What Jimmy Did With His Girlfriend or What's Going On At Taco Bell.

I often wish I could stumble into a magical portal back to 1967 or so, so I could be with people who would listen to me or at least notice that things beyond money and rap exist. But then it occurs to me--perhaps I've got a reason for being here and now instead of there and then. And that's what keeps me moving and grooving. Perhaps I DON'T have any deeper purpose. But I like to think I do.

I'm in love, head over heels, with something that isn't even physical or material.

Am I weird?

http://www.rubbermag.com/news/0610/061019_02n.html

*shrieks*

*hyperventilates*

*shrieks again and passes out*

*coughs and gets up*

ANYWAY. I'd do just about anything to get one of those tickets. I pray my copy has one of them. Of course, the universe seems to be set against me achieving any of my dreams, but I can still hold out hope.

I got back from the fall festival at Rockfish. It was pretty cool. I didn't do much--there wasn't much TO do--but I did win a little necklace from a tic-tac-toe game. It was shaped like a fishhook. No, I'm not sure WHY it's shaped like a fishhook. But it's nice.

Talked to some pretty cool guys while I was there. One of them worked there--he suggested trying to apply pretty soon if I wanted to be a counselor. Now comes the golden question--hitching trip or summer camp? Tough call, man, tough call.

Then there was some guy with a music system. I chatted with him about music. One of the bands sounded like AC/DC. I mentioned that and he said, "Well, this is all Christian music." I replied, "Well, I didn't figure you were sitting around here playing 'Highway to Hell.'"

The last guy was named Jeff, and he was cool. We shared costuming tips, chatted about Halloween, and played with the fire. I liked him. He was nice. He said he was going as the Big Bad Wolf and shared tips for modifying a mask. (It's kind of weird--I had a dream about a guy in a big bad wolf mask last week. I'm sure it's completely unrelated, but I still thought it funny.) I wonder if he'll be there tomorrow? Not like he'd chat with me again, I suppose.

Back to pining away for one of those golden tickets. *whines*

People say I'm a very creative writer, and I think that's my problem. I create too much sometimes and end up shelving every project because I eventually come up with a different idea that sounds cooler at that moment and write that... then I do it again. There are some stories I really love, though, and refuse to abandon. They're just put on periodical hiatuses and resumed every couple of months.

Carpe Noctem--my baby--is an example of this. I first came up with it after having a series of dreams in about ninth grade that featured a vampire who followed me around. I named him Seth and started writing stories about him, accompanied by a thinly-veiled self-insert named Lucy. The story evolves and changes with me--when I first came up with it, it was a very dark, depressing, and disturbing tale about murder, violence, and homicidal jealousy. But now it's more lighthearted and cheerful in tone. I really love how Seth doesn't really change, though--he's always gruff and surly, but he's got a strange love for humanity despite the fact that they hate on him so hard for being a vampire. His origin has changed, though--originally a street magician from New Orleans, now he just enjoys making up random tales of origin and telling everybody he meets a different one every time he speaks to them. He's crazy, but in a very good way, and that's what I love about him, even if he IS just a figment of my imagination.

Harpy Angel is another one. It's still kept its dark, rather disturbing tone, but it's changed a bit in its various incarnations. Originally, she was recruited by a dragon for some odd reason--I forget why--but then it became more heavily Christian-toned and her life was traded for her mother's when she was an infant. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father offered to give up Meredith in exchange for his wife living again. The angel making the deal agreed and later turned Meredith into a "harpy angel"--a figure of vengeance, smiting those who break God's supposed laws. But she began questioning her duties and even God's laws, particularly because some of her new friends (attracted by her mission) were so-called "lawbreakers"--a gay fallen angel, the Black Horseman (who had converted to Buddhism and taken to wandering the world with his companion), a demon girl who really wanted to be an angel, and so on. They were really kind, good people, but according to her boss, they were horrid people and meant to be killed by her hand. I don't wanna spoil the ending, though, so I'll stop here. It's one of my favorite stories, and I always enjoyed writing it, though I really didn't like Meredith herself--she was a soulless puppet, after all, and I don't really enjoy writing that. But I loved her history teacher (the Black Horseman's companion, a pyrokinetic ninja chick) and the Black Horseman.

Another was more of a joke story than anything else, but I still like reviving it every now and then--it never had a proper title, but it was a cute little lesbian love story, centered on a magical academy, wherein a drag king with one magic eye could see into the future and the past. She made friends with a lonely girl named Luna and saw that she would eventually become a black witch and destroy everything if she continued to be so immersed in loneliness. So Will (the drag king) decided to make friends with her to prevent this prophecy from coming true. And there was another girl, Jenna Remington. Together, they had a happy little lesbian threesome and had various adventures with each other.

Another story which had lots of lesbian overtones was about fairies, named Circle of Light. It was about fairies from different kingdoms who controlled the elements--Maja the fire fairy, Aibell the earth fairy, Kala the water fairy, Aerora the half-fairy of air, and their leader, a half-fairy who controlled light. But since she was a half-fairy, nobody really liked her and treated her as an inferior. However, a shadowy woman in the mirror was kind to her and listened to her problems, and offered her friendship when no one else did. So, although she was supposed to drown out this so-called evil witch (who was a fairy who was just banished for having natural powers over darkness), she fell in love with the witch and ended up freeing her. I really liked everyone in that story--particularly two side characters, Bell (the fairy of sound) and Kayla (the fairy of love). They were twins and argued a lot. Bell always wanted to be in Kayla's photoshoots (which Bell suspected were really porno shoots), but Kayla always told her that they weren't and refused to use her love powers on Bell. They were very unimportant characters, but they were very fun to write. Aerora was, too. She was a math and business nut, and although I know nothing about math and business, I was able to successfully bullshit my way through it and make her seem interesting and eccentric.

I love writing my stories, but sometimes I wish I weren't so imaginative--I might be able to finish one that way!

You know, I don't even KNOW if the Rockfish Fall Festival is a costumed affair or not, but I'm slaving away on making a nifty new costume anyway. (I'm done with the raver-devil costume.) Now I'm working on a raver dragon. It gives me an excuse to use up all that blue fabric I got several years ago for Christmas and never used. So far, I've made dragon-ear-things and I'm working on a tail. I have the other pieces already--blue-toned shoes, jeans, blue tanktop, black overshirt. And throw it all together, I've got a decent costume!

Of course, I'm looking forward to all the bizarre looks I'll be getting. It's not a Halloween party, it's a fall festival. But what-the-hell-ever. Every festival is a good reason to dress up as SOMETHING or another. Why not now?

I still have to go get some glow-sticks and a flashlight to carry with me, since it'll be dark by the time I get home. Also, I have to bum $5 off of Mom again, because they're chargin' admission, and I don't have a dime.

My brother's coming over later today. Yayz! Josh is cool. X3 I wonder if I could swindle him into letting me vacation at his house in Trade? As long as I get back before November 16. Grandma Allie has eye surgery that day, and I said I'd keep an eye on her for a few days afterward.

I'm bored with being here. Bored and lonely. There's nobody over here that wants to be friends with me, and believe me, I've TRIED. Hanging around the two stores at the corner, walking around the neighborhood, starting up conversations with strangers... and here it is, I still don't have any friends. Even my online friends don't pay much attention to me these days, and that's pretty low. I wanna go to Trade--Josh says there's "my kind of people" over there, just wandering the streets. Maybe I'd have slightly higher chances of meeting someone who could tolerate my presence if I was stationed in a hippie town for awhile. And even if I didn't, a change of scenery would be nice.

The lady from FTCC still hasn't called. I'm getting annoyed with all of this.

So I read that Shrubya has flushed our lovely little habeas corpus thing down the toilet. So much for "land of the free." So much for "protecting America's freedom." So much for "civil liberties" and "Constitutional rights" and "basic human rights." So much for our rights! For someone who claims to be protecting rights and liberties, he doesn't seem to be all that big on KEEPING THEM THE WAY THEY ARE. Gay people can't marry--so much for the freedom of pursuit of happiness. He doesn't want women to control their own bodies. And now he can declare ANYBODY an enemy of the state without giving a reason why, AND he can imprison them indefinitely without a justifiable cause.

This isn't "freedom", folks. This is one step closer to a dictatorship. And don't give me that "IT'LL NEVER HAPPEN HERE!" shit, either. It HAS happened. FDR. 1940s. Japanese internment camps. Remember that? It's happening again. The frightening thing? It was a unanimous Congressional vote--100 to 0. People WANT this to happen. Jesus fucking Christ!

What we need to do, brothers and sisters, is STAND UP. We can't just lay back and accept it easily. Lying back and saying "what can we do about it?" will do nothing. Saying "support our troops! Freedom! FREEDOM!" will not protect our rights. What we have to do is stand up and let the higher-ups know that we're not GOING to lie down and accept our rights being stripped away, one by one. We have to fight for our rights. We have to see beyond our white suburban middle-class lives and see what is really important--what needs to be done, for the good of all people, American or not.

Don't just lie down and accept a fucking, folks. That's how it starts.

"Eve of Destruction" comes to mind quite suddenly...

I'm nearly done with my costume. It's one of those rare things that really makes me look good--I tried it on (although it's incomplete--I still have to paint my shoes and find my red and black socks) and I look great. :D I sewed the tail onto a pair of pants and ironed-on the black devil emblem to the shirt. I have to sew the wings on to the shirt, too... I just have to find a way to keep the damn wire from poking me in the shoulders. D:

I found my paw gloves. :3 I love wearing my paws, even if it's not cold or not Halloween. They're really comfortable. So is the cat-eared hat.

The lady for scheduling the GED-thingo is supposed to call tomorrow. Yayz! I'll have my Who tickets soon enough! *rubs hands together devilishly, puts on horn headband* Ufufufufufufuu~

Mom was scary today. Stepsibling #2 got pissed at her and shouted at her to shut up, and she yelled back. This is why I'm such a Good Girl. A glare or dissatisfied look from that woman was enough to keep ME in line. God forbid she ever raise her voice! I've never been yelled at by Mom in my entire life. She used to be a drill sergeant; she is scary when she yells. So, for the past five or so hours, Stepsibling #2 has been standing in the corner for disrespecting her. (If it were me, I would have braindusted him.)

I hope the weather clears up by Friday. I don't like walking in cold mud, but I will if it means I get to see other people. It's been cold and rainy for the past few days.

I just read Pete Townshend's latest diary entries. Doing such a simple thing shouldn't make my heart pound as fast as it does. It's just the stories of an old rock star about what's going on in his day. Just like anybody else's journal. But for some reason, it's like it's special when you hear certain people chattering on. It's like Pete's got some kind of magic he weaves into every word he produces, in a song or in a simple diary entry. I wouldn't doubt it. Magic in his eyes... makes him see for miles, y'know.

There's some kind of fall festival going on at Camp Rockfish this weekend. I think I'll go. I need something to do, some way to interact with people. And this seems just as well as any other. I could use a nice, long evening walk through the woods, too. I'll just have to bring a flashlight or a glowstick or something, so they can see me (it's from 4 to 9, so it'll be dark by the time I get home). I also threw together a quick costume. I've got handmade cat ears and cat paw-gloves. It's amazing what boredom will lead one to do. So I'll wear those out and call it a costume--though maybe I'll make a tail, too. I dunno. I hope I can do something interesting while I'm there, though, or meet people around my age. What's the betting it'll all be 5-year-olds, moos, and the like, just so the universe can spite me?

Celebration music, please! I finished my GED subjects. In two weeks, bitches. :D

And I managed to pass my most difficult subject on the first try. HUZZAH! *does a dance of joy*

And that means I'm a-goin' to see the boys! I don't care if I have to WALK to Columbus from here--I'm getting there any way I can! *squee* I will be a happy woman for the rest of my life because of this. Yeah, yeah, GED, graduating, whoo-hoo, whatever. I just want to see Pete, Roger, and the rest! *dances around*

I can't wait. :D I've already looked up bus schedules and ticket prices for Value Center Arena... X3 *does the Happy Snoopy Dance*

...Of course, I have to take the actual GED test first...

BUT I CAN PASS IT. I know I can. :D

*resumes dancing*

I wonder if I could somehow get an autograph from them...?

I phoned Dad. They're still working on the house. They're not gonna tear out my walls (damn! I wanted to repaint), but they DO have to rip out the entire ceiling of the house, since it can't be cleaned easily.

I told him that I've almost got my GED, and he asked what I'm gonna do afterward. I hadn't the heart to tell him that I'd like to take a very, very long walk down the road with very few material possessions with me. Dad rather disapproves of anything related to free-spiritdom and seems to count on me to be the Golden Child, the great hope for the next generation of WASP Republicanism. My brother was supposed to be that, too, but now he lives in the mountains in a small hippie town, playing music and working at Taco Bell.

And I'd like a life like Josh's. He lives in the middle of an area of splendid natural beauty; he expresses himself whenever he feels like it; he can go wherever he wants, anyway, anyhow, anywhere. It's true.

I want to go home with him when he comes to visit next week. But I can't--because I have to stay and keep an eye on Grandma after she has surgery in early November. Much as I love Grandma, I wish I could just go on on my own. I'm feeling like a bird in a cage, ramming against the bars and hoping for freedom, but to no avail. I want out!

In other news: Pete Townshend seems to like the name "Sally" a lot. It's mentioned in Baba O'Riley ("Sally, take my hand..."), I'm a Boy (one of the little girls is Sally Joy), Sally Simpson, and I think it's mentioned in another song, too. Maybe it's just one of those names that's nice and easy to sing about. Or something.

Just a subject-and-a-half left in my GED-thingo. Huzzah! I just have a few more literature things to breeze through... then math. BLAH. I hate math. D: I'm better with things involving words and analyzing feelings and thoughts instead of trying to add letters together into a number. OMGWTFSTFU.

I'm bored.

I had a dream that the Blond Guy (one of my many companions who comes along in my subconscious; I think his name is Nate) returned. We had many fun adventures together at the beach, including feeding the poor with prizes of ramen we won at a strange arcade, dressing up in Ragnarok Online costumes to evade detection by my parents, and house-sitting some rich person's beach house... and wrecking it... yeh, not the point. It was fun. Why can't my real life be as cool as the one I have in my dreams?

My hands. MY HANDS. They ACHE. But in a good way. I just made a pair of wings for my costume and my hands were still sore from yesterday. All that's left is the shirt, butchering a pair of jeans, finding my red and black socks, and painting my tennis shoes to match. *nods* Oh, and I have to trim a bit of the wire from the wings; it turned out to be about half an inch longer than it should have been, so I have to get the pliers and clip 'em later.

It's really fun so far. I think this costume will turn out nicely. Now to find a suitable party to attend, nyan!

I think I'll give the sewing a rest for the night, though. I need to clean up my room before Mum gets home later, and I should probably do another couple of hours for the GEDthingo.

Damn social studies tests. D: I marked most of the right answers for a test and it said I got them wrong. I looked at the damn test and clicked the right number--the answer was 3. It changed in the test review and said I marked 2 instead, but 3 WAS indeed the right answer. WTF, test. W. T. F.

So I'm taking a break, in order to avoid hurling my computer through the window in frustration.

I'm tired today. Don't know why.

I might dig around in the change vase and scratch up some money to go to the gas station. I'm bored, and I need a quick change of scenery. *nods*

I like the XM Satellite Radio channels on the TV. They're really handy for figuring out who the hell sings some of my favorite oldies. XP They never tell you on the plain old radio. I had to do careful detective work to find out who sang Last Train to Clarksville a couple of years ago. D:

Random Music Facts:

-Instant Karma!, Baba O'Riley, War Pigs, Let My Love Open the Door and the live version of Gloria are my five favorite songs.

-Tea and Theatre makes me cry. Likewise, Crosby Stills and Nash's Find the Cost of Freedom. I'm not sure why the former makes me cry, but I know the latter is because I associate it with the Coda from Woodstock, which reminds me that the generation to which I should have belonged is about 40 years that-a-way, my heroes are either dead or getting really old, and things have changed for the worst.

-I can name a HELL of a lot of songs from 1960-1985 just by their opening strains. Or even the middle bars of a song. Anything from the Beatles to Black Sabbath.

-When nobody's looking, I'll turn on the Woodstock version of Sparks and dance like a fool.

-Before the Beatles and the Who, I only had a passing interest in music. Now it's my LIFE.

-Before 9/11, I listened to country only. But then it got too patriotic and religious for me, so I changed it to the oldies station and heard a Beatles song. Please Mr Postman. It changed my life completely, and I'm not kidding--I heard it and suddenly I was a tree-hugging, world-loving hippie instead of the angsty emo mcgoth teen I had been.

-Iron Man, Crazy Train, Enter Sandman, The Boys are Back in Town, and Cowboy Song are the first five songs I ever remember hearing. No, I don't even remember lullabies or childhood rhymes. But I can damn well sing along with Metallica or Thin Lizzy.

-When I was little, Papaw Tom would record tapes for me from Mom's old childhood records, with the Chipmunks or Tom Lehrer on them. I listened to Tom Lehrer more, and maybe that's why I'm warped.

-The only 90s band I truly, truly like is L7, and I've just become interested in them in the past few months.

-I think the Who are my favorite band now. They've managed to conquer even the Beatles in terms of my personal fangirlish silliness.

-I have a character in one of my stories who hitchhikes, writes poetry, and can communicate with reptiles. While his real name and identity are never revealed, there's hint enough in his codename--The Lizard King!

-Roger Daltrey's scream at the end of Won't Get Fooled Again is something that fascinates me more than it shold.

-I like listening to Keith Moon singing.

-I have a habit of grinning and silently mouthing the words to songs, whether I'm alone or with other people.

-If I could turn back time, I would save John Lennon, even if it cost my own life. Yes--I didn't know the man personally, never will, and only have access to his memories through questionable books and through old records and CDs... but I would sooner take a bullet for him than for a member of my own family. Does that make me weird?

-Ditto Keith Moon and Abbie Hoffman (though he's not really a musician...)

-I can't concentrate without music. If it's quiet, I space out completely and vanish off to another frickin' dimension. Which could explain that failed social studies test a few minutes ago--failed it with silence. Turned on Black Sabbath and got a 95 on it. What's that tell you?

-I honestly don't understand what was so great about the Sex Pistols.

-My fondest wish is to touch Roger Daltrey's hair. Or Pete Townshend's nose. Or Ringo Starr's nose. Because I'm a mildly creepy fangirl like that.

-Sometimes I'll watch a completely sucky movie just because it has musicians I love in it. Vampirella, anyone?

-Sometimes I'll watch a completely sucky movie just because it has one song I love in it.

-I write lyrics in my spare time. Can't read music, can't write it, but I have a fantasy life in which I'm a clever riot-girl/hippie hybrid who breaks down sexist walls in the mainstream music industry and gets a message across to everyone. I think I'd better stick to writing cheesy scifi stories and fantasy tales.

I've been hard at work on the costume. :D So far, I've got a pair of cute red horns and a half-finished forked tail. Planning on stuffing it with doll hair (lacking actual stuffing). I'll sew up the shirt tomorrow; the shirt's the easiest part. And I'll be a few weeks early for Halloween! XP I still need to track down a party or somethin' so I can show it off--I'll be damned if I'm staying home and sitting on the couch watching TV! I think they might be having a party at Jester's. Jester's is pretty cool. Maybe they'll have some good ol' metal bands--like Nephilym or the Fifth. They're okay.

I also bought some glowsticks. I love glowsticks. Now I have to put them in a drawer or something until Halloween--or else I'll be tempted to crack 'em early and pretend to rave by myself at 4:30 in the morning when bored.

We went to Taco Bell for dinner. Saw a guy I'd seen there before--he looks kind of like my brother. He also gave us freebies. :D Bitchin'! (It was a steak quesadilla--I'm not eating it, because Leiko is a tree-hugging vegetarian--and a caramel-apple empanada.) But yeah--totally free. He didn't charge us or anything. SA-WEET.

Two mishaps while making my costume pieces today--first, I scratched my hands a bit while cutting a wire hanger up to make a pair of wings with, then I stabbed my thumb with a needle while sewing the devil tail. Owch!

Now I just have to figure out how to make the wings stand a bit... the tail, I've figured out. But I'm not sure how to do the wings. I think I'll do the same thing with the shirt and wings that I'm going to do with a pair of jeans and the tail. Maybe that'll work.

While I was at the fabric counter, I mentioned to the lady that I was going to make a raver-devil costume. She said that she was going to make a Halloween costume for her three-year-old, but didn't want it to look too sinister. Another lady standing nearby commented, "Kids are sinister enough, even without horns and a tail!" I liked her. She also suggested using old socks or scraps as stuffing for the tail and horns. Acting on her advice, I stuffed the horns with the discarded fingers for my gloves. XP

I had a dream that I went adventuring with The Blond Guy from a few weeks ago (last seen when he was acting very rudely on a particular morning when my house burned down). We wound up in the book-world of Fushigi Yuugi and I was the Byakko no Miko. I kept trying to pass the job on to someone else, though, because I didn't wanna get eaten by a giant tiger after getting a buncha great wishes granted. The Blond Guy bailed me out and we managed to save the book-world. Hooray!

I always love my dreams. They're so fun, and I always have such great friends (who I simply don't have in real life, though not for lack of trying). The Blond Guy is one of my favorites. I think his name was Nate.

In other news: We're havin' Taco Bell for dinner tonight. Yayz! I love the cheese quesadillas with about three packets of Mild sauce, mixed-up pop, and the cheesy fiesta potatoes. :D

You know another word I hate? "Fruition." I'm not sure why. I just don't like it. Fortunately, few people use it.

I killed another four hours on the GED this afternoon. I'm finished with the writing unit and have moved on to social studies. 100% on the pre-test! Bitchin'.

We're going to the good Wal-mart tomorrow, so we can stock up on Gram's groceries and pick up the pieces of my costume. I've gotta get crackin'! It'll be some work, but at least I'm staying busy.

Gram says we might go to JoAnn's for fabric for my stepsister (for some unknown reason). If we do, I might look at their patterned stuff. I think I might try my hand at making a dress. Most of the year, I wear long pants day after day (and as a result, my legs are fishbelly-white), because I so hate the fashions that my fellow women wear. Ass-short skirts and shorts, tight, restrictive shirts, heels that wreck one's figure... it's part of the reason why I wear men's clothing. The other part is that I'm a pretty big chick anyway--six feet tall, 180 lbs. Women's clothing is too short for me, even if it's of a normal, acceptable, modest length. Or it's too tight. Guys have cooler clothes choices, too. I don't like pastels and pink. I prefer earthy tones, like green or brown or gray. Guys have more clothes in those kinds of colors. They also have the cooler band T-shirts (no, I don't want a rhinestone-logo pink AC/DC shirt, dammit--I want a BLACK AC/DC shirt with no sparklies whatsoever!) Guy clothes are more suitable and practical for the kind of stuff I do, too.

I swear--if I applied a shoe-polish 'stache and goatee, I'd be the most convincing drag king ever. I might do that as an experiment someday. Just to see how people react.

I wonder--if you were a drag king (or an FTM) dating a drag queen (or an MTF), neither with any desire for surgery, would that be classed as gay or straight? It doesn't matter, because love is love, and we need to stop putting labels and classes and shit on it. We just need to do it. To everybody.

You know a phrase I just can't stand?

"A new lease/leash on life."

I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it really does. What? Your old lease ran out? Shouldn't you be moving on, then? Elsewhere? And what of new "leash"? You had an old one? Please--you're free to enjoy whatever kink you please, but please leave me out of it. Leave the leash--both the old one and the new one--on the bedpost.

I'm about half-done with one of the units in the GED-thing. It's easy so far. I bet that'll change once I hit the last one--math. Yech! I hope it's nothing really complicated--like, beyond eighth-grade pre-algebra. That was as far as I ever sort-of comprehended in that subject. I could do area, perimeter, and volume, but I was rather terrible at adding letters together. Letters don't make numbers. Letters make sentences.

My brother's coming to visit on the 20th. Maybe I can swindle him into draggin' me back to Trade (his tiny new hometown in Tennessee--or, as he affectionately refers to it, "Bumblefuck"). It's kind of like Mirror and Image--he's moved to Hippie Central, Tennessee, and he couldn't be more miserable. He was popular and well-liked here. He had all sorts of friends and amusements. But there in Trade, he's only got Jill (his girlfriend) and I think they've got a cat, too. Meanwhile, back at home, I'm highly unpopular and the Local Eccentric for the people of Davis Bridge (or, as I affectionately refer to it, "Bumblefuck"). Josh says that I would love it there in Trade--hippies and stoners and all-natural folks wandering around at all hours of the day listening to Bob Marley and trading veggie recipes in the streets. I'd do a lot to trade places with him this time!

I might ask him if he'll give me a ride up to Ohio come December. I need SOMEONE to take me, at any rate. Even if I have to stand on the side of the road in the cold mountain winter with my thumb out, I'm going to see those crinkly old men singin' their hearts out in Columbus!