My Tina is the bestest Tina that ever Tinaed the Seven Seas and you should all be jealous that you don't have Tinas as cool as mine.

w00t. I love my roommate.

And I'm happy now. Yay, soup. And friends. I'd forgotten how nice they were. Water, too. Damn that dihydrogen monoxide addiction of mine.

"What's this?"
"Dihydrogen monoxide. It helps the pills go down."

...Fuck. I should know better, I should definitely know better. Going to stop that now.

Head hurts. Keep trying to drink something and getting distracted along the way.

Oh, Hakkai. You can move into the cabin of angst, if you want. I don't think Sydney would let you bring Gojyo along with you, he'd make Shinji cry. Maybe you could bring Sanzo, and he could hold glaring contests with Ashley, but I think he'd totally throw off the happy vibes in the place. Goku would also make Shinji cry, and come to think of it, so would Sanzo. Maybe you could just visit for tea every now and then, and have deep, meaningful discussions on being a sidekick with Hardin.

The problem with acquiring four new muses is that I have no place to put them. I'm rather curious as to how they'll interact with the others (because I'm on such horrible, horrible crack) because the Saiyuki lot are so...flamboyant. So I don't want to isolate them in their own little corner of the world that is my head. Also, for all musefic intents and purposes, it'll take someone like Cay or Von to get Sanzo to realize exactly how much denial he's in.

Mirage of Blaze is clearly on the backburner while I obsess about Saiyuki, which is kind of funny since I've always hated the artwork for Saiyuki, but now I'm quite fond of it. Blaming it on Sanzo's underclothes. Yummy. And the angst, dear god the angst. But it's good angst, because it's remiscing over the past angst, and that can be dealt with. In fandom, it's usually dealt with frequent applications of sex (re: the healing power of cock)...and, okay, it's like that in my head too, a fair amount of the time. But there's also fluff, excessive amounts of fluff. It's like a giant group therapy session, only with more sex. And kittens. There is an alarming number of kittens inhabiting my headspace. It's like every new character that comes along gets a starter kit, including a map, a history book, and a kitten.

It's very late and I should be writing about why I think a book of poetry and King Lear were the most effective books in the course. Not about my muses and their kittens.

Ah ha ha ha...I'm too tired to form coherent sentences. Slick, V, real slick. I should probably just outline, drabble, and go to sleep.

...I may just do that. Oi.

'Least I'm back with the happy. w00t.