Hmm...turning it off now. Hail and thunder so loud it echoes...marvelous, but not particularly healthy for dad's computer.

We are having a rather spectacular lightining storm right now, and I can watch it through the window right by the desk.

I rather like this view point, but I miss my mp3 player.

And my disk drive, of course.

I have developed a fondness for the Grateful Dead.

Should I just give up now, or is there still hope for me?

*sings* Truckin'....

Ugh...must stop reading Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfiction...because that last one just made me stupider, I'm sure of it. Why, oh why am I such a poor judge of fic summaries?
Must stop anyway...must write paper on damned historian...blaaaah.

Livy. Wrote a 142 book history of Rome. But he didn't do anything else. At all. How I'm supposed to bullshit two pages of this, I'll never know.
The things I do for extra credit. Oi.

And, just to prove that I really am a silly little clink, the moment I come into possession of a new game, I immediately go and peruse the ff.net category for it, thus spoiling it utterly for me. This is the third or fourth time I've done that. *sigh* What? Learning? Me? Of course not.

And while watching the silent movie with avid fascination, he slowly raised the bottle of non-alcoholic beer to his lips, and blew a long, mournful note that sounded throughout the house, howling above the tinny piano from the movie.

"And what's the matter with you?" he asked the cat. She voiced no reply, and the piano played on.

What Type of Villain are You?

mutedfaith.com /
<º>


That test was more fun than it had any right to be. Heh. I'm categorized with Demona. Cool. *spite*

*pokepoke* Er? Picture? Work, please? See, like that. You know, with the pretty colors and things. Good boy.

Fuck, this feels like withdrawl all over, minus the pain. Thank the All for small favors, eh? Last thing I need right now are shocks...

You ever have one of those days when everything seems to be running just fine, but you keep getting the feeling that everyone has really suddenly manifested a chicken on top of their head, and you just didn't notice?


Because that basically describes my day. *swatswat* Damn chickens.

I think there may be a bird's nest outside my window. Not too sure.

And it's not really my window, just like it's not my computer or my phoneline or my keyboard. My keyboard, you know, only has twenty six letters of the alphabet. Not...twenty-nine. *sigh*

But the birds were carrying worms and such, and one ould leave while the other stayed, and now they're both gone...so maybe I was wrong. It's nice having a window right here, though.

It's cloudy out. Excuse me as I bang my head against a wall; that might straighten things out a bit.

I am fire.

I am dancing, I am singing; my fingertips light the stars aglow and my feet, the ground ablaze. My dance will catch you watching, though you tear your eyes away. I am red and I am orange, I am heat and I am light, I am kinetic, I am moving, I am blue and I am white.

You can look, but do not touch, for while I seem winsome and friendly I will burn you with unbated frenzy 'til I've eaten you away. My eyes, so blue, so bright and lovely, they hide the truth: That I am hungry, ever starving, ever feeding on all that lives and what does not. I will eat the world out from within, swallow it up from without, and still cry and crackle for more until there is nothing left but for me to eat myself. And then there will be nothing left to dance but gray black ash upon the wind, a wind that I created and forgot.

I am doomed to this but still I hunger, doomed but still I dance. I am dangerous and angry, and I will kill if given the chance. But stay away and I will feed you, in the only way I can. My light will warm and guide you and melt your loneliness away. My dance will heal the frostbite of your soul.

I am freedom, though contained, I am reckless, though held back. I'll behave though it will chafe me, until you grow careless, unafraid. Then when you are sighing, when you turn your back as I am dying, I will leap and then be free.

Do not forget; I am fire. I was here first, and while you may think you hold me chained, I will always come back. And it will be me, dancing towards the stars that are my brothers, that will dance you to ashes in the end.

I am fire. I am heat and I am light, I am movement all kinetic, I am burning blue and white.

I am fire.

Quick bit of Boffo Babble:
Why the hell does Lucifer, of all people, insist upon being noble and tragic? He's not supposed to do that. Damn it, characters, submit to my will! *double sigh* I can't wait until I finish the damn thing...

href="http://mysite.freeserve.com/Intereo_Liberi/test3.htm"
target="_blank">src="http://mysite.freeserve.com/Intereo_Liberi/mythresult/dragon.jpg"
border="0" width="330" height="175">

I took the href="http://mysite.freeserve.com/Intereo_Liberi/test3.htm"
target="_blank">What Mythological Creature Are you? test by
!

*teeth* Indeed. Not particularly cuddly, am I?

I want to write about a mortician. Damn you, Neil Gaiman, for writing American Gods and making me want to write about a mortician. And dead bodies. Lots and lots of dead bodies. Augh.

Ah, so. (This is the typical manner in which I begin a rather long and involved and complicated story, or at the very least something absolutely no one else on the planet could possibly find even remotely interesting.)

When I was in fifth grade, I had to read Bridge to Terabithia. We've all read this book, haven't we? If you haven't, not only do you live in a box, but you'd best peruse the children's section of your local library immediately and read it. Because I said so, naturally.

Now, I'd read the book two or three years before then (I was even more of a voracious reader when I was little than I am now. I was the girl with a book. That was my stereotype, that is what I am still known as. Some things you just never grow out of...) so I knew about the ending, which, incidentally, had been spoiled for me by my middle brother. I hadn't believed him when he told me she was going to die. I may have cried, but I don't think so. I think I was more upset with the fact that he'd been right than with the fact that my favorite character was dead. Anyway.

My fifth grade reading class had a few issues...for one thing, I had three teachers over the course of the year, for the same class. Not because the teachers kept getting sick, or dying, or retiring, but because the school had decided, in the administration's ineffable wisdom, that the fifth grade advanced reading classes couldn't possibly have only one teacher, you know, to prevent confusion and maladjustment in our impressionable little minds. For another thing, I was in the same class as my rival, which brought up many inferiority and jealously issues. Most of them still exist latently, in one form or another. Still.

So, my second teacher was a bitch. A horrible, terrible bitch whom no one liked. And we read that book, a book that I had enjoyed the many times that I had read it, but after fifth grade I couldn't read it ever again. Too traumatic. Mostly this was due to the fact that I, always a straight A student in reading and things pertaining to that, got something of a low B or nearly a C in her class. Can you blame me for hating her?

One of the assignments she gave us was to get in a group (I always have, and always will, despise group work.) of five or six people, and create a fantasy world like Terabithia. Figure out its history, its citizens, its laws, its anthem, its magic...everything. And you had to fit the members of your group in as some part of the government. I ended up working in the same group with my rival. And the world we created...

Even now, though the details have grown a bit fuzzy in my head, I'm still a little impressed with what our rather young minds came up with. There were...five of us. That I can remember. Only two of us had any interest at all in high fantasy...the other three were more or less along for the ride when we got started.

I think we pulled a lot from Narnia, now that I'm looking back on it. Without realizing, of course- originality wasn't high on our agenda. We were creating, and that was all there was to it. Our world was called Rynalkie. I'm not really sure why- and that's ri-NAL-ky. Not rine-a-lack, as one member of our group insisted upon calling it. Rynalkie, the land of gold and jewels, where no human foot had ever tread until five children from an outside world fled through the Mourning Mountains and the Labyrinth to emerge in the sunny, happy land of Rynalkie. And upon reaching Rynalkie, several of those five children ceased to be human, but we forgot to explain that...I wanted to be the Mistress of Magic, but he claimed that. So I was the Lady of Beasts. And boy-howdy, were there a lot of those. Part of the assignment was to create a creature lexicon (she didn't call it that) for your world. Our list of creatures was some three pages long, from the Master of Magic's platinum dragon (one of a kind, a gift from his dear friend and ally the Lady of Beasts) named Grezeka to the many tribes of ants. Compared to some other groups and their six different creatures, we went a little overboard. (I can't believe I remembered Grezeka's name...)

The other three group members became the Dwarven King, the Weather Master (he complained, saying he didn't want to be a weather man, until we told him that meant he made the weather, didn't just report it...), and the, uh...well, she didn't exactly rule the damn place, but she was in charge of the government. Meh. I can't remember everything, you know. I haven't actually thought about this in four or five years.

I remember that there had been a war when we arrived, and we'd all inherited our powers from something, and it was our job to stop the really really evil guy with the unpronouncable name (names were my specialty- this guy might have been Portalanthalcalkuzux, but I think that was a different project, one from computer class in third grade) using our newfound powers. You know, save the world, restore balance to everything, all that jazz.

From eagles to ants, with enemies and wells of souls and namers and all sorts of things...but our anthem sucked. We hadn't worked on the music nearly as much as we'd worked on everything else, and really, the other three group members hadn't gotten into the spirit of things quite so much as the two of us had...so our grade, if I remember correctly, was a B. Possibly a B+.

And now, I am possibly the only one who bothers to remember. I had so much fun with that project, and I was so angry to have gotten such a low grade- especially compared to the drivel some of the other groups churned out. Certainly there were a fair share of groups that were better organized than us, and there were some who had taken the project and added a bit of humor to it...but then there were the groups (composed mostly of giggling girls) that made pink and fluffy worlds populated by horses who were being oppressed by the Icky Vegetable People. When asked how the horses could fight off these icky veggies, they blinked vapidly and looked clueless, while we were marked down for "not enough detail".

From eagles to ants...*shakes head* It's not so much that I was angry, actually- I was upset. He was angry, and perhaps that anger was contagious. It was a very long time ago, as these things go- I may sound bitter, but I'm not. I've still got Rynalkie in my head, you see, with my mountain where the dragons live and the eagles roost, and the Labyrinth that keeps strangers out, and the Palace from which we all could rule...But very few of the ideas were mine. Again, as always, originality has never been my strong suit. That, more than anything else, and really as the only thing, is what I am bitter about.

Oh, did I mention that I was a person who lived in the past? I should have warned you; it's one of my many faults. The future's too uncertain, so I'll reminisce and remember until someone smacks me upside the head and points out the eighteen-wheeler barelling down the road towards me.

*shrug* This was pointless. I'm surprised I remember so much. "Rine-a-lack, Rine-a-lack, rah rah rah!"

Is that not the absolute cutest thing you've ever seen? Don't argue with me. You know it is.

Huh. I'm on the stupid Scandinavian keyboard, and I spell my member name with a j when i'm logging in.
For those who don't know, spelling "shateiel" as "sjateiel" would pronounce to the same thing, if you were speaking Swedish. But the keyboard is Norwegian. And the Norwegians, for the most part, hate the Swedes. ("And this is where the Swedes ransacked the castle, burned our tapestries, and stole the spoons..." "(You'd think they'd have gotten over the spoons...)" "(Yeah, but it was only five hundred years ago- these things take time.)" "(Oh. I see. Time. Riiiight.)")

Maybe the stupid keyboard is having an identity crisis? Or maybe I just notice too many coincidences.
Nah. That couldn't be it.

Oh, by the way, I'm making cookies again. Real ones, not metaphorical ones, even. (The sad, sad story of my life...)

And no, they're not for you. I'm not sure who they're for, but sadly, you aren't getting any. Whomever you may be- no cookie for you!

Okay, so I, like nearly every other bouncing fangirl on the web, have toyed with the idea of an otaku (fan-made) senshi team. Yes, I'm talking about Sailor Moon, and yes, I freely admit this. I am not ashamed. (much.) For a while they were really, really popular, and some were well done while others were...armies of clones. Kinda scary, since they wore short skirts and not storm trooper uniforms. But anyway.

My otaku senshi ideas all usually had really obscure, or really weird themes. Like the Hell Senshi; this was actually one of my ideas that I really liked, but I never wrote anything for them. Sailor Elysium, Sailor Tartarus, Sailor Asphodel (toldya I could be obscure), Sailor Gehenna, Sailor Nifleheim, and one other whose name I can't remember right now. And this particular team had a story; the three Greco-Roman based senshi (Elysium, Tartarus, and Asphodel) were really powerful, but they were the three teenage girl main characters who didn't know about their powers. (Typical, now hush.) The Senshi whose name I can't remember was the leader of the evil Hell senshi (technically all six of them were meant to be a team, but one half was clueless and the other half was Up to No Good and stuff...), and she awakened the latent powers within the three girls (Elly, Tara, and Delilah. Never claimed to be original, or creative.) and blew stuff up. A lot of stuff got blown up in this story, as I remember.

It didn't make much sense (still doesn't), and I couldn't figure out a motive for the evil half of the team, so I never actually wrote anything. I drew the main characters, though (they were my first attempts at drawing using an actual tutorial to help me- there's a huge marked difference between my pictures of the three Hell Senshi and everything else I'd drawn before them. It's kinda neat, actually...), and they had really funky color schemes and crazy fuku designs. Like, black with lots of stripes, and hair styles that could rival the Great Pyramids in the monumental task of their building.

This had no point, naturally. Maybe I'll tell you about some of my other Sailor Senshi ideas...(and there were a lot of them...like, eight. At least. With histories and enemies and love interests and everything. Including a Sailor Earth and Sailor Sun, because really now, who doesn't do one of them?)