*splat*

May. 23rd, 2005 10:41 pm
lykomancer: (Default)
I think I have more or less made it intact through my first year of seminary. Granted, I still have to file the paperwork for an extension and "update" my Taoism paper, hand in the bitch I just wrote for Paul, and I haven't (yet) attempted to drop my upcoming J-term, but...
I am running on four hours of sleep, strong coffee, and a bad attitude. Feels fucking fabulous in a masochistic kind of way.
Blah.

Colorbar and Fanlisting crap )
lykomancer: (This moment is...)
Got up to go to church this morning, staggered around, fell back asleep while waiting for Tom, woke-- reluctantly-- back up, and grunted a few things about how wonderful sleep was on our way to the door, noting that I was probably just getting to bed when Wendy was getting up to get to church.
Tom expressed his amazement over the fact that Wendy's church begins so early, stating that it was strange for a Lutheran church.
"Not Lutheran," I muttered, deciding that nicotine was just the upper I needed if I couldn't have more sleep or coffee for a while, "Ev'n... Evanga..." I gave up on the difficulties of English and opted for Greek. "Euangelion." (Pronounced: "OOO-on-(hard g)gelly-on"; means "Evangelical.")
Yes, Greek was easier for my sleep-slowed mouth and mind than my native language.
Tom's response was a wide, scary grin that I barely noticed, lighting up my Vanilla Sweet Dream. (Yeah, I smoke girlie cigarettes when I bother smoking, ok?) "Give ya oral sex if you can name the article that goes with that," he said, and I only really caught part of that.
"Mmm... E (pronounced "hey")? It's feminine, I think." I paused. "Wait, why am I able to remember something so completely useless?"
Tom giggled. "Very good! Oral?"
...no, I don't think so.
God, running on four hours of sleep and having not studied any Greek whatsoever in three months, I was still able to use it easier than I could English and remember what gender the word was. My brain is a magpie; it collects shiny, useless things. >.<

Great.
After sharing that completely useless moment of my life, I am going back to bed.

(EDIT:
Yo people: My undying affection goes to anyone who can find me an mp3 of The Eagles' "Heartbreak Tonight"! Find it and name your price: fics, art, my soul, whatever!
I would also like Aerosmith's "Pink", but that's a little lower on my list of priorities.
THANK YOU!)
lykomancer: (Hand me my leather)

I will write a fanfic or drabble with the pairing
Martel/Lust
rated
R
and include the following things:
pistol, sun, sofa

Don't know what pairing to write?
Then let the Fullmetal Alchemist Pairing Machine decide for you



WOO-HOO! I will never run out of pairing ideas AGAIN! And I will write all sorts of FUCKED-UP fanfic!
And life will be GOOD!
lykomancer: (A hard-on is not personal growth)
I went out today to run some errands.
One of things I meant to do was stop by the Target that's downtown and pick up a few loaves of bread, since we eat bread with everything in this house.

...I shouldn't be allowed to set foot in Target.

Within the first five minutes, my good, responsible self has run off in stark raving terror, and the bad, money-spending me is left in charge.

I went for bread, and I left with bread, chopsticks, teacups, metal basket organizers, and pajamas.
God damned bargain bins by the door got me again.
And then there were the pajamas.

I need to explain:
I have an unhealthy obsession with pajamas.
I have a pajama fetish.

There. I've said it.

It's so bad; I can't control myself. Everytime I see soft, comfy, cuddly pjs, I am drawn to them helplessly. I lose myself for hours browsing though the racks of jersey and flannel and cotton, the elastic and drawstrings, the sets and singles. Medium, Large, XLarge, XXLarge. Pastel Easter egg colors and cutesy patterns of duckies and roses. Boxer shorts or pants? Long sleeve, short sleeve, straps?
Sexy silky black satin bottoms with flames up the sides; dreamy dark midnight blue velveteen with pale yellow stars and moons that hugs your curves, the pants flaring out at the bottom like bellbottoms; spaghetti-strapped camisole tops frothing with peach lace and edged with ribbon; cute pseudo-boxers that show strong clean-lined legs and a matching oversized t-shirt top; the no-nonsense straight-line comfort of men's style nightware.
I fuckin' love pajamas.
It takes a strong-willed co-shopper to safely wrangle me away from them without me clinging to a pair in desperation, crying, "But I need to have them!"
But if, like today, I am alone, I can drool over the pjs for as long as I want, my resistance slowly crumbling like the shore of Cornwall into the Atlantic-- or, if, again, like today, the pjs are on sale...well, the resistance is nonexistent from the get-go.
I do have some limits though.
I never pay more than six bucks for my pjs.
I walked out of there with two new sets (5.48$ and 3.98$) and a nightgown (2.98$). Yeah, buddy. I rock, and I know it.

And now I am happily sitting around in a new pair of thick jersey cloth long sleeved cream-colored pjs, simple and plain except for the bit of cream and raspberry lacing at the collar.

Admit it; you're jealous of my badass pajamas.
*noddles wisely*
It's ok; I understand.
lykomancer: (A hard-on is not personal growth)
Books I bought and am attempting to read:
The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
Wolf Night by Tara K. Harper
The Magic of Shapeshifting by Rosalyn Greene
The Five Gospels by Robert Funk, Roy Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar
The Everything Learning Latin Book by Richard Prior
The Right to Write by Julia Cameron

I really, really recommend The Five Gospels as one of the best translations of the gospels I've seen, and one of the most enlightening, interesting dives into the life of the historical Jesus. Thank you, liberal New Testament scholarship!


If I spent ten minutes a day studying the languages I have previously studied (y'know, to keep up with them and remember more of them), it would take me over an hour.
(Sign language, French, Spanish, Ojibwe, Latin, Koine Greek, and Japanese. That's not even counting in the little snippets of Kiswahili I learned, or the bits of Russian and German.)

[Easiest to learn: French, Greek, and Japanese. Figure that one out.]

I've been thinking a lot lately of taking my language out of the closet (literally), and revamping it, considering how much more I have learned about language structure and evolution since the last time I really worked on it.

God, I'm a geek.
lykomancer: (Default)
So why in the hell is it quarter to 3 already?

Staying up late designing my own shirts. Jen will no doubt take pictures when I wear them.

Quote:
"We are an evolutionary device on the part of the Tao to make water portable and sometimes sentient." -- Ted Tollefson, Taoism prof.

Commandment of Communication #10-- Apologize "properly."
This will get fleshed out later when I am not so tired and distracted.
Maybe Jenny's right about me needing to write a book about this.

I wonder how I rip my own CD's to my computer?
*sets off to figure that one out*
lykomancer: (Default)
When I graduated from high school, I decided that my goal was to become an alcoholic. Ok, so maybe it wasn't a productive goal, or one valued by society, but I had one, and that's what really mattered.
I failed. I may really like my Long Islands, but I'm not a drunk.

I think that, as I graduate from college, my new goal is to make Japan's sex offenders listing. No, that's not a productive goal either, and I doubt that I'll be able to pull that one off, either, which makes me very, very sad... but it doesn't stop me from wanting to try.

Your friends, by the way, may not be very good friends if they encourage you to start projects like these...but you may love them anyway. ^_^ <3<3

__
On an unrelated note, it is now 2 am and I have not done any of the reading for the class I am supposed to facilitate tomorrow. I should...should, mind you...get on that. That's yet another thing that I doubt will happen, and it doesn't make me sad at all.
__
EDIT: Actually I did. Joy is now apparently trying to teach us to write to reflect-- what a strange idea! I'll have to try that sometime and see if it works for me (what sarcasm? what are you talking about?)-- and how to shapeshift. *skims text* Wow, you'd think a subject like that would be more interesting, ne? ...however, it does give me more fanfic ideas. I somehow don't think fanfiction counts as reflective writing... Hmmm. *ponders*
lykomancer: (Default)

I adopted a cute lil' baby Jesus fetus
from Fetusmart! Hooray fetus!


*shakes the jar*
Ooo... it's glowing! ^_^
lykomancer: (Default)
A Pagan dies and to his great surprise finds himself standing before some pearly gates. The guy in charge looks him over: "Can I help you?"

"Where am I?" asks the Pagan.

"Beg your pardon?" the other guy asks. "You're in Heaven, of course."

"B-but I don't believe..."

"Hmmm," The man squints his eyes thoughtfully "Are you one of them Pagan folk?" the gatekeeper asks, his mouth curling in mild distaste.

"Yes, I am...I believe I'm in the wrong place, which way is the Summerland?" the Pagan asks.

"It's been *temporarily* shut down for repairs," the gatekeeper says with an ironic chuckle. "Ever since we took over... Er, I mean... Since the people found their way to the true path."

"Whatever," says the Pagan, "do I do now?"

"I'm sorry sir, but you must go to Hell. No Pagans allowed here."

"WHAT? Hell? But I don't believe in Hell!"

"Sorry, those are the rules, just follow the downward path to the left."

So our Pagan friend walks down to Hell, only to find the doors open. He warily goes in and looks around to see beautiful meadows, and animals happily roaming the surrounding woods. "Hmm, so far so good."

A voice behind him made him all but jump out of his skin "Can I help you?"

"SHEESH! Give a guy a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Ahem... a little too late for that, isn't it?" the guy said with a smile.

"Who are you, anyway?" our friend asks.

"Why, I'm Satan." the other one said with a slight bow.

"Satan?!" said our friend as he started looking around nervously.

"At your service... you're the Pagan guy Pete called us about, right?"

"Pete... oh the guy in Heaven, yes..." The Pagen eyes him carefully. "What's gonna happen to me now?"

"Well, you can hang out, there's some great fishing going on in the lake beyond these woods and, if you follow the road down this way, there's refreshments and a little market not too far and to your right. I believe the Pagan meeting grounds are just behind that hill..." Satan went on.

"Are you serious?"

Satan grinned at him innocently, "Why shouldn't I be? You don't believe the rumors, do you?"

Suddenly, in answer to our friend's growing fear, the vault of the skies open with a thunderous groan. The screams of terror of a soul plummeting down are drowned by the opening of a yawning chasm full of fire and brimstone. The stench of sulfur thickens the air. Thousands of howling, suffering, tortured voices echo through Hell. When the screaming soul finally falls into the pit, the ground shuts closed with a sickening thud that rattles all of the earth.

Our Pagan friend yelped in terror. "And what was *THAT* all about?"

Satan rolled his eyes and made a dismissive gesture with his hand as he said with a grimace, "Oh, just ignore them..." he rolled his eyes again. "They're Christians, and they wouldn't have it any other way."

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