On the bright side, I have the financial aid papers I need now, my house is stocked with my favorite kind of healthy cereal, it's not a millions degrees out today, I found my "Requiem for a Dream" music track, and Avatar will be on tonight again like it has all week. My icon-making mojo also seems to be back. I think this is cause for celebration.
On the 'eeeeeh?' side, I was having whacked-up dreams last night (but when have my dreams ever been normal, really?) and I can remember then happening in, like, chapters.![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
pained_life was there, and I think you were telling me something that you would have told me in real-life, though I can't remember what it was. But my brain made you very in-character, I'm rather proud of myself. I think there were vampires involved too, but that's a given. The entire thing seemed to point to the fact that I shouldn't read Johnny the Homicidal Maniac comics right before bed. Like the moon, Nny. Like the moon. Gawd, what a depressing ending.
On the not-so-awesome side, I woke up with a bloody nose. While blood doesn't squick me out at all, it's still really annoying to have to clean the blood out of everything, like the carpet (thankfully it was the little one I can just throw in the washing machine) and the bedsheets (see 'carpet' for details) and the linoleum tiling (themajor_lift understands--Wesley Snipes punched me in the face this morning, that's clearly how it started). I managed to get blood like, all over my face and hands and the sink looked like something out of a cheesy horror movie. I even managed to get it on my leg and on my cleavage--AND NOW I HAVE TO WASH MY BRA TOO GAWDDAMN--and it was kind of annoying. Very lucky for me, it stopped just a few minutes after it started. But there was a lot of blood. I took notes for those of you who happen to write stories involving blood:
OBSERVATION 01: Blood doesn't really work artistically, unless you're painting on something that soaks it up really well. Like my bedsheets. :| In general, blood on skin doesn't spread all nice and smooth and pretty (...or creepy, rather) but instead kind of clumps up like water does and dries really really fast and then gets all flaky and gross. Blood =/= paint. My serial killer characters are all severely disappointed, now.
OBSERVATION 02: When you've swallowed blood, be it your own or... Someone... Elses... It screws with your voice. It's sort of like how it feels when you've had a really big glass of milk and your voice is all weird because of it. Same deal, that bubbly, 'I've got something slimy perpetually stuck in my throat' feeling and sound.
Y'all probably think I'm crazy now, but I assure you I'm totally sane. |Db I just don't have any problem with blood whatsoever. ...Unless it's in my rug that I have to wash, then I hate it. XD
On the 'eeeeeh?' side, I was having whacked-up dreams last night (but when have my dreams ever been normal, really?) and I can remember then happening in, like, chapters.
pained_life was there, and I think you were telling me something that you would have told me in real-life, though I can't remember what it was. But my brain made you very in-character, I'm rather proud of myself. I think there were vampires involved too, but that's a given. The entire thing seemed to point to the fact that I shouldn't read Johnny the Homicidal Maniac comics right before bed. Like the moon, Nny. Like the moon. Gawd, what a depressing ending.On the not-so-awesome side, I woke up with a bloody nose. While blood doesn't squick me out at all, it's still really annoying to have to clean the blood out of everything, like the carpet (thankfully it was the little one I can just throw in the washing machine) and the bedsheets (see 'carpet' for details) and the linoleum tiling (
themajor_lift understands--Wesley Snipes punched me in the face this morning, that's clearly how it started). I managed to get blood like, all over my face and hands and the sink looked like something out of a cheesy horror movie. I even managed to get it on my leg and on my cleavage--AND NOW I HAVE TO WASH MY BRA TOO GAWDDAMN--and it was kind of annoying. Very lucky for me, it stopped just a few minutes after it started. But there was a lot of blood. I took notes for those of you who happen to write stories involving blood:OBSERVATION 01: Blood doesn't really work artistically, unless you're painting on something that soaks it up really well. Like my bedsheets. :| In general, blood on skin doesn't spread all nice and smooth and pretty (...or creepy, rather) but instead kind of clumps up like water does and dries really really fast and then gets all flaky and gross. Blood =/= paint. My serial killer characters are all severely disappointed, now.
OBSERVATION 02: When you've swallowed blood, be it your own or... Someone... Elses... It screws with your voice. It's sort of like how it feels when you've had a really big glass of milk and your voice is all weird because of it. Same deal, that bubbly, 'I've got something slimy perpetually stuck in my throat' feeling and sound.
Y'all probably think I'm crazy now, but I assure you I'm totally sane. |Db I just don't have any problem with blood whatsoever. ...Unless it's in my rug that I have to wash, then I hate it. XD
mood: busy
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