So last night I dream that we're at some kind of party, Cleo comes over to me and says "You know you have no hope in hell of getting laid, don't you?".
Then Ash proceeds to prove Cleo, well, wrong.
I scare myself. I can't bear dreams like that and I don't get them often.
Morning. I expect.
Oh, and, ~meepage galore~ Where *is* the time machine when I need it?
I think I'm descended from Superman. Or I wouldn't go round life with this terrible urge to *fix* things.
Gah. ~feels useless~ Sigh.
On the other hand it's reinforcing my belief that I'm completely wasting my time and I could be spending it on someone much more productive*...possibly a good thing.
*But, er, not Ash. Please.
Conversations with many people over the last half hour or so :
Them : What's happened to *you*? -grin-
Me : What? Huh?
Them : I haven't seen you look this happy in ages!
Me : Oh. ~s~ Well, yeah.
Them : So...?
Me : Oh, nothing. ~g~
I'm listening to Erasure, which *must* mean I'm happy.
I *am* happy.
Baffled, but very happy.
Oh, and Roger Taylor, I hate you today. ~g~
Correction : I don't hate you, I just think you're an idiot. ~s~ Ah well.
I absolutely love Japan. They were a fantastic band. David Sylvian's voice is impossibly gorgeous.
Life is good.
~choke~ ~cough~ ~cough~ ~long silence~
Damn, I wish I'd known you guys a year ago, and that's a fact.
Back before he was a complete bastard, holy fuck he was attractive. G, you have *got* to see this, and then you've got to picture him with Amy Camus.
I am officially floored.
Although what the technical term for being that much of a ponce actually is, I don't know. ~g~
/random crypticness; sorry.
Fucking hell, Roger, you are Yesterday's News and a half.
May you live in interesting pants! I am *so* furious.
Don't mind me, everyone else, I'm just going to quietly fume for a while.
They say that love is blind; it isn't true -
It isn't love that's blind, my dear, it's *you*.
...I just missed the coach to our choir's concert. I'm in so much trouble. I didn't do it on porpoise - I was only a minute and a half late - but given the current situation with me and our choirmistress, I'm quite nervous.
In other news, I just got e-mail.
I'll be on cloud nine if anyone wants me.
I just got asked this by a questionnaire one of the younger years is doing. "If you were a kind of material, what would you be?"
Does anybody know what I'd be?
And what would *you* be, anyway?
This has got me all curious. And if you answer, I promise I'll shut up for today. ~g~
Later : I love my friends. I really do. More pretentious people in the world? There are none. Yay!