Deliverance

*squees and happy dances*

Also, I think I may -finally- have a second job doing programming, and I had an awesome time hanging out with M. tonight. All in all, a day that didn't start off promising ended pretty well.

Petrification

I am turning into stone. Not the kind of stone that sits, stodgy, in the middle of a desert weathering slowly. The kind that turns plastic in earthquakes and slithers down hills taking McMansions with formerly fantastic views of the California coast along with it. I'm going to be a nervous wreck and spastically checking email all day.

Alright, now that's out of my system...

I will try to post some knitting and vacation pics later today, since I've been wanting to use my camera more and this will give me a nice excuse. Right now I'm working on a scarf. Very, very simple, but something I will need next winter as my current one is kinda tired. After that I think I'm going to try a simple blanket. H. and I brainstormed some ideas, and I think it will be a bunch of "sampler squares", 12x12 in the same color, and the same border, but demonstrating different stitch patterns, which I will subsequently sew together. This I think will come out looking nice (given it's monochromatic, the textures will not be distracting), and it will get me used to using patterns and different kinds of stitches. I'm thinking maybe golden brown for color.

Shelfari is my new awesome. I'm hoping to find time to update it later today, but first I have to do some errands and such. Why did I sleep past my alarm? Sigh.

Yea bags?

I have a yarn bag now.

H. would disapprove because I didn't make it, I bought it, but pfft. I like canvas better, and it is cute. Plus I've always wanted a big messenger bag and wasn't ever able to justify buying one. It has pockets too, so I have a place for my needles, yarn, current project, and a book if I'm working out of one. ^_^

She's Such a Geek! is the best book I have ever read.

Poison

Sir Issac Newton was a bastard.

He was, undoubtedly, a brilliant man. But he had a nasty habit of writing up his work and holding on to it. He would go as far as writing letters to his so-called colleagues, taunting them with hints to the answers they were seeking that he had supposedly already uncovered. Then, when they inevitably scooped him, he would (ab)use his substantial influence as England and Europe's primier scientist to shut them down and insert his work first.

I've done the "Newton was a bastard" spiel many times. I never thought I would say I knew exactly how Newton felt.

My little sister is 15. She's everything I'm not- social, outgoing, confident, driven. I blame this on her having a stable environment since she was in elementary school, whereas my education was punctuated by any number of school changes and moves across state lines. But I don't really know. It could well be that she is simply better at playing life than I am.

There are very few accomplishments in life that really mean much to me. One of them, for most of my life, has been to become a published author. I've worked a long time at it. But I always told myself there would time in the future to worry about it, made excuses for rarely showing my work to anyone, letting it idle on my hard drive, never quite finishing anything. Convincing myself that if I couldn't be the best I couldn't be anything. Telling myself that because I was so harshly critical of other people, and felt justified in this criticism, that others would take the same approach with me.

Last month my baby sister wrote a book. Not "literature", one of those gossipy teen novels. But she wrote it, in a single month, and she finished it. And now she's submitting it, and has already gotten an email from a literary agent wanting to see a manuscript.

I know there is a huge gap between that and publication. But I am so full of jealousy, frustration, resentment, and self-anger that I want to wring her skinny perfect neck. My own sister.

I feel like she stole something from me. I feel like she took this thing that was mine, alone, in our family, and usurped me. Such thinking is, of course, completely illogical.

But it's too late. If she does get this thing published, from now on anything I do will be something she did first, something I did to parrot or catch up with her.

I'm writing this on my fifteen minute work break, time I should be getting food since I haven't eaten yet today. I had to get this out, before it killed me.

I hate nightmares.

In a way, I can kind of appreciate the creativity in some of them- sometimes, like any dream, things emerge from them that I am certain will stay with me awhile and be used in some fashion. (I'm sure the grim rider will- I can't even shut my eyes right now. H. will, however, sardonically appreciate that after I described a fleeting glimpse of it in the dream, someone asked me, "What, like Death's horse". "No," I replied, "No, this was entirely different." More like an ill omen than Death...)

But mostly, I hate them.

I don't get them often, but when I do, sleep quickly becomes out of the question.

So here I sit writing, shuddering, at a quarter til five, hoping to make it til morning.

Just for L...

The sorting hat says that I belong in Ravenclaw!

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Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose intelligence is surest."

Ravenclaw students tend to be clever, witty, intelligent, and knowledgeable.
Notable residents include Cho Chang and Padma Patil (objects of Harry and Ron's affections), and Luna Lovegood (daughter of The Quibbler magazine's editor).

Take the most scientific Harry Potter Quiz ever created.

Get Sorted Now!

Ravenclaw - 80
Gryffindor - 74
Hufflepuff - 65
Slytherin - 64

To put a bizarre twist on this quiz, I've taken ones like it before, and I usually (inexplicably) come out torn between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

What does it mean?????