*crawls to computer*

I'm awake. Barely.

So much for spending the morning with the Paternal Unit. He called and wants to go tonight instead. Will have to get in touch with firewillow and see what to do about that.

Brain is still nestled happily on pillow with both cats. Fingers typing of their own accord. Am not responsible for content of this entry. ^_-

On the plus side, I was right: I do feel better now that I've slept. Still exhausted, so the nasty tricksy cognitive distortionses are lurking, but once I have the energy to write them down and pound the living crap out of them with my m4d l33t c0gn1t1v3 sk1llz it should be okay.

Gah.

My apartment is still a mess. *faceplant* Not quite as bad as before, but still.

Am still pretty this morning. *beam* I even bought some new nailpolish and a wee bit of makeup because I'm actually feeling pretty for the first time in, oh, I don't know, ten years or so. Is a nice feeling. Hope it lasts. :)

Oh, wait, no. I *did* feel pretty at my graduation dance (the equivalent of the prom for most of you, except mine was two years later, when I was eighteen). So that was... *counts*... seven years ago.

So am celebrating. :)

Pondering what to make for breakfast, or whether to make it at all. Am really kinda too tired to move. Stupid insomnia. I did sleep like a baby last night, but had really weird dreams.

The first one I remember was being involved in a political intrigue/murder-mystery kind of plotline, in which I was a character named Mortimer from a bande déssinée I really love. It's the adventures of Blake & Mortimer, wherein Blake is a British spy in the 1920s and Mortimer is an archaeologist/scientist (he invents lots of really kewl gadgets that can go back in time and what have you). This time we were trying to stop some kind of terrorist stealth attack in which they'd planted some kind of device somewhere. It was very exciting.

The other dream I remember took place on the oceanfront somewhere in Canada. I know it was Canada because I pointed it out several times to the "foreigners" in my dream. I think it might have been Prince Edward Island, but in my dream it looked nothing like that. The waves were much bigger and the wrong colour, for one, and the sand wasn't reddish the way it's supposed to. It was an odd dream, in which we were all taking part in a kind of training course in the metaphysical, and learning to control the intangible. Rather like Mage, in fact, but there was a lot more ritual involved, and a lot more technique. There was also a physically gruelling element (part of which involved running for a really long time through the ocean with the water at knee height or so), and as happens so often in my dreams I was actually pretty good at it: not the best and not the worst, but I could hold my own.

I remember there was a brief cameo in there of one of my old schoolmates, Émile Sanielevici, an annoying Romanian kid with whom I had a kind of like/hate relationship. He annoyed me to no end, and I thought he was a consummate slacker (he also dealt drugs in his spare time), but I couldn't bring myself to actually actively dislike him on a regular basis.

He died in 1999 in Philadelphia, the victim of a random hate crime. Some crazy guy decided that "the Jews" had destroyed his life (he was black, if that makes any difference) and so took out a semi-automatic and gunned down seven people at a McDonald's drive-through before running away and getting caught by the police.

It was tragic, because from what I'd heard Émile had finally gotten his act together and was living a happy and well-adjusted life down there, and it was cut short before he even turned twenty.

This is why I'm pro-gun laws, among other reasons.

I don't know why he even came up in my subconscious nearly four years later. Maybe because I was thinking of school and all the different directions my life has been taking of late.

Aaaaaugh!

Here I am, trying innocently to post to reparo and LJ WON'T POST!!!! 'cause poor Bill is a free user. :(

I don't want to buy an account for Bill. I already have too many bills to pay (hah hah, that's an awful pun and I didn't even intend it that way *faceplants*).

In other words, I want to post with some people on Reparo. Notably mhw and angelevangeline. The Weasleys need to get their act together.

Yurgh. Am feeling kinda sick. I may lie down for a while.

Scattered day of a scattered Phnee

Was awoken by shrill ring of phone. Was the Paternal Unit. Don't remember what was said, as I was 90% asleep. Something about postponing lunch and futon-shopping by a few hours. Was all good with me.

Started writing new Reparo post with mhw which I think is going to be really good once it's finished. Damn him and griffen, I had been priding myself on Bill's being the only Weasley son *not* to have landed in St. Mungo's, dammit! ^_-

Spent afternoon with father, found only futons that were ugly and expensive, and so will be looking elsewhere this weekend.

Had pleasant dinner with firewillow who took photos of the new hairdo with her digital camera. I'd forgotten that I always look better in the small version of those things. I photograph incredibly badly. Not to mention that the 'do kind of went flat by the end of the day. But what can you do?

( View at your own risk )

So there's me, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, for those of you who've never seen me before. We were at Reuben's Deli, hence the bottles of alcohol in the background.