Currents of Time

I was reading a fic last night! Transformers, picked it up browsing one of those rec-communities, or maybe tfiwts, I don't remember (doesn't matter), anyway. Someone gets a car, weird things happen, DECEPTICON CAR CHASE OH NO THE CAR ISN'T RESPONDING NOW WHAT oh it's a robot and - I sit back and go, oh my god I know I've never read this but I can't prove it and what if someone accuses me of copying it?! It's just a weird fluke, I swear!. These things happen sometimes! THERE ARE ONLY SO MANY WAYS THESE SCENES CAN PLAY OUT, ANYWAY! But it was published a almost a full month before mine! And I don't think I ever posted any of that scene prior to the finished story because I was always stressed about it! AAAUGH!

A few hours later, I remember - "GT" went up in 2007, not 2008. durrr....


Still, that was a fun, what, fifteen minutes I got to spend in a state of panic, wondering how I'd defend myself should the subject ever come up. MY BRAIN. ~__~ (The fact that the first movie also goes similarly has, for some reason, never made me freak out.)



In other news, I'm going to try to make beef stew tonight.

It is 3 AM I am not in bed no I do not know why how is it this late.


I keep thinking I want to rename this journal. WOULD THAT BE CONFUSING? (Note: odds of me actually spending the money for it are slim to none. But maybe someday.) I don't know. I waver! I like this name just fine, but lots of people have their LJ name and their name-name be similar and mine are not. Sometimes it bothers me. Sometimes I think I am being silly.

...Sometimes I stay up until 3 am writing and editing fanfiction, though, so obviously I'm not exactly the person to listen to, here. (Interesting fact! I have noticed I am almost incapable of writing the middle of and anything beyond the very introduction of a story unless I know how it ends! So I've spent the last several days trying to work out how to end this beast and I am still nowhere near close. I REFUSE TO BACKBURNER IT FOR ANOTHER YEAR. WORK FASTER, BRAIN.) (A post describing my bizarre story-writing process would probably be hilarious and hideously embarrassing, I think.)


So apparently there's this huge Dreamwidth thing going on. I signed in with Open ID last month to look around and see what the big deal was, and apparently this got me an invite code. Who knew.



Man. My class starts in 39 hours. I... seriously need to get started on that paper. SOMEDAY THIS PROCRASTINATING WILL COME BACK AND BITE ME. Possibly as soon as Monday. I don't know. I am still kind of annoyed at being kicked out of my work experience for no reason, so it's hard to want to write a five-page paper on my experience (it would only have to be a two-page paper if I'd been able to stay on and do something nice for the people hosting me! Honestly, the length doesn't bother me - five pages is nothing. It's the principle of it all). The last two pages would be all AND THEN THEY DECIDED THEY WERE DONE WITH ME AND I SPENT LIKE A MONTH TRYING TO FIND A NEW INTERNSHIP ONLY NO ONE WANTS ME BECAUSE... I DON'T KNOW? Or something. I'll do it. I just don't want to. WHINE WHINE WHINE


IT IS 3 AM WHY DO YOU EXPECT ME TO MAKE SENSE.

- - came out on DVD earlier this week (Tuesday). I never got to see it before (it was only at the local cinema for about a week...) and my mother wanted to see it, too, so we rented it.

I adore Disney films. Even - especially, perhaps - the older animated ones. Why? I don't know. I just do. Disney is awesome. And I really enjoyed Enchanted!



But, I don't remember exactly when? While Giselle and Robert are talking, she does that... "putting my hand on your chest!" thing, vaguely similar to what Sam is always doing with Annie in Life on Mars, and my awful, horrid Brain immediately went: My name is Giselle. I had an accident and woke up in...

... Well, I'm sure you can figure out where things went from there. Argh.

Jecca's day:

( Chatlogs with Brain )

So apparently I am writing this now, because Aniko likes my Brain and feeds it Brain-cookies, and the thing was writing itself anyway, and augh.

It's the actual title of an article in a paper Mom brought home yesterday. It has nothing to do with ReBoot. I felt a bit cheated. (That's okay, so did Mom, who also likes the show.)

It's not even about someone named Dot Matrix. Her nickname's Dot, I guess, but her last name was something else entirely. I don't remember what. Nothing terribly interesting, apparently.


New Resident Evil today! I will go see it! It will not be as fun, because I will probably be by myself and in a full theater, as opposed to with a bunch of other crazy people from Dorm Life on student's dollar movie night where we all make fun of it. (Also, I had a dream with zombies in it, or at least a conversation about zombies. Something about how if Claire from Heroes is indestructible, if there was a Zombie Apocalypse, would the zombies succeed in zombificating and/or eating her? Or would she dezombify/heal up again once they stopped gnawing on her? Or would she be an indestructible zombie? Why can't I ever have conversations like this in real life?)


Aniko and I had more insane conversations over Instant Messenger last night, but I will not attack you with excerpts from it because it's almost all Transformers-related, so I do not think anyone cares! XD

But I have apparently roped myself into drawing something truly awful that goes against all laws of things that are right and good in the universe. I do not approve of my Brain when it does these things to me. ANIKO, IT'S NOT NICE TO TAKE ADVANTAGE. YOU KNOW I CAN'T RESIST THE BRAIN AFTER 11 PM.


Oh! And the newest expansion pack for Final Fantasy XI's finally had more details announced! Apparently they're adding "Dancer" as a job. ...meh? IT IS NOT THIEF SO I DO NOT CARE. THF THF THF THF THF


Edit:
THIS JUST IN.

I AM USELESS AT EVERYTHING. *fails*

They stole our phone. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THEM. To add insult to injury, despite our lack of phone, we still receive calls, and so must run across the store like useless twits, looking for the nearest available phone. Often only to run back to check the cakes in the display, or to rummage through the bins of decorations to see if we have Cinderella, or whatever it is they want.

I wonder what they are going to take next. There are not many things left - we are mostly limited to the oven and the counters. If they do not finish these renovations soon, I fear I shall go insane.

Saw three Corvettes, today, though! Two different black ones and a red one. They are such pretty, pretty cars. bwee!


Not sure what else I need to do to convince people to write me letters. Writing to them doesn't work, writing back to them on the very, very rare occasional that they do write doesn't work. Perhaps it is all of the ridiculous doodles I put throughout. Guys! If you do not want to write me letters, please just say so and stop claiming you are really, really going to (really), because it makes me sad then, when you do not. I am starved for any kind of social interaction, and it is not fair to hold out such a tempting morsel and then draw it back away as you are. Fiends, the lot of you. (To be perfectly fair, I do have one person I have a sort-of-fairly-regularly-almost letter-writing thing going on with. Long live snail mail!)


This song is annoying. No, no, it is not tricky to "rock a rhyme that's right on time." How could that possibly be tricky? Better yet, why are you bothering to sing about how it is tricky, as opposed to just attempting it? Unless this song is supposed to show us your cleverness. NOT CLEVER. Also, ANNOYING. Certainly not tricky, though, I concede that we are, perhaps, working with different definitions of the word, "tricky."


Meanwhile, in the ongoing saga of, "I'm Not British, I Swear," I was apparently adopting some sort of accent this evening. I was unaware of it until my mother asked about it. I hold no delusions that it actually sounded even remotely British (though that is what she called it), as I am Not British (and should I ever find myself on the other side of the ocean and am struck by one of these apparent vocal glitches, I am quite sure I would be laughed off the land mass. This same idea is what kept me from attempting much Japanese while in Japan), but it was a bit disconcerting. Where was it coming from? Why? How did I not notice my manner of speech changing? CURSE YOU, BRAIN. (The other possibility, the one I favor, is that the ninety-plus-degrees-plus-humidity weather has fried her and she was experiencing auditory hallucinations. Or, my father was watching Doctor Who recently. Maybe she was hearing some of that somehow.)


Could this entry be any more random? (Perhaps the heat has gotten to me.) I think it could. Aniko and I should never be allowed to speak to each other after 11 pm. I end up helping her transform her Alternators (long distance! It is a good thing I have a digital camera, or else I'd never have been able to film Wheeljack's transformation for her!) though she does not need help with her really small ones (she has the same two as me, and I call them WSTs, even though it is wrong!), and then she ends up telling me what she is doing with them (that is most of the really short story behind this picture and all its relatives), and then she convinces me I need to write stories about it. So we get things like this:

( This ties into the TF/TG crossover somehow. )

I am going to bed now.