go back to the index

who am i?

who are they

me

November 11, 1999.

"Are there really people naïve enough to believe that their comfortable way of life would survive a minute if all their armed forces magically disappeared? Evidently; I meet 'em all over." - spider robinson

divider

Waiting for the phone to ring...

Blood hunt at the Storyteller's house tonight. Caliban (a.k.a. the Boy) has promised to phone me during the event & give me an as-it-happens run down. I don't expect vampires carry cell phones...but then again, we're not vampires, are we?

divider

Busy day at work today. I very nearly played on my parent's surprisingly ample sympathies in order to stay home...but I have to start getting up in the morning's sooner or later. I think I'm still on Edmonton time, crazy as that seems. I know it's only a 2 hour difference, but that coupled with holiday rising times has made me a very lazy strumpet of late. I told my parents that I didn't want to push myself after Monday's migraine - something I wasn't terribly concerned about, tell truth. I more or less just wanted to stay in bed. But decades of reliable behavior count for something I guess, because they were touchingly concerned.

Which makes me feel horribly guilty. But I suppose that'll pass.

divider

I've been reading the Decameron at work lately; partly because I have nothing else to read right now, partly because it's subtext for my character and partly because it's homework. Yup, I've found a way to do all 3 things at once. I multitask so well sometimes I make myself sick.

Anyway, I was deep in the Third Day today, i.e. the day they give up all pretense at decorum and tell each other stories about young wives fucking ribald monks to pass Sunday afternoon. It's unbelievable. I've never heard so many puns on screwing and holy observances in my life...quite the contrast to last weekend, I can tell you. It's actually making me bored. I'd find it more interesting if the point of the story wasn't the wily adventures of a "healthy" young woman motivated by the pursuit of constant cock.

I have no idea what I'm going to write for class when I'm done.

back to basicsforward to death