Damn You, Ginny Weasley...Damn You...

I am really tired and I will tell you why. I woke up at about 1:00 pm, on Friday. I went to work, I came home. I then stayed up all night reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Then I had 40 minutes of sleep before work. Then I went to work where I was so tired I could hardly even speak coherently. I came home and fell asleep, and awoke to my mother bearing pizza boxes for dinner. I ate most of a vegetarian pizza with black olives, rolled over, and went back to sleep. And I woke up about an hour ago. And I am just so damned tired, still.
Wheee! Chinese yo-yo's are fun!
Anyway, I am going to go and draw three catgirls of my own creatin, who I plan on doing in a highly detailed manner. There names are Champaign, Peridot, and Myrrh.
I need to draw more guys...

Musical Quote of the Day

"And all the miles that separate
It's all so clear now when I'm dreaming of your face

I'm hear without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time
I'm hear without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight it's only you and me"

-Three Doors Down Title: Here Without You

I use this song because when I do sleep, my dreams are full of visions of what I'm going to call "The Encounter". I pretend not to know, not to think about it, but in actual fact my mind is constantly revolving around this, I just mask it pretty well. I try to forget, but it's different this time. I know it is, because my body is telling me so in a physical sense. For example, I was talking with a friend who, for sake of amonimity, I will call Giraffe. Giraffe revealed to me some information about "The Encounter" that I did not know, and it scared me. He went to look for more to tell me, so as to maybe calm me down and answer some questions. During this MSN conversation, there were long periods of time where Giraffe was away, searching his computer files for something to tell me as I e-screamed questions at him. I sat here, in my spaghetti strap and panties, and I had previously been fine. But by now I was shivering violently. I felt my forehead, and it was covered in clammy sweat. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop shaking. I felt sick, like the bottom of my stomach had fallen out and thought any minute I was going to vomit. And then I realized why I was trembling so much; I was quaking with supressed sobs. Giraffe came back, and told me to calm down, it wasn't what I thought it was. I was in the middle of typing a very angry email to the cause of my pain, but Giraffe said that it was okay, and there was no need to panic. But that's how I knew it is different. My body has never had such an immediate and violent reaction to anything like that before. At least I didn't send that email...that would have sucked.


You know what I hate (on a completely different note)? Giant clams. I went to the seafood department to return a bad fish so that they could dispose of it properly, and I was walking past the big tanks of fish, lobsters, crabs, mussels and oysters, etc etc etc. It was sufficiently grossing me out. I love seafood, but only when it's dead and called sushi. So I leant over a tank to give the attendant back the fish, and I looked down. It was giant clams. I think. Anyway, I saw the characteristic shell, held closed with elastic bands, but then I saw something that made me wretch. Coming out of the clams was I assume their innards. Long, thick, orange tubes of whatever the hell is inside clams. I know that clams use them like suction elastics to move around. They send their...extension...out to cling on to something, and then they reel themselves in. I, however, could think of nothing else except Chris's highly useful information on the clam's penis, which, proportionate to it's body, has the world's longest penis. And as I walked away, grimacing, trying to figure out how (and why) clam's have sex anyway, I decided that I am never going to eat clams. Giant or otherwise.