lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
So okay, we had Christmas brunch with Dad's side of the family today.

From my uncle Johnny, who is wonderful, I received the following book:

Pride and Prejudice
and Zombies


by Jane Austen and
Seth Grahame-Smith


It's not, in fact, written on the cover in blinky text, but it should be.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
  • My dad came back from his six-week trip to China! He is on the phone telling my uncle hilarious stories about it.
  • Last night I dreamed in epic sci-fi. That's not really out of the ordinary. It was pretty sweet, though; first I was Temperance Brennan rescuing an alien civilization from... something... and then I was an annoying twelve-year-old boy with blue eyes setting up (well, more like taking over) an expedition to rescue a suspiciously similar alien civilization from a suspiciously similar thing.

    As a twelve-year-old boy I also had psychic powers, specifically the ability to use other people's thoughts to change the world. That sounds vague and bizarre, and it really is; in the dream I knew that my powers worked under a perfectly logical set of rules, but I had no idea what they were. I pretty much played it by ear. I remember locating the aliens' planet using a note one of them had written saying they were all doomed because nobody was coming to their rescue, and I remember holding hands with two or three people-- also, I think, twelve-year-old boys-- who were part of an organization that I think was trying to make money off rescuing the aliens.

    I used their thoughts to translocate the whole group of us into orbit, build an entire functioning spaceship around us with the power of my mind, and set us on course for the alien planet. Then I woke up.

    No, I have no idea what the hell we were rescuing the aliens from. It didn't seem important.

    Oh, and I also remember demanding payment-- I pointed to one of the guys with the organization and said I wanted to be paid exactly the amount of money he, personally, had spent on this endeavour. He laughed and said he hadn't spent any money yet. My response? "Well, that's not very poetic."
  • I'm still offering two thousand icons to anybody who gets me a STARFIGHTER shirt! I promise I'll shut up about that eventually.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Dreaming you're Ogata Rin is awesome.

Especially when the rest of the dream largely concerns some kind of space station with centrifugal pseudo-gravity (all the floors curve up) wherein you can travel forward or backward through time by walking (or riding your RideBack) spinward or antispinward.

There was also some stuff about having adventures and shit, but mostly all I remember is that I was a ballet dancer riding a motorcycle with arms in space. And it was awesome.

Wait what.

Apr. 14th, 2009 07:06 am
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I had a dream populated with incredibly true-to-life versions of people from my old high school.

Premise: I was back there for a day or two to make a fool of myself repeatedly in a variety of utterly bizarre ways perform in a school play with a bunch of other people, all of whom had also graduated.

So many things are wrong with this picture. )

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