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x_losAh! Why have I spent the past two weeks so sleep disordered? Last night I had to drug myself twice to finally get knocked out at 3 or 4 am? (Don't know exactly.) only to wake up at 9 am sharp and be incapable of getting back to sleep.
Wtf, body? Do you not like functioning? Do you think I look good sleep-deprived and confused? I assure you, the current Raccoon-Eyes-with-Mussed-Jewfro look is not sexy. It only makes me look like Barbara Streisand in the depressing bits of The Way We Were or possibly the Really Extra Rabid Raccoon from the Writer's House sophomore year (the one that rocked out in the dumpster and tried, foamily, to nomnom Tracy and Therese). Same difference.
Also, hair: plz to be not sticking out like you are trying to send explorers out onto other people's heads to colonize them. If you must be an Imperialist Fro, be more discrete re: your ebol planz. Though the day a strand of you invaded my ex's beard and horrified him hours later in a philo class b/c where the fuck had you even come from was pretty hillarious, and I give you props b/c obv. your efforts at conquest are taking a multi-lateral approach.
If the head-hair-tentacle is analagous to direct invasion then you, scout hairs, are commercial penetration, the East India Company of Coifs. The day you bring back from your wanderings enough bullion to fulfill a wealth-of-nations style exchange I will be impressed, but not surprised, at your skill.
Also I dreamed last night of being my youngest sister and having an opossum stuck under the drain in the bathtub, it's long rat-tail lashing out from under the drain, threatening to touch me if I took a bath. I was repulsed by the idea that it would.
It had crawled under the drain in a dark mass that looked nothing like an opossum, so much as just a clump-thing, but it's tail size suggested it was far too large to be in that drain/have crawled in.
And my step father, or her birth father I guess, though I still didn't like him in the dream, explained that they'd put poison in the pipes and that the opossums down there were all dead, rotting in the drain, with an implication that they'd been flushed out by acid, that everything was burned through. But that tail was still lashing back and forth.
Night before last (the 3? 4? hours I slept of it) I was missing a class I was supposed to go to while sketching something in this amalgam of the National Gallery in London (it was tagged that in my mind, it didn't look like it), a cave back in Missouri and the Alhambra in Granada. (It was somehow like 1880 in my head, I was dressed like it, pretty stylish but in a kind of horrible cream color, I didn't look good.) It was a long, stone catacomb thing with a lake between you and an opposing stone balcony where the lectures were delivered. Stone benches on my side, a stream/pool running between audience and presenter, a clutch of objects on the presenter's precenium, like a red chair and a wood box, v. bright and lovly and well-peopled. Then Poe came in to give a lecture and I left to run to class only to realize that I was supposed to be at the lecture I'd just left in the water-gallery and run back, only to find Poe gone and someone else talking, and to run around to try and find his talk w/ no success. I panicked. I was going to fail if I couldn't find this.
There was another scarier one that night but I can't remember it.
Wtf, body? Do you not like functioning? Do you think I look good sleep-deprived and confused? I assure you, the current Raccoon-Eyes-with-Mussed-Jewfro look is not sexy. It only makes me look like Barbara Streisand in the depressing bits of The Way We Were or possibly the Really Extra Rabid Raccoon from the Writer's House sophomore year (the one that rocked out in the dumpster and tried, foamily, to nomnom Tracy and Therese). Same difference.
Also, hair: plz to be not sticking out like you are trying to send explorers out onto other people's heads to colonize them. If you must be an Imperialist Fro, be more discrete re: your ebol planz. Though the day a strand of you invaded my ex's beard and horrified him hours later in a philo class b/c where the fuck had you even come from was pretty hillarious, and I give you props b/c obv. your efforts at conquest are taking a multi-lateral approach.
If the head-hair-tentacle is analagous to direct invasion then you, scout hairs, are commercial penetration, the East India Company of Coifs. The day you bring back from your wanderings enough bullion to fulfill a wealth-of-nations style exchange I will be impressed, but not surprised, at your skill.
Also I dreamed last night of being my youngest sister and having an opossum stuck under the drain in the bathtub, it's long rat-tail lashing out from under the drain, threatening to touch me if I took a bath. I was repulsed by the idea that it would.
It had crawled under the drain in a dark mass that looked nothing like an opossum, so much as just a clump-thing, but it's tail size suggested it was far too large to be in that drain/have crawled in.
And my step father, or her birth father I guess, though I still didn't like him in the dream, explained that they'd put poison in the pipes and that the opossums down there were all dead, rotting in the drain, with an implication that they'd been flushed out by acid, that everything was burned through. But that tail was still lashing back and forth.
Night before last (the 3? 4? hours I slept of it) I was missing a class I was supposed to go to while sketching something in this amalgam of the National Gallery in London (it was tagged that in my mind, it didn't look like it), a cave back in Missouri and the Alhambra in Granada. (It was somehow like 1880 in my head, I was dressed like it, pretty stylish but in a kind of horrible cream color, I didn't look good.) It was a long, stone catacomb thing with a lake between you and an opposing stone balcony where the lectures were delivered. Stone benches on my side, a stream/pool running between audience and presenter, a clutch of objects on the presenter's precenium, like a red chair and a wood box, v. bright and lovly and well-peopled. Then Poe came in to give a lecture and I left to run to class only to realize that I was supposed to be at the lecture I'd just left in the water-gallery and run back, only to find Poe gone and someone else talking, and to run around to try and find his talk w/ no success. I panicked. I was going to fail if I couldn't find this.
There was another scarier one that night but I can't remember it.
