Network

In light of what was brought to light recently, and especially because of the post Mister Valjean posted himself, I would like to give my opinion on the matter. That opinion is as follows:

Ultime Fauchelevent is a good man, and I know that Jean Valjean was as well. He made a mistake and served his time for it, and that is all that can be asked of him. Let us not criticize him for past mistakes, nor continue to make him pay for them. What is done is done.

He has been nothing but welcoming to myself and my friends, taking us into his home and under his wing. I cannot imagine him as anything but good, honest, fair, and humane.

Let us allow he and his daughter to live in peace.

Hey sweetheart,
How are you? Did you have any joy finding your phone? If not, do you have a new number? I miss you! Want to go out somewhere with me? Movies? Zoo? :)
Ex

Before I forget. A week from Wednesday there's this party thing. My roommate's book is being published and they're having a release party. You want to come with me? There won't be any Yahtzee, but I can promise drinks and good company.

I meet with a gentlemen on Thursday about breeding his privately owned Amur Tiger. I'm a lizard girl, primarily, but given the zoo's tiny staff I suddenly find myself the most qualified person on payroll to handle breeding requests across all species. Suppose that three year stint in Australasia did me some good after all (Take that student loans!).

Typically I'm against exotic creatures as household pets but in cases like this it's such a blessing to have even one more specimen healthy enough to contribute to the population. And if the data I've received is any indication, she should have no trouble catching provided she and the stud like one another enough.

Yes. Even in the animal kingdom girls are picky.

In any case I am exceptionally excited. Too excited to sleep in fact so I'm off for a jog. (Julian, if you're reading this never fear, I've brought the pepper spray with me).

It's my first time all the way to the west coast, and I have to say, I like it a hell of a lot more than living in Las Vegas. Perhaps because it's close to the ocean and not in the middle of a desert. Plus, it gets darker out here than working on the Strip. It's a nice change. A guy could get used to it.

So what's there to do for fun around here? I'm sure that nothing beats the night life in Vegas, but how does the OC compare?

Unfortunately, I've been working night shifts for nearly ten years, so I'm afraid fun in the sun is quite out of the question. My daytimes are sacrosanct. Strictly nighttime offers only.

Last night, I dreamt of my old foster sister. As in the kind of insane dream that everyone here seems to get.

...I'm really not sure what to make of that. At least she got out in that world too

((TW for references to abuse in the comments.))

[Private from Frodo and Merrill]
(and she can't decide about Mary, so she keeps locking and unlocking it)

I miss home. I can't believe anyone could do something like this, and I just want a hug from my mom.

Who would have thought that being awake could be more confusing than the dreams?

I think I have lost track over the months. Just how many people here have dreamed of Voldermort, the war, quidditch and Hogwarts? Out of curiosity that is because I do not think I have met or talked to but a few of you.

I can't believe Spring is already here. I was just talking to someone about plans for summer, and all this college stuff, where we are getting in and planning on going and things like that.

Senior year is going by way too fast.

Caroline, I have that scarf I borrowed for you in my car.

( hi valarnet. have some existential angst tldr )

All of those things said, bits of some of my dreams are getting new and interesting details that I did not pick up on the first time through. Is it just me, or Grantaire, is dream you a little bit obsessed with me?

( TW for death just to be safe )

So, bachelor parties. Or specifically, mine.

Before you ask, no, there won't be strippers (unless Thor gets drunk and loses his pants, which I put the odds at 50/50) but I fully intend for it to be an awesome night. Renting out Disneyland for the night, starting at Midnight and going until dawn.

Men, women, whatever. Gender friendly and I am going to personally buy you all mouse ears, all right?

And you will wear them.

This Friday. Be there.

Not only did I, finally, have another dream last night, but when I woke up, the red leather jacket that I've been wearing in the dreams was hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I'm seriously already in love with this jacket. I'm not even that into clothes and stuff like that, but this jacket is gorgeous. I might never take it off.

Now, about my dream. The Doctor took me to New New York in five billion and fifty three on New Earth. I found out a little about his last Companion and that he'd brought her there before too. Can you say rebound? And then I got kidnapped so that this couple could get into the future version of the carpool lane, called the Motorway. Except that it wasn't exactly faster, because it was going to take six years for my kidnappers to reach where they were going. At one point we started hearing strange noises and they told me about stories about cars disappearing. Suffice to say, we almost got killed by alien crab things that fed off the gas from the cars or something like that. In the end The Doctor saved us and then there was this giant head called The Face of Boe that died after telling The Doctor something. I also found out a little more about The Doctor before we left.

Annie, the girl who kidnapped me looked exactly like you, but her name was Cheen.

Does anyone else get just exhausted whenever people ask where you're from? I mean, sure, I've got an accent. But isn't it quite obvious I've come from Scotland?

I think all Brits that move to America must be troubled with this too. I feel it's the very first thing I get from people: "Are you from Scotland?" Bloody hell, of course I am. How else would I have gotten the accent? Not exactly the prettiest one, I'd say, so why would anyone just try and learn it?

If the question's just meant to make small talk, it's bad. Small talk is probably evil.

Suppose I've just heard the question so much that I've started to get annoyed.

...And I suppose that introduces me quite nicely. I'm Elissa Cousland, and I'm from Scotland. Where are you from?

So, I went in to see my PR rep on Friday. We were going to discuss the whole singing thing, since during the week of the sing-along in the OC, I'm convinced that recording an album is not the answer for me. We talked about my options, and discussed maybe acting. Cameos, walk-ons, that sort of thing.

Yesterday, when I went back, I was surprised to find a half dozen casting agents there to meet me. And acting coaches. This is turning into quite the operation. Today I went and had new head shots taken. It's moving kinda fast, but I love it! I'm excited!

Also, I think Artichokes are my favorite vegetable ever.

For those who were concerned, my nose was in fact broken. But not out of shape, so it didn't need to be reset, thank god.

In better news, one mister Robert Frobisher and I will be headed out of town starting tomorrow. My parents have a lovely little place out near Napa and we've managed to snag it for ourselves for a week or so.

I'm a bit nervous I've never taken anyone out there before, so hopefully it goes well.

I honestly can't believe it. I feel like a teenager again, I'm positively giddy over this.

Lord, I think I'm blushing.

I know that the singing thing is over (at least I hope so), but I still feel like I should be singing something from Fiddler on the Roof. Matchmaker, maybe?

Two people here owe me and Kitty lunch.