Network

Huh. Good to know I can rip these blue monster things in half.

Is everyone safe? Secure?

So, uh, that dream thing. I guess I'm part of the club now? They're weird, aren't they?

Also, to my clients who are all on here, I'll send you all e-mails in the morning, but just a heads up I'll need to reschedule our appointments. My asthma's flaring up pretty bad, so for the time being I'll be sort of ... Out of commission I guess.

I wanted to give the Valar people first crack at this announcement, since it was on the Valarnet that I got my big break. Alice, I'm sorry for not telling you beforehand, but I literally just got the title and the okay to proceed with the transfer of capital.

Mrs. Tesla has decided to close Fayth, in Mission Viejo, as she and her husband are headed for other pastures. She's sold me the space and the business capital, and with her blessing, I've decided to reopen under a new name. Fayth was Lulu's brainchild, and I would prefer for her brand to stand alone, unhindered by any missteps I might make.

So, as of this morning, though the signage will need some time to be changed? Fayth will reopen as The Mirror. We'll continue to sell ladies' clothes, but we will also focus on the men's line that Lulu and I had been developing. I'm excited, frightened and will soon be hiring for floor and behind the scenes positions.

Is anyone a psychiatrist?

Or is anyone really good at getting Xanax on short notice?

Well, there's that tattoo again. Came back fresh and that's a laugh n'a half, ain't it.
Assuming that means most everyone else is back to themselves, huh? L? M? Any letters in between?

Oh wait, there are no letters between those.

Huh.

Few things I hate more than making nice with Robert, but father insists, and trying to deny Tywin Lannister's will is like trying to deny the rising of the sun

What sort of things do people do to occupy themselves out here? There are really only so many wine tastings one can attend. I find myself at a loss for things to do while I wait for my husband to pull the stick out of his ass.

Jaime, come entertain me.

I've lost count of how many times people have asked me if I carry swimwear in the past few weeks.

Look around the store. This isn't Macy's. I specialize in semi-formal and formalwear.

Try the mall.

Hello, friends, and soon to be friends! My name is Fandral Agnar, and it's a pleasure to meet all of you. I've just returned from the picturesque English countryside where I've been filming my latest movie. I can't give away too many details, you know how this business is, but I can guarantee you it will be a swashbuckling good time.

Apparently I'm now the Posh Dog Rescue. Whenever people don't want to take care of their pets dump them here at my office. I think it's mostly because ... well, they know I'll probably keep them and take care of them.

So. What do I name this little guy?

Today feels dreadfully wrong and a bit awful.

Like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed -- or somehow forgot a piece of myself when I left the house to go to work. I cannot say I appreciate such a strange feeling whilst I'm trying to get things done.

Jennifer Love Hewitt is ruining my life, dear god.

I've found a new love. I need to hit the library and research. Apparently, there's a lot I don't know (and should know) about gastronomy.

I'm going to have a beach party on Friday evening before I leave town. Anybody want to join me? Say, around sunset?

Don't worry, I don't think I'm leaving for good. Just a little working vacation to kick off the summer.

I see that there are a few people on here heading to Paris soon, and there are some things that I would love to see for myself, but since I can't right now? I have a few photo requests, if somebody is willing to take the time to scout some of this out. It's really, really important if you don't mind doing it. I have a bit of a...thing I want to do with some of this, so...

A list of locations, if you have time.

1. The Law School, particularly the stairs

2. The Necker hospital

3. Number 16, rue de la Verrerie

4. Place Edmond Rostand across from the Mcdonalds. The burger place that borders the Luxembourg.

5. The intersection of the rue Rambuteau and the rue Mondétour (Halles stop on the Metro) , Specifically the Body One Lingerie, I believe. The internet tells me it's a vintage clothing shop now. It's a small white building anyway, on the right.


Please and thank you? I would really, really love you forever with this one.

I took the dog out for a walk today, and just in case, I brought along my camera.

( Cut for image, viewable to all. )

I'm really glad I did. I know it'll ruin my reputation as a surly old cuss, but I'm rather taken with my dog.

Got me a bit of a pet today, too, since it's a bit of a trend, lately.

( Cut for image )

Just dunno what to name her, yet.

I seem to have adopted a dog. One of my more idiotic clients - who's been fired, never you worry - decided that it sheds too much, so she told me to have it "put down or something".

Some people's children.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

So. Who knows how to take care of a fresh tattoo on the inner lip?

Because apparently I fucking have one now.

Keep goddamn biting it on accident. Fuck me, man.

I've promised my daughter to take her dress shopping soon, in anticipation of either prom or a formal dinner, and I must admit my first findings are shocking.

Having tentatively embarked on the grand adventure that is prom dress shopping on the internet, I've found that most of the options for young ladies these days are either incredibly revealing or have enough rhinestones to satisfy any Vegas show girl. Or both.

Perhaps my tastes are simply too old fashioned, being a three piece suit and pocket square man myself, but I'm looking for something simple and elegant. Is this entirely out of the question for girl's fashion, these days?

Hey everyone! So, I'm back from visiting my family. The trip took longer than I expected, so, uh, sorry if I missed anything. Guess you'll have to fill me in.

Also, someone recommended to me that I start branching out and take on private clients. I thought I'd just hand out some business cards, but I was told that's too old fashioned and social media's the way to go (which I guess it right). So if someone out there is looking for a trainer or anything, maybe we can talk? Until I find someone to help me put up a website or something, I'll sort of have to rely on the Net.

I've really put off this for too long, haven't I? Everyone's always talking about this network, and I hate being out of the loop.

Jay Gatsby, and it's a genuine pleasure.

... okay, these dreams are un-fucking-acceptable. I am getting some Lunesta. Today.

I've been thinking of taking a cooking course, in my free time. Less to learn how to cook and more to meet other people who share my passion, so I'd be looking for something fairly advanced. I'm something of an epicure, I suppose, and I would love to be able to share my love of cooking with someone other than my daughter.

Perhaps if there are others in the area who enjoy food as much as I do, we could start a little group of some sort.

I find it amusing and intriguing that, even after being in the country for almost twenty years, I have not managed to lose my accent. Some studies show that if you learn a language later in life, you will never be able to shake your native accent while speaking it.

Oh, I can imitate an American accent perfectly well, from Bostonian to Texan, but when I relax and speak as I normally do, that little bit of Eastern European sneaks in.

The surrealistic nocturnal worlds presented in these dreams is apparently something that not even I am immune to, which is disappointing. I'd been hoping to get away unscathed.

What does, suck, though, is that apparently I dream in TV Tropes. There I am, the baddest demon in Hell, but one day, apparently I pull a Heel Face Turn and decide I'm sick of it. And I'm not even a demon who used to be human. I was made from a serial killer heart.

How the heck does that work?

Whenever life gets really really terrible, I slow down, take a breath, and I remind myself: I do not manage Amanda Bynes.

What happened, adorable little star of She's The Man?

So, from what I've gathered in my short time here, odd dreams are the norm, yes? Because I am fairly certain that I've had one, in which I dreamt I was a snake? And by "I dreamt I was a snake," I mean, of course, "I dreamt I was the snake that tempted Even in the Garden of Eden."

I haven't told Arthur yet. Likely he'll say something about it being blasphemous but I won't tell him he was there, either.

I mean. I dreamt some other things, too, but the important bit is I was most certainly a Former Angel Turned Demon/Talking Serpent. Which for all accounts and purposes is pretty bloody cool.

Spent such a large portion of the week finishing up personal taxes, shop taxes and office taxes that I completely missed out on the fact that it was my own birthday, yesterday.

Odd, how little it seems to matter after a certain number of years.

I just dreamt about the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. The weird part was that I was seventeen. I don't really get that, but it was a really good dream anyway. Why does the alarm always have to interrupt the really good dreams?

Someone actually got paid to run a study that proved that women prefer men with large penises. (Of course, this was a study of hetero and bisexual women. I can only imagine lesbians would've skewed the study somewhat.)

Speaking as a man who enjoys men, yes. Bigger is better. Everyone knows that. Christ.

And people say my job is pointless.

Why is it that there is nowhere one can smoke in this place? Ça m'embête beaucoup! C'est pas cultivé. À la France, on peut fumer encore.

( ooc: translation )

Got a letter from Mother, including a clipping about a study which shows how destructive same-sex marriage would be to British society. I'm fairly sure it's because Parliament approved a second reading of a bill which would allow it, at least in England.

It seems impossible to honor one's father and mother when they seem so ... ignorant.

Good day, good people of the valar net! I'm Beleg, and I'm new to the network and to the area. I don't expect that people will know or remember me hi Turin, but I also star in a on-again, off-again web series: Beleg Cuthalion - Big Bow Hunter. It's chronicling my outdoor adventures tracking and hunting with various really big bows and how I have fun cheating death. I firmly believe that hunting's only fun and truly sporting when it's equally dangerous and your prey can run you down and eat your face off!

Alas! It would be on more of a regular schedule, if I could only stop bleeding.

If there's any sort of good hunting grounds or other archery enthusiasts out there, let's meet up and try to get our faces eaten off, together!

Hello, valarnet. Longtime lurker, new poster. Some of you may know me already, but those who don't, my name's Lo. Yes, it's a nickname, no, I'm not telling you my real name. If you need it, you'll know it, now stop being so snoopy.

I know some of you because I represent you, but to those I don't, I apologize in advance for offending you. It'll happen. Give it time, dears.