Network

I seriously have the best boyfriend ever.

Nothing quite like a man who can talk you down from a panic attack.

So, I can reveal my news that I mentioned the other day.

Beginning Saturday night, I'll be performing at [insert name of coffee shop] for the next four Saturdays thanks to Draco Malfoy. Nothing too big, but it's a chance to get in front of an audience again, even if it's a small one.

There are a few faces I expect to see there, at least for the first one. Darcy, Alyssa, Annie, Draco and Yaten. I only ask that no one throw scones. Those fuckers are hard.

I had the most wonderful dream, last night.

I dreamed that I built the Paris Opera House.

Well, not only me. Charles Garnier (no relation) helped, of course. He and I struck up a sort of odd friendship, in this dream world of mine. We worked together for fifteen years to build the opera house of our collective dreams.

And the best part -- oh, my friends, the best part was that I had my very own palace.

Deep underneath the Paris Opera House, I had a vast and complicated house, with its own lake. One had to get there by boat. By boat! How romantic.

And Aisha was there with me, as always. My little princess, of course she would wiggle her way into my dreams.

One of the many wonderful things about having a theatre major for a boyfriend is that he's very good at costumes and makeup and things!

We decided to turn me into a faerie king. I'm quite pleased with my hair!

I got my hair cut for my birthday! It's this Wednesday but I wanted it done TODAY!

[a picture like her icon of her hair cut cute and short to her jawline and trim]

I've lost my phone!

LITTLE YELLOW BOXES I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE NOW!

You're in all caps, that's what you are.

Anyway. I'm sexy again. This is good!

How you doing? Yes you, the ones reading this. No not you, I mean the puppet masters.

You type really loud.

Stop it.

God, I haven't felt this good since that one log with the tacos..

The good news is, if my temperature stays at 102 now that they've got it down and if the test shows tht it's really trichinosis, they're letting me out of Irvine General with meds tomorrow. The bad news is that I shall never, never, return to another doctor, nurse, pharmacist, chiropractor, therapist, medical assistant, x-ray technician, or anyone associated with the practice of medicine for as long as I continue to draw breath. ( ((medical imagery triggers. I know I triggered MYSELF)) )

I think I screamed. I KNOW I screamed, and I don't even know WHAT the hell all I was screaming and apparently no one in the room knew either because they all sounded insanely confused, while they tried to finish up and stitch it and get me back to my lovely little observation curtained area where I proceeded to call my mom at work and sob at her for fifteen solid minutes, in a bid that's just set MY maturity back a good fifteen years or so.

Later, I am going to be even more humiliated than I am right now, but I have never, ever felt anything quite like that. And I never want to again. So doctors, sorry, I am DONE with you. It isn't you. It's me and all of my secret phobias coming out to play and it will make all our lives a living hell if I don't walk away.

Consider this our breakup letter.

And this is going out to that amazing lady who tolerates me and my weirdness and helped me get back to my regular height when I accidentally shrunk myself the last time the OC went crazy. This one makes me think of you:

With your mercury mouth in the missionary times
And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes
Oh, who among them do they think could bury you?
With your pockets well protected at last
And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass
And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass
Who among them do they think could carry you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

( Clint's hearing what it is, this sounds, well, kinda Dylanesque actually )

((Bonus OOC fun: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvK2FeaJQFA ))

( Cut for Taylor Swift lyrics! )

Someone at the market today thought Charlie was a little girl and broke out in some about how cute she is. I didn't have the heart to correct her. The lyrics made me want to break out my popcorn or, you know, a handkerchief, but I refrained. The only line I remember is: Little ginger girls get all of the love, they were sent to us from above. Alright, so the lyrics were a little lacking in creativity, but I agree! Being a ginger girl is better than being a ginger boy. Poor Charlie.

My agent tried to sign me up for a commercial that was a musical, but I haven't really been in a singing mood lately. Besides, I have a horrible voice. My Dad says all of my talent was given to swimming. You know what? I'm okay with that.

Tony, you might want to get down here. Peter did it.

If anyone was looking for me today, I apologize. I seem to have come down with something. Even though I work with the dead, I don't wish to infect the living.

I've been catching up on shows with Toby though. He really enjoys the Vampire Diaries for some reason, he keeps pawing the screen. Mindy (my other newer cat) is more fond of Justified.

The last post I made was a complete accident! I thought about deleting it, but I think the damage has been done. I just know the media is going to be all over this and think I'm dating some boy who treats me really badly. Or worse! They're going to look into my dating history and find Theon Greyjoy. The last thing I need is Theon coming around asking questions or blaming me for something I did by accident!

( Private Message to John Jones )

I see skies of blue, and clouds of white. The bright, blessed day. The dark, sacred night. And I think to myself, "what a wonderful world."

I feel like baking tonight. Even though it's way, way past my bedtime.

( Not filtered, just cut. )

( Private Message to Jim Kirk )

I am absolutely, positively, not leaving my office again until this singing thing blows over. I was passing by someone in the hallway, carrying a stool sample, and I swear to God this is what I heard:

"Everything comes down to poo! From the top of your head, to the sole of your shoe. We can figure out what's wrong with you by lookin' at your poo!"

...I need to move away from Orange County.

( Private Message to Lulu )

Clock strikes upon the hour
And the sun begins to fade
Still enough time to figure out
How to chase my blues away
I've done alright up to now
It's the light of day that shows me how
And when the night falls, loneliness calls

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me

( Private message to Kurt Wagner )

( Private Message to Deryn )

This singing is getting old. Before this morning, I don't think that even my wife had heard my singing voice. Now, it seems, I can't stop.

( Cut, not filtered )

GUESS WHAT I DID TODAY??

Well I'm not braggin babe so don't put me down
But I've got the fastest set of wheels in town
When something comes up to me he don't even try
Cause if I had a set of wings man I know she could fly
She's my little deuce coupe
You don't know what I got
(My little deuce coupe)
(You don't know what I got)

I don't want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don't want to worry whether
We're gonna stay together
'Till we die

( Not Filtered, Cut for length )

Woke up on the right side of the bed
What's up with this Prince song inside my head?
Hands up if you're down to get down tonight
Cuz it's always a good time.

Slept in all my clothes like I didn't care
Hopped into a cab, take me anywhere
I'm in if you're down to get down tonight
Cuz it's always a good time

Good morning and good night
I wake up at twilight
It's gonna be alright
We don't even have to try
It's always a good time

I've been wondering, does anyone else know anything about this Batman? I've been looking through the papers everyday since that woman mentioned seeing him, but I haven't found anything.