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Some stats to cheer myself up:

Days until the end of the semester: 33
Percentage of semester completed: 54.7%

Days until WonderCon: 28
Percentage of costumes completed: 33.3%

Days until spring break: 5
Percentage of spring break that will be spent spring break-ing: 14.2%


...okay, maybe the last one is more depressing than cheering.

Completely unsure of how to process last night's dream in which my husband (here, not in the dreams) attempted to purchase me a companion of the sexual persuasion.

She screamed and slapped me when I told her it wasn't her fault her father left (he just didn't like his job at the post office). Apparently, being sympathetic isn't something you are meant to do at brothels?

I'm relieved nothing happened, although I'm sure she was a very nice woman.

Well, I've been bothered by a few people to come on here. Apparently it's the best way to communicate with other citizens of Orange County. As though I can't just go down to a bar and meet people there. Doesn't anyone talk face to face anymore? Too much technology, I say.

I am such a sucker for those ghost hunting shows. They're so lame, especially when they think they're making out what those EVPs are saying. "I'm hearing 'get out'." WHAT IF THE GHOST SAID "BACON"? WHAT IF THEY MISS BACON? I know I would if I was a ghost.

You know the best looks I get are the people who come into the shop thinking they're gonna find a guy under the car. Sorry guys, I'm a chick and I can handle cars stop being so stereotype happy. Also I will kick the next customer in the shins who goes "So you're favorite car to work on is a Volkswagen, Mercedes?" with a grin thinking they're funny. You aren't.

Given things lately, I've made some decisions for myself. Along with that, I spent the past few days at the archery range. I've really missed this.

How's everyone fairing after all the craziness of last weekend?

There's a show on Animal Planet about tree houses. It makes me very happy. Although I'm not terribly certain why it's on Animal Planet as opposed to the Discovery Channel. They aren't tree houses for animals, at least not yet. I haven't gotten very far.

Okay guys I don't usually talk about my dreams because... duh? Who wants to talk about that crappy Island or being kidnapped or whatever. Not me! Not usually.

But uhm...

Has anyone ever had that feeling like some part of their soul kinda went missing? After a dream, I mean.

I think I died a little bit last night, and not because of great sex. Which we all know is the only acceptable way to die a little bit.

There's something to be said for tenacity.

My audition for the LA Philharmonic (which I hadn't said anything about here for fear of somehow jinxing it,) was scheduled for this past friday. And then, of course, there was a sudden volcano and I was given the option to either brave the weather and play anyway or to reschedule. Naturally, I went anyway. That probably would've been more impressive if I weren't what I am and had to actually drive from home up into the city. Regardless, I went and played the concerto I wrote for Lucifer for Valentines on the very lovely reproduction Stradivarius he bought for me. Castiel went for moral support and partly because he doesn't much like passing up the opportunity to hear me play. It was...strange to say the least, to be standing on that stage in front of three men who truly believe that they've seen and heard so much of the world. Enough to judge a person's skill, sure, but there's a lot of other factors that go into playing than that.

It felt...

I haven't felt human like that in a long while, vulnerable and nervous. This was a moment I'd been training my whole life for, and while I was on that stage playing my heart out, nothing that's happened in the past few months mattered much at all. The dreams and the pain I suffered through meant nothing. That I could spread my wings behind me and had the power to actually paint that concert hall in whatever shifting colors I wanted mattered not in the slightest. What mattered was that a brother I never thought I'd have was sitting outside the doors as a beacon of calm support basking in the sounds of a song written for a lover I never expected to meet. I gave them the very best I could while staying on book, and in the end that was the best I could do.

This afternoon, I received a phone call congratulating me on a well done audition and offering me not only a chair, but the opportunity for the occasional solo position. It's not first chair or even second, but it's still a chair. It's still my dream, and no matter how angelic I might be now, whatever too human parts remain in me can't stop alternately smiling and sitting in stunned disbelief.

As school is still technically out for volcanic clean up, I plan to spend the rest of the day with the men I love who happen to live with me though I suppose if the rest of the family decided to show up that would only make it better.

Less party. More just quiet celebration.

This is a thing? When did that become a thing. Why is that a thing? I can't be the only person who eats without taking a picture or posts about it on some social networking site.

I don't get it.

My coworkers have been handing out candy today in large amounts. I've collected something of a plethora of heart shaped sweets.

I am... uncertain of why they exist. They don't taste good, and the messages written on them aren't especially "cute". I can't be the only person who doesn't appreciate the misspelling of "you're".

This might not be the place to post about it, but I'm just so. Excited.

My new boots came today!

I'm especially excited because they'll match my jeans? I mean, I think my regular purple boots match them okay, but these are just out of this world.

See what I mean?


I can't wait to wear them! I'm just sad you can't see them on the radio.

What do you do when you're not really dating someone on Valentine's Day? Is there some sort of protocol for friends-with-benefits that I'm unaware of?

It's funny, I've been out of the marines for a few years now but it sometimes I feel like I just stepped off the plane. Like I missed more than I should have some times, though I can't wholly complain about it. Mostly pop culture. You're unlikely to find me whining that I missed planking or Bieber's balls dropping or whatever Snakes on a Plane was supposed to be about. But there are other things, great things I'm told that I've missed out on. Can't say I thought about it at all when I was in the service, I was mostly concerned with not getting shot, which I clearly wasn't very good at. But I did miss some things, mostly bad fast food, real seasons, latin mass in an actual church. If I thought about it I could probably come up with a list but there would be no point. I can actually go out and have or experience everything I've not been able to do in the last... ten years. Only ten years or so, it sure felt like a lifetime while I was living it. Here's hoping the next ten are more peaceful, and that I don't miss anything I don't have to.

One of the things I've already been told not to miss is this network, so here I am, not missing it. I'm Michael, nice to meet you all.

George Sands, where the fuck are you? If there's ever a time for you to show your ugly mug, it's now.

Annie is a ghost and only I can see her right now. I need to find a way to fix this. She doesn't deserve this. There's got to be someone who can help us!

I'm very sorry if anything that was posted on my account in the last few days distressed anyone. Everything is perfectly fine, and I am most certainly not being held captive in my own home.

EDIT:
Truly, I am not a hostage, and am speaking only literally. Please do not concern yourselves or seek out ulterior subtext.

Mishamigos,

Still a hostage. But there are hamburgers and substances that I have been assured are not actually illegal. Day is not completely ruined.


[ x-posted on twitter ]

Hola Mishamigos!

I don't mean to alarm anyone, but I'm pretty sure I've been kidnapped. At first I thought it was a J2 joke, but...
:(



[ x-posted on twitter ]

I think I'm ready to up my cosplay game to the next level. I mean, you can only be a guy in a dress so many times before it becomes expected. Unfortunately, my manufacturing skill set is strictly 19th century. I can sew and knit. I'm okay with makeup if it's not more complicated than eyeliner and nail polish. And I'm a fairly decent wig stylist. And honestly, for most cosplay, that's all you need. But I've always wanted to put together something awesome. A mecha. Or actual armor. Or a superhero. Maybe a racebent-genderbent superhero.

So. Open call. There are millions of people in the world. One of you reading this has to know somebody who cosplays or who wants to cosplay or who you can persuade to make costumes. Serendipity. Fate. Destiny. I'm waiting for you.

It's snowing.

I mean that's cool and all. I don't hate it. It's ah, actually kinda nice. Snow. Wintery. Festive.

I dunno, I haven't gone out in it at all yet because screw you guys the actual christmas miracle here is that I woke up this morning and could see my husband's wings. There's like...some law on the books somewhere that says Winchesters don't see wings, but there they were.

Castiel is a stunning bastard.

FUN NON-CHRISTMASY BASED DISCUSSION.

As an avid reader of these boards, I can't help but noticing a lot of us are shameful flirts. To this end I ask: does anyone else ship people on this board or am I just crazy? Like, there's some of you who aren't dating but I just want to smush your faces together and be all NOW KISS.

( cut for image, viewable to all. )

Like that.

I swear to god, you guys are going to make me go all Fiddler on the Roof on your bottoms and start randomly setting you up. Which would turn out badly, since I'm sure some of you are like me and are taken but can't turn off the flirt.

I guess I'm just saying augh, Valar, why so cute?

This is the only Christmas song I actually really like.



That said, the Youth Orchestra Annual Holiday Concert is next Sunday, December 15 at 7pm.

Please come. It will be a lovely time, and there's going to be refreshments and such at intermission and afterwards. This year we've managed to put together a variety of songs that we shouldn't all be completely sick of...mostly. There's some standard stuff in there, of course, but we've managed to finally win the fight to please not do Jingle Bells this year.

Also, this will be my last concert with the Youth Orchestra, so I'd extra appreciate it if you'd all come out.

Yours truly ages out officially on Christmas (ah, the wonders of a holiday birthday,) and come spring I'll be sitting auditions for chairs at the grown up musical table as my brother-in-law so helpfully stated. (He then revised his statement to Big Boy Musical Chairs and about fell over laughing at his own joke. I'm pretty sure he's going to make an excellent father some day. The humor's already right there.)

And even then, if you'd like to see just me play (or a duet with a lovely pianist depending on the time of night and which lovely pianist it is,) you can find both my violin and me Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights at Lux. [website link]

But seriously, come to the concert. It'll be an emotional night for me with the group I've spent the past eight years or so with.

So, there's been a project in the backyard I've been working on for the past...while. It's been pretty difficult between setting up the new shop, Cas being gorgeous, and other crap that comes up, and not only that but hiding it from my husband. But it's finally done and I got to reveal it to him today.

( Cut for image. Totally work safe. )

So now he has his own quiet place to read and if he doesn't want anyone joining him, he can just fold up the ladder (you can't tell in the pic, but there's strategically placed hinges) and enjoy tea or whatever by himself. It's all cushions and beanbags and bookshelves inside.

I'd call it an early christmas present, but this is more just something I promised him even when he didn't think I was being serious.

But shit, not to be all sappy (more sappy) and crap, but I'm a better man because he's in my life and sometimes the people you love need to be shown that you love them, not just told. (over and over again.)

Shut up.

I don't really want to talk about yesterday.

Today, however, I'm considering starting a sitcom called Four Angels and a Hunter.

Some highlights include:

Dean and Gabriel fighting over the kitchen.
Dean attempting to be territorial of said kitchen and actually growling at Gabriel, before it was pointed out to him that it's not his kitchen and he doesn't get to claim it.
Our host hiding in his office and wearing his reading glasses while he pretended absolutely none of this was going on downstairs.
That one time someone threw blackberries at someone else's head because someone was monopolizing the stove and snarling obscenities.
The great stealing of Castiel's book.
Finding out why Gabriel got into candy-making somewhere during Castiel's impromptu lecture on how the insurance system actually works from an economic standpoint.
The reading glasses.
The way Castiel watches Dean
A narration in the style of Richard Attenborough of the mating habits of Hunters. (side note: I'm still not sure about Dean's alleged plumage, but whatever.)
Indignant angelic feather ruffling
The reading glasses.

And most importantly, spending time with family even though this is a new family for me and not everyone could stay for the whole time. It was far better today than any Thanksgiving I've had before. I'm beginning to get the idea that this is exactly what things should be like, and I'm glad to have all of them, and a good number of you as well.

I agreed to spend proper thanksgiving at my parents' since my brother and his husband aren't coming over to take over the kitchen until tomorrow.

I should probably note that this is the first time I'll have seen them since they kicked me out.

Nervous is a bit of an understatement. I think I might throw up. I'm not sure how to approach this.

I should have asked if I was allowed to bring a guest, too. I think I might just show up with one anyway.

This is awful.

I can't tell you how many suits I've put on and then taken off again. It's like I want to make the best impression I can, to prove that I'm far better off without their toxic influence, but none of them feel quite good enough or like they're giving the wrong idea and I just...I don't know.

It's getting harder and harder to focus, and I can feel my feathers ruffling and my wings are kind of twitchy. I might make a run to Paris before at least, or somewhere in Italy. If I show up with a decent bottle of wine, but that might not matter either. They might just wonder how exactly I got it in the first place when really I'm just trying to be polite or...ugh.

These last few weeks have been particularly trying, and I'm afraid I missed out on communication of all kinds while I attempted to learn how to deal with migraines.

I am feeling better now though, and feel I've gotten everything under proper control.

Good news: The Apocalypse was cancelled.

Bad news: My brothers are fighting again.

Related: If anyone on here happens to be named Adam Milligan, I'm so, so sorry.

So far, being eighteen is amazing.

I GOT A NEW SISTER AND SHE'S THE BESTEST BEST THING EVER!

Oh, and also I'm learning how to make candy. I think I'm gonna make a dress out of candy and it'll be delicious and pretty!

What are you doing today valarnet? Was it fun? We should do something fun! Liiiiiiike a bouncy castle orrrrrrrrrr is laser tag fun? It looks colorful. Laser tag should be fun. Let's do that!

I just flew in from Amsterdam, and boy are my arms tired.

...tough crowd.

That moment when you realize that despite all efforts to the contrary, you are your father.

PUMPKIN SPICE! There's an inexplicable joy having the first pumpkin spice latte of the season.

Ah feel like going out tanight.

As someone once allegedly said:

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

I feel like a goddamn failure.

Maybe I shouldn't because it was what needed to be done, but I should've fucking been able to stop it somehow.

If you need me, check the bar. If it's business hours, your best bet is Lux and no one gets to give me shit for actually conforming to that dress code.

( Cut for image, open to all. )

Pete and I made a baby. Everybody, meet Zelda Katherine.

I think I might be getting the hang of this internet thing! I've ordered books off Amazon now, though I haven't been able to purchase one of those electronic readers. I enjoy the smell and feel of books too much.

I've also looked at that netflicks business! Quite interesting, and so many films I haven't seen! I quite like the period dramas.

What's next? Tweeter?

It's harder than I thought to be back.

They're baiting me. Just saying things to get a reaction and I have to force myself to be the better man. To relearn how to ignore them when it seems as though I can do nothing but hear. I'm learning not to listen half so well, but it's still hard.

It feels impossible.

The worst is the ones who saw more than they should have. Only two so far, but they keep looking at me like I should be more than what I am, like they're expecting some great proclamation from on High.

I hate this.

Can I be done with school now?

It was better when I was just that artistic, probably homosexual kid from whom everyone copied their math homework.

So, school starts on Tuesday. I can't help but be excited about it, and, to be honest, a little nervous for reasons that I won't go into right now.

I've started a new job playing the occasional violin accompaniment at an establishment that might well pay for my college education (should that ever be a path I decide to pursue,) but at least is doing something that I genuinely love. It's a wonderful opportunity and I'm very grateful to have it.

I suppose I ought to note that I've started dreaming. Is there some kind of party to be had for it? A celebration of the utter end of normalcy, perhaps?

Regardless, I've dreamt up to the Resurrection and the subsequent word from On High that Earth is a no-fly zone and that transgressors will be unmade or cast out.

I am Good, and so I will not Question or Rebel, but I am pretty sure that there are a handful of others in that life who are, I suppose the best word for it is weary, of Imagination being limited to technically one plane of existence even if there are near infinite other ones that make up the whole. I'm certain that Joshua is about ready to politely kick me out of the Garden.

But such is life, sometimes. I have been reading a lot, trying to teach myself more Spanish and some Mandarin that perhaps I might Listen better, though I've been told that knowledge of languages will come with time. It would seem that I am to gain knowledge of absolutely everything else before I can understand more than language(s-ish) I know in my waking hours.

And by knowledge of everything else, I mean I have to learn how to tune out more than just prayers now, and I truly didn't need to know what she thinks about me.

Having both school and work to focus on will be helpful. I am looking forward to it. Perhaps the return to my peer group and a more structured environment will help me keep the focus I need to make it through all this unscathed (or as much as possible.)

My dream self is even worse at conversation than my real self. Is that irony?

Apparently, sometimes I hiss now.

Also, according to my watch, the only time in Hell is "too late." That is all.

OH MY GOD

MY CAR

MY CAR FROM THE DREAMS

I woke up this morning and Esther, she's here!

Alright, two things:

1. I'd like to talk to whoever the hell is in charge of naming monsters. This crap is getting out of hand. I mean how the hell is anyone supposed to take something called a friggen Rugaru seriously? Sounds straight out of Scooby Doo. Related to that (so thing 1a, I guess?) I feel like I should start taking some kind of tally about the number of times something tries to eat me or Sammy in these dreams.

2. Welcome home, baby.

You know, I didn't expect the UCI library to be quite so haunted. I suppose this area really was built on devious doings, like they say.

I am totally replacing the couch with one of these.

You never know when you'll need something like that.

Do you ever have someone come into your work and then really hope they come in again even though you know you work in a mall food court and that person just doesn't seem the type to frequent the mall at all ever?

That was distressingly specific, wasn't it?

Youth Orchestra/Symphony/Whatever We Are Right Now rehearsal tonight should be a decent enough distraction. I do so enjoy Vivaldi.

If anyone is curious this is what we're working on tonight and have been for the last both too long and not long enough.

A public service announcement from The Winchester Homestead:

I'm not deleting yesterday's entry, but I really need you all to know that Cas sat there watching me type the whole thing. Read it over my damn shoulder.

This man is a menace.

If you see me blogging on that many (prescribed to me) drugs again, ask him why he didn't stop it.

I'd be embarrassed, but screw it, it's there.

I'm also still supposed to stay away from heavy machinery until next week once they can gradually dial down the dosage and maybe I won't have to be on this crap constantly. Like at night would be okay. I could handle at night.

Like I had a dream about going back in time and it was really, really messed up and I woke up and...and I wasn't having a super huge freak out about it. Like the dream happened and it was there and I still remembered it, but the panicked impulse to go drown everything in liquors was I guess blocked by the other crap in my system? I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, but I'll take it for now.

Regardless, Cas don't friggen let me do that crap again. I want it in writing and in public so I can hold you to it.

Hey Valarnet, didja miss me?

You didn't even notice I was gone, did you? Thanks. No, really that means a lot.

I guess I got a few things to say here about what I've been up to in my absence.

Some of it I've probably already said, but I'm on quite a bit of valium right now so everything is comfy cozy and you'll have to bear with me.

• Got my ass married.
  
• Surprise.
  
• Quit drinking (I know I talked about that. I remember talking about that. Right? Right.)
  
• Had a seizure and ended up in the hospital under observation for a week while I detoxed.
  
• A certain angel of mine needs a medal of friggen' honor for not only going out and buying every single pokémon game while, in my even more drugged up stupor, I said I wanted to play pokémon (actually what I think I said was choose you Casicuno and I'M NOT ANY GOOD AT MARIO KART RIGHT NOW MY THUMBS DON'T WORK YOSHI GET IN THE DAMN BALL) and then bought another system so that he could play with me and I'm pretty sure thought about getting a friggen gameboy color just in case.
  
• He also gets medals for, I think, only leaving my room twice the whole friggen week and managing to combine his endearing, earnest powers with my giant fits of not being a very good person to be around to get me a single room after day one. Like, I'm 90% sure he used my hospital pretend shower thing and every time I woke up he was there and only once did he smuggle in pie for me. It was pie and pokémon. That was all he left for. That's how you know you have a keeper.
  
• Possibly no longer have a job because of being kind of unfit to work? I'm not sure. I really need to call and check on that.
  

And I'm back in my own bed now. Earlier was spent watching Shark Week on the good TV (instead of the hospital one, which true to his word, Cas reminded me of,) and now I'm just sort of staring at the laptop filling space when really I should be making out with my husband since I'm not all hooked up to IVs and the bed is a whole decent size and I can roll over.

Never take rolling over for granted.

Never.

Rolling over is amazing.

Cas is here.

Have I mentioned that I love Cas? Because I love Cas.

Oh, and that beautiful, wonderful bastard took my name. True friggen' love right there. Didn't even know he was going to do that until he'd already filled out the paperwork.

SAMMY! SAMMY! MEET MY HUSBAND! HE'S GORGEOUS AND MINE AND AMAZING AT THINGS LIKE BEING MINE. all mine.

Crap.

I need to stop typing. I'm going to go pass out on Cas now. Get him all in my arms and not let him go because I can. It's going to be the most painfully adorable thing you've never seen. Unless you're in our room. In which case, I'm gonna have to ask first why you're in our room and second, for you to leave. This is our room. There's another bed down the hall. Creeper.

Dean is in the hospital.
He does not want visitors.

Not even for pie.

( Cut for mentions of alcohol abuse and attempted recovery. Also swearing. )