Pic of the day: Another kodak moment on MS Comic Chat. This is one of the regulars, not me. I'll never tell who. :)
Amanda is cool
Apologies for yesterday's entry, which was short and fluffy. Then again, yesterday was short and fluffy. Apart from sleeping, and ruling from the porcelaine throne, I managed to send 10,000 Pious colonists to Alpha Centhauri, and spend some time in Daggerfall developing a new non magic wielding character under my Alternate Play Style concept. Then sleeping some more, waking up in time for the update. Luckily I had secured a good picture, at least.
The late evening was spent on IRC. Frippy was there (it's hard to avoid noticing, since everyone goes oooh Frippy aaah Frippy /me smoooches Frippy) and Chris of Pigeonhole (Meat Locker) was there. Josh of Silent Nights passed through - the nights have been unusually silent in Britain last month - and there was even an appearance by the illustrious Iko, even though we had not savrifived any ciegins (sic). And still I know I have forgotten a journaller or two; but that is to be expected, since my mind was occupied with Amanda most of the time.
If this seems like a non sequitur, it is. It's Amanda of
"A is for ..."
Since Amanda lives in California with the rich people, she might theoretically hop aboard a plane one day and come visit me. In which case I would hide under the bed, because I am scared of women. My thanks to Corvin for his deep and insightful description of Social Female Anxiety Disorder, which in his case amounts to not approaching female vampires in tight-fitting clothes. I guess that's a start. Me, I rarely approach a woman at all, unless there's a counter or something between us. True, most of my best friends are women. But generally they have approached me, not the other way around. (On the other hand, once approached I am pathetically grateful and behave generally like a newly adopted puppy, except I'm not trying to lick their face. Oh, and I do not make wet spots on the carpet. Not any more.)
It all is the more surprising since I generally have self confidence enough for a small town. I hold an opionon on almost anything, and I can hold a speech at a moment's notice. But I can't hold a woman. I avoid parties, and when I'm there, I shiver with fear and pray silently while fading into the shadows in the corner. You never know when those creatures come pouncing on you! And then they look strangely at you, as if they expect you to do something. Gaah! We never had this stuff in school. Instead we learned the names of dead kings. I know a lot of those. I can hold an inspirational speech about dead kings any day.
But maybe Amanda doesn't come over. That isn't so bad, because that means I can eat all the chocolate myself! Yay chocolate! You see those exclamation points? For some reason, it seems that whenever a sentence contains the word chocolate, it ends with an exclamation point! Just try it and see. Write a few lines about chocolate! See? (I guess it shows that I hadn't been in town for two days. Remind me to stock up on chocolate if I'm still here before New Year!)
OK, I hope I got my point through here. I am rambling, as is good and proper for a diary called the Chaos Node. The above is a highly personal transcript from last nights' IRC. :) I just wanted to make sure the world knows that Amanda is a certified, card-carrying Cool Dudette. Hear that, world? Amanda is COOL! Like her or face my wrath. (Or at least my peevishness and loud whining.) OK. That was that.
I've been listening to Leonard Cohen again, which is a risky thing to do at the best of times. Because just as you enjoy the melodies and the strange voice, the words make you start thinking. This is known to cause all manner of strange behavior. If you think that is bad, you may want to keep medication and holy books close at hand. (Of course, in some people - like me - holy books also cause thinking and strange behavior. Needless to say, I am very careful about drugs.)
In this case, I listened to the good old song "Joan of Arc", which is as
strange as they come. It is about the relationship between Joan of Arc
and The Fire. And as so often before, I find that Cohen speaks not
to me but for me. But there is one thing that's really scary about
my reaction to this song. It is that when I sort of live through
this song, I do not imagine myself playing the role of Joan of Arc.
I imagine myself as the Fire.
It is storm outside and rain keeps lashing down.
Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.