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oh well.
I feel like having one of my mind-rambles, possibly in preparation for the Mini-Writing-Reunion tomorrow, possibly partly because of the fantastic Llama, Doom Llama and Greater Doom Llama stats recently made up by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tattered_pinion, which is fantastic by the way, or possibly because my brain is overloading with the artistic brilliance of UrsulaV. Maybe all of these things.
And then of course the hour is not to be overlooked, nor my tiredness nor thirst, nor the odd cold feeling in my toes or finally, the numbness of my fingers, and the odd cramp in my left index finger that's presently making typing a bit more of a chore than it normally is for me, what with my mad typing skillZ and all.
You know, it wouldn't be so bad to be an artist. Or a llama farmer.
This time of night is a good time. It's lonely, in a happy kind of way. In a way that says "I am alone and I am content, all things taken into consideration", if you know what I mean. It is a time that I should really be using to draw or sleep, rather than fawn over the brilliant work of certain artists and checking emails, or failing to be able to come up with anything to write in an email tovolandum. It's not because I don't want to email him, it's because I can't think of anything worthwhile to say. "It is cold here" is both irrelevant and pointless.
I want to know what this "Painter" program is. Good people use it, and I want to know where I can get it from, although you probably need one of those tablet things to make full use of the thing.
I think I feel a time of palaentology obsession coming on again. Although I could be wrong.
Oh! I am angry at Matt. Not that any of you know who Matt is, not that I know what his last name is, not that it effects me in the grand scheme of things because there'll be another White Watch reunion sometime next week, but I still don't appreciate standing on a cold, windy, dark, cold, midland trainstation platform for half an hour when he's planning not to turn up at all. Ok, so he had no way of contacting me, so I guess I shouldn't be annoyed, but I was looking forward to seeing people. However, not looking forward to it that much because I wasn't expecting to see Gavin there. I do miss Gavin. And I will see him tomorrow [Friday], which makes me happy. But despite my happiness, it will not make the now any less without him. Hm, that doesn't sound how I meant it. I miss him, let's just leave it at that, and when I read back through my livejournal [as I often do] we'll just see if I remember what I meant, although I think I will.
Sorry if I'm taking up valuable friends page space, but I figure that since it's nearly One thirty AM now, any irritation this might cause will be covered away under layer upon layer of friendspage updates by the time you might notice, I'm guessing around 8pm, because that always seems to be the time when the Internet is most active, which of course it isn't.
Hungry Spirits Don't Stay Hungry For Long, what an interesting concept. I took Bonnie for a walk yesterday morning, but not before she ran into the house, through the kitchen, down the hall and straight into my room, to lie herself down on the sheepskin rug on the floor beside my bed and look up at me cutely. She's just lucky that that sheepskin has not been fluffy and wonderous for nigh on 17 years now.
I guess I should go, as it's well past my sanity-benchmark when I'm getting up at 9 tomorrow.
9! The things I do for friends. *shakes head morosely*
I feel like having one of my mind-rambles, possibly in preparation for the Mini-Writing-Reunion tomorrow, possibly partly because of the fantastic Llama, Doom Llama and Greater Doom Llama stats recently made up by
tattered_pinion, which is fantastic by the way, or possibly because my brain is overloading with the artistic brilliance of UrsulaV. Maybe all of these things. And then of course the hour is not to be overlooked, nor my tiredness nor thirst, nor the odd cold feeling in my toes or finally, the numbness of my fingers, and the odd cramp in my left index finger that's presently making typing a bit more of a chore than it normally is for me, what with my mad typing skillZ and all.
You know, it wouldn't be so bad to be an artist. Or a llama farmer.
This time of night is a good time. It's lonely, in a happy kind of way. In a way that says "I am alone and I am content, all things taken into consideration", if you know what I mean. It is a time that I should really be using to draw or sleep, rather than fawn over the brilliant work of certain artists and checking emails, or failing to be able to come up with anything to write in an email to
volandum. It's not because I don't want to email him, it's because I can't think of anything worthwhile to say. "It is cold here" is both irrelevant and pointless. I want to know what this "Painter" program is. Good people use it, and I want to know where I can get it from, although you probably need one of those tablet things to make full use of the thing.
I think I feel a time of palaentology obsession coming on again. Although I could be wrong.
Oh! I am angry at Matt. Not that any of you know who Matt is, not that I know what his last name is, not that it effects me in the grand scheme of things because there'll be another White Watch reunion sometime next week, but I still don't appreciate standing on a cold, windy, dark, cold, midland trainstation platform for half an hour when he's planning not to turn up at all. Ok, so he had no way of contacting me, so I guess I shouldn't be annoyed, but I was looking forward to seeing people. However, not looking forward to it that much because I wasn't expecting to see Gavin there. I do miss Gavin. And I will see him tomorrow [Friday], which makes me happy. But despite my happiness, it will not make the now any less without him. Hm, that doesn't sound how I meant it. I miss him, let's just leave it at that, and when I read back through my livejournal [as I often do] we'll just see if I remember what I meant, although I think I will.
Sorry if I'm taking up valuable friends page space, but I figure that since it's nearly One thirty AM now, any irritation this might cause will be covered away under layer upon layer of friendspage updates by the time you might notice, I'm guessing around 8pm, because that always seems to be the time when the Internet is most active, which of course it isn't.
Hungry Spirits Don't Stay Hungry For Long, what an interesting concept. I took Bonnie for a walk yesterday morning, but not before she ran into the house, through the kitchen, down the hall and straight into my room, to lie herself down on the sheepskin rug on the floor beside my bed and look up at me cutely. She's just lucky that that sheepskin has not been fluffy and wonderous for nigh on 17 years now.
I guess I should go, as it's well past my sanity-benchmark when I'm getting up at 9 tomorrow.
9! The things I do for friends. *shakes head morosely*
