And the Diamond-hard Hardness of His Heart Was Transfigured into Light

... That's 2 lines in a row now from the same author! Barbara Hambly rocks.


To know more is to love more. At least that is how it is with me. The more I know about something, or someone, the more I love them. Or the more I love, the more I love. >The harder the fall, the harder the fall? Hahahaha<. I'm saying this now because I'm beginning to realize I'm not so unteachable when it comes to music. And that the more I know, the more fun it is to know more. Right now I know that Phil Collins wasn't the first to do "You can't hurry love." Yes. Let's celebrate my small achievements. And I like Bamboo just because. I like the way they sound.

Shattering into a Thousand Green Jangling Pieces

My body is going into self-destruct. Or shut-down safety mode. I am constantly tired and sleepy, and my eyes if they don't get better may need an operation. Hopefully the antibiotic will work.


I had my sister drop the medicine into my eye. I was supposed to look up as she squeezes a drop in, look down, and without squeezing my eyes shut, swish my eyeballs around to spread the medicine. I was moving my eyeballs in a clockwise direction, while Rudd was making counterclockwise movements with her finger.

Dammit!

"Hey, you're making me dizzy!"


And she starts snorting in hilarity.


Harhar.


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He caught my eye the first time I saw him. Now he has grown in power and is coming into his father's heritage: compassion for those without the power to defend themselves. I knew there was more to him than just a pretty face.


So now it's confirmed. I LOVE SESSHOMARU-SAMA!


Scanlation! Scanlation! Scanlation!

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Interior design is not as fun as it seems. We had the pet project office walls repainted and it took us about an hour (or more) to reach a consensus on wall color choice. Gahhh. The floor tiles would be even harder. But it's gratifying to see the paint job done well and on time. Now the walls don't have mysterious, ugly, sooty handprints.

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I have this classmate in statistics class who is such a sweetheart. I bet he has dozens of older sisters. It's my pet theory. Maybe I should ask him next week.


Oh, why do I think he's a sweetheart? Nothing much really. It's just that he's the kind of guy who would pick up your umbrella when it gets knocked off your chair (even if he had nothing to do with it getting knocked off), simply because. Doesn't seem much I guess. He really had to reach over to do it, you know. The umbrella didn't fall on the side close to him. I dunno. Maybe I'm just touched by the casual kindness. He actually does his part in group works too! (then again, this should be expected since we're graduate students). If I were a guy, he's the kind of guy I would want to be.


Sounds weird I know. But I wouldn't be me if I didn't sound weird.

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Arrgghh. I have to dance the cha-cha on Sept 1. Not that I hate dancing, and didn't I say I >secretly< style="font-style: italic;">

I Speak but Nobody Hears

...or at least you don't.


I don't know where to start. Even when I'm not saying it out loud, just thinking out my feelings is a stressful thing.


What I'm wondering is, is it better for the both of us if I just stay away completely? You don't really need me anyway. I doubt it would make a difference to you. Or that you'd even notice. Whether or not I'm here.


I'm being unfair of course. I know that too. It's just that this whole thing is making me stupid, and I've been desperately trying not to let the whole situation make me behave like a stupid, petty, unfair girl. I'm seeing signs of it already.


... I'll see you around.