Too Strange To Be Fiction

Hippo Birdies Two Ewes!

2009-03-31T16:59:28Z

Dearest quoth_the_ravyn and davyn,

On this most special of days, I just want to tell you something from the heart...

Love,

Me

P.S.

Well, it's not mine so that's ok...

2008-02-13T14:58:41Z

What I am about to describe is probably someone’s nightmare.

It probably says something about me that it only registered as a minor annoyance.

So, I was asleep. It was 4 am or something equally awful like that. Then I woke up to something crawling on me. Now, it was a weight and a type of crawling that I registered immediately, even in sleepy woken-up-suddenly-ogre-Rachael mode.

(Anyone who has seen me get up without the appropriate 20 minute mental surfacing routine knows what I’m talking about.)

There was a rat on me.

Well, one of my rats to be specific.

I remember when Pie was the quiet rat who didn’t LIKE people and never wanted to play. I remember when she DIDN’T bust out of her cage in the middle of the night to go play on the bed.

Logically, I know this means she must be a happier rat, but still!!!!

Avatar Drabble the First: Jerkbenders

2008-02-04T14:12:17Z

Title: Jerkbenders

Summary: There are somethings you just don't tell Sokka.

Rating: GEN (no pairings unless you count Aang/Zuko friendship... sort of.)

000

Sitting in the fire was a new trick for Zuko, but Aang was used to dealing with tetchy hypersensitive creatures. Air Bison were remarkably phlegmatic when they were adults, but they all went through a horrible phase of belligerence and unreasonableness during their mid-adolescence. Appa had only recently emerged from that phase a few weeks before Aang had to flee the temple, so it was fresh in his memory.

Unfortunately, Aang was pretty sure that he couldn’t buy Zuko’s forgiveness with a couple heads of cabbage.

Aang sat just outside the ring of fire surrounding his tentative new friend and tried to think of something to say. He took a breath and tried. “Look, Zuko…”

Zuko turned his head just enough so that he could pin a glare on Aang with his good eye before pointedly looking away. Aang shuddered. One wouldn’t think that a firebender could make the temperature drop so quickly…

He tried again. “I know I apologized earlier, but I really am sorry.”

Zuko ignored him.

Aang sighed. Firebenders were a lot like cats when you got right down to it. Zuko wasn’t done snubbing him yet. Unfortunately, Katara wouldn’t go near the fire until Zuko got out of it so that meant no supper until someone managed to calm the irritable prince down and since Aang had been the one to start it, the duty fell to him.

“I don’t even understand why you’re upset, it’s just a…”

“You told Sokka.” Zuko snapped, clearly not in the mood to say anything at all. The flames leaped a bit higher before Zuko glared them back down again.

At least Zuko was tightening his control over fire. That was a small comfort. Aang remembered the scorch marks that some valiant soul had tried to scrub off the walls of Zuko’s berth in his old war boat.

“Now, don’t be like that. I was just telling them about how you saved me from Admiral Zhao…”

Aang was interrupted by a bucket rolling into the space between him and Zuko. It rolled to a stop in a slow arc and stopped just shy of the fire’s edge. A tiny trickle of water oozed over the edge of its wooden lip.

“Hey Jerkbenders! Mind throwing that back over here!” Sokka stuck his head into the ring of firelight. His grin was just a few teeth short of unholy. “I was just practicing some Fire Nation-style waterbending. Katara says I’m a natural.”

Zuko ground his teeth and snatched up the bucket to fling it at Sokka’s head.

Sokka caught it and waved jauntily. “Thanks, Jerkbender!”

Zuko’s gaze snapped back to Aang, who tried to fold in on himself.

“You. Told. Sokka.” He growled.

Aang smiled weakly. “I thought it was funny…”

The firebender jumped to his feet and the flames roared around his knees. “How did you even know, you were in your cell!”

Aang decided that it was time to opt for the better part of valor and grabbed his glider.

Katara watched Aang soar into the night with Zuko hot on his heels. She considered stepping in and making good on her threat, but decided against it. She snuck a glance at Sokka who was petting the bucket like it was his new best friend.

She shook her head. Aang really had brought that one on himself.

-Fin

I can impagine a lot of you Doomians will be pleased to see that.

d_ragondaughter @ 2007-07-05T12:14:00

2007-07-05T16:18:24Z

Happy Birthday Me!

Yours truly is now 23!

I have had the most fabulous birthday celebration known to man. It has lasted a little over a WEEK. My friends need to have altars built in their honor. I will burn incense and make sacrifices.

To fully relate the absolute FUN I will break this down by day.

Wednesday, June 27

So I get home after a pretty long day at work and running errands.

Jen meets me at the door. With a big disturbing grin.

Me: I’m home. Here, I got you some twizzlers because I keep eating yours.
Jen: I got you something too! Close your eyes!
Me: *sighs and closes them*
Jen: Open them!
Ravyn: Hi!
Me: GAH!

I really should have known something was up.

Thursday, June 28

I went to work as normal, since I didn’t KNOW I was getting a guest. Color me grumpy: I get my Ravyn for an entire WEEK and I have to work for part of it. Sadly, I don’t make so much that I can afford to skip a paycheck.

Anyway, I worked until about 2 PM. Then I ran home and spent time with the Ravyn. We went to the Art Museum around 4 PM and saw the Egyptian exhibit. It was really quite interesting; they had tomb art and a lot of really great statues.

It was rather bizarre experience walking into the Museum. For a couple of minutes I couldn’t remember why the place looked familiar until I realized that I’d been there before at the Rodan Exhibit. I’d gone with Mom when I was 16. I remember not being terribly impressed by the statues, but the rest of the museum was fascinating. It was just an odd sense of Deju Vu when I realized that I HAD been there before.

Note: Also, before we left the house for the museum I discovered that I’d been ‘let go’ from my second job. They’d sent me a spineless little email saying that things weren’t working out and that I could pick up my check and drop off my keys on Friday.

I actually wasn’t too torn up about it. The ladies in question were SERIOUSLY flaky and they paid me in personal checks. I spent the weekend convinced that they’d bounce. However, the good news is that I suddenly got my weekend back! Good thing I didn’t do something stupid like quit my work with Boss Man over those two cows.

HAH.

Friday, June 29

Fortunately, with the loss of second job came the return of my weekends. It really was just as well. Boss Man is keeping me on and is perfectly OK with working around my college classes. I think we kind fit well together because he can’t keep someone full time and I need someone who will let me have less hours and a decent wage.

The return of Weekends meant that we were able to reschedule things (i.e. a trip that Jen refused to disclose anything about) so that we could go on Saturday. I went to work and stayed until about 2:30 PM again.

We stayed in ,had an anime marathon, and ordered a pizza. It was luv.

Saturday, June 30

We got up early and went to get pancakes at Elmo’s!

The plan was to eat and then browse Weaver’s Street market in Carrboro and then visit the Carrboro Farmer’s market until 4PM when we’d meet Jo for tea/coffee at the Weathervane in Chapel Hill.

Well... we made it to Elmo’s and Weaver’s Street.

Then we –or rather I—got waylaid by a box of free kittens. *shifty eyes* His name is Ptolmey. He’s a ptiny ptabby baby with big bat ears and an extremely long ptail. He’s got white on his legs, belly, throat, and mouth. He also has the most adorable lining around his eyes, like kohl... hence the name: Ptolmey.

Although, technically they were Greek...

Ptolmey was staring at me expectantly from the moment I looked into the box.

Me: ... you are very tiny and sleek. Are you sure you’re ten weeks old? I’d think you would be fluffier.
Ptolmey: Pick me up, Primate. It is time to go home.
Me: I already have cats. Two. They dislike small noisy things.
Ptolmey: Sucks to be them. I’m ready to leave. Monkey.
Me: Well, it can’t hurt to pick you up. You are very cute.
Polmey: First hit’s always free, Biped.
Me: You are extremely cuddly but... *checks under tail* if I were getting another cat, it would be a girl cat. I don’t want more boy cats. *puts Ptolmey back in and looks at other tabby kitty, without the cute white markings.*
Ptolmey: Why am I back in the box? Oh, you’re going to pick her up? Hah. Good luck with that. Yeah, yeah I see you with Queen Neurosis over there. That’s right, put her back. Now pick me back up.
Me: *picks Ptolmey back up* In you, I see my doom.
Ptolmey: I knew you were a smart chimp. *puuuuuuuurrrs*

Jen and Ravyn were of no help whatsoever.

Jen: We can take him right home if you want!
Me: You’re supposed to be talking me out of it.
Jen: ... I am? But he’s so cute! And it’s a kitten!
Me: .......

So, now have three cats plus Scary back at Mom’s. OHGOD. At least I’m getting a headstart on the ‘crazy cat spinster’ business.

After that we went home to bond with the new kitten. Jo got home a little after we did and I got to surprise her with Ptolmey.

Me: KITTEH IS YOUR DOOM!
Jo: Jesus! Is that a cat?
Me: Maybe.
Jo: ...

After securing Ptolmey in bathroom with food and litter and bed of towels, we went to the Weathervane and got tea. Then we browsed A Southern Season until Jen dragged out to another Mysterious Destination.

The Carnivore Sanctuary was doing a twilight tour.

There were Tigers.

Pictures to come!

It was sort of ironic to be attacked by ptiny Ptolmey in the morning and then spend the evening looking at his larger cousins.

Sunday, July 1

I honestly cannot remember what we did on Sunday. I think we flopped around a lot.

I believe Jo and Ravyn went shopping. She came home with AWESOME ceramic cups. Namely, the same ones I’d been eyeing since I first saw them. Things were expensive though so Ravyn’s welcome to them. She found them on sale. To the winner goes the spoils!

Monday, July 2

Worked til 2PM. Meanwhile, Jo took Ravyn horseback riding. Boy did that poor girl come home sore! In celebration, we watched more Anime.

In theory I had an appointment to see an advisor at 2:30PM, but it turned out that they’d neglected to mention that my appointment was actually on July 13. At least I got the weekday and the time right. Afterwards Jen and I went to drop off my keys and pick up my check at the Real Estate place.

They had the other secretary there. She didn’t know that I’d been fired. WOW they gimped out.

SO not torn up about losing that job. I’m seeing it rather as an unexpected extra $200 dollars.

We went out to dinner that night. Yum!

Tuesday, July 3

I worked until 12, at which point Lynn demanded that I go home.

They dragged me to a Day Spa. OHGOD. I got a gorgeous acupressure massage with essential oils. It was really ten kinds of awesome. Mere words cannot describe it. There were places on me that I hadn’t realized they hurt until the pain went away.

Just... WOAH.

After that we went home and flopped some more. Then we went to a Brazilian Steak house where the waiters carried the meat to your table on sticks. They served fried bananas as a palate cleanser and... oh my goodness, the stuff was so good. I was so full, it’s not even funny.

Jen, the sneaky wench, saw another table get a plate ofdessert with a candle in it for a birthday treat. Lotsa birthdays there actually. I never trust it when she ‘goes to the bathroom’ and stopps to have a chat with our waitress on the way.

I pulled that same trick on HER birthday.

The result: decadent chocolate cake with a chocolate shell and coffee mousse.

If that wasn’t enough, we stopped by Shiki pottery in Brightleaf square, where I was attacked by a pretty tea cup and some chopstick holders.

Now, by that point I was pretty happy. I was thinking that I’d gotten some seriously awesome birthday presents and I didn’t even have to find places to put them. I was seriously not expecting anything else. I mean, I got a peek at Jen’s receipt for the Day Spa and that ALONE would have been way more than enough. The Steakhouse was wonderful, but I know it wasn’t cheap either.

On top of all of that, I got presents. I really do not deserve my friends, but since I have them I’ll just have to counterplan Jen’s birthday. Mweheheheheheheh.

So, birthday presents (not counting Kitten):

1 bottle of Bailey’s
1 box of solid chocolate shot cups. (OMG!)
1 T-shirt from Barcelona featuring a mosaic by Gaudi
1 Alton Brown “Good Eats” Boxed Set. (happy whimpers)
1 Jewelry box made of inlaid wood and paula shell, ALSO from Spain. I know because Jen got one for herself too!
1 Absofuckinlutely gorgeous silver celtic knot pentacle. I love it. The knotwork is so dense that you don’t know the star’s there unless you know to look. It’s so subtle and means that I can wear a symbol of my religion without people stopping me to ask “Is that a Devil Star?”

We finished the night off with Champagne that Jen braved the crowds for when Foster’s closed and sold off the contents of their wine cellar.

*ded of love*

Wednesday, July 4

Three Words: Eno River Festival

SO much fun! Pictures to come!

I have soy candles and lovely North Carolina pottery! I even got to try a fried twinkie!

Last year I was broke and only recently employed when the Eno Festival happened. I’d just moved and my new job hadn’t coughed up my first paycheck yet by that point. It was such a thrill to go again with better stamina and money!

We also got to see a really lovely little Parade. I’m going to do some sketches of the parade puppets they were using in lieu of floats. It was REALLY well done. I was honestly impressed!

We made it home tired and happy. Finished off the evening with anime!

Today, July 5

So that brings us to today.

Today is my actual birthday. I’m now 23.

Ravyn’s on her flight homewards and I’m finishing up the work I let slack a bit on Tuesday.

Frankly, considering the week I just had? It’s nice to hide in my office and chill out.

Ravyn, Joanna, Jen, and whoever else was in on this.

I love you!

Voice Post

2007-03-03T17:36:08Z

WEBCOMIC!

2007-02-14T16:27:55Z

Hey there!

Pardon the long silence, I've been a little busy with this.

Please drop on by, leave a comment, or just boost the pageviews!!

Meme!

2007-01-23T14:22:57Z

Gacked from evilpuppy

"Reply to this post, and I will tell you my favorite icon of yours.Then post this to your own journal using your own favorite icon."

I've had it with FF.net

2007-01-22T15:39:48Z

I doubt I'm the first.

Anyway, due to FF.net's recent hiccups with the Author Alert System, I've decided to start a Yahoo Group and keep my fiction there. It will also let me send out alerts whenever (or however sparingly), I update.

The link can be found here.

It just seems to me like FF.net has gone from passingly fair, to bad, to worse in the last couple of years. The God Mods' habit of yanking fics with no warning has really got me worried. Those of you in the know are all too aware of my recent computer problems and the fact that I keep losing my collection of fiction (only one of the reasons it takes me forever and a year to update >_<). A few of those fics only live on at FF.net and I'm always worried that one day some kid will report me for some perceived slight and they'll get deleted, never to be seen again. So I've undertaken the task of backing them ALL up on the Yahoo Gorup.

Also, just for giggles, I've put up a bunch of my numerous WIPs from various fandoms to preserve them from my black thumb when it comes to computers. If you're interested, then by all means drop by and have a read. Right now the contents of the group is pretty much all the stuff I have on my work computer. I'm collecting all my fiction from where it's been backed up with Ravyn and JaneDrew, as well as various other places. This is a bit of an undertaking because at last tally I had at least 44 Rurouni Kenshin fics alone. Most of them have been relegated to the Plot Hutch since I don't have more than a nebulous idea of what's going on with them. The ones that I have Actual Plans for will go in the WIP folder. The stuff that is actualyl being actively updated will be in the Honest To God Genre Files (Rurouni Kenshin, Harry Potter, xxxHOLiC, etc. etc. ad nauseum)

So please, drop by, join and I'll send around e-mails when there's been a new update!

xxxHOLiC Drablets!

2007-01-19T00:49:05Z

So...

I was tossing around Character POV the other day, trying to get a handle on personalities so these are brief and more like sketches than anything else. However, there are three of them so if you're interested in xxxHOLiC then take a gander (and let me know how it come across).

*closet feedback eyes*

God, I'm such a feedback whore. It's truly sad...

~*~
Appearances
~*~
Himawari POV on Watanuki and her place in the scheme of things.
~*~

Despite appearances, Himawari was not unobservant.

Her world was very small by necessity. There were reasons –reasons she never liked to go into- why she could never interact with many people, not on an extended basis. There were some that she could be around without causing much … well, damage.

Watanuki was perhaps her first friend.

It wasn’t uncommon for the socially estranged to drift towards one another. Contact was contact, even if the only thing they had in common was the fact that they were essentially alone.

Then came Doumeki.

In their school it was common knowledge that where the bespectacled Watanuki went, eventually you would see his larger counterpart follow. Even in those early days before Watanuki’s ‘part-time job’, Doumeki did not leave Watanuki unsupervised very often.

On occasion, Himawari thought that maybe Doumeki knew what Watanuki was long before anyone told him. For reasons known only to him, he decided to make Watanuki his business. In typical Doumeki-fashion he did this suddenly, without announcements or justifications.

She suspected that Doumeki’s world was also very small.

Perhaps even smaller than her own.

There has always been a very clear understanding between her and Doumeki.

In his own way he had always been very jealous of Watanuki’s time… ‘jealous’ was not perhaps the right word. However, Doumeki did not share him if he could help it. Himawari knew the only reason she was allowed as close as she got was because Watanuki sincerely wanted her company and that she posed no intentional threat to either Doumeki or Watanuki.

… the unintentional threat was something that Doumeki kept in check with his very presence.

She and Doumeki understood each other very well. They understood the other’s place in the group dynamic. Moreover she understood that Doumeki had drawn a very clear line in the sand between her and Watanuki. It was unspoken that she would be permitted to stay as long as she was mindful of her place.

That was a condition Himawari could live with.

So she feigned ignorance of Watanuki’s clumsy courtship. It was partly for his sake, really. She knew he did not really like her in the way a boy likes a girl. In his mind it seemed natural that a boy should have a crush on a girl and he craved normality. She was the most approachable girl he knew. It was logical that she would be his choice.

Eventually, perhaps, it would wear off. Watanuki was not for her and she was not for him. Himawari knew this the way she knew up was not down. It was simply a fact of life.

She did not encourage or discourage him because the day would come when Watanuki’s attention shifted to where it was supposed to be… to that thing which was right in front of him, or in most cases looming behind him like a second shadow. When that time came it would be easier for him to let go of something that had never actually been and embrace what was waiting for him.

Himawari was not unobservant.

She could see what was right in front of her.

~Owari
~*~

~*~
Sound and Fury
~*~
Doumeki on the subject of Watanuki, white noise, and what matters in the end.
~*~

Doumeki had known of Watanuki long before Watanuki knew of him.

Not specifically, but generally.

Early on the boy had made something of a reputation for himself. Most of the people in town knew of him at least or had walked by when the spirits were on him particularly hard. Most thought he was very expressive, some thought he might have epilepsy, others just thought he wanted the attention.

Everyone agreed he was harmless.

Doumeki had always attended the same school as Watanuki, more or less. There was a brief period in middle school when he’d gone to a school closer to his parents. That lasted until his grandfather died. Afterward it was decided by the family that he would move in with his grandmother to keep her company and become acquainted with the shrine that he would eventually run.

From that point up into his freshman year of high school, Watanuki was white noise. He was the boy who was always late, yet never really reprimanded for it. He was the boy who occasionally got stuck to the quad, as if there was something incredibly heavy holding him down. He was the boy who always had the good bento. The other children were jealous until someone let it leak that he made his own.

They were never in the same class until High School and so Doumeki had never had cause to learn Watanuki’s name.

Even then, Watanuki remained white noise to Doumeki. Most things were white noise to him. His mother called him cold. His father called him ‘remote’. His teachers called him focused. The girls called him distant. The boys called him cool.

It was all sound and fury to him, signifying nothing.

After his grandfather died Doumeki looked after the temple. He looked after his Grandmother. He studied. He practiced archery. He existed. For a while, that was enough.

Then… little by little… it wasn’t.

Dissatisfaction crept onto him, riding his shoulder like some sort of tiny demon. His Grandmother told him he was like his Grandfather and lacked distraction. At first, he did not understand what she meant by that.

He might never have found out if his Grandmother hadn’t gone to Parent-Teacher Day at the high school. If Watanuki hadn’t shown up resolute and alone. If someone hadn’t made him explain why his parents hadn’t come. If his grandmother hadn’t recognized his name.

If she hadn’t told Doumeki about it.

“Such troubles that family has.” She’d murmured, half to herself half to her grandson as they walked home to the shrine. “They came to the Shrine often. They saw things the way your grandfather did. Poor boy, he probably does too…”

That was the beginning of it.

The next morning he watched Watanuki run into school late. He watched Watanuki in class… watched the boy’s eyes track things where there was nothing to see. He watched the boy step around things that were not there.

Then he just started to watch closer.

There wasn’t really any way to describe their relationship, if in fact they had one, except to say that Watanuki needed a keeper and Doumeki needed someone to keep.

~Owari
~*~

~*~
Red Chains
~*~
Watanuki POV on what he did and did not sign up for.
~*~

Being in love was not what Watanuki had expected.

Love was… well, he’d expected it to be like his crush on Himawari back when he’d thought that was love: all birdsong, glowing smiles, butterflies in his stomach, and dying for want of a chance to walk her home.

He hadn’t expected… well, what he had gotten.

It wasn’t sweet it and it wasn’t fun. There were no singing birds. He definitely didn’t get a choice about being walked home. It was intense, terrifying, and damn near unstoppable. There was nothing cute about this love. It was all gossamer thin threads, stronger than steel cables that bound him hand and foot.

That nonsense about the ‘red thread’ didn’t cover it.

Love was a chain.

It wasn’t on the pinky finger either, it was seated right in the center of his stomach and it pulled… pulled in ways he hated and liked all at the same time. It didn’t take much; a look, a nod, the sudden feeling of attention completely on him … then that chain tightened and made him shiver.

Love was terrifying.
~*~

~Owari

Rowe's Rule: Chapter One

2007-01-10T14:58:00Z

Rowe's Rule

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Rowe's Rule: the odds are five to six that the light at the end of the tunnel is the headlight of an oncoming train. AU

Warnings: Timeline Rewrite, Neville Longbottom as 'Boy who Lived', Harry's Compulsive Tea Drinking

Eventual Pairings: To Be Announced... (it's not vital to the plot or likely to happen anytime soon.)

~*~
Chapter One
Society and Solitude
~*~

There are certain events which to each man's life are as comets to the earth, seemingly strange and erratic portents; distinct from the ordinary lights which guide our course and mark our seasons, yet true to their own laws, potent in their own influences.
- Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton,
What Will He Do With It? (bk. II, ch. XIV)

~*~

When Harry turned sixteen, the Dursleys threw him out.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected nor was it abrupt. They jumped through all the legal hoops and untangled the red tape to declare Harry an emancipated youth. It would have caused them more trouble in the long run if they had simply dumped him at King’s Cross with a suitcase and enough money for a ticket.

After all, someone might have returned him and no-one wanted that.

Vernon drove Harry to London and dropped him off in front of the station. There were no good-byes. For his part, Harry didn’t even watch his Uncle drive away. It hurt, yes… but as Harry stood on the curb and looked up at the tower clock built into the front of the imposing brick building he found that it was a clean sort of hurt.

“It’s finally over.” He sighed and rubbed his ribcage under his shirt. Earlier in the season, Dudley had seemed to realize that he was about to lose his favorite punching bag and decided to make use of the time he had. The final count was about two broken ribs and innumerable bruises. The ribs had mended with some assist from the school nurse, but his side was still tender.

In an hour or two he’d let himself get scared about the future, what he’d do, where he would go. In a little while he’d let himself wonder who would hire a teenage boy at a living wage. For the moment, Harry decided that the most he would think about was getting a mug of tea and something to eat. He would find a quiet spot and just… rest for a moment.

There was a sandwich vendor on a street corner in-between the St. Pancras Station and the King’s Cross station who sold Harry a roast beef sandwich with a heavy helping of chips. He had tea in his bag and a thermos. The vendor was kind enough to share some hot water with him so he could brew his own.

Harry took his lunch inside King’s Cross to escape the late summer sun. Inside the station it was cool and comfortable. Harry found himself relaxing in the anonymous tide of people as he wandered the station, looking for a quiet place to have his lunch. The sound of people going back and forth, their voices as they talked or shouted, it all blended into a soothing sort of white noise.

For years, he’d hated the silence. He couldn’t stand it, not knowing when his Aunt or Uncle might shout for him or burst out around the corner to drag him off to some chore or punishment.

He found a good spot in-between the 9th and 10th platforms. There was a disused bench there and Harry sat there. Most of the other seats were occupied by tired travelers as they grabbed a nap during a lay-over or folks who were waiting to pick someone up. In retrospect, Harry would realize that his first clue should have been that the bench was empty in a deserted area, despite being located in-between two busy platforms.

Harry un-wrapped his sandwich and pulled the tea bag out of his thermos. As he ate his lunch, he engaged in a little people-watching. It occurred to him that there were a lot of students in the crowd, but he wrote it off after a moment. They were probably all going to the same boarding school. It was common for the more exclusive schools to just book a train to make sure everyone arrived on time.

In theory he should have been getting ready for classes himself, but he’d gone to public school and had incentive to graduate early.

The school kids just looked so young… well, they were young, Harry amended. They were probably a good few years younger than he was. Still, as he watched those fresh little faces being herded along by parents who all wore the same expression of mixed pride and sadness… well… there was no use in being maudlin.

“Excuse me, Lad. Do you mind if I sit here a bit?”

Harry blinked and looked up as an older man sat down next to him with a sigh of relief. For a second he thought he was seeing things (again), but a second look confirmed that the man was in fact there next to him… lurid purple silk bathrobe, floppy hat, toad and all. He gulped and shook his head.

“Excellent!” The man sighed and leaned back. “I’ll never get used to this muggle business of trains and all, no offense meant of course, but it’s a dashed lot of noise and crush in here. You on your way to school, lad?”

“Ah, no. I graduated last year.” Harry replied in as polite a manner as he could muster and hoped he wasn’t having a hallucination again. He saw thing sometimes, things that no one else saw. After the first few incidents when he’d tried to tell his Aunt and Uncle, Harry had learned to just keep it quiet and be polite to the phantasms when he saw them.

“Precocious!” The man laughed. “I just dropped my nephew off at the Express. He’s taking his final year this year… lost his toad again though. Figured I’d stay near until he thinks to ‘accio’ the thing back. Don’t let me interrupt your lunch though.”

“That’s all right, sir.” Harry was pretty certain by that point that he was seeing things again. It didn’t bother him really. No one was watching and he was probably lonely if his subconscious mind was manufacturing chatty old men for him to talk to. “I don’t have to be anywhere soon.”

“Ah, on your way to a job then?” The old man guessed and then frowned when Harry shook his head. “Visiting someone then? On you your way home to see your parents?” With each guess the old man looked more and more frustrated. “Well, dash it, man. Satisfy an old man’s puerile curiosity and tell me then!”

“Well, I don’t know.” Harry replied. There really wasn’t any point in lying to a figment of his imagination. “My Aunt and Uncle left me at the station with money for a ticket somewhere. Haven’t rightly decided where I want to go then.”

The old man frowned. “… you on a holiday or some such, lad?”

“Ah… no. I graduated last year. My Aunt and Uncle didn’t see much reason to keep me around after that.” Harry shrugged. “Well, that’s not important. I expect I’ll find something one way or another. Is your nephew in University then or still in secondary school?”

“Secondary school, I expect you’d say… ‘ere now, lad. How old are you?”

“I’m not a runaway.” Harry sighed, getting an idea where this conversation was headed. “I’m looking for work.” He temporized. “There isn’t much to be had in Surrey so I came to London.” There, it wasn’t the precise truth, but it eased that wrinkle of suspicion in-between the old man’s eyes. There was still no point in lying, but there was even less point in pouring out his life story in the middle of a busy railway station to someone who may or may not exist.

“Well, that’s different. Not much out by way of Surrey.” The man agreed. “Nope, London’s were you want to be. Got any ideas where you want to go? Diagon Alley? Marjen Space? Thatta Way? Lots of good districts around here.”

“Aaah… well, I don’t know.” Harry shrugged one shoulder. He didn’t bother to ask why the old man was telling him to walk ‘diagonally’ or go ‘that way’. His hallucinations had given him stranger advice in the past. “Wherever they need someone who can scrub floors and cook meals, I suppose. I don’t imagine they’d hire a sixteen year old for much else.”

“Hrmmm… I’d try some of the commercial districts then, like Diagon Alley.” The man paused and blinked as the toad suddenly jerked out of his hands and then flew through the wall behind them. “Well, that’s that.” He chortled. “’Ere now, my name is Algernon Longbottom. What’s yours?”

“Harry… Harry Underhill.” Harry had no idea what possessed him to lie, but sometimes his gut told him to do things and he did them without thinking about it… he never regretted it. Of course, if the old man was a Tolkien fan then he was up the creek without a paddle…

“A good name.” Algernon agreed. “Well, I must be off now that my nephew has his toad. I like you, boy. I’ll owl you sometime.”

“I’ll look forward to it, sir. Have a safe trip.” Harry agreed, not even bothering to wonder what the man had meant by that.

~*~
Your ticket to the future is always blank.
- Vash the Stampede ‘Trigun’
~*~

In the end, Harry decided to stay in London.

He found a place to stay for the night in a Youth Hostel. It was filled mostly by American students who were passing through either on business, study trips, or holiday. Still, it was cheap and he got breakfast the next morning.

The Hostel he’d picked happened to be run by a local Church and after a brief conversation, one of the sisters gave him a list of possibilities where he might find work. Most of the options were pubs and the like, which offered room and board as part of the wage.

Near as he could tell, that was probably his best option to start off. There weren’t many places that would hire someone of his age, much less rent them a room.

He also parted with a few pence and bought a local paper. The employment ads showed some promise and he tucked it in his bag for later perusal.

The Sister’s list wasn’t very helpful, as it turned out. Harry was under no illusions that he had anything even resembling a formidable physique and most of the pubs who were hiring wanted someone who could do a bouncer’s work when necessary. Harry spent his morning visiting various businesses to fill out applications. The forecast was not pretty. He had no character witnesses (unless you wanted to count his Aunt and Uncle), no permanent address, and no phone number.

Around noon, he stopped on Charing Cross Road about halfway between Trafalgar Square and St. Giles’ Circus for a break. He picked a pub at random and went in for a drink a bit of a rest. He’d managed to scrape together a decent amount of funds doing odd jobs around Little Whinging when his Aunt and Uncle couldn’t see, so he wasn’t destitute. However, he had to be careful with the money. It wouldn’t last very long.

Too tired to really pay attention to anything, Harry dragged himself to the bar and dropped himself down onto a stool. The barkeep was occupied with another customer so Harry just took a moment to read the menu and rest his feet.

The pub fare was pretty standard: fry-ups, ploughman’s lunch, and the ubiquitous stew that had been simmering on the stove since time immemorial and contained whatever leftovers that the cook cared to throw in to keep it hearty.

Right about that time, the barkeep noticed him and came over “What can I get for you, lad?” His voice was not unkind, although somewhat distracted.

“Ploughman’s lunch, please, and a mug of tea.” Harry scooped the correct change out of his pocket and paid the man. To his surprise, the barkeep blinked at the quid in his hand and eyed Harry.

“Ah…” The barkeep seemed to be at a loss for a moment before a professional smile snapped into place on his face, despite the hush that had fallen over the immediate area. “Well, thank you. I’ll have it out in a mo. Let me get you that tea…”

Harry looked about to find several of the bar’s patrons staring at him with expressions that ranged from shock to amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the barkeep engaged in a deep conversation with a mammoth of a man who kept looking at Harry and then back at the barkeep.

‘Oh, bloody hell. I don’t know what this means, but its trouble… and I was hungry too’ Harry thought as he reached for his bag. He’d have to think of a way to recoup the cost of his lunch later, but for the moment discretion seemed to be the better part of valor… or at least is would have been if he hadn’t found the exit blocked.

The man who had blocked the door wore wearing a robe not unlike the one Algernon had been when Harry had met him in King’s Cross, only in a sedate shade of green instead of that eye-searing violet. He held up his hands in a gesture that most people used on small animals. “Now, lad. No one is going to hurt you.”

“Please, move and let me past.” Harry throat felt tight and his eyes were burning. He hated the feeling that came with an adrenaline rush. It felt like hot liquid was rushing through his veins and swirling in his head.

“Now, lad…” The man’s brown eyes met Harry’s green and held.

“Let me past.” Harry hissed.

The man shook his head and broke their gaze, but he didn’t move. He wavered on his feet for a moment before he pulled a slender stick out of his sleeve. “Sorry, lad. That won’t work on me.” He looked more sad than angry. “I promise you that no one is going to harm you. We only want to help.”

A massive hand fell on Harry’s shoulder and closed around it. Harry made an undignified squeak as he found himself lifted into the air and set back down on his abandoned barstool.

“Na’ ye he’ave yerself, lad.” The giant rumbled. “B’aint nothin’ to be afraid of. Look na’, Tom ‘as yer lunch.”

Harry blinked as the barkeep, who Harry assumed was ‘Tom’ pointed as the spot in front of Harry with a stick similar to the one man in the doorway had and said something incomprehensible in rather crude Latin.

Only the giant’s hand still on his shoulder kept Harry from falling out of his chair when a plate of bread and cheese appeared in front of him, complete with a rosy-cheeked apple and a large ceramic mug of tea.

“Bugger!” Harry winced as he caught himself swearing. “I mean… how did you… that… is that even edible?”

“It is at that.” The man who had been blocking Harry’s escape came to sit by him. “Old Tom made the bread fresh this morning and bought the cheese just yesterday. He just summoned it out of the kitchen for you.” He stuck out his hand for a shake. “The name is Charlie, Charlie Weasley. Sorry about the to-do in the doorway.”

“Ah… that’s all right…” Harry took the hand and submitted to an energetic shake. “Where…”

“Where are you? Well Sirrah, you’re in the Leaky Cauldron right off of Charing Cross Road in London. If you need further elucidation then you are also in the United Kingdoms.” Charlie winked and gestured to Tom with the empty beer glass that he’d abandoned to catch Harry. “Another pint, if you please, Tom.”

“I think you’ve had enough, unless you want to visit your mum with liquor on your breath.” Tom laughed as Charlie shuddered. “Tea then.”

“Black! Strong as you can brew it!” Charlie ordered and then turned back to Harry. “Now, lad, you’re not seeing things or going crazy. I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your little green eyes. This is real, it actually happened and you’re not a nutter.”

Harry dropped his gaze and took up the wedge of sharp yellow cheese on his lunch plate. It tasted… good, like cheese always had. He chewed and then swallowed. The taste, the texture, the slightly sticky feeling in his throat as he swallowed… it was all as he would have expected. Would any dream or hallucination be that detailed?

“You in there, lad?” Charlie leaned over and bent over so that he could look up at Harry’s face. “Tom, I think he’s gone into shock. Think an ‘ennervate’ would do him any good?”

“Now go easy on the lad, he’s had a surprise.” Tom replied in his sedate manner. “I thought he was a muggleborn and I was right.”

“You usually are.” Charlie replied as he caught the mug that Tom summoned for him. “Now, lad, what are you doing wandering London alone with a suitcase?”

Harry was rapidly beginning to recognize the ‘are you a runaway?’ face on sight. To be honest, it was getting bloody annoying. “I’m looking for work.” He bit off a chunk of bread, chewed, and swallowed. Loathe as he was to have to tell his story over and over, giving some details now would save him trouble later on. “I graduated last year and my Aunt and Uncle decided it was time for me to be on my own. Not much to tell, really.”

“… old enough... bloody muggles. Dad loves the lot of them, but sometimes I can’t see the attraction.” Charlie sighed and slumped on the bar. “All right, let’s start at the beginning… Tom, help me here. I’ve never done this before!”

“That’d be because you spend most of your time haring around Romania with your dragons.” Tom shot back. He came over and leaned on the bar in front of Harry. “What’s your name, lad?”

“… Daniel Underhill.” Harry lied without even thinking why. He still had that feeling from King’s Cross, although in retrospect he realized that feeling might have had more to do with fear than any premonition. Still, he didn’t trust the people in the Leaky Cauldron just yet and he didn’t want to give them anymore means of tracking him down if he chose to run.

“All right, Daniel. Have you ever made something happen… just because you wanted it too? Do you see things that no one else sees?”

Harry’s expression must have betrayed him, because Tom smiled. “You see things, then? I thought so. The things you’ve see are real, Daniel. They aren’t figments of your imagination and you aren’t hallucinating or whatever people tell you that you’ve been doing. Your magic lets you see things that are hidden from normal people. I bet… I just bet, that things used to happen around you… I bet people did what you wanted them to, especially when you looked them in the eyes.”

Part of Harry scoffed at the idea. If he could make people do thing, then why hadn’t he made his Aunt and Uncle treat him decently… although, that tiny voice of logic in the back of his head did point out that he’d learned early on not to look his relatives in the eye. The rest of him was occupied with a faded childhood memory of talking to the snakes in the garden… back when he’d truly believed that they could talk back.

“Word of advice, if you’re doing that on purpose I’d stop.” Charlie opined. “It won’t work very well on another wizard and mind control is illegal in our part of the world.”

“Hush, you.” Tom turned back to Harry. “Now, we Wizards don’t usually mix with the muggle world… normal world, that is. We’re something of a minority and well, if you’ve grown up in the muggle world then you’ve got a pretty good idea of what kind of reaction the non-magical people have when something new and strange comes along.”

“So, what…? You’re telling me I’m some sort of Wizard and just never knew it?” Harry clenched his fists in his lap. “That I have some sort of power? That’s the way cults work. They prey on a person’s need to fit in or have power over something and then exploit it. Why the hell should I believe you?”

To his surprise, Charlie laugh and Tom only smiled.

“Well, it’s a change from delusions of grandeur. Normally the older Muggle-borns start spouting off about how they’d know it all along.” Tom mused. “Yes, you’re right. Cults do work that way and in the end you’re the one who will have to decide what world you want to live in. Still, you should know there are options.”

“Go on and finish your lunch, Danny-boy, and think about things.” Charlie advised. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. This time, if you want to leave we won’t stop you. If you want to stay, then we’ll be willing to help you get your feet wet. Think on it.”

And Harry did think on it all through lunch. He thought about it as he left the Leaky Cauldron without saying good bye. True to Charlie’s word, no one stopped him. Harry thought about it while he took the underground back to his hostel and laid awake well into the night still thinking about it.

Tom didn’t seem very surprised when Harry arrived back at the pub early the next morning and asked if he knew anyone who was hiring.

~*~
Thou must (in commanding and winning, or serving and losing, suffering or triumphing) be either anvil or hammer.
[Ger., Du musst (herrschen und gewinnen,
Oder dienen und verlieren,
Leiden oder triumphiren),
Amboss oder Hammer sein.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Grosscophta (II)
~*~

“… not that I don’t mind, lad, but we’ve got to get you enrolled in school.”

Harry sighed as Tom went through his meager suitcase applying charms to every piece to shrink it, enlarge it, mend it, clean it, or protect it from damage. Harry was grateful for the help, although it was worth mentioning that he had not in fact requested it.

“Failing that, we’ve got to get you some decent clothes. Did you ever actually fit into these?” Tom held up a pair of pants that Harry had gotten hand-me-down from Dudley. He eyed the cracked leather belt that Harry used to cinch them around his narrow waist. “I don’t know if I can shrink these down to proper size and make them still fit. You may need to take them to an actual stitch-witch.”

Later, Harry would think to ask what in the blue blazes a ‘stitch-witch’ was, but for the moment Harry settled for a noncommittal noise.

“All right, lad. Most of these bits here aren’t fit for rags. No wonder you haven’t been able to find work…” Tom wrinkled his nose at the contents of Harry’s suitcase. “… but I’ve done what I can so you don’t look like a ragamuffin. Charlie should be oozing by in an hour or so trying to avoid his mother. I’ll have him take you through to Diagon Alley and introduce you around.”

“Thank you.” Harry did his best to sound grateful, but to tell the truth he still hadn’t quite adjusted to the idea of magic… or the idea that random strangers could be kind.

“No need to thank me, lad.” Tom assured him. “You can work it off. As it happens, today’s the day when I’m on my own. Usually I have someone in the kitchens putting together the plates and minding the stew, but today’s her day off. You’ll be doing me no small favor if you stick with me during the breakfast rush. Charlie won’t be by until I open the taps.”

Now there was something Harry could understand. “Where do I start?”

Tom blinked and then laughed. “You’re an odd duck, Danny. Are you sure you’re sixteen? If any of my boys had been like you then I might still have my hair.” He winked and ran a hand over his shiny cranium.

If there was one thing Harry knew then it was work. He let Tom lead him into the kitchens and give him a brief tour.

A lot of the actual work involved in the kitchens was done by magic. There was an industrious scrub brush and rag that sprang to life and scrubbed the daylights out of any hapless dish placed into the sink and an embedded homing charm in the plates sent them drifting into the drying rack until they were ready to float into the cabinets.

Dust, dirt, and debris on the floor sort of migrated into a dust pan off in the corner that periodically emptied itself into the trash. A like-minded dust rag occasionally sprang to like to catch a spot or a splatter on the clean walls around the giant cauldron sitting over a hearth that somehow did not turn the small kitchen into a sweltering hell-hole.

“There’s a lot you can do with magic.” Tom explained to Harry as he showed off the well-stocked pantry. “You can give simple, direct orders to inanimate objects and they’ll do whatever you tell them as long as its straight-forward. However, if you want any sort of autonomy, then that’s where the problem starts. It can be done, but the spell needs to be constantly redefined and adjusted. You have to keep a constant vigilance on it. In the end you end up putting more effort into the spell than it would have taken to just do it yourself in the first place. You see where I’m coming from with this?”

“I think so, oddly enough. Do it’s just easier to hire someone to keep up the place?” Harry guessed.

“Got it in one. Now, what I need you to do is keep an eye on the sink and the dust pan. If they start acting funny then come and get me. Other than that, stir the pot every now and then and put together a plate when I send you an order.” Tom indicated a small chalkboard on the wall next to the door, which let out into the pub proper. “The orders will show up there and you just put them together. Can you do a fry-up?”

“I can cook most things if I have a recipe, except the fancy things.” Harry shrugged and did his best to ignore the inquiring look on Tom’s face. “Just write out what you want in the orders and I’ll put it together.”

“All right then, lad. We’ll be doing fry-ups for breakfast until eleven or so then after that we’re serving ploughman’s lunch, shepherd’s pie, and pasties. Let’s get you kitted up with an apron. Don’t worry about coming up front to ask questions.”

Much to Tom’s consternation, even the smallest of the aprons in storage was too big for Harry and he was forced to shrink one of them. There was a loose black cap running around one of the boxes in the linen closet dating back to one of Tom’s previous helpers. Harry wore that to keep his disastrous black hair out of the food.

Once Harry was outfitted to Tom’s satisfaction, the barkeep turned him loose in the kitchen. Tome left him with some parting instructions. “Now, if you get hungry you can have some of the bread and cheese… or anything that’s too burned for the custom, free of charge. I was your age once too, so there’s no point in going hungry.”

Harry restrained himself to a polite nod.

Tom watched him for a moment and then sighed. “Well, you’ll do fine. Come and get me if you have trouble.” … and he left.

‘Well…’ Harry took a breath and surveyed his new –if transitory- kingdom. ‘Better get to work…’

~*~

There's chapter one! I'm having insane amounts of fun writing this story.

Rowe's Rule: Prologue

2007-01-10T14:42:47Z

This is a Harry Potter Fic I've been working on lately. If you want to read it in the FF.net format then I have it posted under my HP identity: Mother of Memory.

Rowe's Rule

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Rowe's Rule: the odds are five to six that the light at the end of the tunnel is the headlight of an oncoming train. AU

Warnings: Time line Rewrite, Neville Longbottom as 'Boy who Lived', Harry's Compulsive Tea Drinking

Eventual Pairings: To Be Announced... (it's not vital to the plot or likely to happen anytime soon.)

~*~
Prologue
A Minor Divergence
~*~

November came like a sweet breath of fresh air that year.

Albus Dumbledore stood on the tiny balcony outside his modest suite in Hogwarts and breathed it in. The morning breeze was ripe with dew off the moor and for a moment he let his mind go pleasantly blank.

The rustle of owl wings startled him out of it soon enough. He sighed as the first of many owls landed on the railing with a fat stack of letters.

He took the letters and sent the owl on its way with a nice tip before he retreated into his office, shut the doors behind him, and drew the curtains. It wouldn’t stop the persistent owls from the Ministry, but it would at least cut some of the volume.

One of the baskets flanking his desk emitted a gurgle and Albus leaned over the edge to peer inside. A chubby arm pushed aside the blankets covering it to reveal a tiny thatch of black hair. Albus permitted himself a smile and knelt to rearrange the blankets around James and Lily’s now orphaned son… one of many casualties of the war. One of many loose ends that needed to be tied up.

In response to his companion’s activity, the second basket emitted a half-hearted wail. Albus sighed and noted –not for the first time- that he was getting far too old for this sort of thing.

Young Neville Longbottom sniffled as Albus came into view and squirmed with discomfort. Albus brushed the boy’s downy brown hair aside and examined the scar there. The lightening-bolt scar was red and angry, only just beginning to scab over. Albus clucked his tongue softly and cast the mildest palliative charm he knew to soothe the infant’s pain.

“Poor child, to be victim of an old man’s folly…” Albus murmured. He’d been sure, so sure that Voldemort would target the Potters. Frank and Alice had been powerful Aurors, too dangerous a target for Voldemort to risk in person… and both pureblood. Albus had been sure that Tom would have seen the half-blood child as the greater threat.

Now both children had been robbed of their parents and one of them had been saddled with the burden of fame before he’d even left the cradle.

Young Harry’s case was blissfully uncomplicated. Even in the wake of the tragedy of his godfather’s imprisonment, the boy still had family in the muggle world. His Aunt and Uncle on Lily’s side would take him. Albus would have to arrange to have the boy smuggled out of the school, lest someone from the Ministry intercept him and mistake him for Neville.

Neville would have to be kept away from the wizard population for a while. His grandmother had been an Order member in her time and Albus was sure that she’d take the boy in. No one would question her reclusive ways, especially not after the loss of her firstborn son.

With the children settled, Albus turned back to the stack of mail on his desk. The top letter was a foreboding shade of red and the address indicated that it was from the Minister of Magic.

Albus sighed once more, cast a silencing spell around the sleeping boys, and began to open his mail.

More chapters to come!

Nubian Pharaohs!

2007-01-10T14:23:23Z

Looks like my godmother managed to get that book of hers published!

See it here!

2006 in Review

2007-01-01T13:46:56Z

Well, it was better and worse than some years.

The Good:

1. Moved over 3000 miles away from my Mother: never going back again and seem to have found my feet this time. Yay!
2. Have put together School Fund.
3. Will be using that fund in... 33 hours. Holy Crap.
4. The cats have settled and can acknowledge each other's presence without fuss.
5. Have two wonderful room mates.
6. Am living in the town I wanted to when I was younger (so sue me, I like Raleigh-Durham!)
7. I landed a fantastic job.

The Bad:

1. Moved over 3000 miles away from home: Mom will not leave me alone.
2. Never did hear back from the financial aide people so I have no idea whether the school fun is getting saved for next semester or not.
3. Quitting smoking is still an ongoing project.

The Ugly:

1. Moved over 3000 miles away from home: Mom will not leave me alone.

So it has been a somewhat uneventful year, but I think I've managed. 2007 has found me in a new place and I'm interested to see where I'll go from here.

The message says it all

2006-12-25T21:06:28Z

http://www.GlitterMaker.com/ - Glitter Graphics - MySpace Layouts

^_^ Eat your hearts out, girls.

2006-12-10T15:01:21Z

You Are Creepy

Serial killers would run away from you in a flash.

How Scary Are You?

C'est Bleh

2006-12-07T14:24:31Z

OK

Officially annoyed.

Yesterday was fairly good. Got through work vaguely unscathed with what I assume is fairly decent call time and a minimum of idiocy (barring the Russian Bastard, but I digress). Got my PTO approved like five minutes after it was time for me to go. Thankfully, I'd been kept behind on a call and was packing up as I got the e-mail letting me know that I had the 17th off.

Went home, made dinner. jane_drew_ came home with this new kind of pasta that was really really good and we ate it with some ciabatta bread and four-cheese sauce. Yum. After that we watched Princess Tutu until I started dozing off in between episodes and hauled myself off. Should have been a nice quiet close to the day.Yes?

No.

Anyone who knows me knows I sleep like the dead. I sleep like the dead on valium.

So mom calls about an hour after I crawled into my den. It's eleven o'clock at night. I had work the next morning. Of COURSE I'm dead asleep. Where did she THINK I'd be?

jane_drew_ brought the phone up and well, I didn't wake up when she knocked. I woke up a little but dropped right back off. By the time Lynn got through to me, Mom had hung up. I'm not really sure she remembered that it was an hour earlier for her and an hour later for us. Poor jane_drew_, I wouldn't wish my mother on anyone and she had to put up with her when she had gotten herself worked up into a lather.

Long story short: Mom wants me to come to Christmas. I'd planned to drive so that I'd have my own mode of transport, but the roads got rained out between here and Lexington. I've never done a 8-9 hour drive by myself... much less over mountains in the dark and the rain.

I decided to ignore it this year, figuring that it was too late to buy tickets.

>_< Mom decided somewhere along the line that I wanted her to BUY me a ticket.

*pauses for headdesk*

SO, long story short: ended up going round and round with my mother last night and ended up letting her buy a ticket to make her happy. How this worked out, I'm still not sure. Be that as it may, I'm flying out at something ungodly on the 15th and then flaying back about 10 ish in the morning on the 17th.

At least this means I don't have to post the Kentucky package. I can carry it in my luggage.

d_ragondaughter @ 2006-11-22T13:14:00

2006-11-22T18:14:41Z

*grins*

Okay, I was bitten by the NationStates bug.

Thus was born The Rogue Nation of Superior Causistry

Rachaels OBJECT~

2006-11-22T13:59:11Z

Holy Crap.

Tis wet and cold outside.

Rachaels do not like it.

Rachaels OBJECT.

Ok, Day Two of the Cold and Wet and Raininess.

Today is the day that jane_drew_ and I were planning to head to VA for Thanksgivingness.

Here is the forecast:

Wednesday

Highs of 43 degrees F (6 C)
Lows of 39 degrees F (4 C)
Chance of Rain: 100% (This is up from yesterday. It was 80% last night.)

Right now it's 42 degrees F (5.6 C) outside, plus copious rain and wind.

Yesterday it was dark before five in the evening.

If today is anything as bad as yesterday then we probably will not go tonight. We'll drive out Thursday morning.

Bleeeeeeh.

Memage

2006-11-17T21:00:38Z

Gacked from the lovely evilpuppy

1. Comment to this entry with a post you think would be totally out of character for me — something I'd never talk about, never discuss, never say, anything. It has to be completely out of character.

2. Post this in your own journal if you want to

d_ragondaughter @ 2006-10-30T15:00:00

2006-10-30T20:00:24Z

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

In July I pushed whiteadelphi in the mud (-17 points). In June I bought porn for jane_drew_ (10 points). In October I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as someone else and I didn't yield (-8 points). Last Saturday I committed genocide... Sorry about that, rikkitsune (-5000 points). In January I turned katmorning in for eating carbs (3 points).

Overall, I've been naughty (-5012 points). For Christmas I deserve a spanking!

Sincerely,
d_ragondaughter

POLLNESS!

2006-10-25T19:00:44Z

View Poll: Eddie Izzard

Coats and Hats and Gloves, OH MY!

2006-10-16T13:34:22Z

So, I am shopping for a coat.

... and making a list of the things I apparently need for Winter. I'm going to make a list and do an estimate of how much I will need for it all.

Coat:

I have two options that I like the looks of. They're both from the Lane Bryant website. One is a classic trench that is meant to be an 'all weather' type of thing. The other one is a full-length berber coat.

The trench is $119.00, but has a zip-out lining for multiple seasons and also works as a rain coat.

The Berber coat is $79.99, but has an attached hood. It would not be so good for the damp and is listed as 'lightweight'. However, it is prettier and softer.

Both of them give me $5 off the purchase of some lined gloves, which I also need. These gloves are going for $14 bucks on the website.

According to Miss Joanna, I also need a hat. Those are pretty easy to find, so I can pick up a couple at target. Scarves are things I can make and already have at least one of.

I also need an ice scraper for my windshield and some sort of spray stuff called 'de-ice' or something like that.

Ok, the ice scraper and the spray stuff should come easily. I'm told they sell them at Target and Kroger.

So, big things of the Next Paycheck. Coat.

EDIT: Love my friends, 'bout ready to kill them. Have not ever had to BUY a coat for actual cold weather. Was just looking for advice. I now have copious examples of coat that will not do. Have not yet found an example of one that will. T_T

ICE!!! >_

2006-10-15T12:45:10Z

Holy.

Fucking.

GOD.

There was ICE on my windshield this morning. ICE, I tell you!

Even the freaking grass is frozen.

I blame Jo. She was going on about how we needed to go pick up an ice scraper and some ice-off for my truck before the first freeze came along. She has also been saying Pointed Things about coats, gloves, hats, and boots.

Mama, I do not think that I am in South Texas anymore.

d_ragondaughter @ 2006-10-13T10:54:00

2006-10-13T14:56:07Z

The Strength card affirms that my alter ego today is the seductive beast of my Animagus, whose superpower is to master self-control to tame fears or impulses to prove of what stuff I'm made. I boldly go... but a willful heart is part of my secret identity. My infinite fortitude is seen by what I do, sacrifice or defy to stand up for what I feel is right, including admitting when I'm wrong, keeping out of it or not dignifying responses provoked by moral cowards and brutes. When resolve is tested I draw on the courage of my true character from the more savage or humble virtues of my natural instincts to maintain objective by composure. This enables me to hold my tongue against bravado, repress claws at empty threats, and not turn tail in pride against passion when it's hard or inconvenient, but to persuade through self-restraint until assimilation is complete or resistance is futile.

"I boldly go... " "until assimilation is complete or resistance is futile"

Um... okay, clearly whoever was writing this was having too much fun with the Star Trek references.

yay, Mentor...ing

2006-10-12T13:20:28Z

W00t!

ANNOUNCEMENT TO ALL DOOMIANS!

At 1 o'clock today to whenever (probably close) I'll be babysitting the new class. April asked me to take calls for them to listen to and I'll be sharing my screen so I cannot chat during this time. I'll be sitting in the conference room to watch the laptops when break comes around so I'll try and log on then. Sadly, I will not be getting the hour lunch break, but that's okay. It means I don't have to get up any earlier!

So if y'all start wondering where I am, no one can say I didn't tell you.