Happy birthday to you,
Snarky writers worship you,
You are awesome and amazing,
And Discworld is too!

From me and peacefuldragon (who helped me write the song) at least: HAPPY SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY, TERRY PRATCHETT! WE LOVE YOU!

Argh. I'm hungry, I'm exhausted, I have a class to audit, homework to do, and posts to write.

I'm happy.

I need to take my medicine now.  But... wow.

Wow.

It just might work.

...It's one in a million... but it just might work.

Remind me to write that story. The story of the accident with the anteater and the old man.  And how, on the same morning in that one in a million other universes, an old man was strolling along after a nice breakfast and idly grabs an unlicensed thief for protective custody.

Also, granddaughter. Just 'cause it'd be adorable.

...Chamber choir. Also, I danced last night for... okay, the first time. And someone taught me how to. It was... odd. I think I'll like having, oh, GUYS AROUND. Who are talkable.

EDIT: So a friend of my host's is this really nice Puerto Rican heritage guy.  Real nice, honestly. They all are. But... Damn. The West side is a lot more party oriented and not with the working thing. I'm gonna check out the nerd-based East with Bettis after math.

I'm very tired.  Very, very tired.  I... sort of want to just curl up and go to sleep. But I'm more awake and happier now, so I think my meds must've kicked in.

Math, random stuff, music, east tour, dorm talks, and then... hmm. Either jazz concert or MTG singalong.  Maybe I can split the time... Or there's the Nerdy Music singalong. Heh. I may have to drop in on that one.

And then, I think... room, RP if there are people around to RP with, and then... sleep. Lotsa. Tomorrow's gonna be hectic.

I remember there was a song I couldn't remember the name of when I quoted a line from it, and I knew the line was a line from SOMEWHERE. It was Everything You Want, although I accidentally misquoted it a little.

Carrot? IS MY LIFE. I love him. And aaaah, Vimes/Sybil FTW. OTP. Really. Aaaaah.  Vimes is my HERO.

But Carrot? Would get homesick for the mines and would apparently sit in the cellar and hit himself over the head with an axe handle. *FACEPALM* Seriously, that boy has to have brain damage from hitting his head on the roof so often and knocking himself out. I love him so freaking much. My sweet little kingy boy.

In other news? I'm going to kill myself sometime soon, I think.  Maybe next week, if things don't shape up.

Bye for now.

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

"They think the sequence is, first object, then belief.  In fact, it works the other way.
Belief sloshes aound in the firmament like lumps of clay spiraling into a potter's wheel. That's how gods get created, for example.  They clearly must be created by their own believes, because a brief resume of the lives of most gods suggests that their origins certainly couldn't be divine."

I think the next sentence deserves including, too: "They tend to do exactly the things people would do if only they could, especially when it comes to nymphs, golden showers, and the smiting of your enemies."

The sad thing is, there were five books equally close, and I just grabbed one and came up with Reaper Man. It coulda been Sophie's World, Kafka, Waiting for Godot, or Men at Arms.  Or any one of about ten others... I have too many book lying on/around my bed.  Funny, though, that the book I picked up actually IS cool and intellectual, and possibly the most beautiful and philosophical of all the Discworld books. I mean, there are funnier or sweeter or even more enjoyable ones in the series, but... this one's my favorite. It's got beauty and grief of a kind unmatched, even in Soul Music.  After all... how often must Death learn to die?

That's why I love Sandman so much.  She understands that concept.  And why I love Discworld. He learns it.

...I'm listening for wings. 

EDIT: My father is bloody insane.

First of all? Should anyone get ahold of downloads of Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers seasons one and two--and possibly three, but that's a lot less important--please get it to me.  Immediately.  'Cause... eeeh, young Tommy Oliver.  ...Er. Basically, I had a young childhood crush on the White Ranger, and I distinctly remember when Kimberly Hart fainted just prior to his identity being revealed, and it was, like, the height of my childhood romance spree to think about Tommy/Kimberly.  And I wanted to be the White Ranger when I was ickle.  And I LOVED those episodes and could never find them. Please? Someone help me?

...Also, if Jenny were less callous and less... snarky, and Giles more competent, their early relationship would be vaguely reminiscent of Chris and Kim's.  And... okay, this is my periodic GILES IS LOVE squee.  Just... oh my god, I love him. So much. Aaaack. This has nothing to do with Cinaed. Really. Nothing at all. ....ILOVEHIM.

On to the point of all this.

I've been obsessed with death lately. I... I don't know why. I just am.  This is what Gaiman and Pratchett have done to me.  I can't stop thinking about it. It's not like I'm... suicidal, because I'm not. I love life.  I love it more than anything.  I don't want to give it up--I'll live forever or die trying, as Yossarian says.  I was... I opened Reaper Man.  Found the comment about the Morris dance, went looking for the one about the other Morris dance.  And... I think that's why.  Life and Death. The Ankh.  The Morris dance is danced on the first day of spring--a celebration of life.  And in the Ramtops, Pratchett says, they understand you need to dance the other Morris dance.  And it's why I'm thinking about it so much.  Because... you can't really love life and understand it if you don't love and understand death.  For the balance of things.

You've got to dance both, they say. Otherwise you can't dance either.

There are times I love being right about things.  Like, for instance, this morning, about that my math teacher is the coolest person in the world. *Snicker* A kid-friendly Dr. House, I swear.  That brilliant, and we had a HILARIOUS discussion about emotional problems--although the very idea of having a discussion with him about emotional problems is almost bizarre, but it happened and wasn't even... odd.  And I love him.  And he cracked up when I casually mentioned something I'd done. Cracked up and then told me he's done EXACTLY THE SAME THING.

God, how good do I feel with that?  *Snicker* He's amazing.  Really amazing.  And with my certain knowledge that mum would NOT be in the room she's subbing in at eight like she's supposed to be so I could pounce her and getting to sulk in a lovely, juvenile manner about it, and enjoying every minute.  There are times I love being right.  Like, for instance, this morning.

...Then there are the times I hate being right.  Like about the fact that I fail miserably at ever making friends, like when I realized that one of my best friends from middle school bores me now to the point that I didn't wait to say hi to her on the way to class like I usually do.  When I realized that... it wouldn't even hurt me to never hear from her again, 'cause she's boring as all hell.  Or like how I knew little miss bitch soprano had made it to the next round of Region, when she shouldn't and I hate her guts.  There are times I hate being right.

Like, for instance, this morning.

...No wonder I can't control my mood. I forgot my medicine. For the third day in a row.

I need to... stop caring about things.  About life.  It's never worth it, and it always just leaves me bleeding.  And I'm not letting the world bleed me dry.  But... how's it go?  "But we must care.  For if we do not care, we do not exist.  If we do not exist, then there is nothing but blind oblivion."

...Trust Pratchett to remind me why I can't close up.  *Sigh* What would I do without Pratchett and Gaiman?  Besides, you know, not have had the inspiration I did and the guidance and world view.  I really should have used that quote from Death on my senior page.

...But I suppose that Here And Now, You Are Alive suffices.

I stand by my motto: When in doubt, I am right--unless it's math, in which case Dr. Raulston is right, or physics, in which case Webassign wants to eat my soul (and I may STILL BE RIGHT GODSDAMMIT)--but when in doubt.... I am right.

Ye gods, I hate being right.

...I just realized that I made up my subject line.  *Blink* WTF. Where'd the poetry come from?

EDIT: *Wails* My computer won't be shipped until the 22nd! *Wibbleflailcrydead* Iwanmynewlaptop... mommeeee.

Also, d'you think if I offer up my firstborn child the English department would let me into the class I want?

Whee.

Lotsa fun with Tessa. Gave her an extra copy of Moving Pictures and she's currently reading Preludes and Nocturnes.  *Yawn* And I have shitty physics grade, which I knew about, but I didn't think it was that bad.  My teacher's also just an ass.  And... yeah. So much for getting to go to Columbia.  Fuck.

At least my math teacher's insanely proud of me.  Hah. Does he realize I never work?

I can actually sorta look like Death. It's awesome.

So... mixed feelings bout today.  But I'm also going to actually write today.  Write the first confrontation with the commanding officers, actually.  At least in part.  *Frowns*  I may change the order of a few things... I dunno. But probably that confrontation is the one that's going to happen.  *Noddle* And then I'll start exploring the past more.

Also working on quizthing for a character or two. It needed updating.

...Also, Dumbledore being gay is significantly boring as a topic.  I mean, there's no way it can be the chief topic of conversation at a four hour party.  And seriously, who gives a damn? Except stupid conservatives. *Shrug* I find it a boring subject.

 *Sighs* So.

Waiting on news from District choir auditions, even though I won't hear until Monday, probably... *Whimper* 

But also gotta write up a sample for my PPCing, and I even found a fic. Fairly mild, Discworld.  Possessed!Susan, depressed-wanting-to-die!Susan... already two minis I've found (I think they're... mini-Luggages?), Lobsang acting all out of character, Sam Jr. romance, Death randomly vanishing for twenty years... Susan!baby... etc.

*Sighs* So that'll happen.

In the mean time, I think I want to announce this: Joss Whedon needs to sue the Moonlighting people. Vampire who is a private investigator and falls in love with a human named Beth. Come on. I think she's even blonde. *Facepalm* Honestly...

*Sigh* And I think I'll start writing tonight.

Mavolio Blunt.

Okay, people, please respond to the previous post unless your name is Evie (THANK YOU EVIE) because I need people's answers, but... ah... yeah. This is mostly to say...

Mavolio Blunt.

Oh Pratchett. Malvolio is straight out of Shakespeare.  This says something about the character, doesn't it?

Catch-22 is fucking amazing. I love Yossarian. Only sane man left in an insane world.

I wanna go curl up with Sandman for a while.  But... I can't quite bring myself to.  Mostly 'cause I'd open Brief Lives, and I really don't want to go through the murder thing again.  Just... eck.

Dunno how this turned into such a fucking bad day.  Not like anything went wrong.

Got my Zelazny--damn that book's thick--and The Last Hero.  Hah.  The guy who drew the pictures made 'em all ugly. Which was sad, because people were ugly who Should Be Very Very Cute.  And Vimes was only a cameo.  ...And Angua wasn't in it at all that I recall from my quick flip-through, and I wanted a pretty picture.  Possibly snuggly.  'Cause I needed amusement.  Rincewind trying to talk to Carrot--or rather Carrot attempting to make conversation with Rincewind--is the most hilarious thing ever.  Rincewind's kinda like Yossarian that way--the sane one in a nutty, nutty world.  And hearing sanity talk to Carrot? Is bloody hilarious.  Sweet boy.

Also, Death hasa kitty.  And doesn't understand Quantum.

Also got Mirrormask and Neverwhere DVDs, and Neverwhere, Stardust, and American Gods books.  Just need Anansi Boys... Although frankly it weirds me out that the dedication (which is to the reader, whoever it is) "This one's for you.  With you know what, and you probaby know why." And then the opening lines of the book are: 

"It begins, as most things begin, with a song.
In the beginning, after all, were the words, and they came with a tune.  That was how the world was made, how the void was divided, how the lands and the stars and the dreams and the little gods and the animals, how all of them came into the world.
They were sung."

Then a little while later:

"Songs remain.  They last.  The right song can turn an emperor into a laughingstock, can bring down dynasties. A song can last long after the events and the people in it are dust and dreams and gone.  That's the power of songs."

And so the whole damn book is about songs. I think maybe the main character or two is/are singer(s)?

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

Yeah.  Exactly.

Swear to god I'm writing tonight. I'm sick of not having written.

...I wanna Morpheus.  And a Yossarian. ...And possibly a Lucifer, if he's the original version with blond hair and black wings and pretty face.  Someone else drew him ugly.  Black wings.  I liked that...