Lunatics and Princesses

Also.

Quinn and I have decided to take a break from our relationship for a little while. This is a mutual decision and can really only result in good thing for both parties.

Still one of the most gut-wrenching drives of my life, though.

It's very strange being back to vaguely single again

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I'm really fucking tired. Got up at 4:45 yesterday to catch the bus to work, where I hot glued boxes from 7 AM to 4:30 PM. As a result, I can barely move my hands or hold on to things. Christie and Quinn picked me up, and after a while and a game of Magic in which I got my ass beat severe, we went over to Marcellus to get Quinn's stuff.

Six boxes, one giant TV, three people, and a lightsaber. In a Jetta. In the rain. I'm not entirely sure how we did it, but we did. It all went pretty smoothly, except when the giant box Christie and I were carrying bottomed out, dropping video games and Yugioh cards all over the parking lot.

Then we got food and watched some really bad hentai. Slave Doll is really kind of ridiculous, but it's really funny to watch. All this chick does is give blowjobs- there's no actual sex until the end, when she magically grows a penis and fucks another android-girl.

Well, yay for porn, at any rate. And lots of lovely warm blankets. And yay for Christie, who gets up earlier than she has to to get us to class on time. Lovely lovely Christie- I already promised to be her sex slave; I don't know what else I can do for her except to make her cookies or something.

Also got into a fight over whose property I am; Christie's or Quinn's. 'Twas very amusing and fun and Quinn showed everyone the biting thing he does that's beyond belief insane.

Homicide class was all cutting and stabbing wounds today.

I need to track down some food or I'm gonna die.

I so did absolutely nothing over the weekend.

Mostly this was because I spent the time in Benadryl-induced sleep, but it was also because Dad wasn't around so we could all relax.

I watched three hours of cooking shows on PBS on Saturday. Then I watched Nature and a travelogue on Switzerland last night. So now I can tell you all about what kind of wine goes with biscotti, how to make a basalmic reduction glaze for squash, how to grill a $200 beef tenderloin so it isn't fucked up and horrible, brazil nut trees, how everything in the Amazon rainforest is custom designed to kill you, chicken eating spiders, and Interlaken, which has the only steam train that goes up a mountain in Switzerland.

I've been really restless the past couple of weeks. I think it's starting to get on Quinn's nerves. I keep telling him that I'm going to drop out of school and go run away with the Gypsies, or I'm going to graduate in June but after that I'm going to head east and not stop until I find myself in New York again. I told him he could come if he wants to, but he doesn't seem to be interested. He also told me I wasn't allowed to go, and if he went anywhere, it would be to track my ass down and haul me back by my hair if he had to.

Obviously he has no idea what he's dealing with. An around-the-world chase thing intrigues me. I would leave him great clues.

OMG. It would be like Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, except it would be Where in the World is Feather! Quinn could chase me around and Rockapella could do the soundtrack.

I tried to reason with him, telling him that it would be like Indian Jones at least some of the time. Maybe telling him that I would be Indiana and he would be Markus/Short Round/Elsa the Nazi-in-disguise/Sala was a step backwards.

Today he accused me of being confusing. I accused him of not being on my train of thought track.

"You mean tracking your train of thought?"
"Yep, that would be it. It's hard to follow. It zigzags."
"It also randomly flies off the tracks and floats in other directions."
"It's a magnet train. A bullet train. Honey, it could be like The Mummy! We could wake up a dead high priest and then put him back again!!!"
"...In Switzerland?"
"No. In Egypt, dur. And we can ride ponies in Mongolia."
"Aren't the ponies there the size of trucks, or something?"
"Pssh, no! They're like, small. We might have to get regular horses for the steppes."
"Which would make them the size of-"
"ELEPHANTS! Which is a great idea! We can ride them across the Alps, like Hannibal! I bet no one's done that in years!"

Whereupon he told me that it just wasn't practical. When did he become the practical one, I asked him. You buy a lightsaber and forget to eat. You're everything but practical.

This whole thing boils down to "I want to go and have adventures" and "he wants to stay and make video games."

Of course, he's already been like, fucking everywhere. His mom took him all over the US and Europe when he was little.

Thinking about all that kind of stuff last night opened to the door to major angst (again.) I wonder why TPTB made me an insanely jealous and competitive person, seriously. That kind of shit only leads to unhappiness.

Hmm. This has the potential to get kind of nasty. Worrying thought.

Except it doesn't at all, really. I guess I just want too much.

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It's all ups and downs. Got a 96 on my psychology test. We did the photography lab in criminalistics today, or the first part of it. I took a picture of my shoe and a storm drain, for lack of better material. insaneartgurl brought Dylan to school today, and everyone loves him.

Took an anthropology test, and then spent the rest of the afternoon trussed up in a sari and purple fairy wings, pretending to be an angel gazing adoringly at a goth Mary and a kid Jesus with a fever. Then I got to wave a glittery piece of fabric around. This was all for Lisha's photo project; I'll post the pictures here when I get them. Even talked her into letting neko_quinn be in a couple of frames, although she specified that he had to have his shirt off for them. Alas for me, she said he could leave his undershirt on. Thankfully I got some shirtless Quinn a little later, when I made him switch undershirts with me because his was nicer.

Bus, diner, fries, Quinn gnawed on my head, Dylan is cute and sleepy, let's bounce, sad panda face, cookie, bus, and here I am.

Dad walked in a little while ago, screaming about how there was no chicken-

(Um, hello. No one told me it was there- don't blame me because dinner isn't ready currently)

and screaming about his brother-

(Who had a stroke today and probably won't make it through the night)

and blah blah woof woof... the rest was the usual rant. Of course, he wants me to pick up Mom, who gets off of work at nine but doesn't get out of the fucking building until almost 9:30. Told him (after a rant that included the "you're not allowed to watch your favorite show... EVER!!!" at my sister) that CSI was new tonight. Also told him that I'd go but someone would have to tape it for me. Predictably, he pulled the martyr act and said to forget it.

Once upon a time, when he went into his rants, I would get angry right back at him, or be scared of him. Now, it all just makes me kind of tired and sad. My dad needs some serious help. He's carrying all of this incredibly deep-seated anger at [whatever] around, and he takes it all out on us. At this point in my life, I seem to have come to the mentality that runs along the lines of, "Look. This is your life. Your life, not mine. I'm not responsible for you choosing the actions that lead you to this point. You knew what the outcome had a chance of being, and you walked down that path anyway. Deal. Everyone else has to- stop blaming the rest of us for your shitty run of luck."

He was furious with me last year for pushing to register RIGHT NOW DAMMIT at OCC. Absolutely furious. I'm glad I've made the descisions I did, even if he views it as some sort of ungrateful personal betrayal. I saw where I was going to wind up, and I worked to change that outcome. Never regret, never look back.

Now I'm just kind of tired and apathetic, and all I want to do is go to sleep.

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This indecisiveness has got to stop, I swear to god. I get someone to make me a different header, and then, I change my mind the minute I see some of Northern Ballet Theater's photos. Then I decide that they could lead but nothing but trouble on my part (read: talking Quinn into taking ballet with me to act out some strange psuedo-pas-de-deux-from-Dracula fantasy) and decide that I'm happy with what I requested in the first place.

Discussed my fears concerning Quinn's hippocampus in the diner today. I think I'd freak out if he lost his short term memory and turned into the guy from Memento, or that musician guy we watched on a video in psych class. Also discussed crying on the bus in relation to these [paranoid] fears. Mainly, everyone just looked at me funny. Nothing new there.

Went to SI for the West Brighton Reunion over the weekend. The whole thing was kind of 'eh' until James and Aunt Sean showed up. Then James and I got kind of tipsy. I say "kind of"... I was still able to walk, but that was about it. Three White Russians can do that to you, but it made not knowing anyone there a little bit easier to deal with, so who cares? Never mind that I wound up going to bed at like, eight o'clock.

It was cool meeting all the people I've heard about over the years, though. Finally met the infamous Dave Johansen, who played the Ghost of Christmas Past in Scrooged and sang on SNL with Sigourney Weaver or something. He was there with Mara, who he may or may not be married to and who may or may not be Steven Tyler's ex-wife.

But if she is Steven Tyler's ex-wife... then HA HA HA!!! I CAN KICK ALL YOUR ASSES AT SIX DEGREES OF LOTR!!!

I won an alarm clock as a door prize.

I also looked through old pictures of my mother and aunt's trip to Europe. My mom and her sisters were sexy as fucking hell. Holy shit, like OMG whoa- I bet if I showed those pictures to people, they'd be like, dude. Those chicks are hot.

We stayed at Uncle Mike's this time, instead of Jersey, like we usually do. I love Jersey and everything, but I liked visiting Uncle Mike and Aunt Rhonda and the boys. I hardly ever get to see them. Daniel and Connor are crazed monkeys and I absolutely love them. Especially Connor, even if he did keep trying to use my shirt as a Kleenex. Uncle Mike talked me into giving the dog a bath, too, which he caught on camera. One for the vaults, I suppose.

Then yesterday I got the car! I went to Quinn's! It was great and then it was weird because it was like WHOA Cartoon Network is FUCKED UP and messes my brain around. Then it was, meh, hungry... so I was like, I know so I brought food so let's go out to the car and get it, and then everything was GREAT and then it was kind of, "Dammit." And then it was magically great again. Great! Wonderful! Hurrah!

Upshot of this: I have a new favorite song.

Then I made soup and couscous. Talked Quinn into eating the couscous- he didn't want to because it reminded him of grits. Replied that it was, in fact, not grits, but Middle Eastern tiny pasta bits, and he didn't have to eat if if he didn't like it. Then he ate it and ate the leftovers today at school OMG.

Next I have to get him to try caviar.

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I've got about three yards of a very pretty toile. I'm thinking about making a corset with it. Yay for corsets!

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First:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEV-KUN!!!!!!!!!

Second:

Last night- after everything got straightened out, after I cooked a pork roast and watched Keeping Up Appearances on PBS- I met Quinn at the mall and we went and saw The Excorcism of Emily Rose. Good movie, with some scary bits, although the whole thing might have been more effective it the rest of the damn theater would have shut the fuck up. Seriously- what about this movie prompted almost everyone to talk during it?

I had parked in the Borders lot, and by the time the movie let out, Borders was closed. We had to walk around the end of the mall to get there; for some reason, this whole trek-through-the-scary-abandoned-parking-lot thing always happens after scary movies, just when you don't want to be passing lonely docking bays and frightening dumpsters. Now, not only are zombies, aliens, and water ghosts out to get us, they're all possessed by demonic forces.

Anyway. I dropped Quinn off at his house and was leaving around two or so, after he fell asleep. I'm fiddling with getting the key in the lock of the car door and happen to glance up at the sky, which is really starry because he lives out in Bumfuck.

Lo and behold, the sky is all lit up and glowing! It's glowing green, which should have been my first clue, but I ran down the check list of what it couldn't be in my head first.

Is the sun coming up?
Not from that direction, it ain't.

Is the Fair still going on?
Nope.

Are there any large cities in the north that I might have missed at some point?
Don't think so.

OMFG! NORTHERN LIGHTS!!!

So I ran tearing back into the house, up the stairs, and barged into Quinn's room. Then I jumped on the bed and shook him awake.

"Quinn, Quinn! Wake up! You have to come see this, it's the Northern Lights!"

"Huh? What? What? What life- where? Who's alive?!?!" He sat straight up and looked around, his eyes still half closed, looking like he thought the roof was going to cave in on him or something. Bah, said I, and dragged him out to the driveway in his underwear- never mind that it was about forty-five degrees out.

Quinn agreed that it was very pretty and cool and wonderful, but he left for a few minutes to go get some clothes on. ("I'm in my underwear. The neighbors can see me. I'm freezing!") Then he got his sister and his mom, and we stood out on the back deck watching it for about twenty minutes. It was incredible; these green ribbons of light pulsating and waving across a beautiful starry sky. Definitely my version of romantic.

("OMG! THERE ARE WEIRD GREEN LIGHTS PULSING IN THE SKY! KISS ME!")

And then this morning, I told Quinn all about the contents of my Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers book. Heart the fact that he doesn't get squicked by my strange choices for topics of conversation- although he did get hung up on the Mellified Man thing.

Spent the rest of the day in bed, sick with a stomach virus.

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The new baby elephant that was born at our zoo last Friday died the day before yesterday. It was an accident- he fell into the pool and the other elephants pushed him into the deep end by accident. After getting water in his lungs, he died a few hours later.

This was obviously an accident- so of course PETA gets its panties in a twist about it.

Sorry. I really can't stand PETA. Don't get me wrong; I'm all for animal rights and am totally against animal violence or mistreatment. But come on. "We want an investigation into this!" cries PETA. "Yeeeeeah, whatever, chill," replies the zoo. "We totally signed up for one before you said a damn word. Bitches."

Gah. The baby elephant was just the cutest thing on the whole planet, so we're all kind of upset that he died. Verily, it doth sucketh. Whatever else I dislike about CNY, I dig the elephants. We've got a really good zoo with a world-famous breeding program here. Because James and Nana were up yesterday, we were supposed to go see him, but... well, my sympathies to everyone at the zoo.

Meanwhile, back at the farm...

James, Nana, Mom, and Kelsey have flown away to New Jersey until next Sunday. It's not good, it's not bad- the only downside is that I'm going to have to cook dinner every day, which kind of blows. However, the positive responses to the "can-I-have-the-car" question stand to go up exponentially.

This means that maybe, just maybe, Quinn will stop making Sad Panda noises at me.

Except he won't, because I have to work on Monday instead of hanging out with him like we planned. I suppose that I will just have to explain to him that I need the money and brace for more Sad Panda-ness.

...

Oooh. I went and had blood drawn today, so they can test it and tell me all of the terrible diseases and problems I've got.

Oswego is a nice sort of town, except for, ya know, the three nuclear power plants and the subzero winters.

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Sometimes worth a thousand words. Sometimes, worth only a few. Namely, "OMFGHOTNESS!!!!ELEVEN!11!"

Oooh... operaness.



( And then there was Quinn, who moonlights as a tuxedo model )

Today, there was canoeing through goo.






Sadly, there is no photographic evidence of Quinn capsizing the kayak. Nor are there pictures of his repeated-- and failed-- attempts to get back into it. No pictures of MerQuinn covered in seaweed, either. However, the whole thing was caught on video by his mom, so one of these days I'll try to post it in video form. How well that will work with my lack of technological skills, I have no idea.

I'm too tired to write about anything else from this weekend at this point... maybe later.

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For instance, I was supposed to be vaccuuming the office yesterday, but wound up showing John (my boss) Rotten.com and talking him into buying a demotivator poster from despair.com for another coworker. So as we're standing around looking at pictures of naked!Ahnold and various gruesome crime scene photos, Dad walks in.

John tells him that he doesn't really approve of Quinn (or specifically, his ponytail) but that Quinn's mother is pretty hot. We spent the next hour and a half talking about how Quinn's mother is hot, how my mother kills people when she's mad, convents and how I almost wind up in them, and my work schedule.

Later that night, I tried to explain some quantum physics stuff to Quinn and he actually listened to me. I don't know how much he actually grasped, but he listened, and it was just a cool conversation. Started out somewhere in the realm of cats in boxes (which everyone knows is a favorite theory of mine, thank you Mark Wilson, wherever you are) and ended up on The Last Samurai and perfect cherry blossoms. Kind of.

My character actually did things in game last night, in a peripheral sort of way, but the part where it got really odd was the whole OOC ride home thing. Tim didn't know what he was doing after game and didn't want to go all the way out to B'ville, and Jeremy was going to B'ville but he was leaving like RIGHT NOW, so Quinn called his mom and asked if I could stay over there.

She said yes, but on one condition. We could have sex, but we couldn't wake up in the same bed.

Now, this leaves me with a giant WTF? in a thought bubble over my head. Sex= okay, but sleep= OMGDOOM. Which kind of negates the whole thing, since we were both exhausted and nothing would have been going on anyway.

Wound up getting a ride home with Tim anyway, since everyone decided to call game relatively early and not do anything after. So, yay for avoiding potentially awkward situations.

And my parents are SO happy with the "I decided to come home vs. going home with Quinn" turn of events that they're practically dancing. Well, my dad is, anyway.

Bah. It's not like I was giving up on him or anything, it was just the ride schematics that were in question. Plus there's only two B'ville buses on Saturday, and I didn't know when they were.

Still trying to get the car for today/tonight, though. Dad is working today, tomorrow, and Monday, so I don't know how it's going to work logically, but I told him about how Manda is on bed rest and bored and he sympathizes. And they are inducing labor on Monday OMG!!!! BABY!!!! So I told him how I should really spend some time with my Baby Momma, cause that's my job and all.

I love surreality. Everything's so chill, but still off the wall. This is probably what some drugs are like.

OMG, though- Quinn gave me a present the other night, and I didn't stop squeeing until, like, just now, that is to say, page 457 of HP: Half Blood Prince.

Heart him to just little pieces. Not that I didn't before, but... you know. It's HBP, dude. Now I don't have to wait for 184 other people on the library wait list to finish it first. Thank you to Manda for planning to let me borrow it, though.

So, this weekend:

~ Hanging out with Daniel= cool
~ Manda's baby shower= cool
~ Quinn= squeeing= video games= Denny's= cool

~ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory= OMGWTFBBQ!?!?!?!? + startling revelations as to Quinn's demeanor + weird giggle laugh= holy shit. I am dating Willy Wonka. Just without the stupid haircut and flamboyant clothes (at this point, anyway.)

*headdesk*

Why does the guy I fall for have one of the strangest, most disturbing characters from one of my most hated movies as a father figure/role model?

'Tis quite creepy at times. Oh, if you want to see what I mean, go watch that movie with him. OMG.

*head* Why *desk* God *head* why *desk* do *head* I *desk* love *head* him *desk* so *head* damn *desk* much?

Cause you know, I really can't help myself. If God is laughing at me, then I'm going to track him down and smack him. They say that God is in everything. Even mailboxes and such. I think I'll go beat up a mailbox.

...

So Dad says that if I don't move out, he'll get me a car, pay for insurance/gas/blah blah, and buy me a building as a graduation present. Businesses on the first floor, apartments on the second, and My Very Own Loft on the top. Tempting, so very tempting, but probably unlikely.

I think I should hold out for three or four kimono from Ichiroya instead. With accessories. Muah ha ha.

Seriously, though, I don't know where I am with this whole apartment thing. This is the pits.

I should probably go get dressed and make my lunch now or something.

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