May 18, 2003 :: 3:10 p.m.
oh Harry, what a long list of special features you have...
Today? Has pretty much sucked. Yesterday was Adam and I's 30th "monthiversary," meaning that we've been together for 2 1/2 years (plus one day, now). We went to the planetarium at the state museum, which was cool. Cooler than usual, even, because we were the only people there. At the planetarium show, I mean, not in the entire museum. But it was neat - a private show of sorts. He got me
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets on DVD, much to my surprise. I wasn't expecting anything, due to lack of fundage all around. We're both pretty poor, you see. It's no fun. But we manage, somehow.
We went out to dinner, as planned, and it made him really sick - that part wasn't planned. I sort of dragged him around to bookstores and such in the evening, which he agreed to even though I sort of knew he would rather have been sleeping. He stayed over here last night; I woke up from a really horrible dream around 5 o' clock in the morning, crying like someone was killing kittens in front of me. I woke him up, too, obviously, and we both had a bit of trouble getting back to sleep afterward. He didn't feel any better today, so, after a thwarted attempt to purchase a pair of size 10 knitting needles, I dropped him off at home with instructions to make tea and take medicine and rest. He's supposed to call me in a bit, hopefully in more chipper spirits.
But seriously, the dream I had last night? Terrifying. And it's not an unusual occurrence, either. I have them all the time. Everyone tries to play the paranoia card when I start talking about relationship fears - hell, even I do. But if everyone had the kind of dreams that I have about my relationship on a regular basis, they'd be fucking paranoid too. I must have a really twisted, masochistic subconscious. That's all I can say.
I took an oh-so-fun online quiz that purported to tell me which level of Dante's hell I belong in. The verdict: 7th. "The violent, the assassins, the tyrants, the war-mongers, those who commit suicide, those who commit violence against god and nature, blasphemers, sodomites, and usurers, who follow neither nature nor art, share company in the Seventh Level." That's sort of paraphrased, but you get the picture. Most of it fits... violent, totally willing to be an assassin if the money is good, blasphemer (like, oh my god!), big with the suicidal thoughts, guilty of sodomy (mmm, oral sex), and unsure of religious inclination (if any). Oh yeah, if there's a hell? I'm probably going to it.
I am becoming more and more annoyed with my dog. I love dogs, I think they're great, but the more I have to take care of one, the more I'm thoroughly convinced that I don't want one of my own. So when I can have pets, it'll be cats all the way. Horses, llamas, alpacas, goats, sheep? Fine. But very probably no dog, unless someone wants to throw a fully-trained Newfoundland my way.
Anyway, Harry Potter's special features (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) are calling me. And since my 'slower than me running the mile in gym class' computer finally finished downloading the componenets necessary to view the DVD-ROM features, I can actually watch them. I'll update later if anything of interest happens, like a nuclear weapons test in my backyard or something. 'Til then - cheers.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005