In sync with a novel written by a single people.

I am feeling random, giddy, itchy. But not ivy itchy. Mosquito itchy. Same itch, different though in that this itch lasts 2 days and can be soothed using tea tree oil.

My hands are still rather garish with interesting remnants, but the ivy fled when I washed my sheets and blanket.

I took a bath with minnows. Well. I was in my speedo bathing suit sitting with the minnows. Adorable little sweeties. It did hurt when they nipped at my more tender wounds, but only the tiniest amount. I pulled some of the moss from the top of the mini-waterfall for them, they were all happy. I also watched the little honey bees...

Woo. An hour after I typed that I'm back.

So I've been watching the Colbert Report recently. I donated $5. If my name shows up, I'm gonna feel pretty epic.

Been talking with a celebrity. It's pretty cool. He's not a tv celebrity, but a lot of people know him and those who know him, love him. I doubt he or his friends see themselves as celebrities. But as I learned, a celebrity is simply someone a lot of people know.

I have to respect celebrities that don't think overly highly of themselves. Austin, on one hand, would never see a word I would say. Comments to him are like...like cigarette butts in the grass. He knows they're there but doesn't do anything about them. I dunno. Not that he dislikes us, he just...well. It's discouraging to like someone and have no chance to ever speak to them.

Now Con, is actually mature enough to respond to those who inquire about things. Jhonen Vasquez, unfortunately, though the most epic comic creator in the world...does not raise kind fans and does not care that he has them or that some of them might be worth his time.

I spoke to Wendy Orr once. Just once; not a conversation, just a Tweet she answered. Another time, Lambert tweeted at the exact time for him to have seen and responded to my Tweet to him. It's a nice feeling. It's human.

I'm...woah, random. I need to dust my toybox. ANYHOW.

I need to figure out what to do. First thing first, I need a car. Then a roommate. THEN I can look at colleges and another job. My boss loves me and likely will be a great reference. I mean...I have never told a lie to her. I've actually told her too many truths for my own good :P My mom and dad always said how I'd fail with a job because of this and that. But I knew I could do it. I do my job well and honestly, and I work together with others well and tolerate the rest. I have the mostly overly-kind voice towards customers ever. Too saccharine. But in a way so that the customer doesn't anger. ...though one flipped me off once. I lol'd.

Still thinking I'm manic or mixed manic. Maybe manic because pms would explain the mixed. I feel inspired again, and as you can see my mind flits right now like a moth around a light source.

I still need a singing date with Dale, god damnit. And God is one fucked up being. Still no mention of heaven or hell. Still no mention of missionaries of converting. No one has been spared so far, or at least, VERY VERY VERY few. Just...with the amount of people that have read the Bible, I'd think I'd have heard more about how he killed every nation that got in his way and just...there is a lot of the Bible that no one seems to "remember" or take in.

If you're confused, I've been reading the Bible. So yeah. My book report so far might be a bash. xD

Sigh. It's odd that I have somewhat befriended openly racist people. And that our common enemy has beliefs much closer to my own. But whatever. Life is freedom of choice. So long as they do not act on their beliefs to violate the choice of others, I shall not pay them mind.

I mean...racism, sadly...isn't a choice. :/

That's like saying the kettle chose to be a kettle, the pot a pot. Once the brain is molded, it can be altered, but it always will 'have been'.

I need a good microphone. I really do. And someone to help me with Audacity...

I'm tired of singing Die Nachtigall to an audience of none. To felines who do not hear lullabies.

I wish I could be discovered.

I can act. I can sing. I can model and think and be so much...I am an empath and adore the world of the doctoral sciences. No one will ever notice me.

The only way I'd make it on idol would be if I used my mom's story. I don't want to have to use my past as a stepping stone into a singing career. Fucking attention hogs...

I just want to be remembered, like how I remember Dorothy Parker...

As someone who was worth memories.