Month: November 2002

I earlier suggested that the Theme of the Day was revolution. I was wrong. The theme is most indubitably Night Watch. My parents went to a concert this evening, and two of the last three pieces were entitled “Nachtwache”, German for “Night Watch”. It’s enough to make a person paranoid.

Oh — and today, I found out that my friend Eugene (Conjur Man) from “Dark of the Moon” is a Pratchett fan, as well. He’s only read the Rincewind books, Mort, and Thief of Time, though, so I’ve taken it upon myself to warp him further. Perhaps if I keep him occupied with Pratchett books, he’ll stop trying to steal my G.I.R. shoelaces. Anyway, we decorated out Conjur Cave (our name for the Conjur Woman’s cave, which he insists belongs to both of us) with my printout of the Night Watch UK cover, and we have resolved to get a lawn flamingo. Good times.

Interesting. It appears my blog has temporarily kicked the bucket. It’ll be back soon, though, I’m sure. Actually, the mere fact that you are reading this most likely indicates that my blog has been restored.

I wonder what metaphor you would use for temporarily kicking the bucket. Maybe like one of those clown toys with the weighted base, so that when you push them over, they immediately pop back up again. You could kick that, and it would immediately return upright. Yeah, that works.

I think this is my brain’s way of telling me to forget my hundred-some pages of “Mill on the Floss” and get some sleep.

You have no idea how gratifying it is to see a LJ-cut entitled “Queen Priscilla and the Mighty Fruitbats of Doom”. I am filled with glee, yet at the time of this posting, I haven’t even read the entry.

There will now be a brief intermission.

::you are entertained::

Rebecca M. makes me happy. Why she chose my name, I do not know. But I feel somehow complete.

What ho! The plot of “How the Moon Began”! Finally, you’ll be able to understand my weird Photography!

Every time I think it’s not possible to love Monica any more than I already do, she proves me wrong.

Priscilla’s Mental Tangent:

Ever get that feeling when you’re aware and awake, but only just? You’re functioning, but you’re in such a fog that you really can’t be bothered to have an IQ larger than your shoe size? This happens to me rather often in my Studio Art class. It’s happened the past three or four lessons, and it happened again today. We were working on a design project, in which we take a few pieces from our dozens of smaller design assignments and try to fuse them into a huge design image. We had each scattered our miniature design assignments around on the floor so that we could begin to synthesize the ideas. I smiled when I saw my whale.

Now, the whale needs some explanation.

He was born a few class periods ago, when we were cutting up construction paper to make images that represented simplicity, excitement, tranquility, and chaos. I picked up a scrap piece of paper and there he was. He was such a wonderful whale, this scrap piece of paper. He was my friend. Just looking at him made me happy. I saved him and pasted him on a seperate piece of paper and kept him with my other design mini-assignments.

And there he was, waiting patiently in my sea of images, ready to be used in my project if I needed him. I slowly circled the pile, looking for ways for my shapes and contours and lines to fuse together into a legitimate design. But as my eyes travelled back over my whale, I felt not happiness but horror. I audibly gasped, making a couple of my classmates turn around to see what was the matter.

“My whale!” I wailed, “Upside-down! It looks like a snake head! And it’s laughing at me!”

Yes, indeed. It was laughing at me. It’s huge, innocent eye was now wide and menacing. It’s amusingly bent tail was now a vicious, gaping jaw. No question about it, it was evil. My whale had been tainted. I felt crushed.

This must be what it’s like to be Delirium, I thought to myself. Earlier, in the car, I had remarked to Mimi my feelings of what a surprising word “Suburban” is. It’s like popcorn and bubbles, swimming in hot fudge. I felt the urge to make butterflies. I think I’ll be Delirium for Halloween next year.

I’m still upset about my whale.

Lent Night Watch to Eunice. Feel somehow empty. Also want to draw fanart scenes, but fear spoilering. Bah.

Remember, remember

the fifth of November

gunpowder, treason and plot.

I see no reason

why gunpowder treason

should ever be forgot.

Happy Guy Fawkes Day!

Sidenote: I find this rather worrisome. I celebrate Guy Fawkes Day, finish Night Watch, and start Les Miserables all on the same day. Vive La Revolution! Truth! Justice! Freedom! And a Hard-boiled egg!

Priscilla posts more How the Moon Began photos. Care to see them?

Wow, this is certainly an exercise in self-control. I read half of Night Watch, and I’m saving the other half for tomorrow. (…) Wait a second. That’s what I was planning to do until I wrote it down, but then I remembered that tomorrow I have both Dark of the Moon and Dido and Aeneas rehearsals (meaning that I don’t get out until 8), and I have over 100 pages of Mill on the Floss to read for Wednesday. Decisions, decisions. Maybe I’ll read a bit more of Night Watch tonight to make up for tomorrow, then finish it Wednesday. That works. ::nods:: Yes. Now back to Vimes.

I love Vimes. I. Love. Vimes. Night Watch brings prodding buttock to a new level.