The Sun Will Set For You
The title’s from Shadows of the Day, by Linkin Park. Right now, I’m supposed to be writing a critique of The Old Demon (which is really a good short story, though I’d appreciate it a lot more if I didn’t have to analyze it). But instead, I’m listening to a YouTube Music Video Playlist© which I made during my last break and blogging. I’ve got procrastinating down to an art.
I love my playlist, though. Since I own a grand total of 3 of the songs in my 27 song list, this is the only way to make playlists of music I like. Since most of my friends who I get music from don’t have the same taste at all (my mp3, which has every song I own, is loaded with Hilary Duff, Aly and AJ, and Hanna Montana. That groan you just heard – it was me) I use Pandora (coolest site ever, by the way – though their darned music licenses don’t let them operate out of the US. Nothing’s perfect.) or my YouTube Music Video Playlists©.
And yeah, I’m kinda being inspired by Audrey, Wait! which isn’t bad for average teen fiction. Getting me in a musical mood is great, and Green Day is a definite plus, but it’s not the best book I’ve ever read. For all the hype on book blogs I’m hearing about it, it’s a bit disappointing, actually.
But hey. It’s procrastinating material. That’s good with me. And it’s not, “My Boyfriend Summer,” or “Broom Cupboards,” (reading too much fanfiction) or, “The Clique From Hell.”
Actually, that’s a cool title. I now officially copyright it. It could be about demons, or – get this – vampires. That’d sell. Vampires are the new thing at the moment (stupid romantic ones, though, which stinks. Lots of poorly written Edward Cullens filling the world. Murder me, Harry) and every other book is about them. It’s actually sorta freaky.
Personally? The only vampire books I like were written before Twilight reared its bloodless head – Dracula and Companions of the Night. No romance in sight.
By the way, Charlie Eppes, you’re a machine that turns my brain into mathematical
mush. I spent the entire afternoon doing algebra and ignoring the essay I’m currently avoiding – which is severely abnormal. You and your brother are eating my life. I don’t think this relationship is going to work out. I’m breaking up with you, Numb3rs. At least until after school ends.
It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry. Don’t name a theory after me.
I’m just stalling now. Shutting up and working.
~DreamingOfNothing
i could be rich like a wandering gypsy
i could be poor like a fat wallet lost
i could be the first man or I could come last
it’s not who breaks the ribbon it’s how you get across.
Challenges. Great challenges await.
After watching a beautifully HD version of Traffic today, (Yes, Blindingly Articulate, I hear your groan. If you think this is bad, wait until September. Instead of Still Trying To Dream, I should call this blog Still in Numb3rs Withdrawal Therapy. Or something like that) I was blathering about it to one of my other friends (Who’s heading off to college in a few months! *Moment of sadness*) – who neither watches the show nor cares much about what I had to say about the matter, was willing to listen to me chatter. And then, since today (and Numb3rs) is into randomness (which was the main point of this week’s rerun) she said, “Send me a link to an episode, and maybe I’ll try it.”
*DreamingOfNothing tries hard not to let her shriek escape her throat, because then her family (downstairs watching Cat from Outer Space) might hear her, and she doesn’t want that*
So now the challenge is on. I have to find an episode that will work, since she’s the most critical person I know and I’m seriously worried. As brilliant as Traffic was today, Charlie was a total jerk for half of it, (which really stunk, because he’s the whole point) and if you don’t know him, you’d just think he’s a Smarter Than Thou Genius who sneers at the plebians and lives with a condescending tone.
Okay, so he is condescending on occasion. *Pause as DreamingOfNothing searches for a video clip to illustrate her point – specifically looking for the scene in Mind Games when he tells the psychic that said psychic is delusional in what he obviously thinks is a very nice, sensitive way to say it – but fails miserably and gives up* But it’s not his fault – it really isn’t. As I have previously stated, he thinks he’s being nice. And he’s really trying. But if it sounds like he’s talking down to someone, it’s because he is. It’s not his fault that not everyone can function at his level.
I’m stressing far too much about this. Shutting up. I’m going to talk about something else.
*Long pause*
What about this picture seems familiar? *DreamingOfNothing squashes the memory of Charlie and Amita trying to talk about something other than math and failing miserably, not because it’s not applicable to her situation but because she’s too obsessed and needs to talk about something else*
I’m reading Audrey, Wait! and it’s not actually that bad. It’s no Book Thief, but it’s certainly preferable to Kaplan’s Guide to Acing the SAT. (Kaplan had better know what he’s talking about is all I have to say. Otherwise I’ll look lamer than I already will). So I think it might work out. Plus, any book that contains Green Day has points in my book.
*DreamingOfNothing remembers that Jay-Z was also in the book, and squashes the Numb3rs reference to Jay-Z*
What is wrong with me?
“Zebra” by John Butler (whose lyrics are at the beginning of the post) is flicking its way through my brain right now, playing for its appearance in Traffic reasons I will not go into and it’s kinda getting obnoxious. *Switches to Jesus of Suburbia – which, as she forgot to mention, is by Green Day – and sighs happily*
Homework to do. Life to live. Tests to study for and essays to write. (Two, to be exact: A critique of some short story about a Chinese lady and a dam, and a history report on Elijah. Joy to the world.)
And Blindingly Articulate, it says City of the Dead. In the hole of lyric you were missing in your comment, I mean. It sounds like it should be the sequel to City of Ashes, doesn’t it?
OMG did all ya’ll City of Bones/Ashes fans hear that the first chapter of City of Glass is up? *Shriek of excitement* It’s been up for ages, but I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet. So there – mentioned. And I’ve got to go to bed. I have talked for a relatively long time without speaking of Show-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named, and I am darn proud of myself. *Applause*
There it is.
“I don’t care if you don’t
I don’t care if you don’t
I don’t care if you don’t care!”
Green Day is just so angry, most of the time. It’s a great outlet, personally. And as an added bonus – I don’t have Angel still stuck in my head. That was driving me up a wall, and I was willing to lead the vengeful angels to Within Temptation’s door. But until I get sick of this song (which should be some time, since it’s so long and it’s amazing) this will be my new soundtrack. Probably. That’s what’s been happening recently, anyway. One song playing non-stop in my brain for days, until I know I’ll end up like Larry go crazy and I start playing a different one.
Oh. There’s my midnight cutoff in about a second. G’night.
~DreamingOfNothing
The Center of the Earth is the End of the World
.
Larry: Children are wormholes.
Amita: Wormholes?
Larry: Yes. They’re portals into the unreachable future and unattainable past.
Sorry. I just figured that while I was on a Larry character run I might as well put that in, especially since I watched Sniper Zero again today (which this quote is from, by the way). For some reason, I never tire of seeing Charlie shot at. It’s blindingly ironic, since he is my favorite character – but seeing how I treat my favorite characters, I guess he’s getting off lucky. He’s actually my only favorite character that has a significant fanbase who isn’t dead. (Meaning he’s competing with Sirius and Remus, because unfortunately, City of Bones/Ashes and anything by Markus Zusak and Artemis Fowl don’t have what I’d call significant fanbases. Though they should. They’re all incredible books. Oh, and The Basic Eight. Which I don’t really think anyone’s heard of, let alone read.)
Sorry. Tangent. I’m now listening to Jesus of Suburbia (which I know you just mentioned in your post, Blindingly Articulate, but I have a good reason to speak about it) because it was quoted in my book. Audrey, Wait! (on which I haven’t progressed past the first page), has neat song quotes on all of the chapter titles. Which is why I haven’t gotten past the first page. Anyway, when I saw the song quotes I wanted to see if they had any from any songs I knew and lo and behold on chapter 18 it says, “The center of the earth is the end of the world,” which is from – you guessed it – Jesus of Suburbia. And no, I’m not a Christian either.
So… Yeah. That’s the deal with that.
And also (not to go back to Numb3rs, but I have to get this out) I really wish someone would list the analogies used in Numb3rs and say where they were aired and what concept they go to. Because, when I was doing my bowling marathon, I was trying to remember where the bowling analogy was from. There was one – it had something to do with being able to see where something’s been by what’s left behind, like being able to tell the path of a bowling ball by looking at the scattered pins; or it might have been that there’s a certain place on the cluster of pins where they will all fall down. I think it’s the former, though, but I can’t for the life of me remember for sure or where it is so’s I can check it. It’s agonizing.
Kay. Numb3rs conversation is over. I talk about this show way way way too much – probably because no one I know watches it or cares to understand it. Most of my friends are just like, “Oh, that’s the sort of thing DreamingOfNothing would watch. Not Gray’s Anatomy, not Gossip Girl, not One Tree Hill – she watches a nerd show about math.”
Hey. Charlie is the coolest mathematician on earth, okay?
Terry: No, I was a good student. I just couldn’t get into math. I couldn’t see how it could relate to the real world.
Charlie: (Clunks glass down heavily) Math is the real world, okay? It’s everywhere.
Yeah. I said I’d stop with that. Shutting up.
*Crickets chirp, as DreamingOfNothing now has nothing to talk about. The chirping is slightly exasperated, as if even the brainless crickets understand that DreamingOfNothing is obscenely obsessed*
G’night, all. Wish me luck on my SATs in less than two weeks.
~DreamingOfNothing
Would I? Would I?
*DreamingOfNothing almost slips in her own dripping sarcasm*
Basically, the deal with that was: I was waxing lyrical about I Am The Messenger and The Book Thief and Markus Zusak in general (this was right after I finished Messenger, so you can understand my enthusiasm) and my mother says, “I think I’d like to read that book. Can you get it for me?”
Pause while the earth swivels violently on its axis. My mother never reads my books. As in, never. I think she tried to read Harry Potter once, but couldn’t get past the first chapter. And she did skim the last few chapters of Deathly Hallows, so she’d know what happened (because my brother and I had been getting in fierce debates about what was going to happen. I was positive that the Horcrux thing was stupid, a fact which my brother will never let me forget), but that’s about it. She doesn’t reads fiction at all, really. So it was a bit of a shocker when she asked to read my book.
She’s doing alright with Messenger, though. She thinks that Zusak swears too much (which is why I shudder to think what she’d make of The Basic Eight, which makes Messenger look quite prim) and she wishes he wouldn’t make the various sexual references that he does (which also pale in comparison to The Basic Eight), but she just finished Clubs and is very happy with it overall. So that one worked out okay.
So you understand why I have to be rather nonchalant about the book. Which stinks, for me, because when I read really good books I tend to gush about them. And this blog gives me a perfect outlet. Suffer through it, poor readers.
However, not tonight because it’s late and my parents keep walking past my post on the sofa and giving me pointed glances (meaning that they want me to go to sleep but can’t force me to) which means I should turn in pretty soon. I just checked CBS.com for the new Numb3rs, and then remembered. 
I’m already feeling the effects of Numb3rs withdrawal. I think I’ll have to watch several pirated episodes tomorrow to calm my addiction. I’ve already quoted Lawrence Fleinhart several times today, one quote being:
“Were I in a less ebullient frame of mind, I might very well bop you in the nose.”
*Giggle* I love Larry. Honestly. He is the funniest – quirkiest – character. And I haven’t even got started on his monochromatic food.
I’ll have to continue this Larry character analysis tomorrow. My eyes are shutting, as they wanted to all day but I refused to let them as I had to finish The Basic Eight. So I bid you all a fine night.
~DreamingOfNothing
Sparkling Angel
My silence lasted for twelve hours. 58 words. 28 outside of class. Which is pretty decent, to toot my own horn. I was ready to explode at 8:45 PM, though. I’ll have to try it again sometime, I think. But not for a while. I’m too grateful for speech at the moment to give it up again. I’m not sure how the Muslims handle Ramadan. (A word which here means, “A month of starving half to death because you can only eat after sundown – a month which, depending on the year, be in summer or winter – and requiring far more self-control than anyone I know who isn’t fictional possesses.”)
I went bowling today. Didn’t do half badly either, if I do say so myself. Course, my fellow bowling partners bailed on me after six frames, so I ended up bowling the rest of the game (and another game) by myself – whilst they played DDR – because I left the cash (and desire) to do so at home. It was fun, though. When you’re playing against yourself, you always win. Plus, a bunch of eleven-year-olds in the adjacent alley thought I was the coolest thing since sliced bread. Which was pretty nice.
I’ve made another run to the library, and now am reading The Basic Eight, by Lemony Snicket. (Who claims his name is Daniel Handler, but we all know.) It’s really good. It’s in the standard Snicket tradition of meta-fiction-izing his books, but that’s the way he writes and that’s part of why I love him. Most people haven’t had the guts to do the kind of metafiction he’s doing since the end of the nineteenth century.
I’ve got a Coach keychain now. Aren’t I special. Blame my aunt, who seems to think that all modern teenagers care about is iTunes gift cards and Coach stuff. She was a really nice woman once she realized that I was decidedly abnormal in that respect, and we carried on a very interesting conversation about The Book Thief and I Am the Messenger – of which she didn’t get the ending either. Why does no one else get it?
***Spoilers for the end of I Am The Messenger***
I am so tired of people telling me that Markus Zusak was out of his mind when he wrote I Am The Messenger, because the ending made no sense and was contrived BLAH BLAH BLAH. So I now offer my interpretation, which is proved by the author page.
Sekrit: The guy at the end of the book is Markus Zusak himself. Look again. Listen to how he says how he created it all, created Ed to be a lousy taxi driver (I’m paraphrasing – the book’s been returned to the library) and how he scribbles in a notebook as he leaves. Plus, the description looks like him. PLUS – on the About the Author Page, he’s holding a manila folder and holding a pair of striped athletic shoes.
My Point Made. I am so glad to get that out of my system.
***Cease Spoilers. If you had to skip the area inside the astericks, please go read the book. It’s incredible.***
I have to go prepare for the Holy Sabbath now. And read The Basic Eight. And, if I have time after that, start Audrey, Wait! And eat chocolate. Or Granny Smith Apples.
~DreamingOfNothing
Silence on the Western Front
I’m experimenting. With not talking. Now, 33 points. Higher points – bad.
What the heck. I give up. I sound cro-magnon. I read about this in a book, and it reminded me of a few years ago when one of my friends tried to go the whole school day (or was it just a few hours?) without talking. So I figured – what the heck. I’ll try it.
It’s tough. Not as tough as I thought it would be, though. It’s easier after a while, when you’ve gotten used to the idea of not saying anything and don’t just talk automatically. Especially since my friends are all obsessive about it, because they don’t like it. One’s doing some psycho-analysis on me – another’s bringing up subjects that she believes are so controversial that I’ll have to add my opinion (Twilight, Gossip Girl, Miley Cyrus’s bra scandal, whether I’m becoming a monk) – and another is chattering my Fruit Leather wrapper in my face and saying that she won’t stop until I tell her too. It would almost have been worth the two words to say, “Bug off” or “Shut up” or even the expensive, “Leave me alone, moron.”
But it’s working out. I think they’ve gotten used to it, too, or they’re just waiting to catch me off guard. The one thing that still bugs me, though, is that they don’t understand why I’m not talking. It’s just… A challenge. Like NaNoWriMo was. If I get through the whole day with as few words as possible (30 of the 33 words were from one class, with a teacher who asked a lot of questions and asked me to read aloud. I think I did fairly well, under the circumstances.) There is a three-word rule, where if a question is asked me by a teacher, I get three free words. So the ideal is to be able to answer in three words or less, but I obviously was less than adept at that skill.
So now I’m chattering away on my blog, since my mouth is shut for the day. All I’ve said out of question-answering was, “Hello.” and “Good Morning.” It’s my greeting reflexes. I do it automatically. Good thing no one’s held a door open for me yet today, or I’d have to add, “Thank you,” to my list.
You can actually communicate fairly well without words, if you want to. It reminds me of Katie, in Mockingbird Don’t Sing. Because she’d lived 14 years of her life in silence, so she had very well-developed ways of expressing herself without speaking. Or Helen Keller, who’d evolved her own sort of sign language by age 7. It’s interesting, to try and see what mute people have to do. To be able to appreciate our own gifts of speech.
Is that why I’m doing this? After a fast day, I’m much more grateful for food and my safe, healthy life after not eating for an entire day. And knowing that there are some people who live their entire lives like that – it makes you feel for them so much more. What’s said about fasting clarifying your view on life – it’s so true. It may not make me feel closer to God, but it makes me feel closer to humanity as a whole. Doesn’t that count for something?
But it’s not for that reason. I like testing my limits, seeing how much self-control I have. Seeing if I have enough discipline to be able to not say a word for a day, or a week, or a month (though I highly doubt it’ll be that long), or however long I can do it. It’s exactly like NaNoWriMo. It’s all about mind over matter, going onward through simple force of will. Because you cannot fail yourself.
That’s why. I’m not becoming a monk (in case you are reading this, classmates, which I know you are not) and I’m not asking for help. I’m just testing my strength, and seeing if my personal heroes are plausible or if they’re just what everyone says they are – fictional, and therefore high above my reach.
We shall see. There’s my words.
Keeping the Silence,
~DreamingOfNothing
Edit: Make that 34. Curse my stupid ‘Hello’ reflex!
Eyes… Shutting…
So basically, if you live in America and have not been under a rock (or in a monastery, or space station, or steam tunnels) you’ve heard of the Polygamist Christian Sect thing in Texas. For those of you uninformed, it’s major news. So, while The Patron Saint of Butterflies (now henceforth to be known as Patron Saint, or if I’m feeling verbose, Patron Saint of Butterflies) isn’t about this sect or even any other polygamist sect, it’s still about an equally brainwashing christian branch-off where children are raised in groups, away from their parents from 6 months to 7 years, where music is outlawed, and eating red or orange food is eating the food of the devil. The book alternated between Honey, who’s completely against the entire sect and wants desperately to escape to the real world – and Agnes, who is in love with the religion she has lived all her life and truly does believe that the sect leader (Emmanuel) is the second to God that he claims to be. It’s very, very cool to see an already interesting topic told by both sides; from the perspective of a Believer and a Non-Believer.
Quick summary. Yeah, right. I doubt I could write a short summary on anything if my life depended on it. Not that I can see the conversation ever coming up, to be honest.
Evil_Knive_Brandishing_Dude: (Brandishes sword) Give me a short summary of Oliver Twist!
DreamingOfNothing: Well, um, there’s a kid who’s an orphan and he’s named Twist because all-
Evil_Knive_Brandishing_Dude: I said a short summary, you moron! *Schwing*
It’s just not a scenario I find particularly plausible. Anyway, I’m not going to spoil The patron Saint of Butterflies for ya’ll anymore than I already have, because it’s amazing an you should all read it. It’s great.
I’m tired. G’night. And I actually posted on a Tuesday for the first time in several weeks. Applaud me.
~DreamingOfNothing
For Real This Time
The Most Dangerous Game is a story which has been retold a million times – the one about the hunter who ends up being hunted by this other creep. I actually had loads of fun writing my very opinionated intro paragraph, where I completely degraded hunting and unnecessarily slaughter in general. I’m a vegetarian – not because I’m against slaughter for food, it’s a health and family thing – but while I can stomach killing a cow (which has been raised solely for this purpose, mind you) to turn it into hot dogs, something about sport killing just sickens me. And when my research brought me to the way Russians hunted wolves, I was gone. Yes, I admit, it’s my Remus Lupin Conditioning, but there’s something about wolves being gutted alive that makes me want to rip a Russian’s throat out. Ironically enough.
And after further analysis of When World’s Collide, I have concede that there have been better episodes. In fact, (I apologize) to quote Charles Eppes, “Was I asleep? Did I miss the memo? When did the whole world throw rational thought out the window?” The world of Numb3rs, at any rate. Or the FBI, at least. It’s rather sad, to be honest. *Sigh* I hate that TV shows end over the summer.
Anyway, I’m going to bed now. It’s far too late to be posting when I actually need to be doing something the next day. And I’m listening to Angel (Within Temptation) again, but it’s good. It’s dark, but good. They’re practically synonyms in my musical vocabulary. My current operatic/gothic (what’s the official name?) music scene is mainly comprised of Within Temptation and Evanescence – mostly because they have such strong and unique lead vocals. Especially Evanescence. You know when you’re listening to Amy Lee, because no one else sounds anything like her. She’s amazing.
~DreamingOfNothing
When Worlds Collide
Oh my gosh. That was one of the best season finales I have ever seen. I admit, I have only seen four season finales, and only this one was in context, but still. It was brilliant, and they didn’t pull what they did last season. (The whole Enemy-Spy-Colby thing)
And though some of the punches they packed this eppesode I saw coming from a mile off (Megan leaving the Bureau), I didn’t expect Charlie’s security clearance to be taken away. That was a shocker.
The story is this: In the course of this week’s case, Charlie’s colleague (who works on the genetics of crops to try to make them bacteria and pest resistant) was arrested. His work, which could benefit farmers in third world countries, was being put forth as evidence that he was working with a terrorist groups – because he sent some of the work to Pakistan and that some of it could be used to generate pathogens. (In English – it could be used as a bioweapon.)
Now: Charlie has the biggest heart. He wants desperately to get this information to Pakistan because he knows how much it could help. The professor in question is still in police custody because it’s illegal to share information that could be used against this country; thus, he can’t share his work with people who could use it.
Enter Charlie. He emails the information to four different universities in Pakistan – knowing full well that it’s against Federal Law, but doing it because he’s Charlie and he’s doing what he believes is right. And so he’s arrested and even though his lawyer rescues him from a prison sentence, Charlie loses his security clearance – meaning that he can no longer consult for the FBI.
Now, I think that we all know that he isn’t actually done consulting for Don. Numb3rs has been slated for another season, and you can’t have a season of Numb3rs without Charlie working with Don. It’s the premise of the show. Thusly, I’m not worried about if he’ll get his clearance back, but rather intrigued about how he’ll regain it.
And I am a little sad about losing Megan. I like her. It’s too bad that Diane Farr is pregnant again. Last time she was pregnant, Megan was temporarily transferred to the DOJ, but now she’s left the FBI altogether to get her doctorate and do counseling for women in prison. Which sounds like a job she’d like, but we’re still going to miss her.
I hope she guest stars once in a while. I mean, she’s still dating Larry. Maybe she’ll pop in once in a while.
And Liz didn’t rejoin the team, which leaves them back at three members. They’ll need a profiler, though – maybe Terry will come back? (Actually, I just stabbed my own theory with a little research – Sabrina Lloyd doesn’t want to come back to the show). A new character, then. That’s bound to be interesting.
So, Numb3rs Season Five FBI Team Projection: Don (Team Leader – Plus, it’s his show. He’s got to be in it), Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (David and Colby), and Profiler, yet to be named. And Charlie will be consulting, though he’ll have to earn back the clearance and probably anything NSA is out. I wonder if Larry and Amita lost clearance – They were there when Charlie did the deed, and he warned them that they’d probably be accessories. Huh. Something to think about over the Numb3rs-free summer. *Sob* I will try to make it through.
I think that Charlie had a valid point, though. That counter-terrorist guy was so sure that they Pakistani people were terrorists, when the terrorist at the end of the day was Irish. I admit that Middle Eastern Muslims are more likely to be terrorists than your average Catholic Irishman, but Counter_Terrorist_Dude (from now on to be known as CTD) should have been a tad more objective. This eppesode was basically one big
political message, which was kind of annoying, but it was interesting to see where Charlie’s true loyalties lie when it comes to a fight between what’s right and what’s easy.
*Another Sob* We’ve got a regular little Sirius Black on our hands! Go Charles Edward Eppes PhD!
Anyway, I think I’m done. Just one last word from Colby, in one of the many entertaining lines in this eppesode:
Charlie: I’ll be using an analysis based on Byzantine fault tolerance.
Colby: With a name like that, I don’t even wanna ask, Charlie.
Which is again harking back to Math-Illiterate-And-Apathetic-Colby. I still find it funny that Dylan Bruno (Colby) is more mathematically qualified than David Krumholtz (Charlie).
Okay, fine, just one more:
Charlie: I don’t, I don’t think we should hoard that kind of knowledge, I don’t think we have the right to.
Don: Well, we have the right to protect our country, don’t we?
Charlie: On any given day, you know, I’m in contact with scientists in Moscow, and China, and India. Are you gonna arrest me?
Don: *Weak smile*
Blatant foreshadowing, anyone?
Edit: Guess what? I didn’t blow my grandmother up, and I finally found that screencap of Kamil from last week! Go Me!
Except that it’s so dark that you can’t even really see it! *Hiss* I tried, okay?
~DreamingOfNothing
Icicles Keep Falling On My Head
I careth not, however. I have my computer, which I really all I need. (Though it would be nice to have my books… *Sigh* One cannot have everything).
And I was very upset last night (as one may have been able to gather from my infuriated, profanity-ridden post) but I calmed down shortly afterward. A good combination of chocolate, cranberry juice, and Markus Zusak will do that.
And so now I freeze in the icebox that is the basement. And I want to go to the library so so so so badly because The Patron Saint of Butterflies is in! I’ve been wanting to read that book since way before it came out, and I’m so excited. It’s killing me slowly with anticipation.
I’m going to try very hard not to blow up my Paternal X-Chromosome Provider, because I think that would cause a lot of very messy paperwork and I’d rather avoid that if at all possible.
I’m going to read the Draco Trilogy again, or perhaps Shoebox. I loved the update, and can’t wait for another one.
~DreamingOfNothing
