Relative Dimension

I ordered the last five books of NJO used through Amazon. The books total up to be under $15. Shipping, because they're coming from three different sources, adds up to $17. Go figure. The last time the shipping cost more than the book was when I ordered one from England. (It was a Stargate book and isn't available here, so I just may have the only copy in the States. Hooray for Amazon UK!) And by the way, stuff from England is expensive.

Last week I picked up a new backpack capable of porting around my laptop and it kicks ass. It's got like ten pockets and it's made by the Swiss Army guys, so it's going to last forever. Unfortunately I thought it was a different backpack that had a hip strap. Oh well. It'll serve its purpose. It's still a sweet pack. Did I mention my laptop fits in it like a glove? Awesome.

Putting up particle board on a triangular ceiling is an interesting experience. I'm very glad that the guys in my immediate family aren't old fashioned about girls doing that sort of thing. They just chuckle a little when I have to stand on my toes to reach something, but this I'm used to. Sam's made fun of my height ever since he outgrew me. The work wasn't effortless, either. My hips are aching now and I can tell my whole back will be stiff and sore tomorrow.

I'm going to wash the sawdust out of my hair and try to get past the third page of my book.

Watched part of Wrath of Khan on Spike last night. Man, I miss the old Star Trek. I miss my adorable Russian. It sort of dawned on me watching it this time just how bad everybody was. Ricardo Montalban obviously did a lot of Shakespeare in the sixties.

I almost finished my book but I got distracted by Eddie Izzard. Now I'm watching some movie on FX called Con Express that looks cheesy, but it's got the gorgeous Sean Patrick Flanery. His hair in the flashback part is so cute.

Daniel Jackson wasn't on Stargate tonight!!! I needs to have my Daniel! I don't care if he's having another baby, he'd better to be on next week! And he'd better get whumped this season, I swear to god, because I didn't get any last year!

Nobody told me it was going to be 100 degrees today! I got my hair cut this morning and it seems like it was just in time for the hot weather. It's awfully short; some might use the term "lesbian." But it feels great, and it will grow out a bit in a couple of weeks anyway.

I've started reading The Lord of the Rings again at the rate of about five pages a day. At that pace I should finish sometime in January.

Season two of Venture Bros. starts tomorrow and I'm very much looking forward to it. I just hope they bring back Hank and Dean.

Sam comes home in two weeks!

I had hoped to finish Half-Blood Prince today so that I could watch all the movies tomorrow, my one completely free day this week, but seeing as I have over two hundred and fifty pages left I'd say it's not bloody likely. Either way, I'll have something to do tomorrow.

I've got about 300 pages to go in Order of the Phoenix (roughly the length of the first book) and I'm finally in unfamiliar territory; I haven't read the back half of this one in about three years and so far almost nothing rings a bell. I've realized this is a dry year for Harry Potter (no new book, no new movie) which there hasn't been since the books started coming out here. Good thing I'm getting my fix. But soon I'll run out and there won't be any more and I'll be sad.

Both the cats are sneezing and sniffling with some respiratory thing. Rodrigo's being a brat and not letting us give him his meds without putting up a good fight. I've suggested sticking the eyedropper down his throat while he's sleeping, or knocking him out first. Mom wasn't too thrilled with those ideas.

I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but I'm starting to miss being in school and having tons of homework. I've been reading these books with kids at school and all their homework for a week and a half and it's making me jealous. I want to go to a magic school and play Quidditch and stuff. I'll have to settle for a Muggle university and club sports; I've never played sports in school in my life, except for lunchtime soccer and whatever was in PE, so there's not a chance in hell I'd make the teams. But there's about 5000 clubs there, so I should be able to find something I like. I really want to learn to snowboard. Hockey or soccer might be fun as well. I just can't do sports that involve throwing, because I throw like a girl. 
College certainly suits me better than K-12, and oddly enough I do best when I'm constantly kept busy writing essays and stuff. I had two terms at Chemeketa where I got all As: one was fall of last year when I had Precalculus, Astronomy, and Speech (which is incredible, because I'm usually terrible at every one of those subjects); and winter of my second year when I had three English classes (Intro Shakespeare, Intro Drama Lit, Intro Mythology) and World History. I was turning in several essays every couple of weeks and my notebook was delightfully crammed and messy. I really wish I'd had this spirit about learning when I was a kid. Maybe if the atmosphere hadn't been so repressive I'd have had the will to do better. But those years have gone.

I have nine workdays remaining before I gleefully rejoin the rainks of the unemployed.

OMG THEY THREW AWAY THE F***ING LOCKET! I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY DID THAT!!! DON'T THEY KNOW THAT THING IS A BLOODY HORCRUX??!!?! WE'RE DOOMED!

I really, really want to write something right now. But what, but what? I have a story that I'm quite a ways into, but it's fanfic and I want to write something of my own (besides, I'm a little stuck). All this reading of an author who started writing his first book at FIFTEEN has made me want to sit down, shut up, and accomplish something. Trouble is, for me that's a hell of a lot harder than it sounds. I'm not going to be a very good author if I can't ever get anything written. I think my problem is that I'm afraid of my writing. I don't know if I can get more specific than that. Whatever it is, I need to get over it. Lately I've sort of wanted to write something of the sort that's really introspective and weird that I usually can't stand to read. Something like the narrative opening of an old film noir. Or some weird story like Jim Jarmusch's Dead Man (even though it's a movie). But since I never read that kind of stuff, I don't know how to write it. Damn.

I have all these ideas floating at the edge of my mind, but I can't seem to quite grasp them. They slip through my fingers like so much sand and blow away on the turbulent wind of my thoughts, and frustration covers me like a shroud.

There, now we're getting somewhere. I think ranting is good for my creative side.

Eldest update!
Two words: drunk dragon. Drunk, singing, and falling over on tables. Freaking hilarious.
I'm beginning to really like this series.

I just finished reading Eragon and it was all right. I do wish that I'd looked at the film cast list before I'd started. I had the wrong guy for Brom. But the guy I used was offered the role, so I was close. I'm not wild about Christopher Paolini's writing style because it seems amateurish and unrefined, but I guess I should go easier on a guy who wrote his first book at fifteen. Show off. Anyway, the story was decent and it had one character that I really liked, but part of that may have something to do with him in my mind looking suspiciously like Robert Pattinson (aka Cedric Diggory). Sometimes when I read books I figure out plot twists that aren't really there, and I hope that turns out to be the case with one involving him. It actually makes a bit of sense and I've seen little that disproves it, but I still hope I'm wrong about it. If I'm not, it basically means toast for my guy. I don't know how I cooked this one up, either. It's a doozy. Anyway I have to wait three or four days until I can get the next book so I won't know for sure until at LEAST then. Maybe not even until the third book, and I don't think that's been written yet. Fooey. Oh well, I'll keep hoping my imagination is putting things together that don't go again. I'm really terrible at solving mysteries. I think Half-Blood Prince is the only one I actually figured out almost right away. No romance taking over in this book, but I know for a fact it's only a matter of time because the fortune teller said so and she's been right about stuff so far. I just hope it's the cute black chick and not Mary Sue Elf. She's too old for Eragon anyway. I know I said that thing about wanting an older girl in a couple, but she's probably got at least a few thousand years on this kid. I don't think it would work out. Personally I think he should snub both girls and choose his buddy Murtagh (who looks alarmingly like Robert Pattinson), but I'm not that lucky. They'll have to have a secret affair. I don't feel like reading my other books now, I feel like continuing this series... which is weird, because I usually get sick of a series after one book and have to leapfrog. Maybe I liked this book more than I think I did. I guess I don't usually finish a five hundred page book unless I have some interest. I MUST find out what happens to Murtagh. I don't much care for Paolini's descriptions of his female characters. There's only one who he doesn't keep reminding us is Aphrodite's twin, and I think that one's based on his sister. Well, two, but the other one's a dragon so she doesn't count. She's blue, that's about all I know. I will give the next book a try. But if the Evil King Galbatorix turns out to be Eragon's father, I will never read another book again.  

When I'm reading Eragon is played by Daniel Radcliffe. And you may have heard Murtagh is Robert Pattinson. Yay! Pretty!

I'm reading Eragon. It's not too bad. The author's definitely read Dune, though. I can tell you that. I could write an essay on the similarities. But it's okay. The best ones are those who steal from everybody else. The ones who get everything from the stuff they dreamed last night, well, they just plain suck. YA Fantasy is where all the real talent is.