HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUUUU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR NIKOLA TESLAAAAA
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU.

I would have an entry full of more relevant topics, but my brain is full of radio static today. I blame lack of sleep and lack of tea and lack of lunch(off to remedy that when I'm done typing! only we . . . sortofdon'thaveanything
unless i want to take like an hour preparing something crazy elaborate for myself and knowing me today i'd likely cook so poorly i'd create a black hole of awful cooking in the kitchen and destroy the whole town) and also the fact that I am only in Maine for forty-nine more days so therefore I believe my subconscious is saying Why On Earth Bother and told my intelligence to go on holiday until it was desperately needed. Up yours, subconscious, up yours with a kiwano melon, but at least I have figured out your methods, no matter how horrible I find them.

Elizaelizaeiiiiiza if you're reading this I humbly request a picture of the twenty-one coloured hat of sex and unf to tide me over til Wednesdayyyy.
.....iwanttoseeyoudashitall. but the hat will have to suffice in the meantime. T___T

I wrangled routers and needled around with networks and BEAT COMPUTERS INTO WIBBLING SUBMISSION this afternoon and now have the internet back at my disposal. Whee.

TANGIBLE: Loving loving loving this rain in perpetuity we seem to be getting around here lately. Rain tends to be a rather good omen for me so three days of being able to ramble around with a large beige umbrella with cats all printed on it and my blue wellies and be able to love the sounds made when all I can hear is the world around me has made me much more mellow than I've been. But who knows how long it shall last.

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INTANGIBLE: Sigh. It's waiting, that's all it is. It is not madness or failure or dysfunction! It is fear! Fear of what? Does it matter? Fear of something strange and nameless and peculiar and nebulous. It is the state of unsettlement that I have felt since last March. It is the daily realisation that there is no point in wasting pleasant emotions upon a time that shan't matter. Is that sad? Sick? Likely. But a year from now this shall all be history. Less than a year, milovelies. To have my future once again be a glorious mess of uncertainty and excitement instead of daily predictability—to not know what a day shall bring—I'll remember the feelings once more. They're just unfamiliar. Addressing such things is the first step, I suppose.

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MADE OF PENCIL-MARKS AND/OR YARN: I'M GOING TO GO DRAW THINGS NOW. And then finish the Sock. The Sock gets capitalised because the Sock is transcendental and majestic. Glorious and ageless. It radiates inner light rivalling the most brilliant of stars and suns. Truly it is a pink striped deity among knitwear.

I am proud of that sock. Although I suppose when it is done I will have to knit another one. And I might not love it as much because it will not be my first. And then I will feel guilty for not loving it as much. And of course it cannot be the Sock. There can be only one Sock. This might be a problem.

I'M POSTING. ZABBITABLAUGH.

There is absolutely no way that everything that has happened between last August and now can be made into one livejournal entry without reaching novel-length proportions. So I shan't speak of that all! But what I shall do is . . . hmm. Well, I can try. Actually—no. I'll just rant on, and if I touch on relevant information, then more power to me. I am entirely out of practise at writing relevant journal entries. Apologies.

School is over tomorrow. HUZZAH. I have not enjoyed this year of university. I wasn't particularly supposed to be lingering in Maine any longer . . . but welf. Stuff and that. FInancial and social and . . . mostly financial. I have a sleazebag uncle. He does things with college funds that he should not do. Or even be allowed to do legally. BUT. I AM STILL GOING TO NEW YORK NEXT YEAR SO THAT'S ALL GRAND. Monetary arghings have been rectified, my deferral was accepted, I don't have to reapply, and I get credits for the few classes I took this year at UMaine anyway so that's all well and good. I can get out of first year English, German, and psychology YAAAAY :D. So it's just sort of like I've got a missing year wedged in there somewhere.
But my uncle is still a sleazebag, regardless. And smells of cologne and yachts. I hope a piano falls on him.

I'M GOING TO THE UK IN JULY/MAYBE LATE JUNE. :D That'll also be nifty. I'm seeing some cousintypes I've not seen in a while, and another cousintype I've not seen EVER because he's two. He's named Marco. And speaks Portugese and English already because he's smarter than I am. And he has a marvellous green scarf that I made him, and apparently that he wore all through the winter. And I'm then roaming around England and Scotland and possibly Wales if I've time until I get either lost/tired/broke/eaten. Then I am going home. (and yes, I will mind the gap.)

Since this entry was PROMPTED BY A NUDGE OF DOOM, I am apparently obligated to speak of the nudger, and also to purge my journal of its jailbaity qualities, as said nudger pointed out.
Words Of The Nudger: Eliza, among other awesome qualities, has crocheted a jellyfish. And a muffin family. That makes her better than you. Do not question that statement. It are fact.
I Am Legal Now: Sex and rawr and, um, knickers. Yeah.

KNICKERSSSSSSSS

--Lily

HA HA WOW I HAVE A LIVEJOURNAL XD