Mar. 8th, 2007

bliumchik: (triumph)
[livejournal.com profile] cadhla's first studio album is in pre-orders - info here, her website is http://seananmcguire.com/ - check it out, because she's made of awesome. And wants to close preorders soon, hence the call to advertising.

In other news, I think I aced English, which is handy cos I'm pretty sure I failed math. Hurray!

Graargh.
bliumchik: (Default)
And a meme from [livejournal.com profile] annella and [livejournal.com profile] active_apathy, while I'm hanging around at school waiting for my singing lesson.


Crush this person!
Get your own ThisCrush.com CrushTag!

Okay, now I feel guilty for spamming, so have a story:

The crazy, it is generally known, runs in my mother's side of the family. It's not a major crazy, it's only just bordering on "slightly unhinged," but in comparison to my fathers ridiculously logical sense it resembles a whole pitcher of crazy in a pitcher made of crazy glass. This causes some conflict in me, since I've theoretically got both crazy and anti-crazy genes all in one lovely neurotic package. But that's not the point of this story.

The point is: my grandma. She talks a lot. She talks continuously. That's not unusual - the odd bit is that her conversation has no signifiers. My dad likens her to a radio with a broken dial. You see, she'll be going on about her visit to the ophthalmologist, and you'll tune out for a couple of seconds, and when you tune back in - she's rambling about my grandad's insistence that she make special food for Jewish festivals as though she's been talking about it all day. Where was the transition? What sparked the change of topic? NOBODY KNOWS. It's one of the abiding mysteries of my family.
bliumchik: batface + batpalm = batfacepalm (snark)
The wonders of modern technology. Now I can keep track of where my ljfriends live here, and what diasters are about to befall them here.

I touched a butterfly yesterday on the way home from school. It didn't really appreciate it because it was in the process of convincing another butterfly to have sex with it by flapping its wings energetically, but I couldn't resist - they were just hanging in the air right in front of me, too engrossed in their dance to bother flying away. They were huge and black and beautiful, and I was probably the equivalent of that cat that aways rubs up against your leg while you're trying to make out with someone.

Profile

bliumchik: (Default)
Captain Oblivious

October 2014

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19 202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 3rd, 2026 08:09 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios