March 6th, 2005

elijah

this is my brain on nothing at all.

You know how one morning you wake up from a dream and you think: Well, that's it. I have reached the apex of surreality. No other dream will ever come close to the insanity of *that*. And so you believe until the night you dream about a squadron of seals attacking your hideout with machine guns. Actual seals. Not Navy seals. I was with a bunch of refugees jam-packed into an old factory. We took alternating shifts, day and night, to sleep and keep watch in case of attack.

When I saw the seals pulling up outside, I ran upstairs and yelled, "Seals! With machine guns!" Someone else said, "Did you say *seals* with machine guns, or...?" Yes, I cried back! It's the seals!

Everyone scattered in panic. We arrayed ourselves in immobile rows on shelves, pretending we were dolls. The seals came in and negotiated with our leaders. Apparently we were late making a tribute of munitions, which is why they'd stopped by. We came to some successful agreement and the seals heaved themselves back outdoors and onto their jeeps and motorcycles, those ones with little sidecars, and drove away.

My alternate lives are exciting.
elijah

ohmygod I am a *GIRL* again.

*twirls*

I had my brows and upper lip waxed, and I bought bras, and I got my hair done. And the bras are shiny and silky and the best-fitting bras I've EVER bought, and they were on SALE! For $6.99 each! And my hair is, oh my god, my hair is the *cutest* *thing* *ever*! I wish I could show you all. It's dark dark dark, but with skunky platinum streaks, just like I've always wanted--I've asked at least three different stylists for this, and it's the first time anyone's got it right. I'm so jazzed. I'M SO CUTE! And you know I don't say that lightly. *g*

(Some of you may recall my last cut. The cut of horror. The cut that made me cry like a little bitch. This is a karmic 180.)

I don't inform you of these things to brag, but to give heart to everyone who, like me, occasionally fears bra shops and hair salons, as places that have innocent-looking bunnies with MIGHTY TEETH lurking in their corners. But there were no Monty Pythonesque Terror Bunnies today. It was all good. And so you too must go forth and brave the malls of America. I command it! And have some Godiva.

It was so gorgeous out today. Tomorrow I'm going to call my trainer and get my work-outs back on track. And maybe have lunch with anaxila if I can winkle her out of her office. It's like prying a stubborn clam up from the sand. Get out of the sand, Amy! Come have lunch with me tomorrow!

What more is there to say? Oh...Spike! Xander! Spike!
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    Buffyish, with a side of Cordy