i am not your concern

locked up inside the

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 22:29:44 GMT

Does anyone else get Charley horses? In the middle of the night? I've gotten then every day so far this week and they're the weirdest thing. I've gotten them numerous times before, but still. I'm never awake enough to be able to do anything about them when they happen (which is the flipping middle of the night) but i'm in enough pain to wake up and grope around in frustration to make it stop. The weirdest bit is right after I wake up, I always have this vague, half-dream remembrance of it, so where I don't really know if it happened... and then my leg will hurt and i'll go oh.

I've got no clean socks for tomorrow, and for the life of me, I can't figure out where all my clean socks have run off to. (intentions to write up a blather-y post for later on. But more important, right now, WHERE ARE MY SOCKS?)

just so we can

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 00:54:08 GMT

Sometimes I just kind of feel like announcing how much I love music. Really. POINT BLANK. It's pretty much unexplainable. (I'm totally procrastinating right now).

That's why the concert last Sunday was so cool. It was music, and it was real. It was right there, William Beckett and Bryce and Gabe were THAT CLOSE, and they were singing. It wasn't Youtube, it wasn't headphone's. They're real human beings who produce this stuff that I breathe and they were there.

Music is my fifth sense.

COBRA STARSHIP: Guilty Pleasure

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 04:47:39 GMT

I swear, if I can't sleep because this song keeps repeating itself in my head I will SACRIFICE A SQUIRREL. (But nomg, this song. I LOVE IT. I have listened to it far too many times already.)

tomatoes?

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 23:16:12 GMT

I interrupt your... well, whatever the heck you're doing, to share this:

Giada Likes Tomatoes.

This isn't my respect for her flying out the window or anything, but I swear, this makes it just that much more difficult for me to take her seriously. (I rarely watch the Food Network anymore anyways..)

Tue, 31 Jul 2007 20:25:39 GMT

I cannot believe i'm posting this. GNRGH.
PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. THIS WAS DONE FOR PURE.. UHM. I DON'T KNOW. ohgod.

Title: Untitled
Pairings: H/S (DH Spoilers)

It was in the dark alley's that they met, a near imitation to the empty classrooms and secluded hallways of Hogwarts. Harry said he wanted it as close as possible to how it used to be. Scorpius never complained, not that he wanted particularly wanted to. If he did, all Harry would do was laugh and say that his father used to whine too. Used to whine practically every bloody chance he got, but he's not whining now is he? With a wife like that, and a son like you.

Now, all he whines about is the hair that he's losing. Going bald, must be tragedy, Harry says. He'll never loose his hair. He'll never change.

Scorpius admits, at times, Harry acts stranger than his own family. The Malfoy's, as pure as they are, are in inbred bunch and during the family holiday's their straight laced uptight airs fall apart and crack at the seams, and Scorpius wonders how much of that insanity he's managed to inherit. But Harry's insanity is a bit different, more hard edged and broken, as if he's lost parts of himself over the years, parts of himself he's drowned in too many pints and too many children with names that were supposed to make things appear to be alright.

Harry can only fool the rest of the world, but he never managed to fool himself.

His children will never make up for the people he's lost. His children, with the names of his father's and his own personal saviors, will never be their namesakes, but only themselves. They will never be able to live up to the things Harry wants them to, and they will never be able to give him the things he lost.

Except when it comes to Scorpius.

Harry's not a git. At least not a giant one. He doesn't truly believe Scorpius is Draco. Except when the firewhiskey clouds his vision and Scorpius' slight frame, thin ribs, white hair, starts to look all so familiar that Harry's anger starts to burn stronger and he has to try even harder not to remember what he's lost along the way. It's when Scorpius can see it in Harry's pupils, his shaking eyes, that he starts to worry he might end up hurt.

Scorpius always ends up hurt. Not that he particularly minds, just like his father.

Thu, 10 May 2007 22:51:37 GMT

Guess what I'm doing for Senior Skip Day?

I'm staying at home. OHYEAH. So excited. (pffffffft)

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 01:13:26 GMT

UHM. NOT. DEAD. YET.
REALLY.

Expect some sort of -What Zosia has been doing in the past 4 months, but in a nutshell- post SOON. When, uh, I'm not feeling quite so lazy. This details many a thing. GUESS WHO'S SUDDENLY GROWN UP? aka been practically disowned by her mother for making decisions that she didn't agree with concerning college, which caused zosia to do things completely on her own or risk ceratin death. FUN? I think not!

I think i've been PMSing for the past week. Also quite fun! What's even more fun? I'm trying desperately not to get sick and it might sortakinda be working but I'm not sure and it's worrysome.

Anddddd uhhhhh, I've taken to drawing on the walls at dad's house. Only in my room, but Boo'd like it to be otherwise. PICTURES? maybe, maybe not.

ANTHONY BOURDAIN. IN AN HOUR. SWEET.

Mon, 18 Dec 2006 01:55:41 GMT

This week was rather... odd, as is this new posting system. And I'm sitting here, staring at a blank Microsoft Word document that should be full of fabulous fiction that's due tomorrow and it's not and all I can think is shit.

Dad is leaving and coming home in 3 days. He will be here SOON. MWAHAH. My pant leg is wooobling for no reason whatsoever and I've gotten into MSU (YESYESYES!). Also? I've been invited to go New York by a friend of mine and her family.

Now I'm going to continue staring at this blank document. And hope that it magically fills itself.