Had first exam. Think passed. May not have. But think did. Hooray.

Went to doctor. Doctor gave me enough venlafaxine for the summer. 21g of it, sitting in my drawer... enough to overdose seriously on, though the webpage I saw had only a couple of fatalities from venlafaxine - but then it is only ten years old, and it might well have been old figures. Oh, but: "Venlafaxine adversely effects sleep by decreasing REM activity and decreasing sleep efficiency and continuity." Ignoring the incorrect English... half my problem, when I went to the doctor, was that my sleeping patterns were fucked. Excuse me while I look at the quoted sentence and raise my eyebrows...

Anyway... really ought to study. Will. Later.
So I found the corkscrew and I opened a bottle of red wine. Now, I don't drink much wine, but it's grown on me, and I have a feeling this bottle will be gone before I get on the bus home. Though I have no idea how wine-tasters do it. And I really need to work on my descriptors. Because while I get "sort of fruity and sharp", they apparently get "mature notes of cassis, raspberries and moccha combined with smoky flavours".

And the bit before? I just read the episode where AC and BC has occurred, and I have to say, even knowing that it's coming? It's a shock. And when A finds out that B has slept with C, he doesn't actually state it, he just points out the tell. And the audience work it out for themselves. Which is good.

And I'm really feeling weird about having lots of icons, because I have to, like, choose which one to use. And while one out of three isn't that hard a choice, one out of ten is. But. Yeah.

smoking

Apr. 3rd, 2003 11:11 pm
I nearly bought cigarettes the other day. I keep telling myself I will not start smoking, but... nearly.

Pros:
It fits the image.
I like the smell.
It would give me something to do while waiting.
I'm surrounded by people who do.
Um...

Cons:
That's a stupid reason.
Ditto.
Ditto.
Ditto.
It costs muchly.
You have to go up to the woman at the counter and ask for them.
Both of my grandmothers died from smoking-related disease.
Yadda, yadda, bitch whine can't be arsed...

But I want to. I just... I want to. I'm not going to. Really. I just have real trouble with temptation. That's why I'm not going to start, because I'd never be able to stop. I'm not entirely stupid, thanks.

But I can't think. Dammit.
Well, he is when I write him. See, I started writing this thing, got a bit stuck, asked [livejournal.com profile] nostalgia_lj, kind of but not really took her advice, and ended up with this fic which has him... well, that would be telling.

But there's a moment where he reminds himself not to think too much about phase pistols. Because obviously they turn him on.

OK, so I guess most of why I'm upset isn't that he's perverted - it's all perfectly natural (well, apart from that moment) - but rather that, y'know, I wrote this. I still think of myself as relatively pure.

and I just realised I missed my anti-d's for the second day in a row. buggery.

will work tomorrow. honest. well, depending on when I wake up and all that.

ohshitohshitohshit excuse me while I panic because I am going to fuck up my entire life by completely failing this semester and... aargh. never mind. at least I can write stuff like this.
came home
should work
may work


here is stuff I wrote over the past day or two.


so I’ve stopped lusting after James Marsters and started lusting after Nick Lea. I can’t decide whether this is a good thing or not. I mean, obviously they’re both lust-worthy, and yet…

mmm. Nick.

see, I downloaded a Highlander vid by mistake and I kept it because it was Cory Raines/Amanda, so, Nick. Weird thing, though – I think he’s taller than the guy that plays Duncan Macleod, and that was just a cognitive dissonance for me because I’ve been reading so much fic, and Duncan’s always the hulking great Scot, whereas for NL characters the writers always seem to emphasise the near-femininity of his features, which leads to false associations of a more delicate frame, which, dude. No.
Oh, but I noticed a shot where the camera was tilted making it appear as though DM was the taller of the two. Which suggests that it’s a deliberate thing on the part of the people who made Highlander, that Duncan is the all-conquering hero and he is bigger and better than absolutely everyone. Oh, but another shot from that vid with the hands on the hips and the absolute campness of everybody… dear me. It almost makes me regret deleting the Duncan/Tessa because of the “ew, het!”

It occurred to… nostalgia, actually… that I am largely a slash writer. See, I think of myself as bitextual, but really, I’m only mildly so. Which is a bit weird for me. But anyway…

ooh, also… X-Files vid, noticed that in his first ep, there’s a scene with Mulder and Krycek walking down the street and because of the slope of the pavement Krycek is noticeably shorter. Which goes with the younger greener agent who is not at all a threat, thank you very much, but still. And then in clips from later on there’s much more equality between them in terms of that. And now I’ve noticed this I’m not going to stop. Damn.

oh, another thing about Highlander fic that I just can’t stand. Duncan keeps being described as “broody even for a Scot”. And suchlike. And, hello. I am a Scot. I do not appreciate the stereotyping. And also? He’s so not.

The capsules I’m currently taking rattle as I swallow them. It’s quite disconcerting. And no, my top drawer isn’t starting to resemble a pharmacy.

Hmm. All I need is another couple of packets of painkillers, and I can pull a Bitch. Wouldn’t that be fun?

I wish I was pretty… *pouts*

The massive Krycek-POV is now over 15,000 words long, and they still haven’t had sex. This is just getting unnatural.

I’ve found a few other things I ought to finish writing, but I can’t really be bothered. And, y’know… just. whatever. Should work, too. Won’t. Dammit. Have lost coherency. Is not helpful.

But grr! to the lack of Internet and grr! to the lack of inspiration and grr! to my inability to work and grr! to the entire world! I can’t think! and it’s three weeks into term and I’ve fallen well behind already, and I don’t have any more chocolate and I just want to sit and read fic but I can’t and… grr!


have eaten much chocolate. feel a little sick. doubt will get any work done. oh well.
posted SE9 to sugarquill, found reviews I hadn't realised were there but just feel so... lethargic, and have to sort out a Fortran program for class and have to do some serious preparatory work on my talk on planets that is now sounding like such a bad idea and tomorrow have to get pile of notes and two question sheets which are due on Tuesday and probably ought to sleep but don't feel like it and think may be feeling effects of being of cipramil though it's probably more psychosomatic than anything else and then will be on Efexor and will be able to sit in tuts and say "sorry, side-effects, can't concentrate, feel nauseous/sleepy/twitchy/whatever-the-fuck-and-even-if-I-don't-will-tell-tutor-I-do-because-yes-I-want-them-to-think-I'm-mental-and...

eee.

much hate.
random personal crap )

are going to see The Ring tonight. feel certain it will be much crapper than the Japanese version. but will see.

don't feel like reading much but don't see any other options and am confused and don't care and hate feeling like a whiny little brat and stopping now
went to doctor - now on 30mg Citalopram. *shrugs* He said that if it didn't do much he'd likely switch me to something else next time instead of upping it again. So I might get to be different.

I have to call up for an appointment, and he told me to call now because I was supposed to go see him weeks ago and didn't because... yadda. whatever. going to call, and get up and go back into town to do shopping and maybe go see Student Support. or maybe not.

this really wasn't supposed to go in this journal, y'know? but, whatever.

going to do stuff. then going to get more writing done. got a couple of HP fics that I need to get done, inc. one for Valentine's day which is really not my usual thing.

did I mention how much fun I had with the M/K challenge day this weekend? it was just... such nice people. fun. huh, need to send in text files for that too. I'm so disorganised. and tired. and now my head hurts, dammit. not because of this, just because I have a headache. maybe it's the sun. or the dehydration.

don't mind me.
so I'm at home, and struggling to write this on a lap-top with a tracker and... aargh

anyway, I thought I'd be back in st a's by now because I, mong that I am, forgot my drugs. so I thought I had an excuse to get the bus back yesterday. but dad went and got me a week's supply. and then I thought he was going to take me to glasgow to get the bus but then he didn't and... aargh. need to go ask him, obviously.

had family party, I hid quite a lot but step-mum thinks I was sociable, so yay for that. and then yesterday I met up with a couple of friends and we didn't do much, so that was the same as ever. and I really want out of here. and it's all right, you know, I have no reason to be so upset about being here but somehow I still am. so. I'm going to check the bus timetable then I'll go ask dad for a lift.

oh yeah. he's been hassling me about eating. I think three bags of crisps and a bar of chocolate is a perfectly adequate mid-afternoon brunch. but maybe that's just me.
other sister (G) is now also here.

K suggests, given my sleeping patterns, that I'm on Eastern Standard Time. Which is all very well and good. But I live in GMT.

We opened a couple of presents early. We are bad children. Or pretending to be Danish.

K is cooking. This is good, as then I can take drug. Think I need it. Am a little worried about dependence, but that's not supposed to happen, so oh well.

Both sisters were very impressed by the string of silver beads I looped across the wall so it looked like I hadn't been living in a bare box for four months. Is good.
Cipramil.

I'm so unoriginal.

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