Unmade brains...

[thanate]

I woke up this morning from a dream in which I ran into one of my college roommates (harpist Sarah, from senior year, who I've since lost track of), and she was telling me what a horrible person I was for having neglected her and never written or something like that. And then I discovered that something [this space intentionally left blank] I had been tentatively allowing myself to look forward to very much this weekend needs once again to be postponed indefinitely. And while it might not have happened anyway, and probably in the grand scheme of things doesn't matter that much, for about the first hour I was awake it was all I could do to get ready for work instead of throwing a temper tantrum and crying myself back to sleep. A strong indication I should have gone home to bed last night instead of going to dinner after fencing, however nice that may have been...

In any case, I was in a sufficiently bad mood at work that Steve decided cheering me up was best accomplished by inspiring me to attack him with my shovel. I pointed out that this would merely give me something better to get upset about, especially as if I were to kill him, then I'd have to kill Brian as well, and bury both of them, and it would just be far more work on a day when I'd rather just go home and sleep anyway. But for some reason the conversation went on to encompass the similarity between making up one's mind (or making one's mind, a distinction which got lost yesterday when Steve insisted that I had a mind all my own which was made long before he got to it and decided for me that I wanted the other shovel...) and making a bed. Steve's mind has not been slept in for years. Apparently it's been having an affair with the mind next door in his head.

Oh, and incidentally, whatever Steve may say, I do not lust after Brian's Musell book. It is a very nice (brand new! not smeared with dried mud so you can't see the colors!) one, but there are far better things in the world for me to lust after...

At any rate, now I am home and clean (yay!) though that'll only last so long, what with melees tomorrow, and my hair is freshly washed and interesting pink things have happened to it... results to be determined when it drys and I can see what color it turned out. (Don't worry; it'll wash out in a month or two in any case.) Now on to the finishing of at least one fencing shirt...

Comments

[belfebe.livejournal.com]

Pink hair? Can't wait to see that! :-)

BTW, how is the shirt coming along?

[thanate.livejournal.com]

Well, by pink I mostly mean reddish tinted. But the last time I did this, there were kind of pink highlights on the palest streaks of blonde. Shirts are still half-done but will be better soon...

[belfebe.livejournal.com]

Cool beans

[fishy1.livejournal.com]

You can tell Steve/Brian that I lust after their Munsell color book, if you like. Those things are bloody expensive for what is essentially a notebook of dirt-colored paint chips.

ah.. memories of Dirt and Mud class... -i mean "Soils and Hydrology"

[thanate.livejournal.com]

The funny thing is that all the musell books belong to URS. But three of them came out into the field, and the one originally handed to me was really old (the back cover is mostly detached, and all the pages (7.5YR through 2.5Y at least) we're using are hopelessly smeared with dry stuff that's very hard to see colors through. And Brian got the new one, and while he hands it in at the end of the day because he doesn't carry a field pack, Steve gave it back to him this morning, let me trade up for the one that's only a little scuffed & not falling apart, and then complained when we were working together and he couldn't see the colors that well. And I pointed out it was his own fault anyway, for not giving me the good one.

I appreciate it more, anyway. And am likely to keep the new one nice longest... :)

[skittblink.livejournal.com]

I really enjoyed this entry for some reason. Something about the comparision to unmade beds to minds. Post a picture of your hair!