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May. 5th, 2004 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolSo, yes.
The Sasser worm is still not gone. I left explicit instructions over what to do with it for my father, since it's really not worth the hassle of me playing around with the Settings Of Doom on the family computer. Has he fixed it? Has he buggary. Ergo, I am now checking all my internet stuff at college. I will nag him into doing it tonight if it kills me. I may even get Megan on board to help.
Oh, my internet addiction is a scary thing. I just hope that I can access hotmail. It's really pissing me off - I managed it yesterday at college, dammit!
So, after my last mammoth update, I went and sorted out my bedroom. This is a rariety in itself, and since I shunted most of the furniture around, there was quite a bit of carpet that hadn't seen daylight for years. My bedrooms a hole, and I appreciate that. Meh. I'm under the age of 20 and I live with my parents. It's traditional. But it is now clean, slightly shiny, the beanbag has been relocated to the spare room and as such I now have a huge floor space (well, that's what it seems like to me... I can actually walk around!) which, admittingly, quickly got taken up by the towering figure of Miranda. My, but she's tall. And slightly manacing in the dark.
This situation was made worse by the fact I had an absolutely terrifying, apocolyptic-type dream on the Monday night, which sounds like a bad horror film when you try and describe it. I was running across the flied above my house with Dad, only it was barren and bare, with dust flying between the dying crops. We ran to a farmhouse, and Dad looks at me very seriously. "Even the dead are restless," he says quite seriously. "Something is coming."
As such, we try and run away but it doesn't work properly - these... things are following us. We have to try and get across a pond, but it's all full of blood, only we have to swim. I swim and I swim, and I made it across, and there's Dad, and he's been slashed my... something. "I'll be alright," he says, and we carry on. We get to a Church were something is getting married, only the bride and groom suddenly turn on each other and start biting and tearing at each other. So Dad and I run again, and the... things, whatever they are, were still after us. We made it home, and I lock all the doors and windows, but I know it's only a matter of time. Dad goes out into the garage, and Mum sends me out to try and get it sorted. I stand in the garage in what seems like the bright sunlight. "Dad?" I call out, and he doesn't turn around. He's standing by the garage door. "Dad?" Suddenly, the... things try and get through the back door from the garden, and I'm screaming for Dad, except he doesn't respond. They start getting through the garage double doors, and they take Dad, and I try and run back into the house, and they're there too, and I can hear screams from my Mum. And I keep on thinking "I've got to change over, I've got to change over..." as I grab hold of the shvoel and try to arm myself...
And then my alarm woke me up. I woke up in a cold sweat, with my stomach churning and I suspect I may have been crying. I curl up, and all I can hear is something padding around downstairs. Even though, logically, I knw it was Dad, I'm still feeling very befuddled and I'm desperatley trying to think of a way out. I turn over, and there's a bloody great shadowy figure standing over my bed.
At any rate, I had to lie and talk sense into myself for a full twenty minutes. I hate dreams like that. Even thinking about it is making me feel quite nervous and panicky again. I know it sounds daft, but it was... terrifying. Worst dream I've had in years.
Luckily, I didn't dream last night. This may have been because my day was spent either sitting going "eeee!" at Liz, then trying to listen to a powerpoint which I had to sort out myself because two weeks before we leave and oh yes did I mention we haven't finished the course Elaine decides to go off ill. I then went home, and revised history for three hours. This, of course, was wasted in my surprise!test for history, in which I completely forgot the stuff the test was on. It took me thirty seconds to remember that the "Oh, god... 11 years without Parliament, he told them to piss off, what was it called! Self-Rule! No... Rule of Self? No! The... er... PERSONAL RULE!" was called, which may not sound like much, but it's selven years out of the 50 or so I'm supposed to know like the back of my hand. This is a Bad Thing, I feel.
Anyway. Went to work, came home, watched Angel, felt miserable because they're determined to do away with my favourites (although some of it made me laugh: "There were worlds of intangible beauty, and of relentless horror... and there was one world all of shrimp. I did not stay there for long") and replace them with Teh Spike. I do not like Spike.
And now, after a long and slightly wierd day with a film that is incomprehensible without some form of hallucunogenic dugs, I am writing this because this journal acts as my record for later life. And now I'm off to try and finish the powerpoint thingie.
And tonight, I shall rant and rage until my computer is fixed, so that I can write fic. I may also revise. Possibly.
~Hathy_Col~
The Sasser worm is still not gone. I left explicit instructions over what to do with it for my father, since it's really not worth the hassle of me playing around with the Settings Of Doom on the family computer. Has he fixed it? Has he buggary. Ergo, I am now checking all my internet stuff at college. I will nag him into doing it tonight if it kills me. I may even get Megan on board to help.
Oh, my internet addiction is a scary thing. I just hope that I can access hotmail. It's really pissing me off - I managed it yesterday at college, dammit!
So, after my last mammoth update, I went and sorted out my bedroom. This is a rariety in itself, and since I shunted most of the furniture around, there was quite a bit of carpet that hadn't seen daylight for years. My bedrooms a hole, and I appreciate that. Meh. I'm under the age of 20 and I live with my parents. It's traditional. But it is now clean, slightly shiny, the beanbag has been relocated to the spare room and as such I now have a huge floor space (well, that's what it seems like to me... I can actually walk around!) which, admittingly, quickly got taken up by the towering figure of Miranda. My, but she's tall. And slightly manacing in the dark.
This situation was made worse by the fact I had an absolutely terrifying, apocolyptic-type dream on the Monday night, which sounds like a bad horror film when you try and describe it. I was running across the flied above my house with Dad, only it was barren and bare, with dust flying between the dying crops. We ran to a farmhouse, and Dad looks at me very seriously. "Even the dead are restless," he says quite seriously. "Something is coming."
As such, we try and run away but it doesn't work properly - these... things are following us. We have to try and get across a pond, but it's all full of blood, only we have to swim. I swim and I swim, and I made it across, and there's Dad, and he's been slashed my... something. "I'll be alright," he says, and we carry on. We get to a Church were something is getting married, only the bride and groom suddenly turn on each other and start biting and tearing at each other. So Dad and I run again, and the... things, whatever they are, were still after us. We made it home, and I lock all the doors and windows, but I know it's only a matter of time. Dad goes out into the garage, and Mum sends me out to try and get it sorted. I stand in the garage in what seems like the bright sunlight. "Dad?" I call out, and he doesn't turn around. He's standing by the garage door. "Dad?" Suddenly, the... things try and get through the back door from the garden, and I'm screaming for Dad, except he doesn't respond. They start getting through the garage double doors, and they take Dad, and I try and run back into the house, and they're there too, and I can hear screams from my Mum. And I keep on thinking "I've got to change over, I've got to change over..." as I grab hold of the shvoel and try to arm myself...
And then my alarm woke me up. I woke up in a cold sweat, with my stomach churning and I suspect I may have been crying. I curl up, and all I can hear is something padding around downstairs. Even though, logically, I knw it was Dad, I'm still feeling very befuddled and I'm desperatley trying to think of a way out. I turn over, and there's a bloody great shadowy figure standing over my bed.
At any rate, I had to lie and talk sense into myself for a full twenty minutes. I hate dreams like that. Even thinking about it is making me feel quite nervous and panicky again. I know it sounds daft, but it was... terrifying. Worst dream I've had in years.
Luckily, I didn't dream last night. This may have been because my day was spent either sitting going "eeee!" at Liz, then trying to listen to a powerpoint which I had to sort out myself because two weeks before we leave and oh yes did I mention we haven't finished the course Elaine decides to go off ill. I then went home, and revised history for three hours. This, of course, was wasted in my surprise!test for history, in which I completely forgot the stuff the test was on. It took me thirty seconds to remember that the "Oh, god... 11 years without Parliament, he told them to piss off, what was it called! Self-Rule! No... Rule of Self? No! The... er... PERSONAL RULE!" was called, which may not sound like much, but it's selven years out of the 50 or so I'm supposed to know like the back of my hand. This is a Bad Thing, I feel.
Anyway. Went to work, came home, watched Angel, felt miserable because they're determined to do away with my favourites (although some of it made me laugh: "There were worlds of intangible beauty, and of relentless horror... and there was one world all of shrimp. I did not stay there for long") and replace them with Teh Spike. I do not like Spike.
And now, after a long and slightly wierd day with a film that is incomprehensible without some form of hallucunogenic dugs, I am writing this because this journal acts as my record for later life. And now I'm off to try and finish the powerpoint thingie.
And tonight, I shall rant and rage until my computer is fixed, so that I can write fic. I may also revise. Possibly.
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2004-05-05 08:37 am (UTC)That's a hell of a dream. Really...disturbing. Don't get too freaked out by it, though. Look on the bright side: you could always sell it to Hollywood as an idea for a horror movie, and make millions!
no subject
Date: 2004-05-06 01:32 am (UTC)I am still thoroughly freaked out by my dream, and would like to go back to my usual combination of kinky/odd/indescrible, please.
no subject
Date: 2004-05-05 08:45 am (UTC)hey! Totally sympathetic to compeeh-plights.
Also wanted to get in touch with ya to plan the whole Erestor affair thingie. I figured it may happen early after the ladies are brought in, but we haven't discussed it yet. what do you think?
no subject
Date: 2004-05-06 01:37 am (UTC)The plan was that Tuilenn is pissy at Lindir, Erestor is pissy at himself and at Elrond and at the whole situation, and Stuff Happens. And it's only a few nights after the ladies are brought in. Does that work okay for you?
no subject
Date: 2004-05-06 01:09 pm (UTC)I'm gtuessing tow or three nights. You'll see Ilma is a tad... er... tuilenn-ish. be patient, she's EXTREMELY pissed off. I have two offers and cannot make my mind whether she'll hook up with Eol or with fingon- so far I think Fingon, only bc the whole high King of the Noldor might piss erestor some >:)
e-mail me on what you're thinking for the next chappie, ok?
hugs!
no subject
Date: 2004-05-05 09:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-05-06 01:39 am (UTC)Hmmm. Spades. I could have a new thing, here...