Is it the size, or the shape?

Or the pounding bassline?

10 points if you know the episode.

Anyways, speaking of bassline, Alex and I were jammin last night, and we had this opening bassline stuck in our heads like

dundundundundundundundun dodododod dndndndn

And we could not remember for the life of us what song it was from, but we knew that it was something we had heard before, and many a time. So we sat for a good twenty minutes, she with her thinking cap on, and me going "It's a wrock song, I know it is! No maybe it's Weezer. No, the Pixies. No, it has to be wizard rock."

And while she eventually found that she had been thinking of The Kaiser Chiefs "When we were young" this did not wholly sate my curiosity.

But this morning I realized it was the opening baseline from Wizard Chess by Harry and the Potters.

Ha! Take that, world!

We also wrote the best/most obnoxious song ever. It is called "Saturday Service." It's about the bus.

I hope some day that I can post it for your listening displeasure.

For the people who are still alive.

This is a Wrock post!

But first, allow me to briefly talk about sandwiches.

I have discovered the secret to making the finest grilled tuna sandwiches west of the Mississip. Prior to this discovery, I had a serious grilled tuna problem: It took a very short time for the cheese to melt, but quite a long time for the tuna to become entirely heated.

The solution?

Warm the tuna in the microwave for exactly 43.5 seconds prior to placement on the bread. Then, in a frying pan on medium-low heat, put the cheese side down first. Let the cheese melt and the bread get crispy-good, and then flip until bread is crispy on opposite side.
It is so simple I can't believe I didn't think of it before.

Today's sandwich:

-Whole Wheat Bread
-Tuna (mixed with mayo, cut up snow peas, dilly dip and feta cheese)
-Kraft singles (Oh you shudder, but this is heaven)

Lovingly grilled to perfection and served with chicken soup. Truly Alison Day is a day of Kings.

Now, on to the Wrock!

The band I attempted to start previous to The Violent Puffskeins was called "The Wet Blankets and One Very Lonely Marauder." This is, indeed, a Shoebox reference. The thing about the band was that I started writing songs after reading Shoebox, and they were all related in some way, to the events of Shoebox.

I got all excited about it, and then I scrapped the band for these reasons:

-It wasn't entirely canon. I didn't want to start some sort of horrible Paranthropus Wrock movement, where soon people would be creating bands based on their horrible Mary-Sues. I do not want to be responsible for that shit.
-Most of the songs I had written didn't really have that many canon references in them, which I find is a staple of Wrock music. They were mostly conceptual, and about feelings. Well, some songs had direct references to Shoebox in them, but not everyone considers that canon, so...

Anyways, I still like the songs I wrote, and I feel like it's a waste for them to sit around, so I thought I would post them here from time to time.
Take note: these songs won't make too much sense if you haven't read shoebox. Or Harry Potter for that matter.

This song takes place in the summer of 1976, (Part Thirteen) while Remus is keeping his dream diary, and trying to figure out his shit. That's mostly what the song is about. That and Sirius.
If it sounds kind of twangy, it's because I suck at guitar, and if the singing is bad, that's only because I'm bad at singing. Enjoy!

This is Not Rational but Oh Well

And for those who don't want to hear about fictional boy-love in the 1970's, here is that song about burning all my files to CD because my hard drive died. IT'S SAD OKAY.

300 Gigabytes

(And I urge everyone to download the Portal soundtrack and to listen to "Still Alive.")

I solemly swear I will use up my stash.

I HAVE COME TO A DECISION.

I solemly swear, on my favorite yellow 7mm straights, due to rent and tuition, that I am not going to purchase any more yarn (save for Cascade for the S.L.A.) until I have at least some type of incoming cash flow. Yes, that's right. It's all working with what I got from here on out. And since, as we've already seen, what I've got is quite a lot, this shouldn't be a problem.
---

In other knitting knews, I am almost finished the mohawk toque for my brothers (very much passed) birthday. I will post pics when it is finished. It's in the wash right now, hopefully felting quite successfully. I am a bit concerned about it, because while it is 46% wool and 15% alpaca, it's also 39% acrylic. I could be totally screwed, re: the essential mohawkian fringe.

Hopefully it all works out.

There's quite a bit of bulky red and black Van Dyck left over from it, and I am considering making some seriously heavy duty mittens. Though I do have other mitten plans for the leftovers of my Stupidly Large Afghan. I want to make a pair of these but instead of orange and yellow, I want to use as much as my leftover yarn as possible (so, all eight colors) using the grey from the border as the main color. Fair Isle fun for everyone!

Self Deprecation: Learn it, Love it.

Have you ever found something that's meant to be humorous, except it reflects you so accurately that it's really just sad?

Long story short, (Short story shorter) I was browsing the latest McSweeney's Lists and I found this:

---

Titles of Love Songs I Would Write for People Like Me.
BY KATHY SALERNO
- - - -
"A Friend Again, Naturally"

"Hopelessly Inexperienced Sexually"

"Mind Boyfriend's Back"

"Wishing, Hoping, Checking Your MySpace Relationship Status"

"Never Gonna Ask You Out, Never Gonna Make My Move"

"Give Me Just a Little More Time (By Then You'll Surely Be Dating Someone Else)"

"Are You That Anybody?"

"Let's Give Them Something to Prove I'm Straight"

---

Har Har.

In other news, I am still CD-Mix crazy! After Monday, when the Writ203 swap is complete, I will post the tracklistings for my two mixes, and possibly pics of the cover art as well. (Ooh la la)

Am still working on my mix for the SA Mix-CD Swap. I was going for mellow but it seems to be coming off a bit depressing. I tried to kick it up in the middle with some Weezer but alas, there may be further revamping required. It's going to be headed for some lucky fellow in Tennessee, and I don't want to bum him out.

Earwax Buddha

This post is not about knitting, wrock or writing.

Well...it's kind of about writing.

A few days ago, a very wise lady called me at about midnight and told me that all art is masturbation.
She said (and I hope I'm getting this right) that literature, television, film, and all the rest, are just ways to indulge ourselves, with the end result being that we ignore all of the terrible things going on in the world, for the sake of self-titillation.

I thought a lot about that concept. About the basic statement.

All Art is masturbation. (This, of course, does not work in the reciprocal.)

And I came to a conclusion about my own view of art, and life, and society:

I think art is a hospice.
I think the world is an incurable knot of cancerous tissue. Humanity is this rancid canker sore that gets bigger and bigger, churning out true-life horror and pain.

But if the world is a tumour, then art is the palliative care unit.
We make you comfortable until it's your time to go. We provide clear-cut heroes and villains, and structure that doesn't exist in life. We let you achieve themes of beauty, truth and love that are, at best, only subjectively acheived in reality.
And we provide humour, because if you ever thought about all the awful crap going down in the world, it probably wouldn't end well. We need humour to temper the absolute abomination of humanity.

So we should take comfort in art because it's everything we aspire to and may never acheive.
--
After writing all this out for said wise lady, I immediately scared the crap out of myself. I have no idea how I got to be this cynical. I remember being in high school and thinking that true love was out there, and that everything would be kittens and rainbows forever. But I just don't seem to think that anymore.

Maybe it was all state of mind. Because I know when I'm walking home from the 14 stop, and the breeze is slight but just right, and the cherry petals are drifting down like confetti from a ticker tape parade, I think the world is beautiful.

I guess I'm not really sure what I think.

Sandwhat?

Whilst writing that last post, I was eating a fabulous sandwich that I feel obligated to tell you about:

-Whole Wheat Bread
-Dilly Dip
-Mediterranian Turkey Meatloaf
-Avacado
-Red Pepper
and
-Lettuce

I wish I had put feta in it.

(Baha! I feel like Jane Espenson!)

Things I have Knit

And here we are, finally. A (nearly) chronological, (not especially) comprehensive list of things I have knit, since I first began to knit, lo those two summers ago.

I apologize in advance for extreme myspace angles. I assure you that displaying the knitwear was my main goal.

We begin out tour with the first scarf I ever knit. And, incidentally, the first anything I'd ever knit. I started this in grade 11, though I didn't really get into knitting until the summer of 2006. It has gone by many names. When it began, it was "How ugly can I make this scarf until my current boyfriend refuses to wear it?" Of course, I never got past two stripes, so we never found out.

When I started it up again, the summer after my first year at university, it became "The Break-up Scarf" or "How to knit your feelings into something amazingly hideous." Later that summer it was re-dubbed "The Rambaldi Scarf" because I worked on it while watching the entire run of Alias, and found that like the plot of Alias, my scarf had many holes.

It is also obscenely wide, and in the photo above, you can see a prominent scarf tumour.

My first hat! Made from a pattern I got at uptown yarns in Courtenay, and meant to be knitted in Colinette Prism. I love this hat, I wear it every winter. My mom made the pom-pom for it, but I thought it was too big and so I tried to cut it down but I made it lopsided and I got so frusterated that I almost started to cry because "I had ruined it"

Now I didn't knit this, My mom did. But it is the pattern and hat that encouraged me to begin knitting, since it is so absolutely fabulous a hat. Unfortunately I don't wear it as much as I liked, because it is knit out of Lopi, which I had a brief love affair with before realizing that it is SO FUCKING ITCHY. This leaves us all with the promininent question of, "If it is so itchy, why did you continue to make scarves out of it."

Example One: Made with leftovers and some new colors, to match my monkey hat.

Caption: I PISS ON VOLDEMORT. I TOOK A PISS ON VOLDEMORT.


Example the second: I was so excited about the concept for this scarf, how it would look like christmas and snow and stained glass. Unfortunately, like its Lopi breathren, it is so unbelievably itchy. A shame.

One of my great "Start at one point and then finish half a year later" projects. I actually knit this halfway through second year and pinned it to a towel to block it and then folded up the towel and didn't actually get around to blocking it until the following summer. I AM ON TASK.

My legs!
Up High: Legwarmers knit in XMas '06. I was so pleased about these. This is a shitty picture, but there are some much more racy ones of me trying to get a better angle. They are surely NSFW.

Down Low: A Very Tall Sock of which I have only knit one. The reason? I made the foot too short, and this, to me, is something so unfixable that I gave up. Also, they take for god damn ever, and I will need some kind of garter to hold them up. I don't even know where to get that.

My Tosca Scarf! Started Summer of '07, Finished Xmas of '07. I like it because it reminds me of grapefruits, and it is soft. Not Itchy!

I spent the better part of several Star Wars D20 sessions knitting this up. Sweatermaker yarn, baby cable rib, started out to be a neckwarmer and ended up a hat! Oh, the places you'll go.


My mohawk toque! I love it so. I wish I had knitted it at the start of Winter rather than the end. referred to by others as the "Trojan soldier guy" hat, or the "Pony mane hat." Knit with Noro. I picked the colors because it reminds me of 90's sweatwear. Do not ask. Also my first attempt at felting...which went interestingly. I am knitting a black/red version of this for my brother's birthday present, which he is patiently awaiting.

If anyone knows where I could obtain a mannequin head or hair-stylist dummy, do let me know, I don't have anywhere proper to put this when it's not being worn.


Yeah -- That's right. I partook in some Gillyweed on top of the Astronomy Tower last night. I'd like to see Filch prove it. You tell anyone and I'll mess you up so hard you'll pass out a Ravenclaw and wake up a Hufflepuff.


This made me laugh endlessly last night. ENDLESSLY.

Essay? What Essay?

My two greatest fears are mediocrity and death.

Please exploit this information as you see fit.

---

Today I actually did something relatively productive in terms of my Stupidly Large Afghan. I finally found the right shade of blue.

I like that the ladies at Boutique de Laine are a bit nicer than those at Beehive. When I came in they were all "Oh, the Cascade girl is here again" in very droll tones. But they didn't question my knitting aptitude, and that is something.

So now all I have to do is:

-three more orange squares
-the blue squares
-the pink squares
-block
-decide on pattern
-assemble
-and knit/block/attach the border.

I aim to be finished by 2009. We shall see.

The border will probably be much more difficult than I am presuming it to be.

I am intending to submit my SL Afghan pattern to Knitty, so I will have to take some prime photos of it in use, however, I've never really written a pattern before, so that could be a big stumbling block.

At some point I intend to take pictures of all my finished knitworks, and post them here.

Look forward to it!

Elegy for a Kitty

I do so love Spring.

Today I was going to post the song I made up about burning my files to DVD because of how I my external hard-drive (containing 300GB of TV!) died, however, if I am going to pay tribute to anything, there is something much more important that must first be mentioned.

Last month, my cat, Blackie, died. I was upset about it, because I've had her since grade two, and no one really cared about her as much as I did. I don't want to go into detail, cause I'm not about airing my laundry on the internet.

Anyways, today I made up a song about her, and I wanted to share it.

Blackie's Song

I tried to find a picture of her but I don't have any on my computer.

(Also I am sorry that there is a really flat note near the end. I told you, I am no good.)

I hope this post hasn't been utterly depressing. I assure you, there are knitting hijinx ahead.

Your Bones Got a Little Machine

I have this urge, all of the sudden, to get my fingers in as many pies as possible.

I am certain this can be taken lewdly. To clarify, I do not mean any sort of saucy sex-pie. Rather, I am talking about creative writing-pies.

I have this urge to do as much writing as I possibly can. Anything I can do, any project that will take me. All the experiences I've had so far this year, like the writing workshop, and FIND, and the directing scene have had one definite result:

I am thirsty for production. I am positively parched to see my writing come alive, whether it be through theatre, film, radio, anything really. I am absolutely fascinated with the way that directors and actors work together to make things better and more layered than you ever thought they could be!



I feel like the more I do, the more I can learn about my writing, and hopefully I can just continue to improve more and moreso.

Anyhow, Pies, and my fingers being in them. Try to pretend that made any sense what-so-ever.

I did not knit that pie, it is from the internets.

I thought it apt.

Good Morning

I thought that I would post a poem. I'm not usually a big poetry fan (aside from Dorothy Parker) but I wrote this for the poetry section of Writ 100, and I found it last night as I was puttering through my files. It nicely sums up my feelings about knitting, and the catharsis therein. Hurrah!
It gets a bit "salty salty tears of pain and angst" at the end.
--
Yarn Tales

i'm knitting a story
each row is a sentence
each thread is a word
and i am the writer.

i'm repenting
in brightly colored wool
and as i slide my stitch
a sin, over
from one needle to the other
i am absolved.

each quick click is a feeling,
a plotline, a character
woven out of me, slid past
the plastic taptapping
a clear cathartic rhythm,
exorcising my demons
and trapping them
in knotted cotton holes

i'm knitting my biography
my mistakes, my words, my sins,
into something i can wear
instead of feel
--
HarHar, poetry! What is the deal with bears. Anyways.

I have something else for you too. Something you won't necessarily want.

Here are two (poor) covers of songs that may or may not be about me in the first place.
(I'm 99% sure they are not)

Dear sirs,
I am sorry that I broke your songs.

Look, all I can tell you is that when I woke up at 3 a.m., and couldn't sleep, and needed something to do so that I could, at a later time, actually get to sleep, this was hilarious.

The Violent Puffskeins

Howdy. Two posts in one day. My my, I am a-bloggin'.

I just thought I should point out where I currently stand in the wide world of Wizard Rock.
After several failed bands and poorly-thought out concepts, I am now one-half of Punk-Wrock band 'The Violent Puffskeins.'

We play loud, we wrock hard, and we tear up the establishment. Our music is inspired mostly by The Ramones. If one is curious about the mostly-false history of the band, it can be found at Alex's blog.

However, it is unfortunate that before we can truly delve into the great wealth of Pottery that awaits us, there are several important things I must do:

-Purchase an electric guitar. I am told that one can buy a reasonably priced Epiphone at Long and McQuade, and I am also told that I want to buy an Epiphone so damn, I will have to get on that. If anyone has any advice for my Guitar-Buyery, please do chime in.

-Learn to play Ramones-style punk guitar. Currently can only do passable folk guitar. This must change. Especially if our wrock cover of 'Rockaway Beach' is ever to properly take off.

-Not listen to the Ramones when so I'm tired that, during the song "Glad to see you go" I do not mistake the line 'Gonna take a chance on her' for 'Gonna take a jizz on her.'

-Figure out how to create a decent bassline using music software. I've got drums down okay but the bass guitar still eludes me.

And those are things I must do. Woo!

In other news, this post seems unproductive, so here is a songy:

I made this up for a jam session with my brother and his roomies. It is about them, because they live in a loft, play RockBand, and sometimes seagulls poop on their skylight.

Loft Song for Loft-Livers

I would just like to preface (postface?) this, and any other music post, with the fact that I really enjoy playing music and making up ditties, though I am aware I am not very good.
I find that the way I enjoy my own music equates to how some people enjoy the smell of their own (if you'll excuse my crudeness) flatulence.

My head feels like a massive pulsating citrus fruit.
Adieu.

Stash Post

In which I chronicle my massive yarn stash, and ponder what to do with it. Especially since, as previously mentioned, one-third of this blog is meant to be a knitting blog, and I have yet to post anything decidedly knitterly.

Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that no one truly cares about knitting to the degree and depth that the knitter themself does. So I warn you, this may get boring.

Aside from that, my only advice is to hold on to your fucking hats, it's knitting stash time.


The aforementioned Stash


These are all poor, lost, yarny souls. Bits and pieces of previous projects looking for a cozy garment home. From left to right, they once belonged to: My very first pair of socks, A hat for my dad (which he picked out the pattern for himself, and wears constantly, causing other people to be embarassed to be seen with him in public), a bag I knitted last summer, the remnants of my knucks, of Meghan's knucks, of Logans knucks, of Logans hat, of my Mohawk toque, and of another toque. (Baby Cable Rib ftw!)


Sirdar Juniper:
Bought during my first visit to Boutique du Laine. Knit half a scarf out of it until it occurred to me that I have already knit a lot of scarves and that this yarn has the potential to be so much more.
Like these.


Freedom Spirit:
Originally purchased for yet another pair of knucks, of which I have now knit five pairs. While I do really like knucks, and this yarn, it's future home is a cuddly little one of these guys for my Dad's Birthday.


Magallanes:
100% hand dyed wool from Chile! Bought on a whim because of the beautiful colors. I really don't know what to make of it. Probably a hat of some sort.


Rowan Felted Tweed:
Ah, the tweed. The yarn used in the original knucks pattern, I was dying to get my hands on this stuff when I made my first pair of knucks. I was, however, stuck in the valley, where between the two (amazing!) yarn shops, neither had any, so, I had to settle for Freedom Spirit.
Now having used both, it turns out that the Freedom Spirit makes much warmer, stretchier, cozier knucks than the tweed.

Do not know what will become of the tweed. Probably some sort of multimedia cozy.


Indigo Moon
Sock yarn from Gabriola. Color: Northern Steppes. Got this last Christmas. Started knitting a sock with it only to realize that I don't wear home-knit socks enough (only when I am truly in need of cozy feet) to knit myself a pair of socks with this gorgeous stuff.

But I have other plans! The Spring issue of Knitty just came out, featuring these bad boys. Not only will it be my first try at a real lace pattern, but I am hoping that the colors of the yarn will give the gloves the look of fish scales. And, since the yarn naturally has subtle rainbows running through it, it may just remind us of our favorite aquatic childhood primadonna: Rainbow Fish!


Berroco Optik:
Coming to us from France, this stuff is rad because it has like four different textures, a great color scheme, and some metallic-y bits running through it. I can't wait to do something with it, but I am not sure what yet.

This is my problem: I fall so in love with yarn that I feel no pattern could ever do it justice.


SRK Candyfloss:
Another Christmas aquisition. Very soft and fluffy. Waiting for me to find the perfect lace pattern so that I can try my hand and then inevitably get frusterated and have to do something else for a while.


Confetti 100 Superwash Cotton:
This here is sock yarn that my roommate picked out for her birthday (Last June) when I told her that, as her present, I would knit her these socks before continuing with anything else on my "To Knit" list.

HAH. I am a liar.


Colinette Prism:
This yarn hung out in Uptown Yarns in downtown Courtenay the summer after first year. Every time I went in there to check shit out, I stared at it. I gaped. I drooled a bit. It's so dreamy. And yet, I cannot think of anything that I will wear/use enough to make it's amazingosity worthwhile.

I just simply do not know. Back to the drawing board.


Colinette Point 5:
I love Colinette yarns. That aside, I knit half a scarf out of this until I realized that I only had enough to knit half a scarf. Depressing. That was in second year. Where does the time go.

Someday this will become something amazing. Very possibly something felted.
Ooh, that's a good idea. I will look into that.


Colinette Giotto:

This yarn knows what it is going to be. Someday, it will be a drop-stitch scarf. Honest, I have the pattern and everything.

----

My God. If anyone out there is still with me, how are you not bored out of your bloody skulls? And where is your hat? I said hold on to it. Bah!

Anyhow, if you enjoyed this, please looking forward to future knitting posts such as "Things I am knitting", "Things I have knitted", "Things I want to knit", and "Why are the old ladies at the knitting store so mean to me?"

Rebels in the Night

There comes a point in every friendship where you realized you are wearing the exact same socks, and that it is weird, because you already have so much in common. When that point is reached, it is only natural to collaboratively write a song about it.

From up-and-coming Indie band, "Rebels in the Night," please enjoy our first single: 'The Same Socks'

Hey, Listen!

That's Rebels in the Night,
With Alison on Guitar,
and Meg on Small Tupperware Container Full of Rice.
We are artists!
Unfortunately, if we don't want to die of starvation during our next spurt of writer's block, we will be out one maraca.

Mission Statement

I forgot to mention what I intend to do on my own little home in the blogosphere. For all intents and purposes, the intent and purpose of this blog is for me to:

-post some of my writing, and my adventures therein, my hopes, fears, relishes, mustards, &c. &c.

-write about my adventures in Wizard Rock: failed bands, current bands, opinions, possibly post bits of music.

-probably end up discussing television, and recommending my favorite shows.

-write about knitting! My current projects, past projects, most desired-to-be-doing projects, and to try to find something to do with my disasterously large stash. (Which I could never part with, no-way, no-how.)

So there you have it. In this cozy corner of the bloggable internet, one can find stories of my trials and tribulations in the fields of writing (for stage and screen), knitting (for myself and others) and wizard rockery (and possibly other less wizardly music.)

Why life is kinda rad.

Today something Very Neat happened to me.

Backstory: About two months ago, I decided to walk three blocks to the left, to make my first visit to Boutique de Laine, the yarn shop on Estevan Avenue.



The goal of this adventure was choose the proper shade of blue for my Stupidly Large Afghan. So, as any adept knitter might do, I brought a little sample of the colors I was already using: Red, Yellow, Green, Teal and Purple, so that I could make sure said shade of blue would fit appropriately into my chromatic scheme. Tough stuff, people. Difficult shit.

So I had my five little strings of yarn all tied together, in my bag, ready to sample.

In the end, I couldn't choose a proper blue so I put it off and bought some orange instead, but when I got home I never managed to take the yarn bits out of my bag.



Cut to: Like, a week later, I guess. I have no concept of time passing. It's unforunate. Anyways, for the first time in all winter, it's gorgeous out. Sun making green grass seem greener and all that. Sunlight always seems to flow through you like good energy. So for the first time in forever, the sun is out, and I can finally go take some of those generally unremarkable macro nature shots I enjoy so much. Because I really do enjoy it. There's this moment before the shutter shuts where everything goes so crisp and clear on the LCD screen that something a little bit electric runs through you.

Oh, here. There's a date on the photographs. It was January 27th. That was three months ago. Wow.

Anyways, I decided to explore the other side of the path over Bowker Creek. The one on the opposite side of Royal Jubilee. You'd never notice when you're walking past, to or from the 14 bus stop, but the lines of trees that parallel the path make a tunnel. That's some Harry Potter shit, right there. So I walk around, snap my pictures, and think about how much I love Spring.



Now here's the part that happened today:

Once again: Gorgeous day out. I'm on the bus home from the class I'm partially skipping out on, and partially going home sick from. I love riding the bus when the sun is out. It's feels like I'm the only person riding, and the whole space just gets bigger. Like the light comes in and heats it up, expanding the metal, and the fresh air flows straight in one window and out the other. Yeah, I'm on a bus, but somehow I'm outside, too. Close enough to touch the pavement. Even though this is one of my favorite Victoria phenomena, I got off the bus one stop early to walk through the tree tunnel. Not that I'd gone back since that first time.

This is the fantastic, amazing part: I'm halfway down the tunnel when something colorful on the ground catches my eye. And I stoop down to look because, of course, it is colorful, and I am me.

By now you obviously know what it is. It was my yarn sample! Sitting in the middle of the path, chilling out, covered in pine needles and bits of nature debris. But finding it there gave me this inexplicable feeling of existance, like, "Yes, I do exist. I am very much existing and leaving little bits of yarn all over the place." It was wonderful.



Unfortunately, as I write this, I realize what has happened. I've dropped a piece of string. I've dropped a
piece of string, on the ground, in the woods, and now I'm making a big fucking deal about it like it's the
second coming.

I kind of feel like a douche.

But! I do not lie. In that moment, it was amazing. I found a little piece of myself somewhere that I didn't expect, and for once, I actually felt like I had made an imprint on something. On the world. On the ground, with colored bits of string.

---

Don't worry. Angel and Spike think I'm crazy too.