I thought my knee was getting better, but I was on it too long today and it’s been popping and stuff. Stupid knee. I really don’t know what’s wrong with it anymore. I want a footrest. ;_; But - and I hate to jinx myself - my toe is looking a whole lot better. Less swelling, new skin, stuff like that. Yes, it was seriously that gross. I didn’t whine about it much because yeah, that gross.

I need to do something. Ah, I know - photograph stuff to sell and get that set up. I can ship things this weekend.

Mmmm, end of the week. Three day weekend. Mmmyeah.

I’m going to have another small sale soon, books and fannish stuff. I’m still dividing things into lots to help with the shipping - it’s not a huge rush this time, so I think I will actually charge shipping. Money is nice. It makes my bank account pretty.

I’ve decided on a plan for my life. I’m going to graduate college (preferably with a doctorate), get rich, buy an island, and then win the lottery so I never have to work again. And maybe secede from the Union, just for the heck of it. I think this is an admirable plan, and certainly one worth striving for.

Mysterious Uncle: I’ve had very indirect arguments with the teacher - I read over Shan’s papers and make a fair number of punctuation changes, including the insertion of a handful of semicolons. The teacher marked him down for the semicolons. I am rather peeved - they were used correctly, using semicolons at all is a very good sign of intelligence (much as having zero is a mark of an intelligent society) and it’s just frustrating. I hate the idea of having to dumb myself down - forcing myself to read the hideous selected narratives will be hard enough. There’s one from a survivor of 9/11 that has more patriotic catchphrases and slogans in all caps than actual content. No commas, either. Shan made me read, what, the first two pages of it? It physically hurt me. I want to buy my own copy of the book just so I can scrawl derogatory comments in the margins. I won’t, but I want to. I should starting thinking of a topic for that assignment - it really cannot wait until the last minute, I suck at personal narratives. Nothing interesting has ever happened to me, really. I’m a boring person.
It reminds me of a high school class I took, actually - it was combined levels 2 and 3 (the average and advanced levels respectively) and I had unfortunately chosen level 2 for that class. It was so painfully easy that I had read the entire book by the end of the first day. We spent the rest of the semester ostensibly reading it in class - I did the worksheets and then got out my knitting, I kid you not. I actually made a pair of boots for Padfoot in that class, altering a pair of leather sandals into pleather knee-high boots. Three thimbles (I will never try to sew leather again) and a giant curved needle, and the teacher never said a word about it. I always half-expected to be told I was bringing a deadly weapon into school.

School is officially paid for and I am most absolutely officially a student. It’s so… awesome. School! Learning! New information entering my brain! Well, er, some new information. My English class will mostly be me trying to be less brilliant because my writing style is apparently not what the teacher likes. I use semicolons wrong or something, and I am way too fond of making my introductory paragraph rather, hm, non-existant. I like to jump right into the middle of things. I also start books in the middle and read outwards. Curiously, I read the Internet in a straight line - when I really settle down to read stories, I read each one from beginning to end no matter how bad it is, move on to the next in the archive, then find a link from that site to a new one and devour the next. If it branches, I follow one branch to completion and then move backwards through any sub-branches, eventually getting back to the original deviation. So, yes, English class might be slightly awkward and involve arguing with the teacher about punctuation. My semicolons are just fine, thank you very much.

I suspect I will be going “Oh wow, school! Wow, college!” for the next few years. And then bitching, because I like whining and a blog is a great place to get all that out. I have to be unendingly polite for my job, and at this point it’s been trained into me as an automatic response to being in public; I really just have to bitch sometimes. All of the time, really. I’m an unpleasant person, and having to be pleasant is taxing. I mean, honestly. I never used to smile. Or make inane comments on the weather, or listen to some old fart talking about her colostomy. I don’t mind chatting with the older folks, actually, you can tell they just want someone to talk to and they’re so nice. Except for the creepy perverts, but I perfected my method of driving them away at the 7-Eleven.

There was a convention with almost the entire main cast of BOTH Stargates. GODDAMNIT. David Hewlett never goes to conventions! I am rife with sorrow. I mean, come on. Christopher Judge took off his shirt. (Apparently he does this all the time, but hush.) And there were slash jokes, apparently. I wouldn’t know, because I wasn’t there and can’t find video footage. ARRRGH. I am such a fangirl.

I plan on bullying Shan into bringing me to see Lady In The Water today, even though I know what the dog is made of. It sounds kinda silly, but this IS Shyamalan  we’re talking about. He always has slightly silly horror stories. (I love every one of them, even though I always slightly dislike them, and I’m not sure how that works.)

And yes, I quoted the Lion King in the entry title. I can probably still recite most of that movie - and people wonder why I can’t remember anything. My long-term memory has been filled with inane things! There’s no more room!

Man, I missed David Hewlett. I’m so gonna write poetry about this and post it to my LJ. Omfg. Totally.

A Colonel is higher than a Major.
P90s are really expensive.
Magic squares.
Clarke’s law: any technology advanced enough appears to be magic.
Fibonacchi sequence.
How to guess a prime.

Today, I was putting things back on the shelves - I ran into a little old lady twice, not literally, just said hi and made sure she was finding everything alright. And the second time, just as I turned and smiled at her, she said, “You’ve lost a lot of weight. You look very nice.” I think I kinda lit up and blushed and I’m pretty sure I thanked her, and it just totally made my day. I have no idea who she was - not one of the chatty regulars, that’s for sure. I’m feeling kinda fuzzy-happy towards humanity today - blame it on lack of sleep and horomones. I’ll probably crash and be whiny and teary tonight.

Okay, let’s look at this for a minute. Tired + hot + cramps = x. x =/= grumpy. x = organization.

I already took care of my desk, the stuff under the bed, and am eyeing my boxes in the garage and the closet. (I even organized my bank statements and paystubs and papers from school into manila folders with labels. Labels.) I might even vacuum. Or I might piss off and read up on binary explosives, you never know. Or I might organize the stuff I’m going to sell on ebay! There’s a lot. I forget whatall I’m selling. I might do a Livejournal sale again, with the random Japanese manga and stuff. That worked very nicely, directly appealing to the target buyer. OHOHO. I have learned my retail well.

I made the mistake of looking at Ebay, though. Tac vests! Thigh holsters! P90s! No, not a newborn military fetish, just been staring at Stargate too long. Oh, also? SciFi is brilliant and very entertaining. Although I do want to know why they put Joe in his leather jacket (which is cut and patched to look like the Atlantis uniform) and also a tac vest. It’s like… What? Guys, leather? And tac vest? What? Also, I find it fascinating that David is in his offworld gear. Hee!

While we’re discussing funny Atlantis videos: Carter vs McKay, fight! And it wasn’t their fault it was scripted that the thing would backfire and the people would do the bodyswitch thing and the girl with the kissing and yeah. Sidenote: I didn’t recognize McKay in the Atlantis premiere at first. His hair was shorter, and it totally threw me. He used to look almost college-aged, and now he looks 40. It’s a much better look for him.

P.S. Oh good, I’m not a freak.

I think I need more sleep. My brain is swimmy. Seriously, if I’m not focusing, vision go whee. It’s cool.

The talk with the advisor went wonderfully, and as of next Monday I will officially be enrolled in college. Classes start early September, so I need to remember to change my availability at work. I’ll be down to working Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, since there is no way I’m working weekends or school days because holy shit, homework, hello. Also weekend, hello.

I’ll be taking English and Algebra (omg not algebra AGAIN but my advisor is teaching that class and she promised [threatened?] that no one fails her class and she seems like the type I can learn from, so hopefully I will survive, plus she pointed out that evening classes usually have more adults than high-school dropouts so I was like HOLY YES SIGN ME UP) and for some reason the class on Thanksgiving is not cancelled but the class the day after is. Hmm.

Also, ow, toe. Owwww. My left side is cursed, I swear. Bad knee, old break in the foot, stupid toe, not left handed, and okay my right hand is worse off than my left but that’s only because my left gave up dominance. I’m just waiting for my left eye to implode or something, make it a head-to-toe thing. Jeez.

I kinda sliced my arm open at work. Okay, that’s totally exaggerating, it’s really more of a scratch, but the damn thing wouldn’t stop bleeding. It was pretty funny. I got a customer just as I did it, so I grabbed a paper towel and interrupted the supervisor’s conversation. I’m like, “Um, hey. I’m bleeding, and I don’t want to bleed on the groceries, so could you get this order for me? Thanks.” And it just would not stop bleeding. Well, it did eventually, but it took forever. And then I had to use the alcohol wipes on it. ;_; That hurt. And then! Throughout the whole day, it kept opening up again! I’d feel a little tingle and look down and OH HEY MORE BLOOD. Good thing I bleed slow, because this scratch is like half the length of my forearm. I have no idea what I caught it on, either. Sheesh. Fortunately, I do not have any bloodborne pathogens (that I know of) and I was really good about cleaning myself up and not bleeding on stuff. Also, not talking about blood in front of customers. They tend to be disturbed by that, particularly when you’re handling their food. Understandable, but come on, the bleeding stopped! You’re fine! I don’t have smallpox!

I’m just babbling because I’m nervous. I go to talk to the advisor at school in like, now. And my toe hurts. Just… don’t ask about the toe. Seriously. I am so tired of this damn toe.