(no subject)

Mac called me from the middle of the Atlantic to inform me that I was not updating with the "ninja skillz" I ought to have. I don't know if I should feel loved, insulted, worried or angry. I think I can wibble and that will nicely sum up everything.

*wibbles*

So, it seems that I really have lost Mac to the foreign hinterlands of Italy. Italy of all ungodly places! I'm so glad he went, and I miss him already. Not that he should come back- no, he should stay there, and I will come and visit in the summer. I have my ticket, and I expect to be picked up at the airport.

In other news, (news which is not really interesting, but none the less is disturbing enough to share) I watched Escaflone last night. (That isn't the disturbing part. I'm getting to that.)

The villain in this show is Draco. Really. He is. He's got the white hair, the evilness, the voice of a slimy 12 year old git of a villain- the whole nine yards. Unfortunately, it's more of a cannon "Draco is evil" representation, or I would totally have the next big thing for all faigirls to squee about.

The hero, (by the name of Vaughn) has messy black hair, green eyes, and wears a red shirt. He isn't Harry, but he sure looks like him.

(You know you're a pathetic little fangirl #715, when you watch random shows and find Harry, Charlie, Draco, Hermione and other assorted members of the cast in it.)

However- Bibi is not a Harry Potter fangirl, and she saw it too.

Also- the song "Friend" that was a music video at the end, was the Harry/Draco slash theme. It's all rather creepy, that it is.

(no subject)

Mogget is crashing with alarming regularity today. It appears that I am asking too much of my poor over clocked little laptop. I will ask less in the future. In any case, I shall reconstruct my brilliantly lyrical post with it's musings about language and childhood and the beauty of memory. Only most likely I won't because that would require thinking, and on days when it's overcast, I abhor thinking as a matter of principal.

I think I dreamed in French last night. It's a handy explanation for why I found myself trying to take Chemistry notes in a language I haven't spoken in fifteen years.

I spoke French (Ok, Haitian if you want to get all technical about it.) as a very small child. I haven't spoken it much since then- I mean, isolated phrases come in handy when you accidentally call Quebec, but other than that, not at all.

I am used to having days when I have to translate everything to Spanish. I'm quick, and here, no one really thinks twice about a few Spanish terms thrown into a conversation. On the other hand, southwestern United States do not breed French speaking ex-patriots, and I got a few odd looks today.

Mostly, it's just odd.