where did you sleep last night?

Strange and variable are my days.
I woke up at 2, felt sick and nervous and guilty and wanted to die. Spent two hours feeling like this before dragging myself out of bed and trying to force the cobwebs away; it took another hour and a bar of chocolate before I could feel like myself again. Does this ever happen to anyone else? I'm very worried, because that hasn't happened since I got up here. It didn't even happen when I was nervous about my laptop or my classes or my friends. And now, when everything finally seems to be going well...I don't know, maybe it's something I ate. I'm hoping it's not encroaching SADD, because I've been doing pretty well with the dark and whatnot so far. I don't want to fuck up my otherwise pleasant year so far with crying on the floor and lying half-conscious in my bed all day and wanting to stab my wrists with a fountain pen (seriously) and all the other emo crap I went through last year. That wouldn't be fun. No on the hopeless self-doubt and alienation, please.
I did take the precaution of making a special "it's almost winter and everything is dead and sad" playlist. It's mostly comprised of Nick Drake and Nirvana, my two favorite folk-fusion artists who killed themselves. Nice music to cheer up to! But really, if I'm going to be depressed for no reason at all, I'm going to let myself wallow in it a little. I was horribly angsty and pathetic and in denial last year. "Oh, no, I'm not depressed! Depression is for either angsty emo kids, one of which I am not, or people who have real problems, which I don't have!" Ha. Psych prof says that depression is "the common cold of mental disorders." Perfect, then give me some chicken soup and someone to listen to me and I'll be all right.
God, do I love Nick Drake. I just remembered how great he is. Haven't listened to anything by him for months. Even joined an LJ community. I feel like making Nick Drake mix CDs and sending them out to people. I think I'm going to have him as my dead possibly gay boyfriend. (Seems everyone has one of those except me.) I feel like painting wispy watercolors of dead trees or something.

Good things? Well, Vampire went unusually well for me. Last week, I'd gotten very frustrated about the fact that there was nothing for me to do in the game, so a girl named Jen, who'd just gotten back in from a vacation, took me under her wing and got me involved in a plot. There's been a sickness going around the Vampire community, you see, and we suspected the existence of a plague-carrier vampire called a Morbus.
Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to poke around the casino (represented by a classroom, as all things are) and see if we could find a freaky sick-looking vampire. Now, this is where I shone. My character has very high investigation levels, something she needs in her job as a tabloid reporter, something she hasn't been able to use so far for fear of offending other vampires with her nosiness. (Offending a vampire with higher status than you can often mean death, and I don't want this character to die just yet.) Combined with "wits" and "empathy" and other such powers (and some very high draws), she was able to spot the Morbus and track him down so that the more physically inclined vampires could beat his infected ass.
...until the bomb went off, of course. What was a bomb doing in a vampire casino? I have no idea. The Storyteller just, you know, put it there. Because he is a DICK.
But I got mad props and accolades and a few people even voted for me as the game's best player. And my confidence is built up to the point where I may start doing a little investigating on my own. I'm planning on trying to prove that the head of the Lancea Sanctum, the "Christian" vampire group, is in fact in league with the Inverted, who are rogue vampires that are more evil, if such a thing is possible, than regular vampires. Why am I doing this, you ask? Because it might be interesting. The Lancea Sanctum has been stirring up a lot of shit lately, hunting down people who don't agree with them, and it'd be fantastically satisfying to see the bastard responsible staked and left for the sun.

Need to call Dad and see if he'll let me stay in an apartment with Storm next year. Crossfingers. On one hand, it's an apartment, and I don't know how close it is to campus, and I'm already just barely able to take care of myself in the rather maternal atmosphere of the dorms as it is. On the other hand, it's with Storm, and I do like her. (Phone number. YES.) It will have to hinge on my Dad's willingness to help me out with the rent, because I don't think I have enough of my own to pay for even a few months' worth. Especially because I can't seem to find a job for next semester. I have tried, oh have I tried. Every place that takes less than 30 minutes to get to on foot is Not Hiring. If Dad wanted me to find a job so badly that he'd threaten to stop paying my tuition if I didn't get one, he should have told me this in no uncertain terms at the beginning of the semester instead of waiting until November, when all the jobs are taken. Even the cafeteria doesn't want me...or, at least, the idiots who make up the work schedules only want me during the hours I actually have class. Class takes precedence. Obviously.

Rented "Happiness" on dr_ninjapants's very, very vague recommendation. At least, he mentioned the movie and "crying for your mommy" in the same sentence. I take that as an endorsement. Sunday is reserved for writing at the Kaya and doing my German homework during Adult Swim, so this will have to be put off until Monday night. I cannot wait to see this.

La la la, nothing profound or interesting here today, folks. Move along. That's all.

come listen to my story 'bout a sandwich named Jed!

Just got the Visual Thesaurus CD that fugaciouslover bought for me. A thousand thank you's! This program is very, very cool, and is much closer to the way I see words than your average list-format thesaurus. I've been playing with it all day. Super-useful.
diraskyria took off to escort her map-making boyfriend to the Band Geek Strutter's Ball, so I'm sitting here in the Kaya with 200 words done after 2 hours. BLEAH. DO NOT LEAVE ME, MUSE-TYPE PEOPLE.
So here are the questions she asked me. This is pretty much the last set, so someone will have to give me some more survey things to do when I'm procrastinating. Anything, man.

1. You're trapped in a room with metal walls, no windows, no doors. All that exists besides yourself and the room is a table and a mirror. How do you get out?
I would pick up the table and use it to smash the mirror. There would be a tunnel behind the mirror, which I could then crawl into and emerge on the other side into whatever happens to be there. It would probably be a room of scientists who were watching me through the mirror in a psychological test of some sort. "Hi scientists," I would say, "I've gotten out of the room. Can I have a food pellet now?"

2. The Fiction Collective (including the mysterious disappearing members) are dropped onto a desert island where they must kill each other, ala Battle Royale. Who wins?
ME. No, really, I think either you or Casey Seiter would win. Casey's a bad-ass. Kind of. Well, he writes about bad-ass things, which is close enough. And honestly, most of the other guys in the group are scrawny wimpy writers who sit and play video games all day. I mean, you sit and play video games all day, but you grew up on a farm and go camping and stuff, so you'd probably know all sorts of little survival tricks that the rest of us wouldn't know, and you could set up traps. The rest of us wouldn't even die of killing each other, we'd just die of starvation. I'd be wandering around looking for a chai tea bush to hide under.
The thing is that I keep not being able to remember anyone's name that's new. I know them, I just forget their names. So, I could say, "Well, I think the guy that wrote the story about the windmill would win," or "That one guy that never really says anything serious, which is kind of everyone anyway," but I don't really know very much about their survival skills. Maybe our 26-year-old with the sticky-out ears would win because he is older. I don't know.

3. (easy one) John, Jim, or Danny?
Since you haven't given any last names, I'm assuming that you mean John Lennon, Jim Morrison, or Danny Elfman--musicians, a common thread. (You could have meant Jim Cross, but he's not a musician, he's a scarred, amoral, badass with magical tattoos.) And you're right, this is easy. As much as I like the Doors and think Jim Morrison is absolutely cool, I'm not such an obsessive fan as I am of the Beatles or of Oingo Boingo.
It's harder to choose between John and Danny. John Lennon is a longstanding hero of mine, but Danny is pretty much my latest musical obsession. I could do a long compare/constract chart, but that wouldn't really prove anything besides the fact that you can draw parallels between the careers of any two given people.
Going on the strength of solo careers alone, Danny. In my opinion, the Beatles peaked with "Revolver" and John peaked with the White Album. Most of what I've heard of his solo/Yoko stuff are songs that would be good, but normal political pop if they weren't recorded by a Great Musical Icon. He really did work best with the other Beatles around to support and temper him.
In contrast, Danny's work pretty much took off like a rocket after Boingo disbanded. Not that Boingo was holding him back or anything, but there's not a great deal of room in any given rock band for sweeping orchestral scores, unless you happen to be the Moody Blues. Plus, you know, his soundtracks for Tim. (Ah, Danny and Tim...)
It'd be fun to compare Boingo with the Beatles, but that's a music spooge for another day.

4. What's your favourite colour? Any reason why?
I like green, and I've always liked green. I like the soothing, cooler end of the spectrum, but blue is too stark of a primary color for me, untempered by the heat of its warmer cohorts. Purple is my second favorite, but the addition of fiery red to the blue can often be a little overwhelming for me. Purple is good in small doses. Ironically, I can't stand the color yellow on its own.
Green is the color of life, of things growing and changing and thriving. Zombies are green because they have too much life.

5. If I were to run off and create my own Utopian society in the middle of the woods somewhere, would you come join me, or would you rather remain all snug in psuedo-capitalism? ^_^
I would definitely come join you, because that sounds like fun, and I'm not looking forward to the whole careerist rat race. Capitalism works quite well, but only if you're prepared to work harder than anybody else to succeed, and I'm kinda lazy...and I can totally respect the idea of private property being sacrosanct, but I myself don't mind sharing. I'd probably go badger everyone I liked to join, though, so your commune would have to be prepared to handle a sudden influx of people that are actually nerdier than you and who have fewer survival skills.
I'd probably go on a wild spending spree and liquidate all of my dirty lucre into new books and batteries (would you have electricity on this Utopia?) before I went, but after that...well, the things I spend the most money on are books, anyway. If I got enough books, I'd never have to buy another book again.
I really think living in a pastoral Utopia would be nice, in a silly Romantic kind of way.