March 3rd, 2005

Hearth

Thor's Day

Administration
Happy birthday to servermonkey and solcita!

Hello to new readers bound_gagged and gernboken!

Medical
Exhaustion, nausea, tongue thick & tingly, etc. Started Topamax last night just before bed; no interesting new effects noticed yet. EDIT: Wow. BITCHSLAP of exhaustion. And my face hurts.

Birthday Remnants
Got really exhausted and overstimulated in the afternoon, but overall, still a really great birthday. :) I'm nowhere near finished downloading all of those songs, either!

Pictures
'Gnome gave me a disc of all of the pics, so I can pick out which ones he should b&w for me, etc. It is a DVD, so it didn't work on my computer; it's a gig of pics, so it broke Adam's iPhoto. So Adam's burning it to two CDs for me today, so I can pick out pics on my computer, which has greater capacity. What I am saying is: soon.

I'm going to have some new photo icons, too, I can tell you *that* already...

I *heart* 'gnome.

Today
I need to write stuff down else I'll forget it!

I must pay bills, write (overdue) column, and clean house. Before I indulge myself in reading. *firm nod*
Writing - photo

Sex!

So! The sexual state of the 'song!

My relationship with volta was extremely sexually restrictive. For a year, I wasn't allowed to be even mildly sexual with anyone but one other person, and only mildly sexual with him.

I was talking with a friend recently about a guy who was interested in me. The friend suggested that I tell the guy that I'm not interested in sex without a relationship (I'd said I didn't want a relationship). I said, "Well, I don't know if I am or not! I don't remember if I was or not before, honestly, and this year has changed me. I don't know what I want."

I do know that I'm not interested in having a Relationship with anyone new. Blessing of LJ: I can announce that here, and hopefully the people who need to hear it will hear it, because I've been being approached, and honestly, I don't know how to deal with that. I'm still the dorky girl in the back of the classroom. I'm not quite sure how to deal with interest that isn't reciprocated.

At the same time, I'm a very sexual person - and I can be a very mercurial person. I may totally want to do you today, but that interest may not be there next week - and that's not you, that's me. The raunchiness, it ebbs and flows like the tides.

And I want to be playful with people; I want to tell the people that I fantasized about the other day that I fantasized about them. In one case, I *know* they'll* love that. In the other, I'm pretty sure. But I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. Because they may not be inhabiting my fantasy world next week, let alone next time I see them, and I'm particularly worried about one of them getting attached and then getting hurt.

I hate that I have to be this guarded. But I very much do not want to hurt anyone's feelings.

Gah.

Am I making sense?


(* I'm not playing the pronoun game. That was a two-person fantasy.)
Hearth

Continuation

Medical: Having a bit of difficulty concentrating.

Sexual: Please do read the comments on today's post about sex if at all interested in my thought process; lots of clarification happens there.

I'm glad I wrote that one. It's been on my mind for a bit.
Writing - photo

Pictures

This is not the calendar page you're looking for.

The calendar pages are portraits, and while this image is of Fenris, it's a candid shot. It's not the picture I want to draw.

It's not the picture he wants to show you.

But it's the picture that's in my head right now, that won't let me do anything else til I write it.

Sunrise, after the Purges, and if this image had a title it would be either "It's over." or "How much of that is yours?"

The foyer of the Library, suffused with early light. Donna standing beside the stairs, looking older than she did when the night began. Hair uncharacteristically down, streaming across her shoulders. Skirts wrinkled from her balling her fists up in them all night.

Fenris, having just walked through the open door.

He looks older, too.

He doesn't know how many Hounds he's killed or wounded tonight.

He doesn't know how many people have died at the hands of the Hounds he and the Kirayth didn't take out, or didn't take out in time.

He knows that the second number is exponentially bigger than the first.

He's worn to the bone, having moved for the last hour-at-least strictly on adrenaline and necessity. His jeans are torn near to shreds. His leather jacket has clearly taken knife damage - the right arm is laid out from shoulder to elbow.

He's bruised and begrimed, but what draws the eye most is the blood crusted on leather and denim, on the hair that's escaped his ponytail to drift around his face, on his neck and jawline, crackling slightly when he swallows.

You don't see the lost and broken look in his eye unless you know him well, as well as Donna. You see the hardened warrior. But he does not want you to see his grief.