Summer Lightning.
There's been a lot of that lately. And rain too. But when it stops it is so damned hot. Gah.
For once, though, I am not taking summer classes, and I am flailing aimlessly at the lack of things that need doing. I'm not used to vacations. O_O
Though, admittedly, it isn't really a vacation vacation seeing as we are doing lab work, but at least nothing is graded.
Despite this though, I have failed miserably at writing. I got stuck in the middle of an Akabane/Kagami fic and at the title of a Fudou/Juubei, and I seem to have lost the Kazuki/Juubei I almost have done, let that teach me to write things on loose sheets of paper!!! *tries to calm down*
And I meant to go to UP this afternoon for a lecture on conus peptides, but I got distracted by a book on Arsenal took such a long time making up my mind as to whether or not I should go that it started to rain. Hard. And me having no umbrella was stuck in National Bookstore for a pretty long time. Found a book by Alexandre Dumas that I didn't know existed before I was rescued by Mom, so I guess that was okay.
Specifically FC Barcelona football. I went from Argentina, followed Messi, found Barcelona, then looped back to MESSI. This is the first time that I've actually gone and followed football, and I love it. I'm crossing my fingers for Barca for both the Spanish League and Champion's League - they're going strong for both so far, and I hope I don't jinx it by saying it here. Never mind that I can't watch the matches in full (no cable, and local channels don't seem to care)- I've been living off game reports and highlights on YouTube, even if I can't understand what the commentators are saying most of the time. I love the internet. And, irrationally, Lionel Messi.
Well, perhaps it's not entirely irrational, seeing as he is a darn good forward, but fanhood oughtn't be something you have to rationalize. MessiMessiMessiMessiMessi. XD
It's my summer fanhood, you see. There's always a crazy summer fanhood. Though so far this one makes the most sense (sort of), seeing as they aren't fictional, Messi isn't fictional, and I'm not fangirling a generation too late. Messi's frickin' 21 for chrissakes. TWENTY-ONE. O_O On the one hand, it makes me happy that he's not that much older, and on the other it makes me realize how very little I have been doing with my life so far. Haha.
And I finished Hunters of Dune, the seventh book of the Dune series, written by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson, because Frank Herbert went and died before he could finish it. And I just have to say. Bastards. What the flying fuck was that. They wrote the thing with the people so out of character that it took me more than a year to read it through without feeling like I was wading through mediocre fanfiction, and then they went and ended it like that. Makes me think that they're just trying to provide a market for the whole host of prequel books they wrote. *shakes head in disgust before moving on to good old, honest Orson Scott Card and MessiMessiMessiMessi*
Anywho. There were things I'd have liked to say about church sound systems, and how irksome it is that some priests feel the need to make things camp and crass and offensive (even if they mean to be humorous), but it isn't timely or nice, so I will not continue down that line of thought. When I get my head out of football, I will try to get over the fiction block.
Hm. One day, I just might blog about something other than senseless blather. Hahaha.
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Even then, though, even if she danced with every crowned head, it would mean nothing. She would die, they would die, and how would the world be any better because she had danced? - Orson Scott Card, Prentice Alvin