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Below are the 8 most recent journal entries recorded in
brigidsblest's InsaneJournal:
| Thursday, July 9th, 2009 | |
| 9:50 pm | Contest! Suzanne McLeod is holding a contest to promote her new book here: http://suzannemcleod.blogspot.com/2 Current Mood:  awake |
| Tuesday, June 30th, 2009 | |
| 12:24 pm | Book trailer An awesome trailer for what looks like an awesome book. (Apparently every paper cut-out in the video was done by hand, which is mind-boggling.) Current Mood:  calm |
| Wednesday, March 19th, 2008 | |
| 5:31 pm | Hail, Hermes Eriounios, luck-bringer, gift-giver, swift one! To you do I give my thanks this day for the bounty you have showered upon me. You answered my questions and showed me the way; Guide, watcher, keen-eyed one, I thank you. I have gloried in the abundance you bring me, And set my feet firmly on the path you show me. My thanks for your guidance are unending, And in return I give gifts back unto you. You will not find me ungrateful, or stinting. Let each day be a day that I say to you, 'Hail!', on the moment that I wake. |
| 5:30 pm | Hermes A note: Doug and I aren't much in the way of gamblers. No poker, no casinos, no racetracks for either dogs or horses. But we do buy lottery tickets, sparingly--one per drawing for the Powerball, and occasionally one for the state lottery. About a week ago I scooped up the pocket change in the car on a whim as we were headed into the grocery store. I stopped by the pull-tab machine and dumped the entire $1.75 in there. Very out of character for me, and I'm not sure why I did it. One of the tickets was worth $50. Very cool. Yesterday we went to the grocery store again, and I turned in the Powerball ticket for last week. It was worth $100. ...is he not also the god of gamblers? Yeah, I'm happy today. With part of yesterday's winnings, I bought a bottle of Red Rock merlot for him. The label on the bottle shows a pile of four stones, stacked on top of each other...it looks pretty much like the herma I have atop my altar to him:  |
| 5:29 pm | |
| 5:28 pm | I was in Manhattan... I was attending a SF con, and damned if I didn't run into my best bud Neil Gaiman again. He was just finishing up with a panel, and suggested we go get something to eat together. How could I argue with that? He went and got his dog from the hotel suite and we went walking. We ended up kicking around a couple of downtown neighborhoods, finally ending up down by the docks and the fish market, where he bought some fresh, raw clams and oysters. Yuck. Well, we sat down on some crates while he fished out a knife to open them up; apparently he likes raw clams and oysters. There was a ring in one of them. It was an antique by the look of it, Victorian era maybe, of silver, with seed pearls set around a small sliver of abalone that was as reflective as a mirror. We both peered at it-- --and there was a little face in that mirror, shifting, moving: the trapped soul of a very evil sorcerer. And the sorcerer met Neil's eyes, and made contact, and his soul leapt out of the ring into Neil's body. They struggled for a moment, trying to share the flesh, and then I realized that, little by little, Neil was being forced out of his own body. In a second, his soul would be entirely pushed out, and like steam, it would dissipate, and he would be gone forever, unable to return. I leaned forward, not even sure what I was doing for a moment, and inhaled his spirit as it poured forth, just barely visible, from his mouth, then knelt as his body shuddered as the invading sorcerer tried to coordinate himself with it. I breathed Neil's spirit into the nostrils of his dog, which went rigid for a second, and then the dog barked. (I have no idea how I knew to do this, but it worked. Neil's spirit was there; I could hear him in my thoughts.) I looked up. The sorcerer, in Neil's body, sneered at me and tossed aside the ring and the oysters and ran. I snatched up the ring, knowing it was the only prison that could hold the sorcerer's soul, and ran after him, the dog at my side. But he got away. I knew I had to go back to the hotel, where Neil's wife and family were waiting. (Yeah, who knew he'd gotten married again?) I wasn't sure how I was going to tell his wife that she was now married to a dog. It was a long walk, and when I got back and knocked on the door to his suite, it was answered by his lawyer. His wife was in there weeping. Apparently the sorcerer (in Neil's body) had come by and shoved her, then ran off with his son Charlie (I guess it was their child together?) I opened my mouth to tell her that there was good news and bad news: the good news was that Neil wasn't dead. The bad news was that he was now a dog. That was when I woke up. ...I have the weirdest goddamned dreams... Disclaimer to new readers of my journal: Neil Gaiman is not really my best bud. I've never even met him IRL. But sometimes the dreams make it feel that way. |
| Sunday, December 2nd, 2007 | |
| 5:12 pm | Bugger. It would appear that LJ is currently borked. *sigh* Now how am I going to waste my time? Current Mood:  annoyed |
| Tuesday, August 21st, 2007 | |
| 1:49 am | Ew... Gah. I could do without the 98% humidity, thanks. All the floors in my house are either sticky/clammy (wood, tile & linoleum) or vaguely moist (carpet). Even though they're all clean. *tries not to walk anywhere, totally disgusted* Current Mood: annoyedCurrent Music: 'Near to You', A Fine Frenzy |
