Lena's sleeping in my bed now, moaning and begrudging my proclivity for sitting here in keeping her half-up. The amazing amount of time that I spend here is doing nothing to convince her that technology is a Good Thing, and she continues to believe that it is sucking my life away.

What makes that belief bizarre (or perhaps this makes it semi-plausible) is the fact that she admitted to me today that she spent a large chunk of middle school as an IRC-addict. This girl who acts like she doesn't know how to turn a computer on, or at least is convinced that the aura of the room is immediately and drastically hurt by it.

The IRC discussion was inspired by the cool book I'm reading:

...I feel her, feel that she is wet, I wonder whether her excitement is due to me or to her bots. She uses one hand to guide me carefully into her, making that small high-pitched sound she always makes whenever our connections are successful, her other hand at my face, two fingers in my mouth, these fingers that have been busy at the keyboard. I can almost taste her bots. I close my eyes for a moment, bogged in the sensation of her body on mine, feeling her amiable interior, and when I open my eyes, I see that her eyes are now closed. One of her computers beeps but neither of us pays any attention.

Oh, hot damn, hacker girls are sexy. (Even if you do find out later that Kyoko is also a IRC freak. I suppose.) But really, the realization doesn't make me want to get with one as much as it makes me want to be one.

***

Things I want to have finished making (by pulling them out of my head and into reality) before the end of the summer in order for me to believe that I did something productive:

• A bookshelf. I would probably be satisfied by simply buying a premade unfinished wooden one and painting it myself. I want it to have silver stars on it, I know that much for sure. Other inspiration will have to come once I get paint in my hot little mitts. I do also like the idea, though, of "bibliophile" being sprawled along the side in marilyn-font.
• A new bedspread for my bed up at school. Something soft and shiny. In a bright solid color. I almost bought a down comforter a few days ago for a not-unreasonable amount of money, just because I was dying to wrap up the pretty squishy whiteness with a giant swath of purple satin.
• More writing that I like.
• A piece of stained glass. I've wanted, for a very very long time, to be able to make stained glass, and Elena said she can teach me. The desire to do so ties to a character in a absurd little romance novel who reminds me of me more than any other character, real or fictional. She's got my hair, my laugh, ah, I like her a lot, in the same way I like me. She is a stained glass artist; ever so apropriate for a smutty romance novel, what with the ability to place sex scenes within her workshop. They tried halfheartedly to find carpet without little bits of glass ground into it, but needed eachother so badly, they just wound up grinding eachother into the tiny shards. Showers later, picking out tiny lines of blueness and purple, reminding eachother of their passionate desires!

***

Heh. What an erotic little entry that turned out to be. You've gotta watch out when I start goofing off with the romance novels. (And shut up! I swear, I haven't read one in 6 or 7 years.)

***

Sleep now.