Assorted nonsense.
Jul. 25th, 2009 09:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
damkiannaI've been sort of overdosing Harry Potter lately - first going to HBP, and then my mother got OotP on her Netflix because she couldn't remember anything about it, and we watched that, and then also I just got up the nerve to share the few chapters of the HP AU that I've actually written with M (she liked it! Although she's definitely the sort to say that, even if they were deeply terrible - though she would probably add a little concrit to the compliments, if she really didn't like it). So it's possible that I shouldn't be surprised that I had an an HP-verse dream the other day.
The beginning - or, at least, the first bit I can remember - wasn't actually wholly nonsensical. I was a student; along with quite a lot of other students, I was at Hogwarts, and I think we were all in the Great Hall. Voldemort was at the Burrow, and had set up a trap of some sort there for Harry; this was because he had somehow Legilimenced the Weasley kids, who had all been longing to get back to the Burrow and be with their parents and older brothers, and had figured they would probably be going back soonish - and might have Harry along. The students in the Great Hall - including me and Harry - were composing a plan to get Voldemort to come to Hogwarts instead, which involved all of us planting false thoughts in our heads, longing to be at Hogwarts even though we were already there. The hope was that he would Legilimence us (long-distance? IDEK), and decide to come to Hogwarts - he might think that since it had been evacuated, he would be able to get in, and then he could surprise us when we got back and, you know, murder us all.
And it worked! He totally came, although I'm a little fuzzy on how. That was the end of the vaguely sensical part, though, and also of the part that I remember clearly. There was a bit after that - I had ... a cloak, perhaps, or a jacket, and for some bizarre reason, I had decided that the most logical course of action was to whip Voldemort about the head with it. The first time I hit him, he just sort of shook it off and gave me a look, but I just kept cracking it round his head, until my arm started to get sore. I very distinctly remember thinking at this juncture that I was a dreadful Mary Sue, because here I was, an original character (and a self-insert at that!), and I was beating Voldemort about the head with a jacket, and I wasn't dead. (And, of course, in a larger sense, I was fighting Voldemort, which was something Harry, or maybe some of the professors, ought to be doing.)
It was very odd, but rather a fun dream. I must add it to the list. That makes three flying dreams (one with wings, two where it was my superpower), a pirate dream (I was Elizabeth the Red, scourge of the high seas - mostly I remember the part where that was my name, and the part where I boarded a ship by swinging on a bit of rigging), and three fandom dreams (one SG-1, one J2, and this one).
I also must add to my wildlife count for the summer, with two more moles in Mary's garden, a wild turkey crossing the road on the way home, and a deer in the field across from my house, nomming very happily on some grass, and regarding my car with a very blasé kind of air as I passed it.
My thesis research is slowly but surely progressing; I have now completed three interviews, although one is probably not long enough to provide a good speech sample, and have two more scheduled for next week.
My mother is currently updating me daily on the tale of my birth, as my birthday approaches. My due date was three days ago, but my birthday's not until the third of August; I was very late indeed. (If I had been five minutes earlier, my birthday would be the second of August, but no; I felt it was best to wait until 12:04 AM of August third.) She loves to tell us these things, she does the same thing to my sister when March rolls around. I have done a little hinting around as to things I would like, and it looks like the first season of Burn Notice on DVD has a very good chance of happening. \o/!
Syntax is slowly leaching away my will to live. I appreciate the quirky beauty, the intricacy and arbitrariness, the flexibility, of English grammar, really. But I've taken, like, five classes on it. I was kind of hoping that this course would be a little more comparative - a little more about other languages, languages that are very different from English, languages with tenses and moods and particles and other things that don't exist in English. ... Sigh.
Thank god for conlanging, I guess. :D
The beginning - or, at least, the first bit I can remember - wasn't actually wholly nonsensical. I was a student; along with quite a lot of other students, I was at Hogwarts, and I think we were all in the Great Hall. Voldemort was at the Burrow, and had set up a trap of some sort there for Harry; this was because he had somehow Legilimenced the Weasley kids, who had all been longing to get back to the Burrow and be with their parents and older brothers, and had figured they would probably be going back soonish - and might have Harry along. The students in the Great Hall - including me and Harry - were composing a plan to get Voldemort to come to Hogwarts instead, which involved all of us planting false thoughts in our heads, longing to be at Hogwarts even though we were already there. The hope was that he would Legilimence us (long-distance? IDEK), and decide to come to Hogwarts - he might think that since it had been evacuated, he would be able to get in, and then he could surprise us when we got back and, you know, murder us all.
And it worked! He totally came, although I'm a little fuzzy on how. That was the end of the vaguely sensical part, though, and also of the part that I remember clearly. There was a bit after that - I had ... a cloak, perhaps, or a jacket, and for some bizarre reason, I had decided that the most logical course of action was to whip Voldemort about the head with it. The first time I hit him, he just sort of shook it off and gave me a look, but I just kept cracking it round his head, until my arm started to get sore. I very distinctly remember thinking at this juncture that I was a dreadful Mary Sue, because here I was, an original character (and a self-insert at that!), and I was beating Voldemort about the head with a jacket, and I wasn't dead. (And, of course, in a larger sense, I was fighting Voldemort, which was something Harry, or maybe some of the professors, ought to be doing.)
It was very odd, but rather a fun dream. I must add it to the list. That makes three flying dreams (one with wings, two where it was my superpower), a pirate dream (I was Elizabeth the Red, scourge of the high seas - mostly I remember the part where that was my name, and the part where I boarded a ship by swinging on a bit of rigging), and three fandom dreams (one SG-1, one J2, and this one).
I also must add to my wildlife count for the summer, with two more moles in Mary's garden, a wild turkey crossing the road on the way home, and a deer in the field across from my house, nomming very happily on some grass, and regarding my car with a very blasé kind of air as I passed it.
My thesis research is slowly but surely progressing; I have now completed three interviews, although one is probably not long enough to provide a good speech sample, and have two more scheduled for next week.
My mother is currently updating me daily on the tale of my birth, as my birthday approaches. My due date was three days ago, but my birthday's not until the third of August; I was very late indeed. (If I had been five minutes earlier, my birthday would be the second of August, but no; I felt it was best to wait until 12:04 AM of August third.) She loves to tell us these things, she does the same thing to my sister when March rolls around. I have done a little hinting around as to things I would like, and it looks like the first season of Burn Notice on DVD has a very good chance of happening. \o/!
Syntax is slowly leaching away my will to live. I appreciate the quirky beauty, the intricacy and arbitrariness, the flexibility, of English grammar, really. But I've taken, like, five classes on it. I was kind of hoping that this course would be a little more comparative - a little more about other languages, languages that are very different from English, languages with tenses and moods and particles and other things that don't exist in English. ... Sigh.
Thank god for conlanging, I guess. :D
