Lack of Title is Lacking

I think these last two weeks are the time of death or something.

On the fourth of July, my (almost) 94 year old grandmother died. It's been a long time coming, but it's still really sad. I miss her tons, although I don't think it's really hit me yet that she's gone, and I'm reminded why I dislike Catholic churches. She was a hard core Catholic until the end, so she would probably be pretty happy with the service. Me, on the other hand, my idea of religion is dancing around a maypole.

As said by the post below, one of my kitties, Moustafolees, died of kidney failure.

Now, my other kitty, Riddle (yes, he was named for Tom Riddle. I got him for Christmas when I was in sixth grade), is missing. We've had to keep him outside for the last few weeks because he was peeing in the house, and now he's gone. I really hope he's not dead.

You know, I wonder if he was peeing in the house in protest to dying and Harry Potter winning. You never know. Granted, I'm pretty sure Riddle doesn't even know his name, but hey...*shrug*.

Happier notes! My Goddess Mother ceremony happens next week! One of my favorite women in the world is going to take up vows to be the Goddess Mother of Sorella and I. A Goddess Mother is pretty much the same as a God Mother, but because I follow a religion that recognizes a God and a Goddess, I would have a Goddess Mother and a God Father. However, there is no man I wish to name my God Father right now.

Mater went to Vancouver for a week and a half, and I'm proud to say that Sorella and I didn't burn down the house, need to go to the emergency room, or suffer from malnutrition, all of which were completely possible. When I stop and think about it, the least likely of those three to happen would be burning down the house. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. Sorella has a sort of love/hate relationship with the emergency room; she doesn't like it there, but she keeps needing to go back. And, as most young adults, we're lazy as all hell about food. We figure things will look more appetizing if we're more hungry, there's no need to put in effort to find food just yet.

But, otherwise, all is well in the land of Arcaine (even if this post is late. And incredibly uninteresting. Whoops).

Wander safely,
Arc.

That One Time My Roommate and I turned Luna Lovegood into a Cold-blooded Killer

We're not really sure how it happened.

My roommate (who is no longer my roommate, sadly *sadface*) and I had been on a Harry Potter kick for a LOOONG time. As in run a marathon of the movies two days in a row, knit House scarves, and go to Wizardrock concerts. I do remember was that everything started around 3:30 am, and it went something like this.

Roommate: You know, with Dumbledore dead and McGonagall being ancient, who would be Headmaster when Harry's kids go to Hogwarts?
Arc: I dunno, Neville?
RM: Yeah, probably Neville...No, wait...LUNA.
Arc: HA! YES! LUNA WOULD MAKE THE MOST KICK ASS HEADMASTER EVER.
RM: Oh, god, can you imagine?
Arc: (imitating Luna) "Remember to leave food out for the Nargles before you go to bed."
RM: "The Nargles like shoes, so none of you get to wear shoes. You give them all to the Nargles"
Arc: (being some punk ass kid) "What if we like our shoes?"
RM: (as Luna) "Well that jus' fuckin' sucks, dunnit?"
Arc: "The Nargles will steal all your shoes."

But, you see, that was only the beginning. Luna soon took a turn for the worse.

RM: "And tomorrow, we're going to learn how to ride Thestrals."
Arc: (punk ass kid) "What if we can't see the Thestrals?"
RM: (Luna) "....You're father picked on me in school, stole all my shoes." *BAM. KID DEAD.* "Now everyone can see Thestrals!"
Arc: (another, more scared kid) "But...What about the first years next year...?"
RM: (Luna) "...Pick a number between one and ten."
Arc: (kid) "...Four...?"
RM: (Luna) "Well that fuckin' sucks, you should have picked five. You'll be the reason the next first years can see Thestrals."

The more we talked, the more we remembered about Luna; the Dirigible plums, the Nargles, the Crumplehorned Snorkbacks (or something like that. We couldn't pronounce it, so we didn't include it). The more we talked, the more we laughed, suffocated, and destroyed Luna's looney, good-girl reputation.

RM: (Luna) "Dirigible plum puddin' for dinner. Enjoy!"
Arc: (Kid) "What if we don't like pudding?"
RM: (Luna) "Well tha' jus' fuckin' sucks, dunnit? You're not gettin' anythin' more than puddin'. I hope the fuckin' Nargles eat your face off."
Arc: And you know Neville is sitting at the staff table, leaning forward to look at Flitwick with this murderous look on his face, snarling, "I told you I should have been Headmaster! I told you!

All of this went on for a LOONG time. I think it was coming up on five am when we finally suppressed our giggles (and were able to breathe properly again) and finished up our Nargle talk. As in, every time we said "Goodnight. FOR REAL, this time!", one of us would lean over and whisper something like...

RM: "The Nargles like it when you sleep! It makes it easier for them to eat your soul!"
Arc: "Go to sleep, little children! Let the Nargles eat your souls!"
RM: "Worship the Nargles!"
Arc: "THE NARGLES ARE YOUR GOD!"
RM: ....Hey, Arc?
Arc: Yeah?
RM: What have we done to Luna?
Arc: ....We're so going to hell.

And that's how we turned Lovely Luna Lovegood into a cold-blooded killer. Whoops. Sorry, Luna.

Wander safely (AND WORSHIP THE NARGLES!),
Arc.