South Park Self

I want a zebra

I am, for no adequately defined reason and after almost a year of absence, remembering my dreams again. This is a profound relief. I like dreaming; mine tend to the vivid and trippy and are always entertaining. I think it also means that I'm probably emerging from the loathsome embrace of depression at least to some extent, to which I say calloo, callay. Although Sunday night's little excursions entailed (a) being locked carefully in a room somewhere by concerned friends so that the giant, unlikely, terrifying cloud of bats couldn't get at me despite much fluttering at windows, and (b) trying desperately to find random objects in the old house which was slowly decaying and filling with water, so possibly a certain subconscious concern about dissolution of the structural coherence of my identity may be implicated. On the other hand, last night I dreamed an extended balloon trip in the company of Sherlock Holmes, which was about wish fulfilment on so many levels I actually woke up giggling. I've always wanted to go up in a balloon, I love flying, and flying dreams are a rare and particular pleasure. Also, BBC's current Sherlock. I have, shall we say, no complaints.

In other news, the EL appears to have achieved a girlfriend, although this is a conclusion drawn solely from observation of particular patterns in pewter-casting, he hasn't said a word about her. What's with that? Oh, wait. EL.

Subject line from the Magnetic Fields's "Zebra", chosen mainly by random association and the fact that it contains the line "We circled the Earth in a hot air balloon, So what?" I can't say I actually want a zebra, which for the purposes of scansion and rhyme in this particular instance is pronounced "zee-bra".
What, you doubt my observational skills? There's definitely a third person in the house rather a lot, for reasons other than pewter-casting. Also, apparently the EL still reads this blog, because he has (a) harrumped at me about the above post, and (b) confirmed everything.

She seems nice :>.
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!

You'd only said things about pewter-casting. I hadn't realized there had been multiple sightings. Or that he would actually admit it. (This being the EL, after all).</p>

I am very happy for him--absolutely tickled pink. Do please pass that along in case he doesn't happen to see this comment himself. :)

You totes have more details than I have, she seems to be implicated in both the SCA and the CLAW crowd. See "Pewter casting", above.
Glad to hear about the dreaming and the loosening of the depression. I too, would not refuse a balloon ride with Sherlock Holmes in his current incarnation.

I have a bracelet from a friend which says "Ten is my Doctor" Given the numerous iterations of ACD's character, perhaps I need another which reads "Cumberbatch is my Sherlock".
With you both on the Tenth Doctor and on the One True Sherlock, although the latter would be a lot punchier a catch-phrase if the actor's name wasn't so damned cumbersome.

Dammit, I must really finish writing that Sherlock fanfic post, it's been an open tab for over a month.