All con.  It was a scary scary thing.  There was a predator too.



For more pictures, check out my facebook.  Heidi Slade's the name, of course.

Predator butt!  Awe, yeah... giggity giggity goo!

Fish!

 I had one of the most fucked up dreams of my life.  I've got to write this down before I forget it, so if it seems choppy and strange, well... it was a dream.

I'm on a battlefield.  Large black ships are hovering in. I can't tell what keeps them aloft, but it doesn't matter.  They're bombing us with weapons and dropping people in to slaughter everyone.  No death is "normal" and all in vivid detail.  Several get caught in the fire of a rocket as it takes off. I watch them scream as their skin melts away. Some are torn apart limb from limb, and I can see their muscles and ligaments ripping and snapping. Some are simply blown to pieces, raining flesh on the rest of us. The gore and pain and screams are unbearable. I'm alone - that is... I don't know who these people are, and it's not my fight, so I try to leave.

I find woods and flee to them. As I run, I realize the enemy is following me, and I get the sick feeling that it was my fight and no one else's. So I run faster. There's a bolt hole - a wolf den. I've been there before, so I wriggle in and try to patch up the opening, before they can find me, but it's too late. As it turns out, the wolf den was too small anyway, and I was panicking with clausterphobia. Men in what I can only describe as Imperial officer uniforms tear open the top and descend into the wolf's den.  It's not small anymore nor just a dirt hole.  It's palacial with shining floors and large glass windows. I'm terrified.

They tell me this has been a long time coming, and they're glad the chase is over. I have no idea who they are. I try to run again. At this point, I realize I'm in a dream, because I note that when I run, I'm at top speed. Usually when I run in my dreams, it's like I'm trying to move through peanut butter, and my eyes tear up so badly I can't see where I'm going anyway. But not his dream.  I break out the door next to the large glass window and hit top speed easily. I can see with vivid clarity that I'm in a city now. It has large buildings and a lot of trees and walkways. Beautifully laid red brick paths wind around small boutiques. To my right is a waterway - the kind that's fenced off with steep concrete walls on either side. Now and then, bridges connect my side to the other. The stars are bright in the otherwise clear black sky. They're chasing me, and they have dogs.

Two try to flank me. I can hear them yelling commands to each other. One is older and an experienced soldier. The other is younger and has never captured fleeing quarry. The older one commends the younger for being quick on his feet and willing to chase. There's a incline on the walkway leading to another little shop on a hill. Either side has a waist-high brick wall, and I know if I keep on the path, they're going to catch me.  So I jump up to one wall and run across the top, leap to the other, and hit the grass outside the designated path.  I run toward the water, hoping to take a straight shot to the bridge and the other side, but the young pursuer grabs me.

Everything is confusion. He's got some weapon that scrambles my senses, so I struggle. It's not till I hit the water that I realize I'm out of his grasp, but to my horror, there is no way out of the waterway - only steep concrete walls on either side.  I scramble toward the side, scraping for a handhold but find none, and the water is getting faster. I hear a train in the distance blaring its horn.

A hand grabs mine. I look up to see a man I don't recognize (although in retrospect, he kinda looked like Anthony Stewart Head in the repo outfit). He pulls me out of the water and sets my feet on solid ground. He says I'm his only mistake. He may have said more, but we're standing next to train tracks and the train is coming quick.  He pushes me to the other side of them, away from my pursuers.

And I wake up.

Night at the DMA was cool. There was so much going on and so many people, it was way too chaotic. I kinda felt like a butterfly trying to sample everything and moving so quickly I tasted nothing. I'll have to go back some other time when I can take it slow and savor the attractions. Even so... it was a night out with friends and art and belly dancers, oh, the belly dancers.  :-D  <3

[EDIT:  Is it bad that the one thought running through my head the entire night was, "Huh... the DMA is an elysium. Having late nights here is a profitable ruse for easy food."?]

Dragons are not artsy. They're pixels. But pixels need clickins.

Eeeexcellent.

An egg is the kind of dragon a bitch would... uh... click. Except I want you to click them, so um... *brainbreak*

One down, four to go... one of the rainbow fish died last night.  He was in a quarantine tank.  Cleaned out the bottom of the tank for any little ich parasites and did a 30% water change with fresh ich medicine.  Still no signs of ich in the main tank.  No signs of healing in the quarantine tank. Keeping the temperatures up to kill the damn parasites.  The fish are enjoying that part.

Dragon eggs are far less maintenance. They only require clicks.

1. Your eyeball.

This is the thing I've learned today. For when ich medicine gets in your eyeball, it hurts. And while you're bent over the sink rinsing it out, the vacuum hose tends to go unnoticed while it overfills the jug you were using to remove the water, soaking your cube like like Mickey Mouse's animated brooms did the wizard's castle.

*is an angry soggy heidi*

Dragon eggs are far less maintenance. They only require clicks.

A few of my fish seem to have sparkles. Not spots really... but sparkles. Looking this one up, cause I'm damn confused.

[EDIT: All sparklefish have been quarantined]

[EDIT 2: Hot damn, yeah.  This is one nasty outbreak.  Seriously, just within a few hours, my fish have developed cysts. Good thing I got them out of the tank, because it's painfully obvious it's ich now.  ARGH]

One of my eggs has sparkles too... Click it!

It's amazing what a little grooming can do with one's mood. It's day three of spiffing myself up in the morning, and although I'm running out of nice clothes (I have no nice things argh!), a little extra laundry wont hurt me any. Obviously, my personal hygiene had very little to do with the mind funk I've been in, but when I create a solid platform to stand on, even if it's something as simple as freshly washed hair and heels, it allows me to focus on what's really going on. Kinda like suiting up for battle or... something like that.

To everybody that's given me kind words these past few weeks or offered to help, thanks you! You guys rock my socks. Just the fact that you care is enough to help me along a bit. I'm doing better.

Now click my dragons! Yay!

Ahh, this is cathartic. For all the times I've gone to convention websites and cussed and hissed and spat and the monitor... I'm designing the website... and it's logical. Not pretty yet, oh no... but logical. Pretty comes later. Hot chick photoshoot times to come.

Click my eggs. Make them grow.

I was impressed with the pastor. It wasn't a bunch of hot air about life and death and afterlife. He just gently prodded people in the sanctuary to tell stories about Shawn until everyone was getting up and speaking about who she was to them and how much of an influence she was.

For having only met her face to face twice, and the impression she left on me, I was little shocked to see exactly how many people showed up to her funeral. I hope that many people are there to give a shit when I die.

Clickem Dragons

Red this time. Give them clickies!



[EDIT: Red white and blue, lol!]

Trying to do a little more "get outta my funk" work by hauling my sorry ass out of bed, showering, dressing nicely, and putting on make up. I'm fancy.

Dragons are fancy too!

Those at the Scion game know I was a little worried.  On Sunday, my husband called and said he saw an ambulance out in front of the house, but they couldn't tell us who was in it for legal privacy reasons.  We were worried that it might be our neighbor Sean, who we kept in relatively close contact for a few hermits like us.

People were finally home today, so I was able to figure out what happened.  Sean, who we knew had some medical problems and had to have her stomach removed, was on some heavy medicine for over 5 years. As such, her husband has to wake her up every hour on the hour when she sleeps to make sure she doesn't fall into a coma.  She was only 38 years old, but it finally took its toll.  She went to sleep and couldn't be revived. The ambulance performed CPR, but had no luck.  She died yesterday.

She was really the sweetest neighbor you could have.  On the day we moved in, despite having so many medical issues, and being in so much pain that she could stand for more than an hour at a time, she had baked us a cake.  I could rarely see her, she was sick so often, but I stopped by now and again to ask about her health.  Her husband and mine traded grilling secrets, and we always meant to have a barbecue together.

Guess we can't now.  Shouldn't have waited.

(12:24:03 PM) Squee: I require foods

I bred me another white dragon. A part of me is disappointed that it came out white again, but I'm kinda growing attached to the little buggers. I'm just ticked because I've got a ton of females and only two males... and since they can only breed every 8 days, it's a big waiting game. I hope these new hatchlings turn out to be male, because I seriously need some wider stock.

Belly buttons and a Twatler.

Do dragons have belly buttons?