4. Write about your closest friend(s). Oh! Zombie Girl! OK. Well, she and I met online about a year and a half ago. We dated for a while, but these days we’re just friends. She is awesome! Plastic is dedicated to her (which is probably the reason it’s such a Quatre/Trowa-heavy Heero/Duo story), and she is writing a wonderful story about (wait for it) Trowa and Quatre with a side-helping of Heero/Duo. She also wrote some Saitou/Sano because I converted her to the pairing, but she only felt like writing the highlights of the beginning of the story, and thus it is incomplete :\ But then she’s also working on this awesome Saiyuki fic that is the best of all Saiyuki fics.

OK, so, why is it that when told to “write about my closest friend,” the bulk of that ends up being a list of what she’s writing…? XD

I dreamed that I had either joined Starfleet or been taken onto some ship as a refugee of some sort. You’d think that the fairly great difference between these two situations would make them easy to distinguish between, but this dream was mostly confusing as hell. There was a lot of stuff going on, and all these officers, and I couldn’t keep it all straight.

So in the middle of all this drama or whatever, I was in the room with the First Officer and some other peeps, and the FO was talking about how she would like a private office, which apparently she didn’t have. They looked around and thought about it, and eventually decided to make an office for her above the room we were in, which had suspended ceiling tiles that divided the vertical space in half. I climbed up above the tiles to test out the space up there, and deemed it acceptable fort the purpose.

(Aside: I don’t know what it is about my subconscious, but it seems to have a fixation with suspended ceiling tiles and the space above them, because this is constantly happening in my dreams. I do know that twelve or thirteen years ago I wrote a story where the character {who was actually I, if I recall correctly} climbed up and took a nap above the suspended ceiling tiles… it was supposed to be a Rip Van Winkle sort of thing, so I had to find a place to take a nap where people wouldn’t find me… but, seriously, that is not enough {and definitely not recently enough} to justify this seeming interest in the subject in my dreams.)

Later, some kind of terrorists had gotten onto the ship and were threatening people. They subdued the captain on the bridge, and we knew they were coming down to the area where we were. At this point, somehow, I switched… I wasn’t the refugee/new recruit anymore, but a more seasoned, um, employee of the ship. I have no idea what sort of rank, if any, I held, but I was a good deal more official at this point.

Anyway, knowing that the terrorists were coming down here, we encouraged my other self (who still looked uncannily like me) to go up into the FO’s new office above the tiles and hide there, since it wasn’t obvious to anyone not in the know that there was a room up there. I’m not sure whether this was a strategy we thought up in order to have an ally hidden somewhere for a surprise attack, or because my former self was weak and innocent; it kinda felt like both.

Then the terrorists appeared, and we could do nothing against them because the leader had a big gun. The fact that it was a bullet-style gun shows just how much my mind doesn’t live in Star Trek space, but, then, I think the ceiling tiles already gave that away XD So I think a couple of people in the room tried some things against the terrorist leader, but were subdued (I don’t think anyone in this dream actually died). But I knew that my previous self was up in the office and could potentially provide the distraction I needed to bash the terrorist leader over the head.

Eventually she cautiously lifted one of the tiles just a little and peeked down past it, and (the terrorist leader having her back to me at this point) I made gestures that my previous self should jump down on her. Which kinda seems like throwing my former self under the bus, but whatevs. She did jump down, and I did try to bash the terrorist leader over the head (with one of those really heavy scotch-tape dispensers, I think)… but I missed (FAIL), and the terrorist leader turned around and shot me.

The bullet went through just above my left collarbone and out my back, and, in the style of many a dream, didn’t hurt or seem to damage me at all — though I was gushing blood. Actually, I looked at my back in a mirror to see the exit wound because I was so interested XD And my former self grabbed the gun from the terrorist leader, and the day was saved!!

I had many dreams besides this, but, as usual, memory fails. There was one other, though, that I can mention.

There’s some kind of combination of keys that causes AbiWord to think it’s printing the document at hand. My computer does not actually connect to a printer most of the time, but AbiWord goes right through all the pages and claims to be printing them. It’s kinda cute, really — like the program is a little kid playing house, only in this case it’s playing print — except that I can’t type anything while it’s doing this, and I’m not really sure what the key combination is so I sometimes trigger it by accident.

Well, in one of my dreams last night, it turned out that this particular Plastic file had improbably printed on the printer upstairs, and my dad was like, “Oh, this printed — is it yours?” And I was all O__O because this particularly file contains the Quatre/Trowa sex scene I’ve been working so hard on lately. I was like, “Did he read it??” but couldn’t bring myself to ask XD

So now I’m working on my Christmas story. I’ve decided that GW fic will get its own header in my archive as soon as I have six GW fics there, and this will be the fifth. If I write that other Christmas story, that will be the sixth… but my guess is that the sixth will be Plastic, because that other Christmas story probably won’t happen until next year. But we’ll see.

My parents have gone to get Lesta from the airport, and that is aaaaaaweeeeeeeeesome. I’m hoping that I can get him to start reading Discworld while he’s here. Also we will do cool things. YA LESTA. OK, I’m done.