picture in my mind

Trouble blogging again. Because my mind is cluttered, and I'm getting lazy.


Also, I have statistics to study... and my goddd... this stuff is not sinking in. And to think I actually did Level 2000/3000 statistics modules before. Where did any of the info go! I think our brain does throw out stuff we personally, primitively hate. I know I've done this before... but O.O no important information about it remains. must. not. be. lazy. and. stubborn. must. mug.


Got bored (i.e. wanted to procrastinate) and tried to google tumblr and lymond together, and surprise, surprise! there wasn't one dedicated to it. -.- puh. But did find someone reviewing a little bit of Checkmate...


I'm loving Checkmate, but I just can't get over the fact that Lymond and Philippa can, in a way, read each other's minds. And NEITHER ONE OF THEM QUESTIONS IT. It just starts happening as though it's perfectly natural and normal for a couple in love to share a telepathic connection. NO ONE IS ALARMED. I'm alarmed that no one is alarmed.


from putting the pro in procrastination.


haha! I kind of remember thinking like this. 


Also, this makes me nostalgic; I do agree that most times, it's all about timing:


Oh God, I'm hopelessly gone. I should have waited a decade to read this when maybe I wouldn't be so susceptible to gorgeous, witty, dangerous heroes.


And some more stuff I agree with; how is it that I feel like I know this person:


And can I just say that this one line gave me shivers in a way the horror genre has never managed?

'It's Francis Crawford,' she said, her young voice harsh. 'Kill him for me?'

She says it to a roomful of 600 drunk men--men who happen to be Lymond's own army that he'd built. I was clutching my pillow and most likely groaning out loud at that point. Later we find out that Lymond walked into the room knowing everything would devolve into chaos and that they would probably end up flogging him. So before he doomed himself to that fate he loosened the chains on the whipping post so that he could get away later that night after they had whipped him. Jesus Christ. Just the fact that he walked into that room knowing he would fail to talk them down.... He comes in as they're verbally shredding his (dubious) reputation, violence permeating the air, and says, "Good evening. Wouldn't you prefer to stab me in the front, rather than the back?"

Who does that?! Who's that insane?!

This series is ruining me for all future novels. I can feel it. I can't remember the last time I was this immersed in a world and its characters.


YES, not since Lymond have I been truly satisfied again.


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okay, I need a nap before I force the mugging on myself. :s