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Below are the 12 most recent journal entries recorded in
Angelina Johnson's InsaneJournal:
| Wednesday, September 8th, 2010 | |
| 11:39 pm | Bio: Angelina Johnson A blue-eyed shadow you never mention anymore. Nothing ventured – nothing saved You poured it out like bourbon on a fresh grave And learned your lesson well ( You learned your lesson well ) |
| Sunday, November 29th, 2009 | |
| 10:08 pm | I have got to overcome all this silliness. Earlier in the week, I heard that someone had opened a joke shop in London. Logic didn't cross my mind, and I didn't stop to think that there were a thousand joke shops before them and even more after I'm sure. All I could think was... maybe it was George. Of course it wasn't. Some great-great grandchild of the first owner of Zonko's was reopening the old shop in the new world. I should be happy. The dead keep coming here And Fred, everyone knows what happened to him. He's dead, and yet not here. Sometimes, this place doesn't make sense at all. |
| Thursday, November 19th, 2009 | |
| 10:29 am | I don't feel the same way about Quidditch as I used to. Don't get me wrong, I still love it, but I don't have... the same passion for it as I used to. Maybe it's partially fear. When you've died playing once, I don't care who you are, there's a fear factor. Maybe I need to find something different. It might be time for a change. |
| Saturday, November 7th, 2009 | |
| 1:50 pm | The holidays are fast approaching, and I suppose I should begin shopping for gifts. Since I'm fairly certain I only have one person to buy for, Freddie? Do you have anything you'd like? I'll get Lil G a stocking, too. And since that's a ridiculously sad shopping list, would anyone else like gifts? [Private: Self] My son has a daughter. Another thing in his old life I missed, though I suppose he missed it too. I just feel like there are these holes, these voids as far as I'm concerned in his life that I'll never be able to fill. Why am I playing Quidditch here, anyway? So I can die doing it and leave him behind just like I did in the old world? But then, what else do I do? It isn't as if I've got marketable skills, and I still enjoy Quidditch even if I don't love it as much as I used to. I just can't bear the thought of dying on him again because of some stupid move or a tragic accident. In this world, there's no George to stand in for me in the event that something happens. |
| Sunday, October 25th, 2009 | |
| 1:58 pm | Huh. It's my birthday and I almost forgot. Not cool! Twenty-six years old, for the second time. At least I'm not thirty yet? |
| Wednesday, September 30th, 2009 | |
| 2:58 pm | Even though I was only a mum for the first five years of my childrens' lives, it still feels odd to only have one of them around. It'd be nice to see Roxanne. To meet her again myself instead of just hearing the stories from Fred. Speaking of my son, Fred, has the headmaster spoken with you yet? I sent the letter. |
| Tuesday, August 11th, 2009 | |
| 9:38 pm | How can something so evil be so cute? I need new Quidditch boots now. I had three pairs. Now I have two left boots remaining. |
| Sunday, August 2nd, 2009 | |
| 2:02 pm | The match yesterday against Spain was fucking intense. Well, at first it was, because who would have thought having Bataller as the coach would have improved them that much in one season? But Bataller is a BADASS and apparently can turn a team around in no time flat because they were contendors. For about four hours at least. After the first four hours, we completely obliterated them. It was like me and the other chasers were yo-yo's and the goal was the person HOLDING the yo-yo because we were scoring every few minutes it seemed, even when one of our beaters got knocked out because a Spanish beater knocked him into the stands and I think someone in the audience had to go to the hospital... but anyway The match lasted twenty-one hours. And I still haven't slept because I'm ridiculously wired right now. I think the puppy even thinks I'm crazy. I think my hyper son thinks I'm crazy. But tea sounds really really good right now... or, a tea latte. That would be amazing. Tea with a shot of espresso. Final score? 380 to 120 We would have won without the bloody snitch. And it was fucking hilarious when the Spanish seeker tried that defensive feint toward the end and tried to trick our seeker into running headfirst into the turf because he's not that stupid, and even if they had caught the snitch, the score would have been 380-270. Mmm, victory. |
| Monday, July 20th, 2009 | |
| 12:00 pm | There are some issues with the team currently. Our first reserve keeper has managed to get herself knocked up, which means that our reliable backup for Christianson is out of the picture for at least a year, give or take. If she ever comes back. I know after I had my kids I considered staying out of the game, but in the end I couldn't stay away. Probably should have since it wound up killing me, but even now I haven't learned my lesson. Playing again in the second life. On top of the unexpected maternity leave, one of the other chasers has decided to retire. Never mind the fact that he's barely 30, but he's got this notion that he wants to write a memoir about life playing Quidditch. Life? He's been on the team five years now. That's not life! Now we've got to get one of the reserve players trained up ASAP. Really, there should be stronger incentives to not break your contract in midseason, especially when we're playing Romania in two weeks. Coach is understandably livid. Fred, we should have named your puppy Lucifer. He's evil! How's NARA going, by the way? It's too quiet here. There's a distinct lack of things breaking and/or exploding. |
| Wednesday, July 15th, 2009 | |
| 2:25 pm | Fred, I found us a puppy. And I really wanted to wait until you got home but the breeder said that if I didn't act like right now there wouldn't be another litter for quite a while and... well, its not a pit bull and I know he looks small NOW, but he's going to grow up to be a big Doberman Pinscher. And he's cute. And currently... eating my shoe right now. And he needs a name, Fred, and I can't think of one. Here's a picture, start brainstorming names!  And you're not getting into too much trouble are you? Having fun? No shooting of self or others? Right? I'm gonna assume the answer to all of the above is favorable because I'm trying really hard not to be a worrier. |
| Sunday, July 12th, 2009 | |
| 5:34 pm | I am in an empty house. It's too quiet. Maybe I should get a puppy like Freddie suggested. It would at least be entertaining. And something to do. I'd certainly have plenty to clean between the time of getting it and having it housebroken. I always had dogs in the old world, why not here? Besides, they're fun. Even when they're chewing on the furniture in their 'teenager' stage. Anyone know where I can get a puppy? Fred wants like... a pit bull? Or something like it. I just don't want one that has been bred for aggression. Definitely one bred for a companion, though really, our house is in sort of a dodgy neighborhood (even though it's NICE and was SO INEXPENSIVE that I could renovate the shit out of it!) and it wouldn't be a bad thing to have a pup that looks like he could do some damage. I've always been fond of bulldogs, but I don't know that Fred would like a wrinkly faced dog like that. Fred? What do you think? Does it have to be a pitbull or can I look around and get your okay on different types? I'll take my camera! |
| Saturday, July 4th, 2009 | |
| 2:26 am | The healer for the English National Team has got to be the most fretty person in the world. It's just a broken rib. You'd think it'd be simple enough for him to do whatever those healing spells are and send me back to the pitch, right? Apparently not. But he should really learn that when he says "Johnson, spend the rest of the day at home resting and take tomorrow off" that he should probably inform my coach or captain, because unenforced and useless instructions tend to go in one ear and out the other. Even if my rib had just vanished, I'm pretty sure I could live without it. Didn't that bloke in the Bible, Adam or whatever, survive with a missing rib? If it's okay for god to take out ribs for the good of mankind, it's okay for me to play Quidditch with a just-healed broken rib for the good of the team. I know we're just playing France this week and their team is absolute rubbish this season, but still. It's the principle of the thing. Of course, I knew he would catch on eventually to my ignoring his orders and going back out on the pitch. We were just coming back from lunch and getting back into drills when who walks out next to Coach but Healer Fretty himself. When he started whispering, I knew I was screwed. So, now I'm at home early and bored to bloody death. Who invented this doing nothing thing? I have some dungbombs with his or her name on them. (And yes. I do know that 'fretty' is not a real word, nor the actual name of said healer. Also, no. I do not care. It is fun to say) |