(no subject)

Urrrg. No India. Her sister's birthday party is on the same day. It looks like (unless I find a load more people tomorrow in Madrigals) we'll have few enough people to just go in two cars. Nabil's and Mel's.

Yes, you can park here, Nia, though I'd recommend the front part of the straight (right) pert of the driveway, so nobody can get behind you and box you in. The street might (usually doesn't, but ought to) give you tickets, though. Careful.

It's really weird (definitely uncomfortable) not to be having an AIM conversation at this time in the evening. Argh. What am I gonna do while Tony's comp has a virus? What? Homework? Ha.

We reached our freak-people-out quota today at lunch, draping ourselves on the table outside, over each other and Wes and Mel... I think our school is one of the few at which you can get away with piling (though not under the eyes of certain teachers). Yaaay. I like to pile.

Outburst of admiration

Hands have got summarily to be the coolest human feature imaginable. Their beauty renders me inarticulate on a regular basis. Actually, almost any mammalian digital extremity is pretty darn cool. The joints, the joints!

They are definitely a thing I'd miss if I were physically feline. And not just for their usefulness. They're so expressive, and evocative of personality. When I draw M'ae, they've got real humanoid hands, because (though they have their own grace) paws just aren't the same, and I haven't mastered the anthropomorphic art of hybrid a la Kyoht. The anatomy of a paw and a hand, while of course homologous, continue to stump me in translation.

There are particular characteristics which make hands attractive to me, which come through in the hand-paw combination of anthro art. The innate strength reflected in fingers whose ends are as thick and wide or thicker than the bases brings a kind of comforted, protected feeling to my subconscious, while the stereotypical lithe and lissome poet's/musician's/artist's hands impress me with their versatility and expressive capability. Bonus points for interesting calluses; you have GOT to be cool if you work for a living or play a string.

People look askance at my occasional sudden dispossession of their hands, but the skeletal structure and sheer transparency of some just intrigue me beyond my capacity to ignore. The play of tendons across knuckles as related to their movement in the lower arm is especially interesting. I've got to abandon my solitude to see that; subcutaneous fat prevents observation in most besides the boys.

And then there's the total flexibility and precision of a hand's actual movements. What else could possibly have yielded the vast majority of human creation? Gentle, pinpoint grip; four-fingered hooking grasp; full-felt, whole-hand strength hold; the sheer number of ways a hand can hold things, and the manner of expression certain hold convey, just floor me.

I'm weird-- deal with it.