Here's what you get when you mix my "real-life" self, rowantree, with Ticklepurr:

The Potion Makerrowantreenium is a cloudy, crumbly maroon solid obtained from the brain of a fox.ticklepurrium is a translucent, grainy mauve powder drawn from the leaves of the eternity tree.Mixing rowantreenium with ticklepurrium causes a violent chemical reaction, ( Read more... )

Hob came by yesterday with a very sweet gift. He's a sweet guy, and a good friend--in a brotherly sense. Well, after he gave me his gift which he "said" was a thank you for being a friend (I was only doing what I had to do, but I'm glad I had the gift of knowing he was in need). Poor guy still can't talk, I wish I could help him with that, too, but ( Read more... )

Alex came by this afternoon. Gods, I was such a dork! But somehow we both survived the encounter and went to dinner after a bit. We were just starting to have an interesting conversation when Travis showed up. *sigh ( Read more... )

An entry in Ticklepurr's blog:Friday, Jan. 26, 07:23 pm EST ( Read more... )

Thank goodness I'm actually getting some of the BASIC stuff I need to know in order to cast cantrips, Ticklepurr thinks, scribbling down her homework assignment in her scheduler. I felt so out of my league coming here so late in the semester. I didn't know ANYTHING. She scans the hallway, looking for people she knows, as she strolls down the hall ( Read more... )

Ticklepurr sits on the bed in her room, scribbling out her last few notes for the next day's Cantrips class. Butterflies tickle her stomach as she thinks about going to the LGBT alliance meeting. I hope there are a bunch of people there, she thinks. I'd hate to be the only one. But then again, I bet everyone there will already be hooked up and they ( Read more... )

Ticklepurr fills a clay strawberry planter with the last remnants from a bag of topsoil. It was a trick getting the planter and the topsoil from the Agway store to Whiteoak Hall, but it was worth it. As she plants seeds of a variety of herbs in the openings on the sides and top of the planter, she hums to herself. The feeling of dirt on her hands ( Read more... )

Yay! I'm not rowantree anymore....I have my own separate identity. :-)

After a ride that seemed to last forever, Aunt Cathy's dusty silver Toyota Celica pulled up in front of Whiteoak Hall. I climbed out of the car and braced myself against the sudden cold. I was glad I'd decided to wear jeans instead of tights under my Indian-print batik dress. I pushed a wayward hair behind my ear and said, "Thanks for the ride, ( Read more... )