"She learned from the best that there were indeed fabrics that were demon gore-proof."

I have a strong desire, all of a sudden, to really write something and finish something. Finishing something is a different breed than writing, heck, I've been scribbling random things today (including a 'hilarious' interlude between Buffy and her eccentric mentor, a chain-smoking officially retired interior designer, who moved to Rome for relaxation and happened to cross major players in the demon underworld).

Yet, I want to write something and have it done but I don't know what it is. It's a tad annoying. Too many thoughts jumbled about, no clear story in the mix. I've got a depressed, socially awkward future kickass herione on one hand, and then all these fanfic things I should be working on, but I'm not yet in the stage where I want to start writing something that'll have a coherent beginning, middle and end.

Meanwhile, I am debating whether or not I really want to go tramping around NYC in a skirt this Saturday dressed as Lily for the GoF movie. ignited, would you hate me forever if I just went as plain old Reg?