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The United Arab Emirates got together and pitched in for a gift upon my return to the desert: unblocking LJ's f'list function. Previously, I could access my journal and read other individual LJs, but that was it, and being caught up in constant housing drama, work, having a social life again and World of Warcraft since moving here meant I recognized maybe only every fifth costume at Dragon*Con, which just won't do at all. But I'm back, and in celebration caught up with as much as LJ would let me:

• the final episode of SGA began principal production on Monday. [sigh] I knew this one before Dragon*Con, and have mixed feelings about it. Maybe because I always thought fandom did it better, but having new canon made that possible
• apparently, the Jonas Brothers are just that big a deal [ETA: OMG Joe Jonas claims the first CD he ever bought was Britney]
there will not be a Harry Potter Lexicon book (or a movie until July, WTF)
• good for Lindsay Lohan
• can't tell you how happy I was to see these photos
• one can only hope Ghostbusters III, should it materialize, is better than the new Indiana Jones flick. Bah!
• Lance Armstrong will ride the 2009 Tour de France. Get back to me on this one. Obviously, awesome that he feels up to it, but Contador deserves his chance, as do the other men of the Tour
• the less spandex-covered (surprisingly) Lance will be on the new season of Dancing with the Stars. If you had told me that at any point before the official press release came out, I would've laughed in your face
• really trying not to read the spoilers from those lucky enough to have seen a test screening of Half-Blood Prince. Which is silly because it's not like I don't know how it ends, right? And no use fuming about something I won't get to judge for myself until next July? Right?
• another Baz Luhrmann musical!
• new Oasis album next month!
• yay, Roger!
The Dark Knight has been in the top five movies in terms of box office sales since its release two months ago. I've done my part (even if Eddie Olmos insists I haven't seen it until I've seen it in Imax)

Whoo, good to be back. Tomorrow it's mall skiing in Dubai and an encore viewing of Iron Man. Hopefully, the hubby won't take my swooning over Robert Downey Jr. personally.
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After four days of hacking up my lungs, breathing through my mouth, huddling in my Atlantis sweatshirt and moaning pitifully, the death flu has been vanquished. You know, it wouldn't have been nearly as bad, but as our waiter at Smoky Bones and I commiserated, who gets the flu in the middle of JULY? Lame.

No fewer than three people have called/e-mailed to tell me about Lance's big coming out party, which probably was only news to me as fandom is generally at least three days ahead of The Associated Press.

Why yes, that scene in the flashback Gilmore Girls episode with 16-year-old Lorelai sitting alone in the hospital emergency room waiting to be admitted because she was in labor with Rory listening to 99 Luftballons was the saddest thing I've seen in forever.

Booked eight-day vacation to Atlanta. Ostensibly for DragonCon, more importantly for heady amounts of caffeine and sleep deficit in the company of [livejournal.com profile] walkingshadow and our Haaahvard friend. [GLEE]

My electronic family welcomed a PlayStation 2 with Guitar Hero last night. Mother is doing joyfully, even if her fingers aren't.

I missed Rodney's line about downloading porn in Misbegotten, which would have QUADRPLAGESATED my enjoyment. Though the rest of you are doing a good job of working me over, too.

Brandon is sitting across from me at the dining room table, eating cereal with one hand while reading my British copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in the other. It's like we've skipped past all the stupid stuff that usually trips up relationships and went straight to old married couple.
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Working is interesting. I keep having these little moments, walking down a tiled hallway with my heels clicking, and I look down and I'm wearing grey slacks and a black suit jacket and have a keycard dangling from my pocket and calling the New York Times Company Employee Services Center to set up my payroll account and will imminently be in a roomful of grown-ups treating me like I was one of them. Granted, I'm far from working the conventional nine-to-five or wanting to take my anger out on office technology, but I'm a little less mystified by something I've wondered about since being very young: How does the world work?

No, really, how do I have running water to shower with and food to buy and all the other invisible processes that make life possible? Well, now I know how that newspaper got on my doorstep every morning (though that one I learned from the bottom-up, helping my mom deliver them when my parents had to do that sort of thing to make ends meet). I know why people get certain jobs and locked out of others. I get why they go to work, but I also get just wanting to get back to what you were doing before you had to leave it mid-sentence to jump in the shower and leave to get there.

I also think about the fact that I'm not the youngest person I know in fandom anymore. I remember being on the XFR mailing list (when those were still en vogue) and hating being 13 because I wanted to go to Boston and Texas and meet all these fabulously funny and smart women and drink and talk about the show until all hours of the morning. I think now about what kind of role I can reasonably allot that once-essential part of my life.

After coming across oogobs of brochures from my senior year of high school in some box the other day, I'm thinking about not being in college anymore, about how maybe I wasted my potential by not applying to some small snooty school at the foot of some far-off mountain and dedicated four years of my life to walking barefoot no matter what the weather and reading books that don't exist outside of their libraries. That maybe I would've learned something completely different and ended up worlds away from here.

I wonder what I would've become and what's next at age 23. [shakes head]

Mostly, I wonder about the fact that everything I knew how to do - go to class, take tests, fulfill marginal else in the way of responsibility and fuck off anytime I wanted at only my own expense - is over. And what is next? Is work all there is from here on in? What is this "life" you speak of, and how does one get it, exactly?

So tonight, I snuck off after the last page was done with my iPod Shuffle and danced like a loon in a deserted hallway just outside the newsroom to Come Out and Play. Ben walked by and almost caught me, at which I froze and flushed crimson, thank god for the relatively low evening lighting, but it felt so good. So... normal.

News that goes sparkle and pop. )

In The Hive news, what she said here. I've been wondering this very thing, about the WINDFALL of drug addict!fic that should've spilled forth from it, but have found nothing. Nothing! Fandom, you work in mysterious ways.

The men of my week are Conan and the Max Weinberg Seven - the former for taking his desk out tonight (I LIVE for cheap blue-screen comedy with shotgun straightmen) and the latter for playing Kelly Clarkson's Since You Been Gone during the "walkover" so Conan could razz them about it extensively. Also the fact that they're taking the show to Finland because they allegedly worship him like a golden god for looking like their prime minister. And he's going to be this massive dork about it, though they'll want to wrap him in furs and knight him. [heart]

And since it seems like the time of year for unpopular opinions... )

I really should've gone to bed four hours ago, but being caught up on the friendslist, especially after all of Anthony's talk about claiming something for myself separate from the office, seemed more necessary.

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Eva

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