huh?!

There's no real way he actually said this, right? I mean, I know they have their honest moments, but...

If this all doesn't work out, I think I'd be a great person to work at Banana Republic or The Gap. I'm a great judge of how someone's ass looks in a pair of khakis or cords. Most of it is God-given talent. But a lot just stems from years of observation.
-Lance, courtesy of The Shaaazay Cafe

in my ideal little world...

Hazelnut/French Roast coffee blend with a pinch of sugar and creamer is heavenly. So are the slippery slopes of popslash. Welcome, Ri. Lucky for you, I only purvey le bon crack.

I never post surveys. This one, however, struck close to home, seriously straight from whatever poorly-lit place within me where fantasies are born and nurtured. Does it say something about me that I daydream about walking down the streets of lower Manhattan and not the vast harem of fandom pretty? Possibly, though no one would call my tastes generic anyway. For now, it's the latter. If I have it my way, I'll live to claim the former:


You are a classic; the quintessential New Yorker.
You are cultured and love to travel, though you
wouldn't move from New York in a million years.
Then again, you may just be a tourist, trying
to see all the sights in a single day.


Which New York City subway line are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Yes. Someday.

Also? GIPitty GIP. Because they do.

I could go for a nice, smoky lounge and bitch typist right now.

I feel like writing, but not actually doing the writing. Tape recorder would only mean rambling and I'd have to get it down later anyway. So, updating as catharsis it is.

Oh, missed the Fandom People You Love meme. Snogs to isilya for being a talented, squee-happy fangirl. Much love and respect to pierydys for her wicked smarts and just being her wonderful self. popfantastic keeps me in wit and inspiration. mimesere's loveliness and good cheer never fail to make me genuinely happy, however I may've been feeling at the beginning of the conversation. And all the writers on my Friends list, seriously, because y'all are such brilliant, eloquent people. Thank you for sharing your talent and passion with the rest of us.

That's about all the sunshine this entry will manage. That was your official warning.

Just took inventory of what exactly makes me giddy about going home when there's so much shit to look forward to. Let's see now.

Jon, who has just been wonderful beyond the telling of it tonight, for which I thank him profusely. I'm a good writer and not someone he'll get tired of seeing, so says he. I'll take half that and be happy.
Fort Lauderdale Beach
Ice skating
Shopping
Barnes & Noble
Las Olas
maybe Nova, jury's still out on that one.

Okay. I can deal with the rest. *takes a deep breath*

I'm dropping MacroEconomics, if they'll still let me. There's no way I can even kid myself about catching up at this point.

Sigh. I lost a month in there. Not only that, I did that thing again, where everything is so big and many and out of my control and pressing that I go and exert control over the one thing I can, the one thing that will without fail make me happy, and have ergo gained probably a good five-to-sevenish pounds over the course of it. Fuck.Me. And really, it's fine with me, because I'm better now, and perfectly willing to do the aerobics thing again - hell, I even like it with Santa and Laura. But my father will notice and not let it escape verbal observation. My mother will notice but not say anything, and our annoying as fuck nosy pissant of a neighbor will make more underhanded derogatory remarks, for which I might actually slap him this time. I'm so very, very okay with myself, and yet these insipid morons who are supposed to love and support me band together to give me issues. I didn't need you to raise me, I turned out pretty decently despite your incompetence, and I sure as fuck don't need you to take inventory of my life now that I'm out of your jurisdiction.


Sigh. I feel a little better now. It's just, fuck off, you know? You didn't do it right the first time, fine, I'm still standing, but for fuck's sake, lay off me now that I'm old enough to do my own laundry and keep myself in college, okay? I may not be stellar at it, but maybe if you had a little faith to offer instead of criticism, it would go a long way to help that.

Apparently, one can't live on coffee and pastries alone. I think I know how it must feel to have speed coursing through my veins. I could go to bed ragingly hungry and wired right now and ruin all of tomorrow by getting negligible quality sleep. However, it's soup out of a can because dammit, something will get written tonight before I curl up in my bed.

This entry was very raw. I feel exposed and found wanting.

*just reminding herself* Lance and Joey are destined for each other in every way. Legolas's love for Aragorn is purer than virgin, white snow. JC is only getting exponentially more beautiful by the passing moment, and soon I will have a week to lounge in the sun and read Lord of the Rings. The epic is mostly plotted and stands ready to be spewed. I have a lot of music, an Ethernet connection to be used for good or evil, no obligation to perform another monologue in the near future.

I am a pretty, intelligent, occasionally funny and sometimes kooky person who loves herself despite the current tides of indecision, powerlessness, inadequacy, and vague despair that disturb her waters.

Tomorrow will be another day.