I actually just woke up. Had about six hours' sleep if that'll mean anything in the actual morning.

Good God. I can't even begin to fathom the kinds of deafness and ringing of the ears people have to contend with for the week after one of their concerts.

I'm sure we've all talked about building shrines to a favorite person, real or entertainment world. This is not an idle threat I make about Tiffany Rawlins. Seriously, as soon as I'm living in a space accomodating more than the minimalist life I currently lead, there'll be candles and flowers and incense and all the other proper accoutrements that any devoted worshipper has. Been searching for a story I read an age ago (before beginning The List) whose title and author had long since escaped me - I oughta know by now that it's more than likely her or Lise. Everyone go read for love or money right now. This is what I mean by Lambs as the pairing of versatility. Coming off of the Sandys, it's quite the shock of ice water.

I hate it when the same insipid video is concurrently playing on both VH1 and MTV. Why is every single male rap artist video about sitting around a mansion with gorgeous women, drinking by the poolside and flashing their ice. I'm unimpressed and, more importantly for the medium, unentertained.

A man was arrested for wearing a peace shirt, huh? Are we tar-and-feathering war supporters when CNN isn't looking, I wonder.

Well, having forgotten yesterday was Ash Wednesday and broken out the last bite of my chocolate stash just twenty minutes ago, I have to come up with something else to give up for Lent.

I can't even comment on the suicide bombers in Iraq targeting students. One of the most haunting bits of news I've ever heard came sometime in the wake of September 11th, about rebel group snipers picking off kids playing basketball on a high school gymnasium court. There are just no words.

Note to Self: Find Johnny B. Goode next time on XoloX.

Post-LOTR fic is hardening me up for a post-*NSYNC life. Yeah, Justin will go solo full-time, as will JC with a healthy dose of producing; Joey will probably act in one medium or another for the rest of his life, Chris will doubtlessly fall on his feet in some sort of record-managing capacity, and Lance, with his business savvy and connections will be one of those legendary suits on every kind of red carpet for a long time. It's the prospect of the direct aftermath of the group's dissolution that has me alternately torn up and fascinated. Thing is, and most people probably don't think this, but I think the boys' fans have taken them to heart like people talk about the Beatles. In working theory, they could keep doing what they do if they chose to, reinventing it in turns sure, but it's something that's entirely viable and open to them. They won't, for their own reasons, and from a writer's perspective it's interesting to think about how each of them will take it, what they'd do first, all that sort of stuff. I think the fans would take it worse than any of them, but it has been, is, and will continue to be a fascinating mythology to follow.

Uhm, okay, so yes. There's no not loving that Chasez kid. There just isn't. The boy is sunshine, the purest kind of delight you just have to lay out and bask in. And possibly a bigger dork than some of my friends.

In other news, I suck at Freecell.

it's neither here nor there

Before I begin, a marvy happy birthday to pop_tarts. Hope it was a good one, Lise.

So, Spring Break has officially begun for the University of Florida. I might not leave until Saturday though, sticking around for the Dance show that we can attend for extra credit in Acting tomorrow night.

But then, I might not leave until whenever.

My cellphone's been out of commission, owing to a bad charger, for the better part of two weeks now. I haven't spoken to my father since Valentine's Day, my mother since last Friday. I don't think I mentioned to either one of them when Spring Break begins. I do not feel compelled to call ahead now, mostly because I couldn't tell them concretely when I'd be getting in, and that would just be nagging and hurt feelings until I do and for days thereafter. Does this make me a bad daughter? My mother deserves better. I should want to go home. Moving right along.

God help me but I'm thinking about signing up to attend the taping of MTV's Spring Break on South Beach. But then, I want to go to the beach anyway. Because summer has indeed come, mercy and seasons be damned. We don't need no stiinkin' springtime...

What do I love? Online insta!translators. Two German sentences magicked into English in about as many seconds flat. Now that's useful.

Speaking of useful, made my first post over at radio_kfkd (a community for authors) today about the best point of view to tell a lengthy character-driven piece. Got some very interesting and thought-provoking responses, for which I thank the good populace. This fic will eat me alive yet, I swear. It already haunts my dreams, fills my waking contemplation. Better start getting *something* down soon or my brain might just shut down from not having enough RAM to run its other applications.

Also, I might be a colossal dork.

How well can you tell the story of two people through the eyes of others though? It seems to keep ending up flippant in my head somehow.