An Easy How-To Guide for Future Prospectors

I was hit on tonight, in a show of even *more* horrifically spectacular incompetence than my attempt at taping the Buffy finale Tuesday night. This is for all the folks who have ever given even idle thought to wooing me. I do this as a public service to myself mostly, but I daresay it's a solid framework for most people.

( You don't have to be cool to rule my world - but a little common sense never hurt anyone. )

I'm a good person - I also have a very real problem with telling people directly that I'm not interested, though my copious hinting over the course of the evening probably made Sherlock Holmes roll over in his fictional grave and groan. I'm almost ready to never be hit on again.

Sean, the most gracious knight in shining armor ever, co-conspired to orchestrate an elaborate rescue, and I'm now enjoying the calming peace of a white chocolate Reese's and having my computer alive and well. *hugs her CPU* Don't you ever do that to me again! *squeezes it some more*

T'was a goodly day.

So, I caught MTV Cribs this morning, just as they were frolicing around one Howie Dorough's beachside penthouse.

Holy good god! Now, I know he's known as "the Gay One" of Backstreet, but jeezlepetes! Possessed with JC's vibe and Lance's execution, he's an absolutely darling conglomerate, creating one of the most adorably gayest gay boys ever! Am utterly charmed.

There was a spontaneous party at chez Werkmeister. Highlight of the evening was our household's introduction to a mixed drink called Blowjob, which resulted in much cross-room shouting of "lemme give you a Blowjob, see how you like it," "where's my Blowjob already," "gimme that Blowjob, dammit," and "dude, I want another Blowjob." Yes, we are in fact a group of twelve-year olds.

*cherishes all the pretty pretty WireImage pics of Clay from last night*

Big, *big* hugs to the ladies of giddyupnow. A: I'll call tomorrow with news, which *will* be good I don't care how many flunkies I'll have to go through. S: You know you're just having too much fun. *g*

My snarkier than your average knight in shining armor, Sean, is whisking me away for a weekend of snorkeling in the Keys with some friends, and I couldn't be more excited. We're hitting up Sports Authority on Saturday for equipment.

I'm to bed, as speaking of hitting up places, I'll be at the Pembroke Road CompUSA grand opening bright and early, where I've been promised a free (!?) DVD player as part of the festivities.

Ed. Note: This was by far the most unsurprising yet amusing part of my day:
( I am Diva Justin, do as my hips and pout command! )

He's JC, the rest of us are mere mortals lucky enough to live in his time.

Okay, so that Chasez boy with his 'fro and manpurse and back pocket hankies, writing songs about cybersex, riding space cowboys, anonymous hook-ups under disco balls, and, for his latest trick, girl-on-woman dancing, might possibly be the epitome of all that is endearing in this world. But then, *then* I find out he's a War-playing, coffee-in-a-bookstore-date-lovin' fool, and can't help squealing lovelovelove! And nothing but. July is a thousand years away.

Speaking of which:

Ticketmaster.com, however, is Satan incarnate. It's been telling me nothing but that my Challenge ticket order has been cancelled for the past week. I haven't let this worry me, since that was supposed to be the natural order of things according to the fan club newsletter. But it's been a week of being tied in one human-sized Gregorian Knot and still nothing. Placed a phone call. The nice lady told me to take deep, cleansing breaths during the natural pauses my somewhat, erm, urgent-sounding narrative of the situation. She puts in my confirmation number - seats had been assigned back on the 11th, the day I'd ordered the tickets.

...

So, no cookies for the webmasters, overladen gift baskets to her. Ladies! Venue information:

Saturday: Section G Row 16 Seats 20-23
Sunday: Section 131 Row 6 Seats 4-7

Yeah, it means as much to me as it does to you, I'm sure. However, them's fan club presale seats, all ours, and nothing to do but get us all properly slathered in suntan lotion to watch the madness unfold.

I feel a little like singing.

[Ed. Note: Mail call! *NSYNCLand DVDs and my own spankin' new, beautiful, *signed* JC headshot! *swoon* And! And! Because I do in fact have the ostentatiously cool privilege of knowing the single most generous person in this entire fandom, one of the JC/Tony House of Blues promotional stills! *has since melted into a schmoopy puddle* They look so wonderful, almost like in the Now and Forever video except standing! Nostalgia city, man. Although I really think the 'Do Not Bend' mailing stamp should be amended to 'Bend Under Pain of Death' for packages like this. Eeeeee! Thank you.]

Day Twenty-Three

Due to technical and personal difficulties I dropped the ball yesterday. Here be Day Twenty-Two.



I adore this picture. It's platinum!Lance, and in this moment he looks every bit his age and inexperience, as well as their collective unreadiness and astonishment at the sudden meteoric rise of their stock after working so hard for so long. It looks like a realization moment, a flash of insight or clarity where everything that's blindsided you finally sinks through skin and flesh and bone into the marrow, becomes so real you can feel it. He looks like he just woke up to realize they had become world-reknown popstars while he was sleeping.

Disarm by Jae

Lance had never fought the changes, he had just been slower than the others to realize they were necessary. Once he decided he needed a mask, he worked at it with the same dogged determination that he brought to everything he did. He knew his own strengths and limitations, knew he lacked JC's blinding talent, Joey's reflexive charm, Chris' lightning mind, Justin's captivating grace. What he possessed was a systematic intelligence, a brutal persistence, a relentless discipline.

Oh, Lance. *hugs him tight* The fact that he's in fact nothing as cold and jaded as this is a testament to the boys, and I thank them in so many ways for looking out for him when it would've been so easy to become that hardened in their line of work.