![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I may possibly be the only woman on this earth who knows what my brother's favorite CD is. Not his mother, not his (ex)girlfriend of two years, not any of his friends since middle school - nope, his dirty little eponymous Savage Garden secret is safe with me. *g*
We wandered home around 10:30 this morning from the family Christmas dinner. After four glasses of wine, my general state of sleep deprivation, and too much seafood salad, mussels, and linguini, I fell asleep before dessert and no one had the heart to wake me. So in thanks, I swiped four cannolis and an assortment of pastries before we snuck out. Family gatherings, at least for my brood, are all about the exceptional food and plentiful spirits, so we made out like bandits this year.
Aah, dinner with the father tonight. Surprisingly pleasant, and I keep saying that so soon I won't get to whine about it. His new pet issue is studying in France at Sorbonne, something I'm not even a little averse to. Conveniently, they're building an institute for French study on campus as we speak. Shall look into it this coming semester.
What we're actively not thinking about right now is that there's every chance I didn't get that C minimum in Reporting last semester and that half my schedule will be a moot point. Nope, not at all.
We hit up a fantastic little dessert/cafe place on Sunny Isles Beach, where I had something called a Mind Eraser and something called a Mozart, a walnutty concoction with jagged slabs of white chocolate imprinted with musical notation sticking out of the top. Mmm.
On a cryptically related note, anyone happen to know JC's favorite color?
My MiniDisc player continues to hate me, but the Irving recap is done. Will post that soon. Also, while fiddling around with the incorrect audio cables from Best Buy, I discovered that my stereo has different playback features. The Live setting has the effect of bringing out the vocals in my recordings but minimizing the lead vocals on studio-mastered tracks. The porniest track on No Strings Attached is totally Space Cowboy. Fuckin' wow. In my heart of hearts I want to believe that's Lance talking and moaning through the whole thing, but I think I read somewhere that it's Justin. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Big big hugs to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silentfire for the kickin' package! A New York calendar and *NSYNC swag galore. I now have two matching folders for my JC notebook. You think people might know I play favorites? *g*
*checks the time* Oh, it's so to bed with me.
We wandered home around 10:30 this morning from the family Christmas dinner. After four glasses of wine, my general state of sleep deprivation, and too much seafood salad, mussels, and linguini, I fell asleep before dessert and no one had the heart to wake me. So in thanks, I swiped four cannolis and an assortment of pastries before we snuck out. Family gatherings, at least for my brood, are all about the exceptional food and plentiful spirits, so we made out like bandits this year.
Aah, dinner with the father tonight. Surprisingly pleasant, and I keep saying that so soon I won't get to whine about it. His new pet issue is studying in France at Sorbonne, something I'm not even a little averse to. Conveniently, they're building an institute for French study on campus as we speak. Shall look into it this coming semester.
What we're actively not thinking about right now is that there's every chance I didn't get that C minimum in Reporting last semester and that half my schedule will be a moot point. Nope, not at all.
We hit up a fantastic little dessert/cafe place on Sunny Isles Beach, where I had something called a Mind Eraser and something called a Mozart, a walnutty concoction with jagged slabs of white chocolate imprinted with musical notation sticking out of the top. Mmm.
On a cryptically related note, anyone happen to know JC's favorite color?
My MiniDisc player continues to hate me, but the Irving recap is done. Will post that soon. Also, while fiddling around with the incorrect audio cables from Best Buy, I discovered that my stereo has different playback features. The Live setting has the effect of bringing out the vocals in my recordings but minimizing the lead vocals on studio-mastered tracks. The porniest track on No Strings Attached is totally Space Cowboy. Fuckin' wow. In my heart of hearts I want to believe that's Lance talking and moaning through the whole thing, but I think I read somewhere that it's Justin. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Big big hugs to
silentfire for the kickin' package! A New York calendar and *NSYNC swag galore. I now have two matching folders for my JC notebook. You think people might know I play favorites? *g**checks the time* Oh, it's so to bed with me.
