Hi, I'm Jules, and I'll be your stressmonkey for the rest of the month.

And I was doing so well, too.

Back to school, all tests aced before the break, all play and no work until Thursday, hallelujahlifeisgood, and then Le Chasez has to go and rock my boat with this special brand of insanity of a tour schedule. Have I not been a good fan, JC - devoted, indulgent, and enthusiastic? Where did we go so wrong?

Anyway.

( Everyone's problems should be so high-end, but honestly... )

So until such a time as events are somehow resolved, I see myself sustaining on various coffees and Gatorade, relatively no food (as opposed to my normally healthy, bountiful diet *rolls eyes*), erratic and secondhand sleep patterns, not enough antacids to counter that ulcer I'm genetically destined for within the next ten years, a lot of obsessive nail maintenance, mood swings, daydreaming, possibly some cracktastic writing, and being constantly strung so high, anyone else would snap after an hour of it.

Once I'm done with the paralyzing anxiety part.

Quote of the Day:

"You're not gonna have me eating your hippie food!"
-Emily

Because I gotta have faith, faith, faith.

There were, like, seven people in Editing this morning, and the assignment wasn't graded, which leads me to believe I may have missed an announcement somewhere in the Tuesday haze. S'all good though, as I got to go over the assignment with my prof before handing it in, which was much more an exercise in productivity than what's par for that class.

Fell in total lovelust with Come To Me on my walk to work last night in a way I wasn't quite before (not without the, ahem, "choreography" anyway). I think it was rhyssj who thanked JC for giving this song to the world, and I would have to agree.

Called my brother to thank him again for the PalmPilot, with which I holed up in Starbucks yesterday and again this morning in Einstein's because apparently, Lynncest plus JC needs a public forum and caffeine to get written.

Oh, and speaking of which, yes, Lynncest does have a theme song, and it's Jude's You Mama You. All that is unholy yet beautiful in my world summed up in a little over two minutes. *fans self*

All the JoLa from last night - ohmysquee. I nearly pulled something, I did. Seeing Lance several sheets to the wind and manhandling Joey is positively begging for fic, but the pictures will tide me nicely, too.

This song got me from zero to tearing up in the first two lines yesterday. Not that that was particularly tough, but man, it's gorgeous. Hit me up on AIM, and I'll send it to you.

[ETA: Kenny Loggins' Footloose will never ever be anything but Dee's songvid for me. *loves*]

*blink*

Well, then. Those seem to be tickets to Anaheim and Las Vegas. In my name. At will call, which only I can pick up, with my credit card and driver's license. Guess I've got no choice now but to go, eh? *grins hugely* Good.

Quote of the Day:

"Justin," JC started, and Justin glared at him. "If you're sure," he finally said, giving up. He did that a lot, where Justin was concerned. He really hoped Justin never glared at him when they were fighting over whether or not to have sex backstage before a show.
-Growing Pains by Gale

Oh my heart.

My heart! It palpitates with joy.

Can I get an O! T! P!

*flails helplessly* But look! They strut! Err, or a reasonable facsimile! And, catwalk! And...

I am not equipped.

But thank you, one and all, and goodnight.

Quote of the Night:

"Goop. I am goop. Send a container."
-Jules