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Now that I've been fed proper nutrition for the first time in four days, I feel like I can put together a somewhat cogent post.
Hi. Not dead, though not for lack of trying. Online Comm final project is as done as it could humanly get despite my best efforts, and I can't thank enough everyone, mostly perfect strangers and isn't fandom funny that way, who responded to my last post about it. My father actually did what he said he would, when he would, and I therefore still have a place to live next semester. Lost charmed me right to my littlest finger and toe, my one indulgence in the past four days' strictly enforced isolation of coding. The weather outside is positively gorgeous, and my lungs couldn't be happier for finally getting to share in the rarefied winter air. Thanks go out to Snow Patrol and Franz Ferdinand for keeping even the weest of hours lively and even bigger thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
walkingshadow, who's been extraordinarily supportive of my slacker ass through it all. She might be Slytherin and I Gryffindor, but that seems to hamper our dynamic not at all. canadiankracka, your card came in today's mail, a lovely respite amidst a week's worth of credit card offers and bills. I need to put together a greeting card poll. I need to up that sleep total for the past five days to more than 15 hours and not go on a cereal/coffee/Hot Pocket diet ever again. I need for the universe to explain why boys on scooters "Hey, baby!" me on days I'm walking around in a frumpy sweatshirt, not having showered for three days and obviously not having slept much over the course of them either. I remember reading a fic once where Lance was hit on in line at a Chinese restaurant in his post-gym sweats. Except that fine-sheen-of-sweat look/smell is invariably more attractive on guys, and yet, here we are. Mad, mad, mad, mad world, right?
I need to stop now before this gets any further out of hand. Just wanted to wave my hopeful white flag that this week is over, and I'm still standing.
[ETA: Still [heart] that Radcliffe kid. Case in point:
From The Leaky Cauldron. The cute that is that arrow crippled all rational thought for a good minute or so last night. After a certain number of hours, it's all about the little things. There's also one of him looking like he's gonna climb into Conan O'Brien's lap as well as a short new clip from the PoA set where Alfonso has to call him and Rupert Grint three times before they emerge from behind some stone scaffolding. What's not to love is beyond me. That could just be the brainwashing effects of too many hours spent coding Harry Potter miscellany, but no, I think just love.]
Hi. Not dead, though not for lack of trying. Online Comm final project is as done as it could humanly get despite my best efforts, and I can't thank enough everyone, mostly perfect strangers and isn't fandom funny that way, who responded to my last post about it. My father actually did what he said he would, when he would, and I therefore still have a place to live next semester. Lost charmed me right to my littlest finger and toe, my one indulgence in the past four days' strictly enforced isolation of coding. The weather outside is positively gorgeous, and my lungs couldn't be happier for finally getting to share in the rarefied winter air. Thanks go out to Snow Patrol and Franz Ferdinand for keeping even the weest of hours lively and even bigger thanks to
walkingshadow, who's been extraordinarily supportive of my slacker ass through it all. She might be Slytherin and I Gryffindor, but that seems to hamper our dynamic not at all. canadiankracka, your card came in today's mail, a lovely respite amidst a week's worth of credit card offers and bills. I need to put together a greeting card poll. I need to up that sleep total for the past five days to more than 15 hours and not go on a cereal/coffee/Hot Pocket diet ever again. I need for the universe to explain why boys on scooters "Hey, baby!" me on days I'm walking around in a frumpy sweatshirt, not having showered for three days and obviously not having slept much over the course of them either. I remember reading a fic once where Lance was hit on in line at a Chinese restaurant in his post-gym sweats. Except that fine-sheen-of-sweat look/smell is invariably more attractive on guys, and yet, here we are. Mad, mad, mad, mad world, right?I need to stop now before this gets any further out of hand. Just wanted to wave my hopeful white flag that this week is over, and I'm still standing.
[ETA: Still [heart] that Radcliffe kid. Case in point:
From The Leaky Cauldron. The cute that is that arrow crippled all rational thought for a good minute or so last night. After a certain number of hours, it's all about the little things. There's also one of him looking like he's gonna climb into Conan O'Brien's lap as well as a short new clip from the PoA set where Alfonso has to call him and Rupert Grint three times before they emerge from behind some stone scaffolding. What's not to love is beyond me. That could just be the brainwashing effects of too many hours spent coding Harry Potter miscellany, but no, I think just love.]
