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saturn92103! Hit me up on AIM sometime - Moonbrat42 - I've remembered what so desperately needed to be shared with you the other night.
Spent the weekend in a photo essay black hole and perfecting my mah jongg technique.walkingshadow and I watched and whimpered through The Enemy Within - my captain! Imminent Apocalypse From the Tropics: Take Eleven is en route to us, even as Ivan still hasn't made up his mind about when, if at all, he's gonna drag his slacker self through our fair state. Seriously, as much as I love a good extended weekend, this can't continue.
Bought six shirts, caramel khaki pants, and new jeans at Old Navy for a whopping $105 and change. Got the check for the balance of my scholarship. Bought new jersey sheets, the happiest striped comforter ever, and a digital voice recorder at Target between playing Marco Polo across aisles withwalkingshadow and Staci. Found out how many buckets of money I saved by buying my textbooks online. Got my paycheck early. Treated myself to Farah's. Somewhere in there, I hope things evened out.
Speaking of textbooks, ran into the Ex-Boy who now works at GTI and has taken not a single one of my nearly five months of unreturned phone calls/IMs/text messages/e-mails as a hint that I might not be interested. In anything involving him. But no, he has to say 'hey' and 'can I help you' and before you know it, I'm babbling and rationalizing my behavior as work stress and post-trip depression and not telling him that I find him to be boring and insipid, which are just not good enough reasons to be mean enough to convey Stay Away to a person so obviously dense it's surprising the township hasn't yet collapsed upon him.
Earned my keep at work tonight, which is always satisfying. We still have no desk chief. This continues to irk the parts of me just itching to make the paper as good as I've known it to be. Because I wrote a headline who knows how many months ago I came across on an errant search tonight, and I didn't recognize it as mine at first, but damn did it make me want to read the article. Students begin roommate roulette with aces up their sleeves. It was about a new computer program being implemented at apartment complexes around town to create more compatible roommate matches. Not terribly interesting, yet here I am reading on because the headline got its claws in me. You know, anyone who says copy editors don't matter (*cough*myfather*cough*), that the writers are everything, has never seen an unedited story, has never passed by a genuis piece because of a dull-as-toast heading or lead, has never appreciated an impeccably punctuated, clear, grammatically correct, palatable prose for what it is - the product of a successful relationship.
In fannish news, Lance played cards and got photographed for his trouble thereby making us all winners, JC is a big fashion whore who's about to commit himself to a term hopefully less than nine months from announcement to actuality with another one in the oven, Justin is at a creative crossroads and just wants his momma and his advance copy of Tiger Woods' newest golf game starring himself, the appalling lack of pictures from Joey's wedding continues to be a sore topic, which brings us to Lance having allegedly met Jesse at a club function sponsored by his frat in Orlando, which, whatever its veracity, is a fantastic story.
As depressing as this was to read, it's not something I'm not familiar with as of late. You can't play Boys II Men or Sarah McLachlan in the same room lest you wish me to go crawling into the nearest corner to cry.
On which note, you also shouldn't let me read transcripts of Spock's death scene and Kirk's eulogy back-to-back. Like Seasons of Love - *instant* tears, man.
After fielding some spam from a purported Leo McCoy, I'm off to edit more pictures. Because, love.
saturn92103! Hit me up on AIM sometime - Moonbrat42 - I've remembered what so desperately needed to be shared with you the other night.Spent the weekend in a photo essay black hole and perfecting my mah jongg technique.
walkingshadow and I watched and whimpered through The Enemy Within - my captain! Imminent Apocalypse From the Tropics: Take Eleven is en route to us, even as Ivan still hasn't made up his mind about when, if at all, he's gonna drag his slacker self through our fair state. Seriously, as much as I love a good extended weekend, this can't continue.Bought six shirts, caramel khaki pants, and new jeans at Old Navy for a whopping $105 and change. Got the check for the balance of my scholarship. Bought new jersey sheets, the happiest striped comforter ever, and a digital voice recorder at Target between playing Marco Polo across aisles with
walkingshadow and Staci. Found out how many buckets of money I saved by buying my textbooks online. Got my paycheck early. Treated myself to Farah's. Somewhere in there, I hope things evened out.Speaking of textbooks, ran into the Ex-Boy who now works at GTI and has taken not a single one of my nearly five months of unreturned phone calls/IMs/text messages/e-mails as a hint that I might not be interested. In anything involving him. But no, he has to say 'hey' and 'can I help you' and before you know it, I'm babbling and rationalizing my behavior as work stress and post-trip depression and not telling him that I find him to be boring and insipid, which are just not good enough reasons to be mean enough to convey Stay Away to a person so obviously dense it's surprising the township hasn't yet collapsed upon him.
Earned my keep at work tonight, which is always satisfying. We still have no desk chief. This continues to irk the parts of me just itching to make the paper as good as I've known it to be. Because I wrote a headline who knows how many months ago I came across on an errant search tonight, and I didn't recognize it as mine at first, but damn did it make me want to read the article. Students begin roommate roulette with aces up their sleeves. It was about a new computer program being implemented at apartment complexes around town to create more compatible roommate matches. Not terribly interesting, yet here I am reading on because the headline got its claws in me. You know, anyone who says copy editors don't matter (*cough*myfather*cough*), that the writers are everything, has never seen an unedited story, has never passed by a genuis piece because of a dull-as-toast heading or lead, has never appreciated an impeccably punctuated, clear, grammatically correct, palatable prose for what it is - the product of a successful relationship.
In fannish news, Lance played cards and got photographed for his trouble thereby making us all winners, JC is a big fashion whore who's about to commit himself to a term hopefully less than nine months from announcement to actuality with another one in the oven, Justin is at a creative crossroads and just wants his momma and his advance copy of Tiger Woods' newest golf game starring himself, the appalling lack of pictures from Joey's wedding continues to be a sore topic, which brings us to Lance having allegedly met Jesse at a club function sponsored by his frat in Orlando, which, whatever its veracity, is a fantastic story.
As depressing as this was to read, it's not something I'm not familiar with as of late. You can't play Boys II Men or Sarah McLachlan in the same room lest you wish me to go crawling into the nearest corner to cry.
On which note, you also shouldn't let me read transcripts of Spock's death scene and Kirk's eulogy back-to-back. Like Seasons of Love - *instant* tears, man.
After fielding some spam from a purported Leo McCoy, I'm off to edit more pictures. Because, love.
