Things that have nothing to do with love life angst.
-- I ordered season seven of Buffy and received it today. The photoshoppery is so terrible it looks like they cut-and-pasted season four heads on top of season seven bodies. Everyone looks horrible and plastic, except for Emma Caulfield. I bet she slept with the whole graphic design department.
-- 'Just put it in your mouth.'
-- So far, War for the Oaks has been excellent.
-- I'm getting a stress zit. I fucking hate those. No one stare at it-- I'll try and pretend I don't look disfigured.
-- Thank the dear sweet lord my roommate is back. And, as a bonus, she didn't freak out about the plumbing bill.
-- This time, the red dye took-- but it's very very dark red. Goth red, almost.
-- My stepfather actually called to see if I was okay, because I looked upset this weekend. Somebody check the angelic concordances-- I think this may be a sign of an impending apocalypse.
-- I can't wait to get my tax return check. I need a new pair of combat boots, as mine are sadly falling apart. I really like these.
-- Beginning to research how to turn someone into a toad. Oh wait, I said this post wasn't about relationship angst.
-- Trader Joe's toffee walnut cake makes it all better.
-- Aster's grandfather apparently reads my livejournal. So, uh-- hi, Aster's grandpop!
-- Agnes luring Gypsy back to her cage with vanilla pudding was the second funniest thing I've seen this week. The first was her rendition of 'the five positions of feminine subjugation' from Stage Beauty.
-- Note to self: the Paper Moon diner makes an already-awkward situation even moreso.
-- I got to have Heather all to myself for a whole meal. Score.
-- My fourteen year old brother is learning to play the electric guitar, and surprisingly, he doesn't suck. I joked that he should play 'All Along the Watchtower,' and he just blinked at me. The kid has never heard Jimi. Suddenly, I know what to get him for his birthday.
-- 'Oh, come on! You know that if the vagina was on any other part of your body, you'd put a band-aid over it!'
-- See: 'Just put it in your mouth.'
Worn out, weary, but not dead yet.
-- 'Just put it in your mouth.'
-- So far, War for the Oaks has been excellent.
-- I'm getting a stress zit. I fucking hate those. No one stare at it-- I'll try and pretend I don't look disfigured.
-- Thank the dear sweet lord my roommate is back. And, as a bonus, she didn't freak out about the plumbing bill.
-- This time, the red dye took-- but it's very very dark red. Goth red, almost.
-- My stepfather actually called to see if I was okay, because I looked upset this weekend. Somebody check the angelic concordances-- I think this may be a sign of an impending apocalypse.
-- I can't wait to get my tax return check. I need a new pair of combat boots, as mine are sadly falling apart. I really like these.
-- Beginning to research how to turn someone into a toad. Oh wait, I said this post wasn't about relationship angst.
-- Trader Joe's toffee walnut cake makes it all better.
-- Aster's grandfather apparently reads my livejournal. So, uh-- hi, Aster's grandpop!
-- Agnes luring Gypsy back to her cage with vanilla pudding was the second funniest thing I've seen this week. The first was her rendition of 'the five positions of feminine subjugation' from Stage Beauty.
-- Note to self: the Paper Moon diner makes an already-awkward situation even moreso.
-- I got to have Heather all to myself for a whole meal. Score.
-- My fourteen year old brother is learning to play the electric guitar, and surprisingly, he doesn't suck. I joked that he should play 'All Along the Watchtower,' and he just blinked at me. The kid has never heard Jimi. Suddenly, I know what to get him for his birthday.
-- 'Oh, come on! You know that if the vagina was on any other part of your body, you'd put a band-aid over it!'
-- See: 'Just put it in your mouth.'
Worn out, weary, but not dead yet.