Also, I have moringa tea
Oh, media. Oh, magazines. Oh, gossip pages. Why, oh why, oh fucking why, must you continuously pretend that there is some nutty battle between Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston over Brad Pitt? It was seven years ago. Get the bloody motherfucking fuck over it. There was no affair. There was no home-wrecking. When a married couple separates and files for divorce, each party is free to date other people. They've all said over and over that Pitt never cheated with Jolie because his marriage to Aniston was already over. Co-star becomes good friend after marriage separation becomes lover after filming of movie wraps.
Personally, I always loved Angelina and was always puzzled by Jennifer, but I really can't understand why tabloids and gossip sites are still desperate to pit them against each other. (Heh, pit... Pitt...) Yes, Angelina's engagement ring is beautiful. Why are you comparing it to an engagement ring that her fiance gave his ex-wife over a freaking decade ago? Seriously? Wait, why am I even talking about this? Why is it splashed all over the news sites I visit? I don't want to care. I just want to see the pretty ring. That's all. I like shiny things. I like shiny rings with sentimental significance. I like Angelina Jolie. I like Brad Pitt. They too are shiny. Maybe that's it. Everything is shiny. *FUCKING HEADDESK*
I'm tired and I don't want to think about this anymore. Everybody just shut up and go gossip about, oh, I don't know, Charlie Sheen, he's always entertaining.
In other news, which deserves more attention:
Oh, this is monumentally stupid. I kept slipping and nearly falling during a twenty minute walk and also got progressively dizzy. This is the most ridiculous part of my disability package. I'm surprised I made it up my stairs without falling over. The soft carpeted stairs, whee! Hm. Well, now I'm on seizure watch for a few hours. I have warned the cats.
Did I sleep last night? I completely forget. I think I slept in hour-long spurts with barely any Stage 3 cycling and essentially no Stage 4. I might have hit REM state once. After the passion flower pills. Oy.
I'm having a fibromyalgia flare, a spastic cerebral palsy hypertonic flare, near-total muscle weakness of varying sorts everywhere, a headache, allergies, and a low appetite so low that all I care about is a few spoonfuls of Greek yogurt with honey. Also, while I enjoy weather in the 80s, I don't do well when it happens like surprise, heat!
I've started having dreams about my new fandom, interspersed with dreams from my old fandom. This should be psychologically fascinating. Ninja Turtles and magic Little Ponies. Huh.
Personally, I always loved Angelina and was always puzzled by Jennifer, but I really can't understand why tabloids and gossip sites are still desperate to pit them against each other. (Heh, pit... Pitt...) Yes, Angelina's engagement ring is beautiful. Why are you comparing it to an engagement ring that her fiance gave his ex-wife over a freaking decade ago? Seriously? Wait, why am I even talking about this? Why is it splashed all over the news sites I visit? I don't want to care. I just want to see the pretty ring. That's all. I like shiny things. I like shiny rings with sentimental significance. I like Angelina Jolie. I like Brad Pitt. They too are shiny. Maybe that's it. Everything is shiny. *FUCKING HEADDESK*
I'm tired and I don't want to think about this anymore. Everybody just shut up and go gossip about, oh, I don't know, Charlie Sheen, he's always entertaining.
In other news, which deserves more attention:
Oh, this is monumentally stupid. I kept slipping and nearly falling during a twenty minute walk and also got progressively dizzy. This is the most ridiculous part of my disability package. I'm surprised I made it up my stairs without falling over. The soft carpeted stairs, whee! Hm. Well, now I'm on seizure watch for a few hours. I have warned the cats.
Did I sleep last night? I completely forget. I think I slept in hour-long spurts with barely any Stage 3 cycling and essentially no Stage 4. I might have hit REM state once. After the passion flower pills. Oy.
I'm having a fibromyalgia flare, a spastic cerebral palsy hypertonic flare, near-total muscle weakness of varying sorts everywhere, a headache, allergies, and a low appetite so low that all I care about is a few spoonfuls of Greek yogurt with honey. Also, while I enjoy weather in the 80s, I don't do well when it happens like surprise, heat!
I've started having dreams about my new fandom, interspersed with dreams from my old fandom. This should be psychologically fascinating. Ninja Turtles and magic Little Ponies. Huh.