Welcome to Saturday, land of enchantment.
I am updating from Chris's computer, as, due to the lack of DSL here in Santa Cruz (woe), I cannot actually get Viv connected to the Internet. Woe. Woe and weeping and wailing and the gnashing of teeth. (Actually, not particularly bothered, as I managed to download the second episode of the The O.C., and can get Threshold [aka Data and the Midget] when I get home. So I'm not genuinely overwrought. I just really like typing the word 'woe'. Woe.) Since I am still not a bendy toy, I'm watching Lilly 'help' Chris clean the apartment. 'Helping', when you're a Siamese teenager, is much like 'helping' when you're a three year old boy. Only more articulate.
Yes, O.C. fans, I watched episode two, and I'll comment on it later, but for now: Summer owns me, we all knew this, Rachel Bilson is my new bitch-goddess, and I would pit Summer Roberts against Cordelia Chase any day. And Sum would win, and keep her social standing, and keep her hot geek boyfriend, because unlike our dear Miss Chase, she actually owns her God-given rage.
In a very little bit, I will put on clothing (beyond my purple nightgown, so stop picturing me naked, Sunil), and we will drive back to the South Bay to collect Meredith and have breakfast at Applebee's before going to my OVFF rehearsal in Fremont. I have a cunning plan that involves tricking Chris and Mer into taking me to frozen yogurt after food. It mostly involves the word 'please'. Oddly, I find that cunning plans involving 'please' will usually get me to yogurt, whereas cunning plans involving the release of a virus that turns people into flesh-eating zombies usually just gets me eaten. This understanding is why I am a better friend than, say, the chief executive officer of the Umbrella Corporation would be.
Wow. I don't just wallow in pop culture, I take expensive healing mud treatments in it. The spa of the common media. Good to know!
Today, I'm going to jump high, cheer loud, and look pretty. Then again, I do this pretty much every day, so it's not like it's anything specifically new. (Lilly is now 'helping' by climbing behind the X-Box. Go, Lilly. Enjoy your chaotic little kitten life.)
Catch y'all after rehearsal.
Yes, O.C. fans, I watched episode two, and I'll comment on it later, but for now: Summer owns me, we all knew this, Rachel Bilson is my new bitch-goddess, and I would pit Summer Roberts against Cordelia Chase any day. And Sum would win, and keep her social standing, and keep her hot geek boyfriend, because unlike our dear Miss Chase, she actually owns her God-given rage.
In a very little bit, I will put on clothing (beyond my purple nightgown, so stop picturing me naked, Sunil), and we will drive back to the South Bay to collect Meredith and have breakfast at Applebee's before going to my OVFF rehearsal in Fremont. I have a cunning plan that involves tricking Chris and Mer into taking me to frozen yogurt after food. It mostly involves the word 'please'. Oddly, I find that cunning plans involving 'please' will usually get me to yogurt, whereas cunning plans involving the release of a virus that turns people into flesh-eating zombies usually just gets me eaten. This understanding is why I am a better friend than, say, the chief executive officer of the Umbrella Corporation would be.
Wow. I don't just wallow in pop culture, I take expensive healing mud treatments in it. The spa of the common media. Good to know!
Today, I'm going to jump high, cheer loud, and look pretty. Then again, I do this pretty much every day, so it's not like it's anything specifically new. (Lilly is now 'helping' by climbing behind the X-Box. Go, Lilly. Enjoy your chaotic little kitten life.)
Catch y'all after rehearsal.