Two hours left in the day, yay.
Neighbor's alarm going off again repeatedly at 2 a.m. not long after I fell into bed? Check. I hate them; they must die. Painfully. And often. I'm beyond tired now and really seriously verging on crankypants today, though I've kind of been a bit crankypants all weekend so that's really not a huge change. *g*
Speaking of pants, today I'm wearing trousers--yes, I have on pants, not a skirt, you can all be shocked, I do actually wear them...sometimes--that are driving me crazy because they keep twisting to one side every time I move and good God Almighty, how does anyone manage in pants every day? THEY ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. No, really, they're not. (I know, I know. I'm weird...)
In other news, I talked to my mother for the first time in over a week last night and we had the following conversation:
Mama: So how are your ankles?
Femme: *suspiciously* What do you mean?
Mama: You sprained both of them, didn't you?
Femme: *silence* How did you know that? I haven't talked to you since it happened.
Mama: I'm your mother. I know all.
Femme: Well, stop it. *pause, then slightly panicked* No, seriously, how did you know?
Mama: Your blog. How else am I supposed to keep up with you? You don't call, you don't write...I left two messages for you this weekend and you're only just now calling me back--you know I could be dead--
Femme: Someone would email me. Look, you're not reading my LJ again are you because you know I claim no responsibility for what you stumble on there--
Mama: *snort* I do not want to actually read your blog. Your sister told me. She tells me everything. Since you don't.
Femme: Oh, hell no she doesn't. *runs through the blackmail material I have on mulberry_ink just in case my sister has, oh I don't know, LOST HER MIND or something*
Mama: Well, if you'd pick up the phone once in a while...one day I really am going to be dead and then what will you do?
Femme: Not worry about you reading my LJ?
Mama: *a pause, then calmly* I'm sure heaven has an Internet connection.
I heart my mother. :D
Also, in regards to Gerard Way...dudes. You guys. The man actually did it. W-T-F, Gee. *dies laughing* I've seen the public record for the license dated 9/4 thanks to a friend who double-checked today to see if it'd been filed. (And no, I'm not telling you how to find it...it's seriously not that hard, if you really feel the need to confirm.) I just. You guys, HE MARRIED (or is marrying) GIRL!FRANK. This really shouldn't amuse me as much as it evidently does. But. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. My shrink would have a field day with that one.
No, really. For those of you who aren't obsessed have no idea who I'm talking about...let's compare.
The new Mrs Way:
Fandom's Mrs Way:
*raises eyebrow and looks at Gerard* Let's try that again shall we?
Lyn-Z. (Okay, I get the snickers typing that every single time. Although, dude, she's hot. Like seriously hot. SERIOUSLY.)
Frank. Also seriously hot.
ONE MORE TIME! Lyn-Z.
And Frank.
AND AGAIN. Lyn-Z.
And FRANK.
WHAT THE FUCK, GEE. DISPLACEMENT, MUCH? *dies laughing*
Seriously, I hope they're very happy together. But honestly, being a rather cynical person who is somewhat skeptical that you can marry your True Love(tm) after only one month of dating, Sandra Bullock movies be damned...I give 'em a year. What? That's actually really supportive of me. Usually I give these types of things six months. I'm a bit jaded when it comes to marriage, I'm afraid. :/
And this is for my fellow Adrien Brody fen...in particular jjtaylor who I've already sent this to via email but dude. It should be shared. Seriously.
...
Gott im Himmel, the man is pretty. I am the worst lesbian ever.
And now I have to go back to work. Le sigh. Le very big sigh.
Speaking of pants, today I'm wearing trousers--yes, I have on pants, not a skirt, you can all be shocked, I do actually wear them...sometimes--that are driving me crazy because they keep twisting to one side every time I move and good God Almighty, how does anyone manage in pants every day? THEY ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. No, really, they're not. (I know, I know. I'm weird...)
In other news, I talked to my mother for the first time in over a week last night and we had the following conversation:
Mama: So how are your ankles?
Femme: *suspiciously* What do you mean?
Mama: You sprained both of them, didn't you?
Femme: *silence* How did you know that? I haven't talked to you since it happened.
Mama: I'm your mother. I know all.
Femme: Well, stop it. *pause, then slightly panicked* No, seriously, how did you know?
Mama: Your blog. How else am I supposed to keep up with you? You don't call, you don't write...I left two messages for you this weekend and you're only just now calling me back--you know I could be dead--
Femme: Someone would email me. Look, you're not reading my LJ again are you because you know I claim no responsibility for what you stumble on there--
Mama: *snort* I do not want to actually read your blog. Your sister told me. She tells me everything. Since you don't.
Femme: Oh, hell no she doesn't. *runs through the blackmail material I have on mulberry_ink just in case my sister has, oh I don't know, LOST HER MIND or something*
Mama: Well, if you'd pick up the phone once in a while...one day I really am going to be dead and then what will you do?
Femme: Not worry about you reading my LJ?
Mama: *a pause, then calmly* I'm sure heaven has an Internet connection.
I heart my mother. :D
Also, in regards to Gerard Way...dudes. You guys. The man actually did it. W-T-F, Gee. *dies laughing* I've seen the public record for the license dated 9/4 thanks to a friend who double-checked today to see if it'd been filed. (And no, I'm not telling you how to find it...it's seriously not that hard, if you really feel the need to confirm.) I just. You guys, HE MARRIED (or is marrying) GIRL!FRANK. This really shouldn't amuse me as much as it evidently does. But. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. My shrink would have a field day with that one.
No, really. For those of you who aren't obsessed have no idea who I'm talking about...let's compare.
The new Mrs Way:
Fandom's Mrs Way:
*raises eyebrow and looks at Gerard* Let's try that again shall we?
Lyn-Z. (Okay, I get the snickers typing that every single time. Although, dude, she's hot. Like seriously hot. SERIOUSLY.)
Frank. Also seriously hot.
ONE MORE TIME! Lyn-Z.
And Frank.
AND AGAIN. Lyn-Z.
And FRANK.
WHAT THE FUCK, GEE. DISPLACEMENT, MUCH? *dies laughing*
Seriously, I hope they're very happy together. But honestly, being a rather cynical person who is somewhat skeptical that you can marry your True Love(tm) after only one month of dating, Sandra Bullock movies be damned...I give 'em a year. What? That's actually really supportive of me. Usually I give these types of things six months. I'm a bit jaded when it comes to marriage, I'm afraid. :/
And this is for my fellow Adrien Brody fen...in particular jjtaylor who I've already sent this to via email but dude. It should be shared. Seriously.
...
Gott im Himmel, the man is pretty. I am the worst lesbian ever.
And now I have to go back to work. Le sigh. Le very big sigh.