In which I have determined (by default) which row to attempt for trope bingo, and thus am figuring out what to write and stuff. (In which I am planning a Lewis response for sex pollen--or, you know, designer drugs or whatever, non-magic style--that is somewhat Lewis/Hobson, Lewis/Hathaway, Hathaway&Hobson.) (In which there is a partially-written ( Read more... )

So today was fail, so much epic fail, and flailing and running and possibly alienating everyone I work with with my frenzied, crazy lady ways. But then there was delicious food and drinks and now there is baseball and Degrassi (needs more Adam), and. Weekends. How are they so awesome? Why are they so short? But, yay, TGIF featuring Full House, y' ( Read more... )

Things that are awesome: watching fandom light up with YULETIDEYLETIDEYULETIDE joy. (For the record, not that anyone cares, I nominated Treme, China Beach, Sarah Waters's The Night Watch, East West 101 & a little NHL RPF action by which I do in fact mean adding Shawn Thornton to the list of players already in the system. I am assuming about a ( Read more... )

So my gmail was hacked. AWESOME(not). I changed my password, etc., but not before about a million bounceback messages showed up in my inbox. But, NO, I did not send you anything around 5:10-5:15 (eastern) today. I repeat: IT WAS NOT ME.

This entry also lives at Dreamwidth. Comment here, there, anywhere.

(So for reasons that do not require explaining at this juncture, I get ESPN: The (World's Worst) Magazine. And this is the NEXT issue. And there's an article with Stephen Strasberg and Drew Storen--the Nats' two first rounders this year--and, man, it's entirely possible I ship it. By which I mean that I totally ship it ( Read more... )

So first I raged, raged against the signing of the Stupak amendment. Then I said, "Oh, it's warm outside." Then work, more raging, and a wistful glance (or ten) out the window. Such a Monday. Such a Monday Monday. At least it's almost Tuesday. And then Veterans Day. And then and then and.

I signed up for yuletide. I may change my offers, but my requests ( Read more... )

I am completely dreading my commute home later today. Just to say.

Also, in re: yuletide, I have a draft-shaped thing. I'd say I have a draft, but I woke up this morning and pulled it up and I somehow managed to make the entire section that says "blah blah [redacted for fandom spoilers]-cakes goes here" invisible to myself last night, so I need to ( Read more... )

Right now, a list of things that make me happy &/or less homicidal (because I really have to remind myself that such things do, in fact, exist): Twitch City, the My Chem blog (how are they REAL? I just. ♥&MCR;♥), Pedroia's new contract, morning reruns of The West Wing (seriously, the number of times I just go all heart-hands and say, "CLAUDIA JEAN ( Read more... )

True stories about me:

1. When I am already in a fragile mental space, Carlos Pena hitting a home run off Josh Beckett can and will drive me to huddle under the covers and (not cry, that didn't happen until morning*) pull my hood up and (then I fell asleep). Relatedly: baseball as emotional pick-me-up does not actually work when all you can say the ( Read more... )

1. my birthday is (too) fast approaching (it's almost august, y'all). things i have flirted with the idea of buying for myself: pawsox playoff tickets, a bruins 12-game pack, a person-sized tv, an ice cream maker, all the books, concert tickets, pretty shoes, a life.
   
   
2. other august goals: finish something, writing-wise, and go to brunch. go to portland ( Read more... )