PS Dear Internets, ILU the mostest, but seriously, it's spelled "per se". /twitchy
Having inexplicable feelings of weirded-out-ness, today. Not sure what that's all about. I think it's largely that it's the third day of a four day weekend (which, oh my god I cannot tell you how badly I need(ed) that- I haven't had this much time off work in one hit since, um, April last year, I think? I only ever took one day out from work for Allison and for G/T and for Armageddon respectively, so... yeah) but at the same time, I kind of feel like I haven't accomplished much. Which is irrational, because I know I have, and yet- I dunno. Time! Slow down! In a way that makes May and June come along faster at the same time! :D
For the record, this weekend I have:
-made, or, okay, watched Chris make an excellent French dessert. FIVE NOMS OUT OF NOM.
-accidently reverse psychologised myself into writing about 800 more words of a semi-crack fic that is showing worrying signs of Plot.
-watched really quite a lot of media (embarrassingly, did not twig that the dude in Superbad was, duh, PAULIE BLEEKER until I imdb'd him to find out why he was so familiar)
-redyed my hair for the third time this year (the front keeps washing out distressingly fast, and I look terrible blonde, so I had to redo that part. Since it's all you see when I live in ponytails).
-cooked dinner (and eaten a lot of chocolate).
-booked the last two flights I needed (meaning it's only the points where I needs must be a ground-dwelling creature, ie, Madison-Chicago and Philadelphia-Silver Spring that remain unorganised). For the record, I get into Philadelphia at oh GOD o'clock in the morning on Monday the 9th June, and I get into San Francisco at nine in the afternoon (come on! it's summer! and daylight savings! it totally won't be 'evening' then! :D) on Monday the 23rd June.
Also, things wot I have learned from youtube this weekend:
-It's entirely possible I love Bob Bryar best right now because he bravely stood tall for CATS when the rest of his band said "dogs". I may or may not have Paul Gross Armed supportively at the time.
-Bob claims to also be afraid of spiders. This pretty much just put me onto a train of thought that had him and Frank cowering away from an eensy wincy daddy-long-legs while Mikey picks it up and carefully flicks it out the bus window and doesn't say a word but is JUDGING THEM SO HARD behind his glasses the whole time. Tell me that wouldn't be adorable!
-Dudes, more seriously, Ray said he was afraid of flying? Because, oh, honey, wow, this is so not a job where you get to avoid that easily. If he was wholly serious then my respect and admiration for him has just shot up even stratospherically higher.
-FRANK. FRANK SAYING HIS FIANCEE IS WHAT TURNS HIM ON AND THEN HIS WHOLE BAND POUNCING ON HIM. AAAAAAAAAH THEIR STUPID FUCKING FACES I LOVE THEM THE END. (oh like we didn't all know this was going to degenerate into capslock, whatever.)
Wow, I'm sure I used to be a way more entertaining person. Heh. Right. Time to go try and immerse myself in canon so I can keep trying to figure out a way to wade out of the corner I just wrote myself into.
Edit: So, possibly-legit, possibly-not tour dates for Panic for the South Pacific have surfaced. I am torn between OH THANK GOD that I should be in the correct hemisphere and OH NOES DOOMED because if they are for real, Melbourne and Auckland (phew! I mean, okay, be less spoiled, self, those ARE the most important/most possible two for any number of reasons) are both the most doable - Melbourne being apparently a Saturday evening and Auckland being, well, where I live. Except I really want to do Sydney as well and there is no way that work will sign off on giving me another five days off (I'm nuts, but not nuts enough to fly across the Tasman and back twice in one week. Um. Yet, anyway. *facepalm*) so I could do that too. Drat. (I know. My life, so hard. *mocks self*)
For the record, this weekend I have:
-made, or, okay, watched Chris make an excellent French dessert. FIVE NOMS OUT OF NOM.
-accidently reverse psychologised myself into writing about 800 more words of a semi-crack fic that is showing worrying signs of Plot.
-watched really quite a lot of media (embarrassingly, did not twig that the dude in Superbad was, duh, PAULIE BLEEKER until I imdb'd him to find out why he was so familiar)
-redyed my hair for the third time this year (the front keeps washing out distressingly fast, and I look terrible blonde, so I had to redo that part. Since it's all you see when I live in ponytails).
-cooked dinner (and eaten a lot of chocolate).
-booked the last two flights I needed (meaning it's only the points where I needs must be a ground-dwelling creature, ie, Madison-Chicago and Philadelphia-Silver Spring that remain unorganised). For the record, I get into Philadelphia at oh GOD o'clock in the morning on Monday the 9th June, and I get into San Francisco at nine in the afternoon (come on! it's summer! and daylight savings! it totally won't be 'evening' then! :D) on Monday the 23rd June.
Also, things wot I have learned from youtube this weekend:
-It's entirely possible I love Bob Bryar best right now because he bravely stood tall for CATS when the rest of his band said "dogs". I may or may not have Paul Gross Armed supportively at the time.
-Bob claims to also be afraid of spiders. This pretty much just put me onto a train of thought that had him and Frank cowering away from an eensy wincy daddy-long-legs while Mikey picks it up and carefully flicks it out the bus window and doesn't say a word but is JUDGING THEM SO HARD behind his glasses the whole time. Tell me that wouldn't be adorable!
-Dudes, more seriously, Ray said he was afraid of flying? Because, oh, honey, wow, this is so not a job where you get to avoid that easily. If he was wholly serious then my respect and admiration for him has just shot up even stratospherically higher.
-FRANK. FRANK SAYING HIS FIANCEE IS WHAT TURNS HIM ON AND THEN HIS WHOLE BAND POUNCING ON HIM. AAAAAAAAAH THEIR STUPID FUCKING FACES I LOVE THEM THE END. (oh like we didn't all know this was going to degenerate into capslock, whatever.)
Wow, I'm sure I used to be a way more entertaining person. Heh. Right. Time to go try and immerse myself in canon so I can keep trying to figure out a way to wade out of the corner I just wrote myself into.
Edit: So, possibly-legit, possibly-not tour dates for Panic for the South Pacific have surfaced. I am torn between OH THANK GOD that I should be in the correct hemisphere and OH NOES DOOMED because if they are for real, Melbourne and Auckland (phew! I mean, okay, be less spoiled, self, those ARE the most important/most possible two for any number of reasons) are both the most doable - Melbourne being apparently a Saturday evening and Auckland being, well, where I live. Except I really want to do Sydney as well and there is no way that work will sign off on giving me another five days off (I'm nuts, but not nuts enough to fly across the Tasman and back twice in one week. Um. Yet, anyway. *facepalm*) so I could do that too. Drat. (I know. My life, so hard. *mocks self*)