i won't take you where you want to go
Two days left.
Two weeks and three days til I go home.
I miss home. I miss my bed, and my couch and my stupidly small kitchen. And my fireplace. And my LotR wall from circa 2002. And my psychotic, though amazingly lethargic cat.
Now I'm getting all emotional. And I feel like cunt for not being nicer to my dad. But he makes it so difficult cause he's such a fucking asshole. What makes it all the worse is that he doesn't REALISE that he's being an asshole, so he thinks horribly of us. Which is just... sad. If he starts in on the rum again this year, I'm joining him. Well, maybe not with rum, but red wine's looking pretty good these days. By the time we get the presents sorted, we could be right smashed. I'm sure my sister-in-law would be down for that. She's a great drinking partner.
Mom wants me to sing O Holy Night on Christmas Eve. I can barely listen to the song without crying (not because it's pretty or anything, as I think it's kinda cheesy, but because my dad use to sing it when he was well, and he is no longer well). Plus, hello, breath control? MEET THE LACK OF. Gah. Plus my diction sucks. Really sucks. I should go practice.
I want some Chomsky books. I feel smarter when I read them.
Apparently there's a new Slayers season. This amuses me. (OMG XELLOS!) I haven't watched that show since Junior High, I swear.
I am going through a period of intense Dean dislike. I'm kinda glad the show is on hiatus so I can get over this. I need more Sam. (In fact, to the point where the SWMAP is kicking around in my brain again. Sooo no ever going to happen (though I wish it would).)
I really wish I could write all these damned ideas down, instead of having them crowd up my head pointlessly. And I really wish that when a good friend has a problem, I could fucking help them. Instead of... not being able to help. Awkwardness and saying-the-wrong-thing, thy name is Fran. (Or possibly my first name, but why would I wanna call myself that? Bah.)
ETA: I've also made a ...kinda sad realisation. Or had a sad... whatever. So, I kind of imagine what it would be like to meet the people I admire, you know? What would we talk about, whether we'd be friends. And when thinking of Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki... well. I don't think we'd be friends. This makes me very sad. Wanna know why we wouldn't be?
Cause I can't see either of them enjoying classical music. Either at home, or in performance.
And this is STUPID, because I have plenty of friends who don't like good, I mean 'classical' music *stares pointedly at bean*. So why would it matter with them?
Maybe it's the superficiality of J2 fics. Or maybe it's that I'm cranky, and I'm belatedly turning into the music student I am supposed to have been these last three years. Or maybe it's that I've been thinking about my parents, and how their mutual love for good music has been their one true saving grace. Maybe it's that I really wish I had someone to fangirl musical things to. But seriously? This has dampened my love for them? How fucking bizarre. But I can in no way shape or form imagine either J at the opera (and I don't even like most operas).
*moans* This fandom will be the death of me. And all my own doing too. The weekly wanks are just icing on the damned cake. (Oh, and Kripke? MORE DAMNATION, PLEASE. Plz to be having more Sam?)
Oh brain. The minute you start to make sense, the world will explode.
Two weeks and three days til I go home.
I miss home. I miss my bed, and my couch and my stupidly small kitchen. And my fireplace. And my LotR wall from circa 2002. And my psychotic, though amazingly lethargic cat.
Now I'm getting all emotional. And I feel like cunt for not being nicer to my dad. But he makes it so difficult cause he's such a fucking asshole. What makes it all the worse is that he doesn't REALISE that he's being an asshole, so he thinks horribly of us. Which is just... sad. If he starts in on the rum again this year, I'm joining him. Well, maybe not with rum, but red wine's looking pretty good these days. By the time we get the presents sorted, we could be right smashed. I'm sure my sister-in-law would be down for that. She's a great drinking partner.
Mom wants me to sing O Holy Night on Christmas Eve. I can barely listen to the song without crying (not because it's pretty or anything, as I think it's kinda cheesy, but because my dad use to sing it when he was well, and he is no longer well). Plus, hello, breath control? MEET THE LACK OF. Gah. Plus my diction sucks. Really sucks. I should go practice.
I want some Chomsky books. I feel smarter when I read them.
Apparently there's a new Slayers season. This amuses me. (OMG XELLOS!) I haven't watched that show since Junior High, I swear.
I am going through a period of intense Dean dislike. I'm kinda glad the show is on hiatus so I can get over this. I need more Sam. (In fact, to the point where the SWMAP is kicking around in my brain again. Sooo no ever going to happen (though I wish it would).)
I really wish I could write all these damned ideas down, instead of having them crowd up my head pointlessly. And I really wish that when a good friend has a problem, I could fucking help them. Instead of... not being able to help. Awkwardness and saying-the-wrong-thing, thy name is Fran. (Or possibly my first name, but why would I wanna call myself that? Bah.)
ETA: I've also made a ...kinda sad realisation. Or had a sad... whatever. So, I kind of imagine what it would be like to meet the people I admire, you know? What would we talk about, whether we'd be friends. And when thinking of Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki... well. I don't think we'd be friends. This makes me very sad. Wanna know why we wouldn't be?
Cause I can't see either of them enjoying classical music. Either at home, or in performance.
And this is STUPID, because I have plenty of friends who don't like good, I mean 'classical' music *stares pointedly at bean*. So why would it matter with them?
Maybe it's the superficiality of J2 fics. Or maybe it's that I'm cranky, and I'm belatedly turning into the music student I am supposed to have been these last three years. Or maybe it's that I've been thinking about my parents, and how their mutual love for good music has been their one true saving grace. Maybe it's that I really wish I had someone to fangirl musical things to. But seriously? This has dampened my love for them? How fucking bizarre. But I can in no way shape or form imagine either J at the opera (and I don't even like most operas).
*moans* This fandom will be the death of me. And all my own doing too. The weekly wanks are just icing on the damned cake. (Oh, and Kripke? MORE DAMNATION, PLEASE. Plz to be having more Sam?)
Oh brain. The minute you start to make sense, the world will explode.