I had no idea how insecure I was about...shit and stuff...until I got a letter in the mail today from my college touting the upcoming 5-year reunion in October. Made me want to crawl into bed and not get up until tomorrow.

And I would have if Community and Parks and Recreation weren't on tonight and the TV wasn't in another room.

Meh.

1. Why were you broken, gas pump credit card reader--WHYYYYYYYY ( Read more... )

On the way home from work today, I listened to an interview on NPR with Casey Affleck about the new movie he stars in: The Killer Inside Me. It's about this, you know, serial killer and stuff. This is what my brain kept jumping to:


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( Spoilers for Doctor Who: The End of Time, Part 2 under the cut. )

So there I was at C3 on Saturday, wearing my Frakkin' Toaster shirt and Greg asks why I'm single when there are plenty of equally nerdy fish in the sea. The inner love-lorn 13-year-old in me wanted to blurt out "Because you already have a girlfriend ( Read more... )

Nothing makes me feel as frustrated, pissy, rageful (as in full of rage--it's a word now, damn it!), old, or mentally deficient as filing my tax returns. Especially the R.I.T.A. part; if you have to that where you live, you know what I mean. I hate that they makes you pay based on what your estimated income is for the next year or some such bs ( Read more... )