Random update #234985
Sooooo yeah, I fell off the bandwagon again in regards to keeping up with my friends list. Maybe I need to take some of the communities off, or something.
In other news, I appear to have spawned a monster known as Team Slumber Party. I'm slightly relieved that I'm not the only person whose brain is currently being owned by it, because... that would just be conceited? But I wrote porn for it. And Lucy's journal looks all pretty now because Eric was nice enough to let me buy her a paid account for the extra icon space.
Still no word from the graduate school people at South Carolina. This is me continuing to climb up the walls in sheer terror.
Am thinking of pasting together the videos I shot with my digital camera of that freak snowstorm the other week, setting it to "Night on Bald Mountain", and throwing it up on YouTube.
Also I had a weird-ass dream last night where there was David DeWitt, of all people, who was letting me put on his Reyer costume, a musical interlude where I swear he practically threw me in Egon Spengler's lap, and then Adam Monroe sans shirt. And that's only the parts I can remember. Based off this paragraph, I wouldn't blame anyone who thought I was taking LSD or something.
And now I will eat a gingerbread man and go to bed, in anticipation of Team Slumber Party pr0n later on. *is shot*
In other news, I appear to have spawned a monster known as Team Slumber Party. I'm slightly relieved that I'm not the only person whose brain is currently being owned by it, because... that would just be conceited? But I wrote porn for it. And Lucy's journal looks all pretty now because Eric was nice enough to let me buy her a paid account for the extra icon space.
Still no word from the graduate school people at South Carolina. This is me continuing to climb up the walls in sheer terror.
Am thinking of pasting together the videos I shot with my digital camera of that freak snowstorm the other week, setting it to "Night on Bald Mountain", and throwing it up on YouTube.
Also I had a weird-ass dream last night where there was David DeWitt, of all people, who was letting me put on his Reyer costume, a musical interlude where I swear he practically threw me in Egon Spengler's lap, and then Adam Monroe sans shirt. And that's only the parts I can remember. Based off this paragraph, I wouldn't blame anyone who thought I was taking LSD or something.
And now I will eat a gingerbread man and go to bed, in anticipation of Team Slumber Party pr0n later on. *is shot*