simple pleasures help so much
Because so much has been difficult or shit-tastic this week, yes, yes even with SCARLET on the shelves and a spotlight in Rue Morgue, a beloved horror-culture magazine, the week has beaten my ass to a paste, but there have been some small things that keep me from leaping under the wheels of a bus:
1. Hot toddies. I know you're either sick of me talking about them, or you've got one right now.
2. The Heroes Television Without Pity forums. I'm almost going to be sad when the show comes back on, and it's not just the ten or so usual suspects posting away, constantly raising the bar of Funny Shit™. I am pleased to contribute; to hold my head up high as a shuddering, white-lipped crack junkie/TWoPper holding the wit razor just under my coat.
3. Bed. Aw yeah. Delicious, nutritious unconsciousness.
4. The title of one of the lost works of Suetonius is Lives of Famous Whores. Best title for a theoretical Lindsay Lohan/Anna Nicole Smith/Britney Spears/Paris Hilton/Jessica Simpson etc. Valley of the Dolls-esque combo-biopic of all time. Maybe I'll write it.
5. Making my closest friends smile, laugh, and feel better. The ones not quite as close have suffered the same fate as most other things in my life, including me, and gotten kind of shafted, for which I am very sorry, but that's the breaks. Have a hot toddy and be assured that I love you, but that this is the time when I get stomped by fate and circumstance (and weather - what's up with this freezing rain bullshrek? This blows! [even if I am inside all night, looking after the sick kitty]).
6. Getting a headbutt-to-ankle from aforementioned sick kitty, and almost bursting into tears of relief and joy that she was feeling better enough to do that. Loads of bonding with kitty, grooming kitty, grabbing kitty boobs to make sure it's not cancer, and then doing it just because she'll let me do it and it's fun and I'm glad it doesn't hurt her for me to do that.
7. Trading Masi Oka for John Taylor on the fantasy boyfriend exchange - did I get ripped off, or did I finally triumph over the last girlfriend who wouldn't get her hooks out of my Nigel?... :) Because, seriously, Masi = yum. Yes, I do actually think about men other than Milo Ventimiglia. ... Oh. Men in real life? Working on that. Not a good time for me. I need to be 13 right now for a little while. You understand.
By the way, go pick up the Jan/Feb issue of Rue Morgue. I am going to do so tomorrow, if possible, if taking Min to the vet doesn't bankrupt me completely.
1. Hot toddies. I know you're either sick of me talking about them, or you've got one right now.
2. The Heroes Television Without Pity forums. I'm almost going to be sad when the show comes back on, and it's not just the ten or so usual suspects posting away, constantly raising the bar of Funny Shit™. I am pleased to contribute; to hold my head up high as a shuddering, white-lipped crack junkie/TWoPper holding the wit razor just under my coat.
3. Bed. Aw yeah. Delicious, nutritious unconsciousness.
4. The title of one of the lost works of Suetonius is Lives of Famous Whores. Best title for a theoretical Lindsay Lohan/Anna Nicole Smith/Britney Spears/Paris Hilton/Jessica Simpson etc. Valley of the Dolls-esque combo-biopic of all time. Maybe I'll write it.
5. Making my closest friends smile, laugh, and feel better. The ones not quite as close have suffered the same fate as most other things in my life, including me, and gotten kind of shafted, for which I am very sorry, but that's the breaks. Have a hot toddy and be assured that I love you, but that this is the time when I get stomped by fate and circumstance (and weather - what's up with this freezing rain bullshrek? This blows! [even if I am inside all night, looking after the sick kitty]).
6. Getting a headbutt-to-ankle from aforementioned sick kitty, and almost bursting into tears of relief and joy that she was feeling better enough to do that. Loads of bonding with kitty, grooming kitty, grabbing kitty boobs to make sure it's not cancer, and then doing it just because she'll let me do it and it's fun and I'm glad it doesn't hurt her for me to do that.
7. Trading Masi Oka for John Taylor on the fantasy boyfriend exchange - did I get ripped off, or did I finally triumph over the last girlfriend who wouldn't get her hooks out of my Nigel?... :) Because, seriously, Masi = yum. Yes, I do actually think about men other than Milo Ventimiglia. ... Oh. Men in real life? Working on that. Not a good time for me. I need to be 13 right now for a little while. You understand.
By the way, go pick up the Jan/Feb issue of Rue Morgue. I am going to do so tomorrow, if possible, if taking Min to the vet doesn't bankrupt me completely.