Bwah?
Game of Thrones. I am halfway through season one.
This shit is fucked up, people.
Like, seriously. This is more fucked up than ANYTHING I have ever written or even thought about writing, but figured it was actually too fucked up to write in fic and still be accepted by fandom.
This is moreso.
I can't look away, though, because... well... did you read the above sentences?
You know what else is screwed up? My life.
Sunday and Monday I was in hospital.
Tuesday we had an earthquake. A freakin' earthquake! 5.5 on the ricter scale (I have no idea what this means, really, as Melbourne has very little earthquake activity to compare it to). That said, there was no damage. The walls and house shook a little, nothing fell. The boys were in bed, but still awake, and they didn't even call out to me to ask what was going on.
No damage state wide to report, the most dramatic picture they could get for the newspaper was some woman standing in front of a wall in her house with crooked pictures. That's it.
So weird.
I am really enjoying school, though. So much more than I thought I would and I was really expecting to love school. I miss being S-M-R-T.
James got accepted into the GOOD primary school. *Numfar, do the dance of joy!*
I am in the middle of planning James' fifth birthday party (omg, FIVE!), so I will soon be planning Michael's second (omg, TWO!).
Kid's a smartass.
We're at nanny's house and it's time to go.
Me: Michael, are you ready?
Michael: Not yet. (as I put James' shoes on, Michael picks up his empty dinner plate and takes it to nanny, begging for more food).
Me: Come on, Michael, it's time to go.
Michael: (looks at me, looks at the plate, looks at his nanny) Hurry up!
This is his standard answer when it's time to go, "Not yet". I don't even have to say anything anymore, I just pick up my keys and Michael says "not yet".
And the kid tells knock knock jokes. *lesigh*. He's not even two and he tells knock knock jokes. Properly. With the right timing, sentence structure and call and response answers. It's... unsettling.
But he's gorgeous, as is his older brother, and they both know it.
I am currently amazing myself with the cracked out wrongness that is Game of Thrones and also struggling to write some fic that I am now (thanks to hospitals and kids and stress and school and my life) a week late in posting. More lesigh.
I have watched the first five seasons of House and am wondering if it is worth downloading seasons six through eight. I mean, the main reason I started watching this in the first place is because of Jennifer Morrison, but now it just seems cruel to her (I mean, seriously, what... did the writers hate her that much? Not just all the wedding talk late in the season, they actually made her MARRY the guy? Fuck that shit). If I have to watch Jesse Spencer in one more scene, I might just spit. A whole bunch. Talk about giving Australians a bad name. What a dick.
This shit is fucked up, people.
Like, seriously. This is more fucked up than ANYTHING I have ever written or even thought about writing, but figured it was actually too fucked up to write in fic and still be accepted by fandom.
This is moreso.
I can't look away, though, because... well... did you read the above sentences?
You know what else is screwed up? My life.
Sunday and Monday I was in hospital.
Tuesday we had an earthquake. A freakin' earthquake! 5.5 on the ricter scale (I have no idea what this means, really, as Melbourne has very little earthquake activity to compare it to). That said, there was no damage. The walls and house shook a little, nothing fell. The boys were in bed, but still awake, and they didn't even call out to me to ask what was going on.
No damage state wide to report, the most dramatic picture they could get for the newspaper was some woman standing in front of a wall in her house with crooked pictures. That's it.
So weird.
I am really enjoying school, though. So much more than I thought I would and I was really expecting to love school. I miss being S-M-R-T.
James got accepted into the GOOD primary school. *Numfar, do the dance of joy!*
I am in the middle of planning James' fifth birthday party (omg, FIVE!), so I will soon be planning Michael's second (omg, TWO!).
Kid's a smartass.
We're at nanny's house and it's time to go.
Me: Michael, are you ready?
Michael: Not yet. (as I put James' shoes on, Michael picks up his empty dinner plate and takes it to nanny, begging for more food).
Me: Come on, Michael, it's time to go.
Michael: (looks at me, looks at the plate, looks at his nanny) Hurry up!
This is his standard answer when it's time to go, "Not yet". I don't even have to say anything anymore, I just pick up my keys and Michael says "not yet".
And the kid tells knock knock jokes. *lesigh*. He's not even two and he tells knock knock jokes. Properly. With the right timing, sentence structure and call and response answers. It's... unsettling.
But he's gorgeous, as is his older brother, and they both know it.
I am currently amazing myself with the cracked out wrongness that is Game of Thrones and also struggling to write some fic that I am now (thanks to hospitals and kids and stress and school and my life) a week late in posting. More lesigh.
I have watched the first five seasons of House and am wondering if it is worth downloading seasons six through eight. I mean, the main reason I started watching this in the first place is because of Jennifer Morrison, but now it just seems cruel to her (I mean, seriously, what... did the writers hate her that much? Not just all the wedding talk late in the season, they actually made her MARRY the guy? Fuck that shit). If I have to watch Jesse Spencer in one more scene, I might just spit. A whole bunch. Talk about giving Australians a bad name. What a dick.