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Hate my life. Haaaate my life. Hate my liiiiiife.
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... Diana Gabaldon, is that you?

Okay, seriously, I love fanfiction. I loooove fanfiction. As a devourer of media it's how I express my interest in shows, and as a writer I can't wait to have an audience that wants to write fanfiction of my own characters. It shows that you've got an enthusiastic readership and that you've tapped into a spark of creativity that spurs people on. It's free and fun and hurts no one.

*

Speaking of fanfiction, I'm scheduled to post my Big Bang on June 7.

So, uh, yeah, I need to finish editing it, huh? *headdesk*

*

Per my brother, an exchange he and my mom shared this morning:

Mom: Did you see this? There was a plane crash in Africa and the only survivor was a ten-year-old boy. Luckily, he just broke a couple of his legs.
Bryan: ... oh, good, then the rest of his legs are perfectly fine.
Mom: *glares*

Heeeee.
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Okay, so I've named three of my cars. My first car, which I got for my 16th birthday, was the POS. It was a brown Pontiac Sunfire (Sunbird? Can't recall which) that was incredibly rusty around the trunk latch. It looked like a POS, which is almost hilarious considering it ran better than any other car I've ever had.

The car I got right before I moved to DC was Paco the Corsican Pimp. Paco, because that was what my brother named it (Paco was his Spanish-class name), Corsican because it was a Chevy Corsica, and Pimp because it liked to fuck with me and take all of my money. (It broke down more than a few times, needed expensive work every time it got inspected, got towed, and attracted parking tickets like flies.)

Aaaand the one I have now is Jane You Ignorant Slut, because she has no goddamn idea of the shit she puts me through trying to keep her going.

*

I was going to edit my Big Bang this morning but I got distracted by something else as per usual. However, I did get my [livejournal.com profile] apocalyptothon assignment done, so if anybody wants to look it over for me, I can send it out tonight for beta.
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Common Fucking Decency. Yeah, that would be its official name, too.

*

I have 5500 words to go until I crack 20k. And I still haven't eaten yet. Uh, yeah, I should probably do that.
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If it weren't for bad luck ...
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I have no problem with snow as long as I don't have to go anywhere in it. If it's a weekend like it is now and we're supposed to get a snowstorm, I stock up on hot chocolate, get cozy by the heater with a good book, and enjoy the hell out of it. If I drive or ride in it, I freak the fuck out.

I don't think I could handle a warm Christmas, though. I would have no problem missing the rest of the winter season just as long as I got a white Christmas. I'm born and raised in Pennsylvania by a Christmas-obsessed mom. If it's not a white Christmas, I toddle around in a daze like we're faking the holiday or something.
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Only once. I was laid off for six months in 2001 and the only job I could find the entire time was telemarketing. It was, unsurprisingly, awful. A three-dollar drop in hourly pay if you missed more than two hours, no benefits, mandatory Saturdays ... ugh. The one thing that wasn't awful was that they didn't enforce their attendance policy at ALL. You could just take the hit to your paycheck and nobody seemed to give a damn.

When I finally found a decent full-time night job at another place, I started only coming in for a few hours a day, just 'cause. I got away with fifteen-hour weeks for two weeks or so before the boss called me into her office and said, "You have to be full-time or you can't work here anymore."

"Okay!" I said cheerfully, and practically skipped out the front door.

I'm not even joking about that. Possibly even including the skipping.

*

Project Runway's next season is starting in just 29 days?! WOOHOO!

I'm holding out hope that it'll be a good season, or at least better than last season, and that list of designers for this season -- not to mention back to New York and more of Michael Kors -- looks promising. Look, diversity! And they all sound a shade better than season six's crop.
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I've read the book and seen a picture of Taylor shirtless. I don't have to see the movie.

Also, anyone who's never read the books and hasn't figured out that Edward lives (there ARE two more movies, you know) and that Jacob is a werewolf (how many trailers does it have to be in before it stops being a spoiler?) needs serious professional help.

*

Okay, seriously?

Spoiler for tonight's TAR )
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Uh, can I just ask for a thousand-dollar Paypal credit and knock off some of my bills instead?

Although if I have to shop ... Etsy or Amazon, I suppose.
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If I had the talent and the education for it, I'd totally do Project Runway. But seeing as how I have no television-worthy talent, the only one I'd be eligible for and would love to try is The Amazing Race. Free trip around the world, meet Phil Keoghan, and maybe win a million dollars while you're at it? Sign me up. (Hell, right now I'd take fifty bucks.)

EDIT: SYTYCD and Top Chef also fall under the "would-do-if-I-had-the-talent" category, too.
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I'd tell them. I'm usually the first to be willing to point out a fuzzy in someone's hair or lipstick on their teeth, whether I like them or not. It's such a stupid little thing to let slide just because you dislike someone, the way I figure it.

*

A few more things:

-- An Australian news report calls Caster Semenya a hermaphrodite, sparking outrage. I totally understand why she wouldn't do it, especially after all the fuss and embarrassment, but at this point if I were here I'd be pissed enough to stand up say, "Fuck y'all! You're just jealous because I'm carting around the weight of twice as many internal organs and I still smoked your asses!"

Seriously, fuck this noise. Unless they're going to invent the Intersexed Games just for the handful of people who'd actually be eligible for them, this painfully close examination of someone's reproductive system as if that has anything to do whatsoever with their ability to RUN is fucking insulting and ridiculous.

-- So in case you haven't heard, David Cross (Tobias on Arrested Development) and Amber Tamblyn (she of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and Joan of Arcadia fame) are dating. I find this pairing amazing beyond the telling of it anyway.

But now there's this -- with the approval of Amber and her father Russ, David's author bio for his new book states that he is "currently fucking Amber Tamblyn" and features a picture of Russ. I can't decide if that's horrifying or FANTASTIC. Probably a little of both. :)

-- Cute Overload is celebrating the fact that a Day Without Cats is over by giving us a photo spread of cats in weird sleeping positions.

-- From Not Always Right, Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pregnant Woman Scorned and Harry & Ginny: The Golden Years.

-- The 5 Most Horrific Ways People Have Tried to Discourage Sex
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Well, let's see. I love my eyes. I think I have great, gorgeous dynamic blue-green eyes, and I love that they pick up the colors around me really well and look like they're changing shades.

And I love my forearms. Right now they're nicely sunbrowned and I even like the scars I have on them (cat scratches, a bigger burn scar from a hot cookie sheet).

I adore my breasts. I think I've got fantastic breasts, thank you very much. They're not huge and they're not totally teeny -- they pretty much fit the handful rule, or so I've been told -- and I've got a pair of bras that make them look amazing.

I love my body in general, I do, even though right now I'm starting to grow out of my size ten jeans. The only reason that bothers me isn't because I'd fit into a bigger size, but because I can't afford to buy new clothes. I'd love to go shopping for clothes that fit in a bigger size, just because I think cramming yourself into a size you're too big for just makes you look bigger and is so unflattering.

For all that I say I'd love to have a six-pack, I kinda love my tummy when I've got a little tummy pouch. It's soft and squishy! *pokes it* :)
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Oh, good Lord. *headdesk*

This is such a long list:

1. Look, I know you think you're some hideous troll creature who should be living under a bridge somewhere, but you're not. Really, you're not. You just need to dial back your wardrobe choices a tad, stop borrowing clothes from Mom -- she has very nice clothes, but she's your MOM and they don't work on you -- and for God's sake, just go to a different hairstylist and tell her you want it ridiculously short. And then dye it dark brown or dark red. (I'd suggest a bob but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be able to handle it.) And if anybody at school gives you the stink-eye like they're thinking that you got your hair cut like that because you're a lesbian, or better yet asks straight out (because they're already dropping hints to as much already, aren't they?), just look them straight in the eye and say, "Funny, the stylist forgot to ask me before she cut my hair if I like pussy," and then smile and walk away. Leave the fuckers guessing.

2. Speaking of, jump Tommy now while he still thinks he likes girls. No, I'm not kidding. Yes, your gaydar was correct. Trust me, you'll thank me later.

3. That I'm-never-drinking bullshit has GOT to stop. You're not now nor will you ever be an irresponsible fuckwit when it comes to alcohol. Here, this is a Smirnoff. You will thank me later.

4. Take that year off before college. Put your foot down. You're right, you're not ready, and this will only end badly. It's YOUR life, damn it.

4a. However, if you do go to the same college after that year off and you happen to run into a hotass British exchange student a couple of years into it, stop fucking clamming up and jump his hot ass. Ahem.

5. You're not going to get published for a while -- *cough* -- but keep writing. You'll get there eventually. You'll meet some great people and some not-so-great people and some phenomenal people who'll steer you to a point where you can almost see it on the horizon.

6. Oh, and to go back to that first bit of advice? You know all that sarcastic shit you want to say and yet never actually let yourself say because you think it makes you look like an idiot? Go ahead, say it, you don't.
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1. I pay off my parents' debt.
2. I pay for my brother to move into his own place.
3. I donate the rest to Planned Parenthood, breast cancer research, and my local animal shelter.

*

So, this just happened.

Otis: *won't stop yowling*
Me: Aw, come on, it's not time for dinner yet, Otis! Stop crying!
Otis: *keeps yowling from under the dining room table*
Me: *leans forward on the couch to stare at him* What is your prob--
Dexter: *bounces past on the way to the bathroom*
Me: ... oh. *hurries off to catch him*
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No one. Nowhere in that question does it say that I'm a vampire, just that the members of my baseball team are.

This is clearly a trick question. Hmph.

excuse me you guys rereading that question is killing off bits of my SOUL
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Going to college. Definitely.

It's not that I think I should have never gone to college. It's that I think I was far too immature and introverted to go. Hell, I knew I wasn't ready for college back then. Right after I graduated high school, I sat down with my dad and told him I thought it would be best if I took a year off before I went to college. I'm not sure if I even knew what a gap year was back then, I just knew that I didn't feel like I'd do well in college if I went immediately after high school due to my social and academic awkwardness on occasion. I was sheltered and I knew it, and it was probably the most responsible thought I could have had at the time.

My father told me I was going to college whether I like it or not because if I didn't go then I'd probably never go.

I flunked out three years later carrying two credit cards' worth of irresponsible idiotic debt, had a minor meltdown, and drove sobbing to a friend's house in Virginia without informing my parents. Yeah, good times.

(The meltdown was a long time coming. When I said during last year's bout of depression that I'm pretty sure I have a history of it, I think that if anybody had paid more than five seconds worth of attention to me during my third year of college, they would have steered me towards the health center and put me on medication so fast my head would have spun.)

The gay guy who Jess and I used to hang out with -- he and his boyfriend have been homebodies for a while now, so I think Jess may have given up to inviting them out to the bar other than in a polite perfunctory way -- said once that he and Jess were the ones who always have to be the center of attention, and his boyfriend and I are more like the sidekicks. I couldn't exactly argue that. I've always been the one who hangs back while other people are more sociable, and I usually fail completely when I try being the center of attention in a public setting.

It goes to why I should have waited for college -- because back then I didn't do well thrown full-tilt into situations, and only through gritted teeth and a forced smile do I manage it now. I lived in the middle of nowhere, I wasn't popular, I didn't hang out with a large crowd of people or make a habit of going anywhere outside of town other than my friends' houses and the mall. I might as well have never left my house, for all the experience I had with anything outside of my small sphere of existence.

The hilarious thing about the whole virgin thing is that I still think I would be in a better place now if I would have waited for college and just screwed one of my ex-boyfriends instead. ;)
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Nancy Drew, baby.

Veronica Mars is a close second.
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Currently ... well, there's a reason I have four bajillion icons of those two boys up there making out, is all I'm saying.

In general, though -- Buffy and Spike, Zoe and Wash, Chuck and Blair, Veronica and Logan, Jim and Pam, Barney and Robin, John and Mary Winchester, George Michael and Maeby ... so basically, either too cute for words or too fucked up to last. Take your pick. :D

Oh, and also? I fucking loathed Ross and Rachel. Somewhere between the breaking up and getting back together over and over and over and OVER again, the "we were on a break" bullshit, and Ross being the most repellent character on there, I got sick of those two really quick. I was way more into Chandler and Monica.
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HA. BWAHAHAHAHA. Show people things. Around here? BWAHAHAHAHA.

Okay, in all seriousness, there are things to do around here, it just usually involves throwing guests in a car and driving them somewhere else.

In town, though, there's not a lot. I'd probably arrange for out-of-town guests to show up during Old Home Week, because there's a big parade and fireworks and food stands and for once there's actually things happening in town instead of, like, thirty miles away in some other town. I'd drag people to the cafe because it's wee and adorable and homey and I love it. (They've started doing high teas on Sundays after church lets out! I want to gooooo, except now my mom's on a strict diet thanks to her doctor and probably won't go and I don't have anyone else to go with. *pouts*)

There's always the Office tour. Hey, want to drive down to Scranton and see all of the places from the opening credits? I know where they filmed them all!

To be fair, the countryside is really pretty, especially during the fall when the foliage comes out. And there's a lot of farms around here, so if anybody wants to go see cows and horses and buffalo and whatnot, I know where to take them. :)

*

In other news, here's Colbert and Obama filming that bit for when Colbert got his head shaved in Iraq:

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I have sixteen hours to finish about twenty thousand words. So I imagine typing will be involved. If I'm lucky, there will also be booze. And if I'm close enough to stay up and push to the very end, I'm probably going to try. RAWR. \o/

And now I need to go make myself breakfast, grab a bottle of soda, and buckle down. Apparently it's supposed to snow all day, so the world does not want me to go somewhere I can slack off. That's for when I'm finish.
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Volleyball. God, I sucked at volleyball. And don't even get me started on how wretched I am at golf. Apparently the gene that made the rest of my mom's family good at golf and golf-crazy (my grandpa used to own a local golf course a few decades back) completely skipped me.

As for other gym class games, I was pretty good at universal Frisbee. And I was on the basketball team for a couple of years, although by the time I actually started getting somewhat good at it I quit the team.

*

Fandom-as-exes meme gacked from others:

The one who seduced you and fucked you over and broke your heart in a million pieces and laughed about it: X-Men movieverse

The old flame you don't see very often any more but whom you still really enjoy getting together with for a few drinks and maybe a pleasant nostalgic romp in the sheets: Buffy

The mysterious dark gothy one whom you used to sit up with talking until 3 a.m. at weird coffeehouses and with whom you were quite smitten until you realized he really was fucking crazy: Lost

The one you spent a whole weekend in bed with and who drank up all your liquor, and whom you'd still really like to fuck again although you're relieved he doesn't actually live in town: Heroes

The steady: Supernatural

The one you repeatedly cheat on your steady with: Gossip Girl

The alluring stranger whom you've flirted with at parties but have never gotten really serious with: House

The one you hang out with and have vague fantasies about maybe having a thing with but ultimately you're just good buddies 'cause the friendship is there but the chemistry ain't: Harry Potter

The one your friends keep introducing you to and who seems like a hell of a cool guy except it's never really gone anywhere: Doctor Who

The one you slept with on the rebound who still smiles at you, yet you have no interest in any more: Brothers and Sisters

The one who's slept with all your friends, and you keep looking at him and thinking, "Him? How the hell did he land all these cool babes?": American Idol

The one your friend has fallen for like a ton of bricks and whom she keeps babbling to you about on the phone for hours, and you'd be happy for her except you just know it's going to end badly: Torchwood

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