Hellooooooooo.

Accidental overdose killed Heath Ledger

Dear people who immediately jumped to the "Strung-out drug addict" and/or "committed suicide" options,

*smacks upside the head*

Sincerely,

Me

ARGH.

Amazon, please to be transferring my balance so that I can go buy a new chinchilla cage, a new baby brother for Elliot, report covers, and printer ink a pony.

Thank you.

*sigh*

WOOHOO!

I got laid off for this week! *happy dance*

I really shouldn't be thrilled when they lay me off, especially when they lay me off during a forty-eight hour pay period, but I'm ahead on my bills now thanks to my tax refund, I'm getting my Amazon money today, and I'm getting paid today. So I can pay off my car insurance and car payment for this month tomorrow, and still get a new chinchilla and a new cage for them. And I can even afford to take a few trips to Panera this week so it's not like I'm trapped in my house again.

Also, writing! Yay!

*bounces around the room like a Tigger on crack*

EDIT: Oh, oh! And I can watch new Project Runway tonight! *twirls*

Heh.

While cleaning the apartment I found my laser pointer. The cat is currently bouncing around the place in happiness.

Well, okay, currently he's looking around in confusion trying to figure out where the little red light went. And then staring at me intermittently like, "Mom, where'd it go?" And then flopping to the floor and rolling around dejectedly while giving me sadkitteneyes, the melodramatic goober.

I'm not much for quizzes, but this is kind of awesome.

78

I just did the math.

I've only worked six days since the beginning of the year. And half of those were only half-days because we got sent home early.

In total, I've worked fifty-eight hours since January first.

If I were still too broke to pay my bills, I wouldn't be laughing as hard as I am right now.

Cry me a river. No, wait, I wasn't *serious*!

Today I rewatched Andrae's breakdown on the runway, and now I'm rewatching Ricky's breakdown on the runway.

I've said it before and I'll say in again. The big difference? VOLUME. Andrae let all of his tears out in one melodramatic cascade of tears, the likes of which could probably have been used to give Marla's model some serious water-weight gain if only she'd been lucky. In retrospect, it's amazing. I always point out that my mother offsets my complete inability to be anything remotely close to sad at a funeral by sobbing and wailing on levels that astound me. Andrae crying is a little bit like that. I've gotten to the point in rewatching it where I almost expect a line to form to slap him across the face much like on Airplane!, except at the end of this line would be Joan Collins, and she would beat him with his trucker cap, and then the two of them would wrestle in a fountain.

Ricky, meanwhile, has been dragging out the same damn temper tantrum all season long, except there's no actual anger. There's just a lot of crying and drama, and if we're lucky after tonight's episode he'll stomp off into Sequesterville to eat crayons or paste or something. And then cry about how much eating those crayons meant to HIS ENTIRE LIFE.

There's also the added point that when Andrae broke down, the others proceeded to rib the crap out of him good-naturedly, while when Ricky cries, the rest of these people stand around like your very first boyfriend in fourth grade who, like, sees you crying and awkwardly offers you a frog to make you stop. And that's if you're lucky.

EDIT: Is there a reason all of the designers are dressed in shades of brown? Wait, is this sepia-tinted? Did I tune into Project Runway 1888 or something?

I am restrained and calm.

( Project Runway )