Trix is back home. Steph is on the plane. And I'm reunited with Harold again.

A lot of stuff happened. A lot of drinking happened (instead of just talking about it). We forgot to do more phone posts. There was lesbian drunken karaoke. There were furries. There was BuxBoy stalking, except not too much for obvious reasons. And there was cheesecake.

And I have a phone interview at 11am tomorrow for Massachusetts (omg, I am so underqualified for this position, eep). There is no reception here so I need to find somewhere quiet that Verizon doesn't hate. Pfft.

Will post more. Maybe later tonight. But now must grab a nap or something before headhunter calls at 8pm to reconfirm tomorrow's thing.

Last minute errands. Post office. Bank. (Actually, rethinking bank, because I can change those 50 bucks in change back to bills some other time. Amazing what you find when you clean your room.) Then picking up Trix. Then picking up Steph. Then NYC or bust.

I only managed 3 hours of sleep last night. This ought to be FUN! If I don't fall asleep first.

Not bringing Harold, so net access will be sporadic. If you need me, you know how to find me. Rawr.

Have a great weekend!

Okay, there's these two crazy girls in the SGA fandom. They're going to a con this weekend to meet a couple of SGA people. So. Apparently, they met RSF at the airport and offered to give him a lift to his hotel -- which he accepted (whoa, trusting much? though I hear he's supersweet and very down to earth). And apparently, these two crazy girls gave him the link to the recaps that Red and I have been writing this season. Erm... See, I'm thinking the chances of him actually visiting it and/or reading any of them is pretty slim. But, on the off-chance that he does... well, this could be a problem. Because the mid-season cliffhanger recap that I'm finishing up (many, many, many weeks late) actually involves a lot of snarking on his character. And the recap itself isn't that funny right now (give it three or four more editing passes, maybe). And... um... there's this thing where I happen to spend a fair amount of time in each of my recaps ("Conversion," especially) going on and on about the boyfriend's crotch pants. See... in theory, the idea of any of TPTB lurking anywhere near that site? Is kind of cool. But in reality? Um, yeah, that's not going to work for me. At all.

It's one thing for, say, JJ to read the old Alias recaps because I'm over that show and don't think he's that awesome anyway. But it's a whole different thing for the boyfriend to find out indirectly that I'm gunning for the presidency of his pants appreciation society. Ya know what I mean? Rawr.

*eeps* Better hide that picspam post I made on LJ awhile back... lmfao.

(After babbling, I realized that the following entry could be deemed SCARY POOH STALKING POOR INNOCENT STUPID BOY. Therefore, only those who know what a tard I am and are not freaked out by my boy crushes should proceed -- basically, Meg and the gals, and Steph, who needs to know this stuff before she visits me this weekend. I swear, I'm an adult... really... I think.)

Motherfucker! BuxBoy hates me, that bastard. Erm... actually, let me back up for a bit.

So this morning I decided to get my ass out of bed early, take care of some errands, and then drop by the parentals' to do some last minute laundry (must have clean sheets for Steph, just in case, omg!). It occurs to me that I should maybe feel ashamed for mooching free water, detergent, and electricity off them, but... I find that I can still live with myself, so whatever. Anyway, since I haven't stopped by Bux in over a week and since going by the parentals usually means an overnighter, thereby missing BuxBoy's usual Wednesday night shift, I decide to stop by and get a latte before I head home. I desperately needed coffee; of this, I am more disturbed by than the whole eating the parents' food and stuff.

I'm driving the usual way and a bunch of cars ahead, I see an ol' Jeep. Not much new, since they're all over the campuses here. But I did entertain the whole 'hmm, wonder if it's the Boy' thing. Let's just say, there was a feeling even though he supposedly has another job that's not Bux, or maybe he got promoted up the Bux ladder or whatever. Who knows. In any case, I got held back by the two really slow ass cars in front of me so the ol' Jeep quickly outpaced me. Now... I don't know if that specific one was his, but let's just say, when I got to the Bux, on a Wednesday morning, someone's Jeep was in its usual spot.

Dude. I have POWERS OF AWESOME! It's actually kind of scary -- even scarier than me stalking the BuxBoy, so you know how freaked out I am by this. Okay, actually, not that freaked out; I'm too busy trying to figure out how to use these powers to my advantage.

Oh, right, so MOTHERFUCKER. Anyway, I have no clue what's going on. I went in and he was sort of helping someone else and dressed in the Bux black shirt, so now I'm confused. Is he working days again, or WHAT? (I forgot to ask, because I AM A TARD and didn't think of a cute way of being innocent about it until after I walked out. CUZ I SUCK.) AND he sort of ignored me and didn't say hi when I was right in front of his face. Okay, so he was helping someone else, but he used to give me the head nod back in the day. At that point, I decided to screw it and hate him forever -- this was a good idea, since I have started weaning myself off the Bux lately. The other guy there was training some girl, but even HE smiled and 'how you doing'ed me because he recognizes me now (not cute, though, but very nice and cheerful).

After he took my order, THEN stupid BuxBoy was all "hi, Winnie!" GRR. So of course, my resolve to put an end to this stalking pretty much went to crap right there. DAMMIT. The other guy decided that that moment was a good time to ask me what my name was to put on the cup. Erm... yeah. And fucking BuxBoy was all, "It's Winnie" and when the other guy apologized that he can never remember, fucking BuxBoy got all gleeful and "I remembered it after the first time." BASTARD. THIS IS HOW EVIL CRUSHES ARE CREATED, DAMMIT! He's not even my type or conventionally cute, and I can't stand facial hair, except he makes me want to molest him. Bastard. And then after I left, I wanted to run back in and tell both of them to call me by whatever nickname they wanted to, because I'm easy and will respond when Pooh'ed. (Seriously, I have no clue why people -- guys, especially -- think it's okay to start calling me by nicknames without asking first within a day of meeting or talking to me. I'm not even talking about those bastards who Poopy me. I'm talking even something as simple as "hey, Win." Not that I care, but dammit, do I know you at all? Granted, I'm so used to hearing and seeing "Pooh," that when people call me by my name, I'm all "...eh?")

And that was it. Because I have absolutely no follow-through, and he's evil. So... Steph? This new wrinkle in scheduling has thrown me completely off. I have no clue if he'll be hanging out at the Bux on Sunday for you. Which is probably good, since I'm really scared of what you might do.

Oh, and then I bought a pair of shoes for interviewing. Not sure if I'm keeping them (ha, where have you heard that before?) because pointy-toed shoes scare me and yet, are fashionable right now. Blargh. But the guy working the store was a middle-aged football player dude (weird in itself, in such a 'trendy' shoe store since I've never ever seen anyone but anorexic girls and feminine boys working there), who started talking to me about nanotechnology (after asking me what field I'm in), interviewing, school, and sci-fi. Then later, I ran into him walking around the mall during his break and he hi'ed me before I even saw him. Weirdness. I'm almost tempted to go to Best Buy right now and see if any of the old guys will sniff me again. (Steph, is this an omen for sugardaddy hunting this weekend?)

So... the latest word on the job front is "maybe Massachusetts." I could, quite possibly, be happy near Boston. At least Thing2 goes up there all the time.

Erm. We'll see.

Except now a couple of friends are moving to the west coast, and GOD, THE PEER PRESSURE. I have now been offered the choices of Oregon, Seattle, or San Diego by said biatches. Too bad I'm not built to just pick up and go across the country without something waiting for me there. Also, my East coast mentality might squash everyone out there.

Hi. I have a shopping problem. I just came back from the mall and purchased two pairs of shoes and two pairs of boots. They're all black. I don't know how I feel about any of them but took them home on a trial basis. It is way too easy to buy now, return later. ARGH.

I was SUPPOSED to buy interview shoes and dressy shoes for this weekend. And a winter coat, dammit!

Big. Ass. Headache. The Poopy is in PAIN. Had to put in the contacts because the glasses were making it worse. Then every time I tried to roll my eyes to look "up," it felt like my head was disconnected from the rest of my body. Now my neck is all sore. And it's FREEZING. And I better not be getting sick before this weekend. That would be bad, and nothing's worse than a grumpy Pooh.

I did my civic duty. Absentee ballot for the election has now been completed and sealed. Apparently, the Mom's been doing some cleaning and found a bunch of old stamps so she wanted me to use those first. Dude. Do you know how stupid your envelope looks when you're trying to make one first class stamp using only 2, 5, and 10 cent stamps? And the 2 cent stamps were the ones you had to LICK. Yo, how uncivilized were we back then anyway? Actual stamp lickage?! *clings to invention of self-adhesion*

Ever since the bro's been in school, he's started to watch a lot more college football. Consequently, whenever we hang out over the weekend, I've been watching more football, in general. Last week I found myself watching the alma mater play when the bro wasn't around to steal the remote. And tonight, we ended up watching the school play on TV. I interrupt every few minutes to ask a stupid question about rules and shit, but I CANNOT believe that at this very moment, I'm more interested in college football than I am in stupid hockey because I LOVE HOCKEY. It's like the apocalypse or something. I don't like it one bit. This end of the world crap is also confirmed by the current school and the alma mater having the same winning record so far. It's just so... wrong. Make the lambs stop screaming!

Last week over the phone:

Pooh: "Tom, get me a bunch of movies in a totally legal fashion?"
PoohBro: "Yah."
Pooh: "Burn me a couple?"
PoohBro: "K."
Pooh: "I'll drop off some cds and a list of movies later."

Today:

PoohBro: *hands me stack of cds*
Pooh: "YO! THESE AREN'T LABELED."
PoohBro: "I know. That's kinda fun, huh?"
Pooh: *shortsheets his bed when he isn't looking*

Can I just what a great thing it was that the Bro asked me to pick him up and take him to the parents' today? If I hadn't, I wouldn't have run over whateverthefuck that thing was on the highway. Then I would never have given my tires a second look after arriving at the parents'. And then I would never have discovered that my rear driver's side tire was defective and had a section of the tire that looked like it was herniating outwards. Eek. Thank god for 80,000 mile warranties! Grabbed the Father and we went to get my tire changed. Though the new one they gave me looks all grody and old. Hrmph. So now I'm all paranoid about that because it looks smaller, too, and I liked having big shiny tires.

That reminds me. Sylvie is in dire need of an oil change. Ooops. Better get that taken care of before next Friday just in case we need to pick up Trix prior to the Fangirls in the City weekend. Is it bad to feel really excited about staying at a hotel for the weekend? Yay, minibreaks! Plus, Sheraton sweet sleeper beds! I love when friends give me a valid excuse to splurge. Pleeeeeeeeease don't rain that weekend...

While waiting for the car, the Father and I went to the Costco to pick up a couple of things. You know, those bulk places don't really save you money. We only grabbed a handful of things and ended up spending almost twice what we normally spend for a week at the regular stores. I ended up climbing into one of the fridge units. The Father busted out laughing at me... and I just narrowly avoided getting my cheeks pinched again for being So. Damn. Cute. But hey! What else was I expected to do when the few handful of milk jugs up front had early expiration dates and the cart with the later dates was in the back and staring me in the face? Obviously, I was going to climb on the front cart, stick half my body through one of the shelves, and poke my head all the way to the back. Duh.

Rain, rain, go away. This hurricane better make up its mind. I'd hate for it to end up near here next week, especially since Steph is visiting next weekend. Anyone, you're free to join. We're going to have a kickass time. Weeeeee!

Looks like everyone's getting or will be getting engaged. In this case, that would be Jen and J. I guess it's good I'm going to start working out so I can wear some slinky dresses when the time comes, huh? Especially when at least one of them requires me to be in the damn wedding party. Grr. At least now I can take care of two things at once. *sighs*

I should also probably start looking for a boytoy so I'll have someone to go with. Thing2 wants me to do speed dating with her (insert: LAUGH). She's actually thinking about going with one of her new roommates and thinks I should join them since this new roommate (and the roomie's friend) are around my age. According to Thing2, they're a lot more pathetic than me and I'll look supa-cute standing next to them. Erm. Yes, I've met these girls, so I have no comment. But gah, there's just something about being forced to impress a guy the first five minutes you meet them that makes me twitch. My personality just doesn't work that way. *wibbles* I mean, it takes me at least an hour to warm up to someone. *eyes all of you* Oh, well, we'll see if anything happens with this...

I just woke up. I know... some of you are probably laughing and wondering what the biggie is, but I'm telling you, this is very traumatic for me. It's after NOON, dammit. My internal clock used to be able to snap me awake by 8AM all on its own, and would never let me sleep past 10. This is just... *flails*

And omg, why is someone spamming my LJ f-list with slashy Sports Night fics?! IT'S NOT A SLASHY SHOW, DAMMIT!!!111!!!! *glares at Meg -- SHUT UP!*

God. I need coffee.

And shoes. I don't have any black shoes that aren't ripped across the soles. Hmm... do I want to go to the mall? They do have coffee there... Mreh.

Last night's Veronica was... kinda there. Definitely not as exciting as last week's, and it looks like the crazy-ass fandom agrees because there's a significant lack of reviews posted for it. No Beaver or Dick means I don't get to make lame Beaver and Dick jokes for a week -- this kills me, because yes, I am twelve! My new boyfriend Lamb was in the episode, and he was hot and he can snark while sitting and doing absolutely nothing at all. This is a talent I admire, just so you know. And unlike some annoying BNFy types who are still psycho-obsessed with Logan, to the extend of being ridiculously anti-anyone-not-Logan, I had no issues with seeing Duncan shirtless. He's got a nice body, even if it's kind of squishy. And I feel obligated to defend him (just a bit) because Wildcats unite! (Hrm, except the "school" part of that school kind of sucked my will to live...) Next week, thank god, looks really fun. Yay!

Speaking of things that suck my will to live... And you know it's mostly my own fault since I do have a remote control I fail to actually use... Alias is on tonight. Balty deserves so much better, and by Poohlogic, should take off his shirt and pudding-wrestle with Sark to increase ratings. Well, okay, I'D watch it. Everyone else probably still won't.

It's Wednesday!!!!!!! You know what that means! *SQUEEEEES!*

On less squeey things:
*Stinky first draft of recap is finished. Now I gotta find some Funny to punch it up. Blargh.
*Why is it so FREAKING HARD to find a reasonably priced (for NYC; I'm not delusional) hotel room over Halloween weekend? It's not even a real holiday, for god's sake. *darting eyes* (Someone wanna let us borrow their penthouse or whatever? Steph's cute; she'll put out. Or... something.)

With all the daily Star Trek marathons on Spike TV in the afternoon, I'm worried that if I'm not gainfully employed soon, I'm going to end up fluent in Klingon.

4.5 minutes left in the SGA recap. Wheee! (Although, am scared. A perfectly nice girl lost her sanity and made quote icons inspired from my last recap. I... uh... yeah. Just thinking about it makes me all sorts of embarrassed. WTF AM I DOING? They were supposed to be for a small group of friends and now... Mel says they're some of the most visited pages on the shipper site. Eep. *wibbles*)

*headdesk*

Is it Wednesday yet?
Meg's gonna kill me, but I think I'm kind of over my Logan obsession. That whole fiasco where I unceremoniously booted Pacey as #1 boyfriend (well, #1 AFTER TehBoyfriend) and replaced him with Logan last summer? Yeah, that was embarrassing. I still love him with Veronica, but he's not my absolute favoritest character anymore. After last week's VM, that spot went to Beaver. (And this is my favoritest fandom EVER just because it lets me make cheesy porn jokes disguised as critical analysis/snark of VM characters) But after my impulsiveness with Logan last summer, I already knew the Beaver love might be tenuous. And it was, because a couple of days ago, Trix linked me to a Veronica/Lamb fic where MM commented and actually wrote a bit of fanfic himself. And OMG, I think I might love him a lot little bit just for that. So, yes, I think I may have an even newer #1 on that show, and quite possibly a new #1 'ship (after Keith/Alicia, that is) -- not sure if I want to ship them as a couple or as siblings yet, but definitely not as both. Oy. God, I LOVE THIS SHOW.

The Hatefulness of the NJDOT and the Management of a Certain Rental Complex, Part Gajillion+1

RAR! The main road to get to the Pooh Apt is being widened. This project has been ongoing for almost two years and has finally reached the stretch outside the Apt. This means traffic. And lots and lots of construction trucks. And traffic. And lots of trucks parked on the road leading from the main road in question to the Apt. And lots of stupid construction workers who clog up that road with their stupid personal cars and construction equipment. And lots of stupid construction workers who do not watch where they are walking when cars from the Apt complex come down the road to get onto the main road. With winter coming soon, this is looking all kinds of BAD.

RARRR! Came back from a weekend with the folks (shocker!) to find all new parking space numbers in my parking lot. The roomie was still parked in my space. Fine. Normally I would not have a problem with this except all the numbers are different now and THERE WAS NO LETTER SAYING THEY WERE GOING TO DO THIS. Also, the three guest spots across from the parking space, which I was planning on parking in since the roomie parked his ass in mine over the weekend, are now numbered and technically gone. WTF. Where the hell are the guest spots now, dammit? Again, NO LETTER. And if you go to the rental office, they don't even know where the guest spots are -- they tell you that "there's plenty all over the place." AGAIN WTF. So last night, and this morning after I ran some errands and with the roomie still in the spot, I had to park on the street across from the Apt. The problem with this is there are no markings so anyone can park randomly on the street and therefore end up taking up one and a half to two spaces when all is said and done. *looks out* Yeah, I think I might have ended up doing that, but I parked behind another guy and there's still space behind me... well, if you don't mind parking on the speed bump... Whatever. First come, first served. And unless I'm going out to pick up some cds from the PoohBro this evening while the roomie finally unparks his ass, Sylvie is staying put for the rest of the day. Hrmph.

And they still haven't sent the rent coupon book I asked for despite my letter asking for it. Grrr.

There were two hours of blissful silence earlier this evening. The rain had stopped; or, it had slowed to an unnoticeable drizzle. BUT THEN it started up again and picked up right where it had left off. I swear, the sound of the rain pelting against the window and roof, and running down the drain? SOUNDS EXACTLY THE SAME AS IT DID THE ENTIRE WEEK. It's like on freaking LOOP. Where is all the water coming from?! Why is God testing my strength of character by attempting to drive me completely insane?! What I wouldn't give for thunder or even lightning right now, or even psycho winds. Anything.

Alias was on tonight. I sum up in four sentences:
1. Balthazar is HOT and YUMMY and would have made this show a whole lot better if he had joined back in Season One.
2. Everyone else is MEH.
3. Sydney needs to STFU.
4. THAT'S four months pregnant?!! (Sure, if you're having an entire litter. There's gotta be some weird dog years conversion here, right? Because she's ready to pop.)

Woot! At the 10 minute mark of the stupid recap. 32 minutes to go. I am soooo unfunny lately. *SIGH*

Good God, where is all this rain coming from?!

PLEASE STOP ALREADY!

The non-stop rain and my weird need to stay up until 6AM every night is really throwing off my internal clock. Night is day; day is night; what the hell day is today anyway?!

Rain, I command you to STOP!

It's freezing.

My brain is broken and I am now experiencing some really fucked up dyslexia where I start typing but the words come out backwords and spelled perfectly. And I'm not even missing a beat when I type, so for those of you who've watched (and mocked) me type, you know how freaky this could get. Especially since we're talking big words being reversed. Mreh.

I am now addicted to Pile Up and have reached the 5.5 minute mark of the SGA recap. Thank God, since I gave myself a 5 minute goal last night. Really could have passed it, but I got bored and flashback scenes are super boring. 36.5 minutes left to go.

Have I mentioned that the rain should stop? Because it should. Wetter is not always better, dammit, and it picked up even more last night and hasn't let up yet.

OMG. It's raining HARDER!

So not cool. STOP ALREADY! My TV has weird squiggly lines running through it! VM is on in half an hour, dammit! *cries*

Rain, rain, go away. Come again... tomorrow. Preferably around 8PM, kthxbye.

FUCKING RAIN, STOP!

Stupid rain making it impossible for me to go say hi to the boy tonight. *lalala*

Oh, and V? I'll save you the trouble. Watch Veronica tonight. It is/was/will be AWESOME.

STILL raining!


(It's Wednesday! Yay, Veronica!)

It is still raining.

The rain slowed to a manageable drizzle while I was out buying rabbitfood and caffeine. Then on my way home, the skies opened up again and fwoooosh! RAIN! FUCKING RAIN. Heavy, icky, wet, rain. No thunder or lightning in sight -- haven't decided if that's good or not. GRRRR. And yes, I will be doing rain updates today because I am just that bored. (Unless I'm suddenly productive and forget. Ha.)

God, someone needs to call me back and give me an interview and then a freaking job. This sitting at home watching Iron Chef and the various Star Trek marathons on Spike all afternoon is beginning to annoy. Also, without the cute boy at Bux to flirt with in the afternoons, what's the point of actually leaving the house anymore? ESPECIALLY WHEN IT WON'T STOP RAINING! Mreh.

It should feel free to stop raining any day now... any time now... how about now? NOW is good for me, dammit! I can only take so much non-stop rain. *wibbles*

And it's totally NOT NICE to try to trick me into thinking it wasn't raining today by raining while the sun is half out. GRRR. It's so bright and cheery outside, it hurts, and yet... RAIN! *depressed*

Ahahaha. After many half-assed attempts to start and three weeks later, I finally finished writing up the very first scene of the SGA recap. Granted, it was only one minute long, but whatever. I RULE, omfg. *pumps fist* Only 40 minutes of episode left. Now... I take a much needed break.

On the domestic front, this not having a working microwave SUCKS ASS. Who knew so much of life depended on the nuking capabilities of a small box? Dinner was a pain. No microwave meant not being able to heat up the leftovers PoohMommy packed for me this week. Eating necessitated the implementation of actual real cooking methods... until I remembered I have a phone and a takeout menu. Thank God for living in a civilized society.

Site refererral linked from a private message on a German forum on psychiatric care in Switzerland with an IP based in China.

And then they went through all my archives.

HUH.

It's times like this that I consider locking up the entire website.

Figures. Just when I have no microwave is when I crave popcorn. I'm seriously considering opening one of the insta-packages and PoohGyvering a Jiffy Pop for it. SERIOUSLY thinking about it. I'm just missing an aluminum pie pan. BUT I have a shitload of aluminum foil.

Hmm... Must ponder this some more, maybe.

HATEFUL!

FUCKING ROOMIE DIDN'T TELL ME HE BROKE THE MICROWAVE! NOT EVEN A NOTE WHILE I WAS OUT TODAY. OR LAST NIGHT. OR WHENEVER THE FUCK HE DID IT. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I HAD TO FIND OUT WHEN I TRIED TO HEAT UP SOME LEFTOVERS FOR DINNER TONIGHT.

WHAT THE FUCK.

WHAT

THE

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

hateful hateful hateful

You know what's kind of pathetic? Going to a school for so many freaking years, parking by the damn stadium for many of those, and just now finding the park that's right across the street from it. D'oh. But that's what happens when you decide, what the hey, park at the stadium and decide to walk it to the main campus instead of waiting for the bus. There were benches and a little brook and even one of those small rickety wooden bridges! *sigh* It took me close to fifteen minutes to get to the edge of the main campus. Blech. But then I took a turn around the university park, ie. a gravel track and some fields, and then headed back to the car. So ended my day of exercising. HEY, it's something, okay? And I was wearing jeans otherwise I would have jogged or something ridiculous like that.

My goal was to walk all the way to the other campus through the new trail/park they just put up this past summer. But... I couldn't find the damn starting point. Yeah, that was kind of stupid. Whatever. Maybe tomorrow.

I am now thisclose to fitting into that stupid bridesmaid's dress that J is going to force me into sometime in the near future. Mreh.

In a further attempt to push THAT POST down down down... I bring you words from the PoohMom.

PM: "You look like you lost weight."
P: "Er, okay?"
PM: "There was a period where you were kinda fat."
P: "WHAT?!"
PM: "But you lost some weight now. Only some though."
P: "Whoa, wait. Back up. Fat???"
PM: "Near the beginning of summer. You looked like you were getting inflated with air."
P: "OMG! I've never..."
PM: "It's okay. You're losing some of it now."
P: "..."

And right on the heels of that, the PoohDad had this to offer: "So, now that you're technically unemployed, when are you going to move back home to save money?"

*headdesk* Like I want to hear PoohMom's daily weight-o-meter. *sigh* She means well, and it really is just snark -- because that's what we do as a family -- but dammit... A BLIMP?! A few weeks ago, it was only a tire around my gut. And a month or so ago, it was just chipmunk cheeks. I'm pretty sure, when I see her in a few weeks, she's going to tell me how the Titanic had nothing on me. Hrmph.

Ha. It's pretty telling how I'd rather discuss my inability to stick with an exercise regimen than to let that drunk post stay anywhere near the top of the page, huh? But seriously... I'm running FOR REAL this time, because there's only so many times I can keep letting the PoohDad pinch my cheeks nowadays (in front of family and friends, too!) without dying from mortification. Seriously, WTF.

Duuuuuuude.

It's like early Halloween at my Bux. This afternoon, the guy who took my order -- ok, I've seen him around, but it's important to mention the resemblance now in light of recent events -- looked a bit like that blind guy with the dreads on that old Ted Danson TV show (NOT. Cheers, 'cuz, uh... duh.) Then the new guy who actually made my drink was a shorter Richard Grieco-in-his-prime lookalike. While I was waiting for my drink, a shorter, fleshier Ryan Reynolds-lookalike came in to order a cappuccino. (His name was "Joe." Shut up. I pay attention to things, k?) And as I was glancing in his direction, a taller, skinnier, cuter version of Kevin James with more hair walked by the Bux from the salad place. He came in while I was walking out the door.

WEIRDNESS.

Now. If only a boyfriend-lookalike would strut by the place WHILE the BuxBoy was working, my ass would be so incredibly glued to one of those seats. Forever.

Oh man. HORROR. WHATTHEFUCK was that last post? No, seriously. What the hell. That is totally not me. Nope. I'm not that talkative when I'm drunk. I get really quiet and really sleepy, and sometimes giggly but only when friends are around to mock me to my face. But that last post was just wrong.

Ugh.

Just. Really, really wrong. Oh man. I'm never touching blogger or LJ if I ever start drinking again. Someone remind me of that when the time comes.

Meh. Headache. Not helped by a friend -- guy from work I haven't talked to in almost a year -- IMing me out of the blue. I was tipsy. He was flat out drunk. And how do you say no to drunken!IM? You can't.

omg. So don't listen to what Meg says at all. According to her, I'm drunk or something, but really, I don't think two raspberry smirnoffs on an empty stomach would do that to me. Right? It's raspberry! They taste good.

Okay, so I'm starting to type with a lot of typos and it's only taking me like a full minute to type one sentence here to fix all of them and make sure this is coherent. And I got up to change out of my sweatpants into my pj bottoms and almost tripped putting one foot into the pants because my fingers stopped working. But they're okay now because I'm typing and stuff. See? And just because I couldn't figure out why the strap on my tank top kept falling down doesn't mean I'm a lush. No. It just means tank straps are stupid and should come with sticky tape or something. And I went to brush my teeth, but the hot water here takes awhile to warm up so I usually only turn on the hot water tap only. But I swear I knew what I was doing when I tried to turn off the water and it wouldn't turn off just because I kept trying to shut the cold water tap and not the other one.

And contrary to what everyone thinks, the drinking pre-Alias was only by accident because I was drinking to help loosen me up to start and finish the SGA recap that I was supposed to finish like two weeks ago. Okay, so I only have three sentences after almost four hours of partially working on it. And didn't realize that I had closed windows media player like almost two hours ago. But the point is that I realized it NOW. And that during all that time, I managed to condense almost one full minute of previouslies into ONE sentence, which if you know me, know that I get very longwinded on these recaps. Therefore, my brain was and is still functioning to be able to condense and summarize like that. Ergo, I can only use big words like ergo when I am not drunk. So, I am not drunk.

I'm kind of hungry now. And sleepy.

Oh wow. I was previewing this and reading it for more mistakes just in case there were any. And started to stare at the screen and zoned out. Then I couldn't feel my feet anymore and my hands felt like they were detached. But did you know if you stare at the screen long enough and at a certain angle, you have an out of body experience? It's like magic eye and the screen gets smaller and farther away. I don't think my eyeballs are attached to my sockets anymore. I don't think I blinked in the past five minutes. That's kind of scary.

Weird. Maybe i am drunk. Maybe I'm not going to do that anymore. I need to find some water just in case and drink that now like a good girl. Nods. Where's the post button anyway.

Stuff no one cares about: Alias: 2x02 "...1..." (external link)

Remember when this show used to rock the damn casbah? Actually... I've suppressed it to make the freefall seem less painful now.

God. I need more alky-hall right now.

Alias.

My ovaries are shriveling up right now. Just in case anyone was curious.

*searches through chat for any snark of interest*

...a dream is a wish your heart makes...

Excuse me while I do my 5 year old little girlie girl squee.

I kind of feel like wearing a big poofy dress and doing twirls in my room now. Weirdness.

OMG. Where'd PoohMom put my old fake tiara?

*builds up more stupid girl squee to combat the depressing suckiness of tonight's primetime tv*

Wow. I'm getting really lazy about this invisitexting thing for show spoilers and stuff. LJ cut tags have totally RUINED me!

Anyway... in case people get bored of reading about my real life gripes (which apparently, I've been slacking off on around here, too), here's the link to tonight's Veronica Mars babbling. Short and sweet. And er... there's a meme or two over there and some other TV-ish ramblings.

Gawd, my whole sleep cycle is out of whack. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't make it through the day without taking a nap now. WTF. I was reading and watching the evening news (on a pretty loud volume, too!) and all of a sudden, I was asleep and the next thing I knew, it was almost 8PM. At least the internal clock prodded me awake before VM. (Excellent internal clocking, I say!) But it was a struggle to keep my eyes open so I went in search of artificial stimulants (you know, other than my usual bubbly self.) And no... this has nothing to do with the fact that Buxboy normally works on Wednesdays. Pffft. As if. Anyway, he wasn't there, and I felt totally cheated. When I pay four bucks for a latte, I demand cute boy service to go with it, dammit.

And erm... I think I'm going back to bed now. You know, when I do finally get a job, this not being able to nap whenever the hell I want is going to really suck.

Fuck it. I went and got my own copy of The Lost Boys. Not only that, but I even got the special collector's two-disc edition. SO THERE. I got my own copy of thou shall not fall looping over and over and all that happy crap and THE FACT THAT I HAVEN'T WATCHED THIS MOVIE IN OVER TEN YEARS TOTALLY COUNTS AS AN EXCUSE!!! So Pfft and Neener and Ptooey and all those lovely hocking up a nasty sticky wad at everyone who knows who they are. Hrmph.

And also, because I am also Best Buy's bitch, I went ahead and got the Cinderella limited edition, too. Because deep down inside, I really am a girlie girl who wants nothing more than to be a princess and to have talking mice as friends. *twirls hair*

OMG. LOVE! I found a Barnes&Noble about fifteen minutes from here and it's love! They even have a huge Bux in there with a lot of tables and lots of room. (They still didn't have the book I was looking for, but I'll forgive them just this once.) Their bargain shelves are still evil. I picked up this huge book on codes and ciphers that was on sale and... argh... it's set off my spy kink again. Bastards.

Okay, I like pumpkin pie, but this pumpkin spice latte crap is just that. Icky. I don't know why everyone makes such a big deal about it. Meh. Though I have to admit, it's still better than artificial orange flavoring. *shudders*

The Blockbuster by the school officially SUCKS. How in the world do they not have The Lost Boys? Classic, dammit! Grrrrrrr. And now I'm totally miffed because I was at Best Buy earlier -- 'course, that Best Buy SUCKS, too, so I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't have it either. BLARGH!

On a happier note, I got cotton candy. So now my inner child (inner? outer? same old, same old?) is appeased.

*sigh*

After almost two weeks of not seeing the BuxBoy, I went by tonight to grab a latte treat. And yay! Boy was there. And he was all cute and stuff in his hoodie. And then... there was confirmation of smoking.

*grumps*

J is going to laugh her fucking head off when I tell her this. I am now batting 0-2? 3? now with this in the past 2 years or so. This sucks. The idea of kissing an ashtray is kinda... meh. But goddamn if he didn't cut his hair again since the last time I saw him and is still looking all sorts of cute. Bastard. I wish the new BuxBoy who I had a real conversation with the other day could be just as hot. Bah. And no hello today! Okay, granted, I worked really hard to avoid eye contact (OMG, WHY DO I DO STUPID THINGS LIKE THAT?!) I think he tends to hang out there when this other guy works, which worries me because he could very well be his boyfriend. But unlike the whole ashtray thing, the gaydar hasn't failed me yet.

Hmm... Steph? When you visit? I'm going to need you to confirm this.

*grumps some more*

Blarrrgh and squick.

Can google hate me any more? Tell me why it sent someone here -- my nice, sweet, innocent little site -- based on the search terms: goatse+tubgirl+fanfic.

No, SERIOUSLY. There are people who want FANFIC?!

*vomits*