but don't be sad like knives

So uh...I got super-talky this week. Yeah.

( The Cirque girls' dresses were made out of airmail envelopes, and I kinda want one. )

Somehow I've found myself hooked on the World Cup. Mainly, I cannot tell a lie, for the hot guys. I know very little, but I know which ones I hope take their shirts off. Pity it's winter in South Africa. I'm cheering for New Zealand because they have dudes on their team with day jobs, so I figure they need all the help they can get. And because the idea of explaining to your boss that you need time off to go play in the World Cup cracks me up. I am easily amused. And hope is alive for them, so my cheering seems to be working!

I've been surprised by the amount of bloodshed, but hey, it keeps things interesting. And the French kept me amused for several days with their bitchy diva antics. To the other fifteen teams being eliminated this round, I say, hey, guys, you can go home with your heads held high, even if you never won a game or got royally trounced a la North Korea, because you have a reassuring consolation prize: you are not France!

SFW, but bizarre: It's like someone made a ring on the theme of Eccentrica Gallumbits.

...that is all. I need a Twitter for this sort of thing, really.

It is eighty-five degrees in this house. Plus humidity (it's been threatening to rain all day, but hasn't quite; the air is so wet it has weight). My mother insists it will cool off "eventually" and there is no reason to turn on the air conditioning just yet.

I may die.

Send ice.

What should one wear when one's aunt is suddenly getting remarried...to her ex-husband who she divorced twenty-five years ago?

The wedding is apparently being held on the beach in late April.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but it did. I suspect someone slipped me some crack.

If you know me from the real world, or consider me someone with a modicum of shame and/or good sense, now would be a good time to scroll past the rest of this post. Additionally, if you found this post by googling yourself, your friends, teammates, or family members, now would be a good time to click the back button. Um.

Title: Stephenie Meyer Got Everything Wrong (But What Else is New?)
Rating: R
Pairing: Apolo Anton Ohno/JR Celski
Summary: Written for a prompt on wintergameskink requesting JR Celski as a newly turned werewolf. No. Really.
Warnings: Real Person Slash.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everyone mentioned in this story owns him- or herself. I am not claiming anything in this story is anything but fictional. Except for the part where they're werewolves. That totally happened. *ducks*
Author's Notes: teleute12, kimera, and butterflykiki share the blame for this. They are all horrible evil enablers.

( So are there really werewolves in Forks? )

Spotted at Wal-Mart: a surefire way to get yourself dumped on Valentine's Day. Yes, ladies, you too can tell your guy, "I'm just not that into you," with a box of Twilight conversation hearts (just like the ones that almost killed cleolinda!) with 'You're my Valentine' on one side and 'But Edward has my heart' on the other.

They also sell a Jacob variant.

"Yeah, you're okay, but I'm much more interested in a fictional character." This is totally the sentiment anyone wants to see on Valentine's Day. On the bright side it's not like teenage boys will really care about anything but the candy, never mind the packaging, but on the other hand it's crappy candy. Also, kind of creepy.

Because I don't do those anything like often enough, yeesh, hi.

1) Still no job. I'm pretty tired of searching, at this point, but I gotta keep on trying, right? I think I was basically depressed for a while there and kind of gave up, but I've been feeling a lot better about life in general since about the beginning of January, so. Yeah. Something will gel eventually, I know.

2) Dial-up internet is going to kill me yet. I don't know how, I just know that it will.

3) Human Target is a new show on FOX which combines my loves of Mark Valley, snark, ridiculousness, fight scenes, and explosions (see also: ridiculousness) and then adds Chi McBride and Jackie Earle Haley. It is basically my new favorite thing, so naturally FOX is dicking it around. Of the four airings of the show so far (the pilot was shown twice) only two have been on the same night of the week and they've been out of order. *sigh*

4) I NEED Mark Valley in Human Target icons. SO BAD. WILL NO ONE THINK OF THE STEVE?

5) Yesterday I was talking to my mom about some song or other and said, "And there's a rap part by Flo Rida--oh my God I just got that." Sometimes, I am extremely slow.

6) We've had a much colder winter than usual. It's snowed three whole times, guys!

7) I am completely over books with stupid protagonists. I spent three weeks dragging myself through Ruined, a YA ghost story that had considerable flaws, but one of them was that the protagonist was rather, shall we say, dim, finally finished the damn thing because I hate not finishing books, then started My Soul to Keep, which was promising because A) it has an awesome cover and B) from the cover copy I was quite certain it fit into my theory that psychopomps are the wave of the future. And then within five pages the protagonist was more concerned with not looking like a weirdo in public than saving someone's life. And acting like she'd never even heard of a banshee. I will not be finishing that one.

And...I think that's about all! I am so boring, God.

I posted my Yuletide story! Victory is mine!

And now I collapse in a wrung-out heap. But I can't stay there because I still have, like everyone else, a bunch of crap to do by the twenty-fifth. Aaaaaaahhhhh. At least I finally finished my Christmas shopping.

My dad's lawnmower first broke down oh, about a year and a half ago and has been repaired numerous times since then, and is now basically held together with duct tape and prayer. He has even gone shopping for a new lawnmower (multiple times!), but claims he cannot find one that quite suits him.

On Saturday, my mom and I went to a Renaissance Faire. While we were there we got a phone call from my dad, saying he'd noticed lines in the picture on his big screen TV, and since it was a projection TV he was pretty sure it couldn't be fixed, so since he was going into town anyway he thought he'd look at TVs. I hung up, suggested we might wind up getting him a new TV for Christmas to my mom, and we went on. I should have known better.

We returned home to find he'd bought the largest damn LCD TV Wal-Mart had. This thing is massive. My mom claims she's thinking of moving boarders into the box it came in, which apparently fit in the back of his Escape, so clearly there's a hammerspace pocket in there I didn't know about before. I haven't even asked how much it cost. I'm kind of scared to. The time between his noticing a problem with the old TV and buying a new, even bigger one cannot have been more than three hours.

Maybe we'll get him a lawnmower for Christmas.