pain and suffering in various tempos

I have this top that I have paired with a daringly wee (for me) black skirt, a tiny black shrug, and will wear with a pair of black heels.

What the HELL do I put on my legs. It is winter! And I ALWAYS wear black microfibre tights unless it's over 10 degrees (celsius) outside. I won't go bare-legged. Do I dare to track down fishnets for a fat chick? Do I just go with nude hose? I DON'T KNOW. SOMEONE HELP.

( Real life crap: I didn't want to go to the Christmas party this year. )

So my aunt and uncle have two dogs. Tango and Trudy. They are Border Collies. Tango is a boy, Trudy is a girl. They're about 10/11 years old.

They hate thunderstorms. They run and hide and cower and I fear they will expire, poor babies.

There was a monstrous clap of thunder not long ago; one of those ones where the house shakes, just a little, and you go omgwtf!

I hear the sound of a dog scrambling. I know Tango will be in his bed in my auntie and uncle's room; so it must be Trudy. And I think nothing of it.

( And then I have to pee. )

linden_jay? Stop laughing at me.

$978 to get me home to Toronto for 6 days over Christmas.

HELL.

If I was a BNF, I'd be begging for money. And lipgloss and a new laptop and was there an iPod involved in some BNF begging for things thing? I can't remember.

I can't afford it. But I will be miserable if I am not there. So...

$978. Jeez Louise!

I wanted this to be funny and tongue-in-cheek and stuff. But WOW. I'm just... yeah. That's a month at work. Lord. My poor, poor Visa!

The backstory:

I came down with a cold on Monday. This can be blamed on not getting enough sleep (late nights with linden_jay + early mornings cuz of Dad's construction/renos) and the stress of OMG I'M MOVING AND CHANGING MY LIFE AND ZOMG AND THINGS IN LESS THAN THREE WEEKS.

So Monday it was a sore throat. Yesterday, sore throat was worse (called in sick to work; I couldn't talk without the ouchy throat getting worse, plus had a fever). Runny nose started. Last night I developed a cough. Collapsed into bed early (before 2am *shiftyeyes*). Was utterly, painfully, horrifically exhausted, to the point that, like, my skin hurt.

Couldn't stay asleep. Had strange dream that I can't remember. Couldn't sleep because of the coughing. Apparently my parents heard me all night. Woke up with stuffy-ish nose.

The point of this entry:

My dad just came home from groceries. Mum calls me downstairs. She's got a box of Buckley's in her hand. I stare for a moment, she kind of gives me this little half-smile. I say "Give me a sec!" and dash upstairs (still kind of feverish: note to self, do not dash when ya have a fever) to grab a piece of gum (Extra Polar Ice, the kind with menthol so it can clear your sinuses).

HOLY CRAP GUYS. I've never had Buckley's before, but, dude, I believed the commercials. IT IS HORRIBLE. No wonder it makes you feel better -- your body goes DO NOT WANT!!!

*cries a lot*

*chews more gum*

*cries more*

1) I'm still all a-squee and a-flail and a-OMG about last night's Heroes.

2) Beanie! The Scottish Play! Beanie! PLEASE LET THIS BE REAL. IS IT REAL? SOMEONE TELL ME THIS ISN'T A DIRTY LIE LIKE THE BEAN-AS-SYLAR THING WAS.

Zachary Quinto, I love you, and I love your preposterously evil eyebrows, but I may still be slightly bitter that you aren't Sean Bean.

3) And we're doing renovations. I don't think I mentioned this. All the carpet upstairs is being taken up and hardwood laminate interlocking tile... things put in their place. And so some things have come about. ( cut for long, real-life blather about pondering a non-life-altering decision )

First grey hair spotted:
12:15ish AM, 5 February, 2006, 51 days until my 25th birthday.




Wow. And I touched up my red today; the dye somehow didn't even touch it.

sara_elf and I are going to Toronto tomorrow. Just cuz.

I spent several hours today hunched over my desk, going through my monstrous magazine collection. I have probably in the realm of 100-200 magazines, and a subscription to just two (both of which are, heh, free). I just can't believe the amounto f magazines I've bought over the years -- this is largely dating back to 2001 and Fellowship and The Philosopher's Stone. The vast majority are Entertainment Weeklies and anything sci-fi/fantasy related. There's also, though, People magazine's 50 Most Beautifuls dating back to the mid/late 90s. With pictures already cut out (which are probably in a binder or folder amongst the crap on one shelf in my closet). Why in the world did I keep those if they don't have anything in them worth keeping? *G*

Anyway, so there I was, with a staple remover, an x-acto knife, and a cutting mat. Cutting out articles and pictures. I have a pile of magazine pages an inch thick, and a pile of magazines and extra scrap pages about a foot high to throw out. And I'm only about a quarter of the way through. There's another pile of whole magazines about a foot high that I'm going to keep. Wow.

It rained today. Heroes is on tomorrow night. I fixed my Paint Shop Pro last night; no more wonky fonts. And I'm very nearly done a log for Citadel, that I'm writing all by myself. I'm also taking part in the Sons of Gondor fic exchange, 19 days till due date, and I have no bunnies nipping at my heels. Argh. Also, in the next few weeks, my hours at work are finally going to be increased again.

Huh-freaking-zah. Heh.

GIP. OTP.

re: last entry:

Help! I've been swallowed by mountains of books and CDs and DVDs and games and receipts and paper and jewellery and pens and a package that'll never reach its destination and stuffed animals and a portrait of Boromir and magazines and (shopping) bags and purses and a yoga mat and and and I can't get up.

How did I let it get this bad? I'm stunned.

I've actually finished with my dresser. Well, almost. And I did one of my bedside tables. Mostly.

Let's see. Not much to say, but I just wanted to make it clear that I did indeed survive my two weeks housesitting and that for the most part, I am okay. I may not be the happiest bunny who ever was, but I'm doing ok.

I'm writing fanfiction, right now. Not as I type this, but I have a plotbunny and the beginning of the story written. HORROR. Though perhaps this is what I need to sort of get my groove back, as that's been... bad.

I have music to offer. It's from a computer game, it's called, simply "floating". It's 10 different files of various small sizes (between 34 seconds and 1:21 in length). Enque them in your media player, select a random play option, and just let it go. It's awesome. Calming and good for the brain.

I have an upset tummy. :(

For the last several nights, I've been ready to collapse in bed by 10pm. Is now quarter to 11 and I'm awake and I have to be at work by 7:45. It's not quite fair.

I want to make vids again. I'm itchy to vid.

My brother and his family are coming to visit from the 15th until the 25th. My nephew is 10 and I've only met him once. He was four. Then there's brother's pregnant fiancee and her two kids. Agh! I don't know if I'll be able to take much "me" time then. Woe. ;)

Last item on the agenda: I have a sitemeter on my site(s). It notes referring URLs and such. A German LJ user noted my vids, the Final Fantasy Advent Children one and my Prisoner of Azkaban vid, "Under Ice". But I can't make any more sense of it than that. I'm wondering if anybody could translate for me? Is it bad form to ask for translation?

And that's it.

My house got egged last night. *sigh*

How is doing that fun? Why are kids stupid? (Christ, I didn't like or understand teenagers when I was a teenager...)