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Monday, April 30, 2001
So, on Queer as Folk, Brian has this bracelet that I've been in love with almost as long as I've been in love with his ass. Altho technically I suppose its Gale Harold's ass that I'm in love with, but I'm assuming the bracelet, at least, belongs to our dear Mr. Kinney. Anyway, this thing is just cool. Lust at first sight. Brian never takes it off. If they're smart, it will eventually turn out to be a gift from Michael with some weird ass story behind it. If they're not smart, Brian will just walk around wearing the thing until his wrist falls off or the show gets cancelled (may that never happen).
Anyways. This bracelet that I'm obsessed with? Delia*s has this bizarre girly version of it. Which works, I guess, cause they're girly and I'm bizarre, and female. And I currently have money. Which I am spending at a positively disgusting rate, I assure you. But still. Delia*s. Has. The. Bracelet. Or the closest thing I am likely to find. The problem? S&H is like, half again the price of the bracelet. Fuck my asshole, please. The hell? Do I really want the damned thing this much?
I don't know. If it was the exact, dead-on Brian Bracelet, there would be no hesitation. I would, in fact, even be considering paying for next-day delivery, but...its not. Its close. It so devastatingly close, and I do like it, but am I really willing to spend an extra five bucks for something that will honestly, be nothing more than a tide-over?
Hi, my name's Catherine, and I'll be your moron this evening....
sounds like mixmarster, "tragedy"
:: at the tone, the time will be 5:28 AM ::
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Sunday, April 29, 2001
Note to Self - anything that sounds fun and involves a roadtrip that your parents volunteer to fund, is born to die a swift and ugly death.
Note to Self #2 - my parents are fucking idiots.
sounds like u2, "walk on"
:: at the tone, the time will be 5:05 AM ::
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Wednesday, April 25, 2001
It seems odd to be this tired at 8:30 at night. Still, I've been up since like, 4am so I guess its only logical that I'd be tired now.
We leave for the con tomorrow. I'm kind of nervous. I haven't been to a comic convention in a long time, and never one this big, and I've also never been on a vacation without the 'rentals. God, I am so lame. Still...excited. Just me and Melly and money and lame-ass fun. Yay! Jim Mobile, away!! *lol*
I need to wash my hair. And pack. And print out the itenerary so that we only have to buy a program book if we want one, and not cause we need one. I probably will want one, tho. Or both. Oy.
You'll notice I am highly not of the movement, tho. Nono, instead I'm listening to anime music and posting in my blog and absolutely devouring this gorgeous Senslash fic by Lori.... *sighs* Why am I motivation?
sounds like v6, "change the world"
:: at the tone, the time will be 7:33 PM ::
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Fuck iMood. Just fucking fuck fucker fuck it. AARRGGHH!!!!!!!
sounds like deep blue something, "breakfast at tiffany's"
:: at the tone, the time will be 8:19 AM ::
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So apparently EZboard hates me. *glares and kicks EZboard*
Amelia went home yesterday afternoon. She will be back, tho, for tomorrow, we go to Pittsburgh! *singing* Onward to glory...onward to glory, I goooooooooo....
Ok, no, cause, y'know, Pittsburgh, but hey! Comicon goodness awaits, so YO! muddafukkas! Um. I don't usually talk like this. What is it about blogger that makes me talk like a thrice-damned idiot? Oh, well, whatever, y'know? Totally, totally fer sure, wowzers, fuckin' grand! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. *goes back to kicking EZboard*
sounds like sid vicious, "my way"
:: at the tone, the time will be 4:40 AM ::
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Monday, April 23, 2001
MELLY-SAMA IS HERE!!
That is all.
sounds like luna sea, "crazy about you"
:: at the tone, the time will be 2:32 AM ::
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Sunday, April 22, 2001
And once again god comes thru in no way, shape, or form.
I have a pop-up book about mummification now. Its highly disturbing and really, really cool. Kinda like Mikage-sama. Only more disturbing.
I want Melly and food and sleep. And why is it 2:40 in the morning?
sounds like pavement, "filmore jive"
:: at the tone, the time will be 1:39 AM ::
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Saturday, April 21, 2001
Tomorrow is my birthday. I woke up on Thursday, and stayed up all night and started my laundry at 10:30 Friday morning, and did it all day because I always put it off until there's a sick amount of wash to do, and I had to do it because I'm going away on the 26th, and there needs must be clothes, and then I finally passed out shortly after 8pm, only to be awaken at 3 this morning with a calf muscle about ten minutes away from serious cramping. And I went down to the basement, and I folded the last of the sheets and brought them up, and there was going to be PopTarts, but then I realized they were at least a year old, and they were the icky kind without the laminated frosting, and so there was fish and chips instead. And I read and had a soda and its two hours later and I'm still up. I think I want another soda.
My birthday is tomorrow. So my best friend in all the realities is coming up later today, and spending the night, and tomorrow, we're all going out to dinner. But my brother will probably be bringing his girlfriend, but no-one asked me if she could come. Maybe because they knew I'd say no? She's very nice, and she has a decent sense of humor, and I think perhaps I like her, but she has buggy fish-eyes, and she makes red hair and pale eyes an ordinary, plain look, and it should be beautiful, and my best beloved gets very quiet when we go out to eat and its more than just me and her and maybe my parents, and she's the only person I actually want there, except perhaps my mommy, and now she won't be talking, and Erin and James aren't worth that, they're simply not worth that at all.
My birthday is tomorrow, and I want to cry. Its going to be a long and painful and unhappy day, and I do not wish to be there. I want to be left behind while the others go and celebrate it, for they love me more than I ever could, and find worth where I see naught but my own waste. Waste of life and breath and flesh and space and I never asked for it, I never wanted it, so why do I feel guilty for letting the hated and unwanted die a slow and lingering death? I'd end it swiftly if I had the strength, but if I had the strength, I'd be worth something, wouldn't I?
My birthday is tomorrow. Please let me die tonight.
:: at the tone, the time will be 4:31 AM ::
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Friday, April 20, 2001
Daniel :: Its like we just stepped into the citadel at Mycenae.
Jack :: I thought you said it was Greek.
Daniel :: Oh, ah, Mycenae was an ancient city in the southern Peloponnesus region.
Jack :: Where's that?
Daniel :: ....Greece.
Jack :: Why do I do that?
sounds like stargate sg1 main title
:: at the tone, the time will be 4:31 PM ::
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I seem to have a thing for Vincent Ventresca. Which is really weird, cause like, he has no eyebrows, and the first thing I ever saw him in, I couldn't stand him. Looking back on it, the fact that he was so good at being an arrogant, pompous English professor, really says a lot for his talent. At the time, tho, it was more a matter of me staring at him and going, "Why are you on my television set?"
He excels at the everyman smart-guy thing, tho. You know, the kind of guy you always see reading comics or downloading porn. And then one day you realize he's got quantum equations scribbled in the margins of all his old Spidermans, or that he's got a second window open, and is writing a new security program for the Pentagon between downloads. The kind of guy who eats chili bacon cheesburgers and listens to the Clash while he discovers the formula that's gonna save the world.
He's annoying in comedies, but he's endearing and funny in sci fi dramas. Welcome to the sense-making.
.....and precisely when did the Sci Fi Channel gain possession of my soul, anyway?
:: at the tone, the time will be 2:46 PM ::
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I feel so goddamn sick, I can't even tell you.
I wanna go shopping. And see Melly. And...I really want to not vomit.
Ugh...I think I need protein....
sounds like the queer as folk theme (british)
:: at the tone, the time will be 5:48 AM ::
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O.O Amazon.com has Evil Dead and Evil Dead 2 - Dead by Dawn for ten bucks apiece. I waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant!!! *cries*
sounds like the ramones, "i wanna be sedated"
:: at the tone, the time will be 3:27 AM ::
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The Talented Mr. Ripley seems to make less sense the more of it I see. Like...Tom was sweet and personable, but he was throwaway? While Freddy, who was incredibly annoying and valueless, was someone to be kept around. That makes no sense to me. Maybe its just my love of misguided villians coming through. Or maybe Dickie was just an idiot. Yeah. Let's go with that.
The ending didn't happen, tho. Tom and Peter lived happily ever after in musical, murderous love, and that's all there is to it. Oh, and Marge and Meredith became friends and went on cruises together for the rest of their little blonde lives. There. Isn't that much better?
sounds like the beta band, "dry the rain"
:: at the tone, the time will be 1:40 AM ::
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Wednesday, April 18, 2001
Ok. I get the point. The gods fucking hate me. Can we move on now? Can we stop demonstrating the point? CAN WE CEASE THE FUCKING REITERATION?!?!
And why can't my brother have a cool girlfriend? There's always something hideously wrong with them. They're psychotic anorexic freaks, or they're intense art chicks who drive barefoot in the winter, or they're possessive and have voices that can shatter glass, or they're fucking FISH!!!
Actually, stratch that, I liked the art chick.
sounds like the curve, "chinese burn"
:: at the tone, the time will be 8:20 PM ::
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Tuesday, April 17, 2001
Ne, Scribble.nu is all acting like my journal don't exist. >.< Doss cunts.
Melly designed my blog for me. Isn't she fantabalicious? ^^
Signed up for space at Keenspace.com. They host online comics. They best damn accept us. Barstids. I wanna...I wanna...I wanna copy of Billy Idol's Greatest Hits. Da fook, yo? o.O;;
I'm tiiiiiiiiiiiired. And my head hoits. So I is gonna go die for a bit. I love my Melly-sama. Yo, Lucy! Shake yo' Groove Thang! Bow chicka bow-wow!
:: at the tone, the time will be 1:27 PM ::
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