entropical: (teevee)
Okay, so I'm not even all the way through the first episode of The Middleman and just - aladkjfadl! Why did I not watch this ages ago? OMG LOVE. More on this later, probably. When I've seen more than half an hour of the show.

Things I am apparently also watching:

- Farscape. For this I blame [livejournal.com profile] lordessrenegade and [livejournal.com profile] catwalksalone.
- Psych. Only one episode behind! \o/
- Veronica Mars. Mainly 'cause Vonnie scolded me a lot when she found out I'd never seen it. Er, oops? I think I was busy with HP at the time, I cannot be blamed.

And then there's still the Merlin love and the Aubrey/Maturin series - into which I've dragged others YAY PIMPING. And, y'know, finding time to eat and sleep and go to class. This multifannish thing is hard, yo.

There's RL stuff in there too but it's all boring and I can't be bothered. *handwaving* Today I spent time with real human beings in the same room as me. That totally counts as an event, right?
entropical: (Psych: Invisible)
I would like to register a complaint at the department of evolution. This female reproductive system is borked. A cranky uterus results in an aching back, how? There has to be a better design.

Have caved and ordered the next three Aubrey/Maturin books. (How much do I love that that's what the series is called by people who aren't writing fanfic about it? *holds arms out wide*) Friend mocked me most cruelly. His tune changed once the words "gay" and "subtext" came up. It is, after all, our most favorite of all subtexts. It legitimizes many lifestyle choices.

While we're on the topic, I'm going to ramble about Psych a little. )

Current clothing choices involve a black undershirt, this t-shirt, and black pajama pants. I'm wonky hair and a mask away from being a very scene ninja, and I do not even care. I have to get up for an 8am lab tomorrow, and I intend to laze it up even more than usual this evening.

Memo to self: lungs are not like delicate flowers. They do not need to be watered, especially not with tea.
entropical: (PaTD: frolicking)
Motherfucking SNOW DAY! \o/ YEAH, BITCHES! Watch as I swear a lot in my joy! (Like Neil Gaiman, in a way.) Thank god for living in almost-the-south, where three inches of snow make the entire county shut down. I will pause for all you northerners to laugh disdainfully, secure in the knowledge that you're just jellus.

Have finished Master and Commander. I was dumb and didn't pre-buy the next couple in the series, so I am now bereft of Jack and Stephen. *sadface* I just - *flail* )

And because I like to hedge my pimpery with caveats, I have to say that I can fully understand not getting the love. The books are more a record of the lives of Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin than anything else. There isn't really a conventional narrative structure with exposition leading into the exciting bits in the middle and then tapering off into denouement. It's one continuous story full of lots of ye olde naval jargon. But: LOVE. I have so much love for it.

I've moved on to the first book in the Lymond Chronicles, because apparently I enjoy having to pause and look things up every ten minutes. (Scottish people do not speak English, I have concluded. Already there are entire sentences where I understand neither subject nor verb.) Testing the waters here to see if I like it, and then I'll probably obtain the next two Aubrey-Maturin and the second in this series all at once.

And, just to round things out in an entry composed of 90% fannish flailing, I have pinpointed the exact moment that I gave up and loved Psych with my entire soul: An episode about Spanish soap operas in which they translated the theme song. Possibly I will need icons.
entropical: (teevee)
Ugh, Psych, stop finding ways to make me love you more. ♥
entropical: (witticism)
Time hasn't done anything to make me hate organic chemistry less. I swear to god, I can feel my soul withering with every minute I sit in that lecture hall. And I have it again tomorrow. *sobs* Intro to Shakespeare afterward is soothing and peaceful by comparison.

Why did no one warn me that breaking in boots is an immensely painful experience? Sweet merciful Jesus, OW. I expected there to be BLOOD when I got them off. Damn you, Doc Martens, I will wear you even if it kills me, and it looks like it very well might. Exsanguination through the ankles.

Also, to wrap things up in the usual no-segues-ever way, I've started watching Psych. Dudes, one day I will learn to listen to you when you say you love something. I really, really will. This show is AWESOME.

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May 2009

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