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: (ds: coffee)
Think I can sue Nintendo if my arms fall off? Wii boxing was two days ago, body. What happened to forgive and forget?

So, this conversation happened. Condensed for your convenience. )

Friend: invariably more into fandom than I give him credit for.

I managed to acquire (read: so much piracy I should get a complimentary eye patch) A Knight's Tale, too. It's been aaaaaages since I've seen it, and I'd forgotten how much fun it is. [livejournal.com profile] catwalksalone. OMG, cat. I think I'm in love with Chaucer. Or Paul Bettany. Probably both. My point is ♥__♥

The urge to break out the due South dvds has been mighty the past couple of days. I do not understand this. Generally, when I drop from a fandom, I drop with the permanence of a watermelon out a window. But lately, there is a tiny person in my brain who keeps pawing at me and wailing, "But. Raaaaay." IDK, guys. Like, 80% of the awesome things I have in my life happened because of due South. I'm unreasonably reluctant to go back to it and taint the memories or whatever.
entropical: (stab)
I am SO BORED, internets. That stubborn and frustrated kind of bored that keeps anything from holding my attention span for more than five minutes, won't let my words work, and just. Bleh. What's more, I'm PMSing. So I'm bored, and the hormones are like, yeah, because you're a LOSER who has NO FRIENDS and you SUCK and NO ONE LIKES YOU ANYWAY. I picture my hormones as angsty 13-year-olds who slam doors a lot and blast Evanescence while writing wretched poetry about the meaningless pain that is their existence.

So basically, that's a slightly long-winded (medium-winded? gusty?) way of saying that I want to cry, maybe stab something, and cry more. Then I'll dye my hair, get a bunch of piercings, and only buy clothes from Hot Topic.
entropical: (bollocks)
Done with exams! \o/ No school again until January! \o/\o/ Coming down with a cold! /o\/o\/o\

At least my body waited until after finals to be mean to me? I think my throat is turning into gravel and the world has gone slightly woozy and distant. Also, I'm pretty sure I have a fever. It is not of 103, though, so we're not in danger yet. But I just might be lame enough to go back to sleep after only being up for an hour. At... 3:30 in the afternoon. Shut up, it's a legitimate lifestyle choice.

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May 2009

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