March 26, 2003 :: 7:23 p.m.
the heart-breaking life of my downtrodden esophagus
Oh my good, sweet christ. As I type this, my esophagus is squeezing itself together as hard as is possible for a lowly esophagus so that it won't have to inhale the horrible stench of Emily's cheap perfume. My lungs have learned to pack their bags and head out for a mini-vacation to Tahiti as soon as she gets the bottle out, so they're long gone - probably lying under the stars on a secluded beach someplace, the bastards - but my poor little esophagus has no such independent mobility. Alas. Of course, this binge-spritzing means that Goth Boy is coming over.
What? What is this? She just left. Wow. I don't know what to say. My world is all askew. Askew and filled with the stench of Goth Boy's trench coat, which she took to wearing this morning. She looks even more idiotic in it than he does, because where he looks like a closet nerd who wants to be all King of Pain, she looks like a preppy girl who shops at Hot Topic. Which is exactly what she is, so I guess that would make sense. Ahem. Moving on.
Did I mention that Adam got me the best poster in the entire universe? Because he did. Observe:
Is that not the most spectacular poster you've ever laid eyes on? Yeah, I know. I love it. There's another Am�lie poster that I want, but that will have to wait until I have more money or more wall space, whichever comes first. I'm guessing it will be the wall space.
So I'm supposed to be writing a paper now. On the topic I chose for the final research paper. Online privacy. I don't care about this topic one way or another, and I know next to nothing about it, so it's really a huge pain in the ass to write. Also, I just found out that this paper is due tomorrow on Tuesday of this week. I was apparently very behind the times, because everyone else and their third cousin seven times removed knew about it. So now I have to scramble around to write this stupid paper about a topic which I do not care about at all, and I have to do it in the next three hours. Two hours, actually, because Angel is on from 9 to 10 and there's no way in hell a paper is keeping me from it. Blah.
Speaking of television, though - Buffy was excellent last night. Granted, I'm easy to please when it comes to Buffy, and since there hasn't been a new episode in almost a month I was bound to like it at least a little bit. But it really was good. I dislike Principal Wood tremendously, because Spike is one of my very favorite things about the show and here Wood comes along, dragging his personal vendetta along behind him. Your mom was killed? Yeah, she was the Slayer, deal with it. Spike's a vampire, and back then killing Slayers was sort of his job. And how low was it that he had to use the trigger to bring out the demon and, oh, I don't know, validate the killing of a souled vampire who is now pretty much a core member of Buffy's group and who, when actually given the chance to use his free will, chooses not to hurt people? Whatever, Wood. Your large upper arms do nothing for me, and I personally would have enjoyed seeing Spike rip your petty little throat out.
Ahem. What was that about a paper? Argh. Off to work on that now, if I can manage to tear myself away from the various and sundry knitting sites I'm engrossed in. I sense a new obsession coming on, my friends. And I learned to bind off today! Now I can actually make a finished little square of knitting; I'm very excited. I want to run out and buy lots of needles and pretty yarns and things.
Anyway, paper time. Ciao.
edited 8:15 p.m. I forgot to mention this when I was writing about Buffy, but... WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH GILES??? Giles isn't like that. Giles is... Giles. He's nice, and English, and he doesn't get really mad in a not-funny way and go behind Buffy's back instead of talking to her about something. He's not The First, but I'll be fucking damned if he's the real Giles.
Okay, back to the paper. Thus far, I have written my name and the date. Pray for me.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005