June 27, 2003 :: 1:36 a.m.
cheesecake ice cream = proof that there is a higher power
Bleh. I'm tired and I want to read Harry Potter, but I don't want it to end so I'm sort of avoiding it. I only have about 100 pages left, so in theory I should have it finished before I go to bed tonight, but then I'll have to wake up tomorrow to a Potter-less world, and I'm not sure I can handle that at the moment. It's a very sad situation. Also, 770 pages have passed me by and Dolores Umbridge has yet to be maimed or destroyed in any way. This is completely unacceptable, and I swear to god, if I finish this and she's still ruling Hogwarts like some crazy fucking czar, Ms. Rowling and I are going to have a serious confrontation. Because I need to see justice served, dammit! Don't make baby jesus cry.
Helping my grandma out today wasn't so bad, despite the atrociously hot weather. I currently smell like something that worked up a sweat and then died while leaning against a personal space heater, though. It's really most unpleasant. I should have showered when I got home, but alas, I was once again distracted by Mr. Potter and his band of nefarious �ner-do-wells, and then FX aired "Once More, With Feeling" and "Tabula Rasa." I was, of course, glued to the screen. I've never seen the musical episode in its entirety, and while I realize that I was watching a butchered version (thanks ever-so, FX), it was still a rare opportunity. I mean, Season Six won't be out until sometime in 2004. A butchered version is about the best I can manage until then. And I love "Tabula Rasa," because come on, Randy Giles? Heh. So I read, and watched, and putzed around in my underwear (recall the insane heat) until Adam came over around 8. We walked the dog, who was ready to wrap his leash around my ankles and forcibly remove me from the house if I didn't take him out myself, and then headed to Massey's in Carlisle for nummy ice cream treats. Or nummy frozen custard treats, rather, as that's what Massey's is known for. It was a madhouse (a MADHOUSE), but they had my cherry cheesecake custard so all is forgiven. This stuff is seriously the most wonderful dessert item ever created. Ever. Adam got a cone of lemon/vanilla twist soft serve, which was also very delicious. I got to treat him for once, since my grandma gifted me with some cash - it was very nice indeed.
Aww, Adam emailed me with job links and mentioned that he got a bloody nose after he went home tonight. He gets bloody noses way too often for it to be healthy, I think. Poor thing. If I had my way, it would be snuggling and hot tea and movies all around, but of course it's not. Instead I have to sit here in my room, worried and completely useless. Hopefully one day this situation will fall away and the former will come into being, but unless I win the fucking lottery I can't see it happening anytime soon. Le sigh.
HACC's website needs to stop being a fuckwad overnight. Every time I try to use it at night I get errors, lots and lots of errors. Hey, would you look at that? It's another error! GRRR.
Anyway. Sleep is calling me like something yummy and seductive, perhaps a large slice of cheesecake or a weekend camp-over with Adam. As such, I'm going to go indulge. If I get through the last 100 pages of Harry Potter and find that Umbridge is still alive and not locked up in Azkaban, well, I'm sure you'll hear the screams.
edited @ 3:01 a.m. I just found an insect on my Harry Potter book. It was a nasty, black, buggy thing with an insane amount of twitching whiskers. It was disgusting. I sent it to its watery grave via the toilet, but now I feel like I'm covered in whatever the gross little affront to my peace of mind was. Also, HOW THE FUCK DID IT GET UP HERE? There are no open spaces in or around my windows through which to crawl. I plugged the ones around the air conditioner up tight, this very scenario haunting my mind. And I know it didn't work its way up the stairs and onto my book, because that's a damn long way for such a small (yet very disturbing) bug to travel when there are plenty of book to rest on downstairs. How am I supposed to sleep now? Seriously. GAH.
edited @ 3:31 a.m. I am having a mental breakdown and it is all the insect world's fault.
edited @ 4:43 a.m. I have spent the last hour and 12 minutes locked in a bitter and terrifying battle with what my mother called a "thousand legger." I'm guessing this is a centipede of some sort, but to be quite frank I don't give a flaming shit about the specifics just now. All I know is that that ugly son of a bitch had be sitting on a chair in the middle of my room for over an hour, feet pulled up off the floor, flashlight in hand. I should have been sleeping, but instead I was on Evil, Disgusting, Disturbingly Huge Bug Lookout.
First it crawled past my bed, then it disappeared for a while only to reappear on the wall by my computer, crawl over the banister, disappear for a bit longer, and then plant itself in plain sight on the wall directly opposite the chair in which I was so tensely perched. I couldn't get near it without experiencing severe breathing problems, so I went downstairs and tentitively said "Mom?" until she woke up. She nonchalantly grabbed it with a tissue, claiming that from the looks of me she thought I had a bat up here or something. I replied that no, if there were a bat in my room ever person in Dauphin county would hear me screaming, and then I would die.
She went back to sleep, and I stood up here in my complete and utter state of horrified disbelief, shaking, crying, and generally feeling incredibly paranoid. I am now very convinced that I need to be hospitalized for mental illness, I am afraid to go to sleep for fear that hordes of insects will mount a ferocious attack on my person while I'm unconscious and therefore unable to defend myself (or call upon anyone to defend me), and I want to shower until I bleed and my skin peels off.
Thank you and goodnight.
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