i am disturbed

Okay, now today feels like a Monday.

Also, I am suddenly--and let me say ridiculously--jonesing for babyfic. This could be the fact that having two family members below the age of six months is affecting hormonal surges, but I want babyfic. And no, not like, normal domestic babyfic, no. I want angsty babyfic that involves kidnapping and crossing international and/or intergalactic borders and I don't know, some kind of explosion somewhere in there. Maybe with a war. I have no idea. And I want it to be very long. And you know, while I'm at it, I want Godiva on my desk right now.

Oh, this can't end well. It just can't.

I really wish I had better news than watching some kind of strange, fannish nervous breakdown in progress. So. Weird.

it's almost painful not being able to go in and correct this

Okay, I totally understand not liking a fic. I even understand not liking mine. However, if you are going to spend a dozen freaking comments bitching about it, it would probably help if you had read it, because princess, that was not the ending. And I'm pretty sure you also missed the beginning, if the description of the activities is anything to go by. And about five sections in the middle you must have skimmed big time. Along with two conversations and, how is this even possible, the only actual porn scene.

Argh. Fine, bash away, but at least bash what I actually did. I feel the wrong kind of dirty. Though now I am tempted to rewrite the fic to the specifications of the poster, because that would be awesome.

By the way, it was Stumble and Fall, QaF.

You know, that one I want to DVD commentary one day, just because that was the first time I spent a series feeling edgy and subversive about het.

ETA: Is it just me, or is my italics abuse escalating?

at some point, I'm sure this will be less crazy

So. You who have been here a while have come to maybe notice my ways of coping with a bad mood. The thing is. Well. Okay, there was this sale.

To be utterly fair, my mother needed a new monitor. And they had a really pretty nineteen inch one at Best Buy. And it was on sale! Limited numbers! That--probably doesn't explain how I walked out with a twenty-two inch one and a TV, I guess. It does however, explain why I am curled up around thirty-seven inches of flatness that mirrors my laptop when I hook everything up and keep having the strange urge to pet it frequently. Honestly, I'm not sure how that happened. But I love this TV.

His name is Benton. I--well, I don't have a new computer to name with the new fandom, so--*gestures*. The TV. Oh but it is pretty. It's flat. It is black and goes with everything. It loves me.

To easier faciliate this bonding of electronics, maybe ordered a new soundcard for the laptop and some headphones.

Frankly, the only reason I don't have a home theatre system is that God is kind and my mother, realizing too late what had happened, led me away from electronics before I completely ruined all my credit card progress. Now it is only partially ruined. Also, the Phillips one was out of stock.

But it is not baby clothes. So you know, there you go. Not baby clothes.