*waves*

Hi, $family member that linked to me off of Matt's blog. What's up?
Go away now.

doom

K, k, k… So I had this idea for a story that was boardering on the verge of crackfic. I wrote about one and a half pages. Then I had to run off to do some quick research on Jewish views on same sex marriage. Then I was like, hey… so Abby wants her and Ziva to get married in her home state, but not all of the US supports same sex marriage, do they? I googled. I linked to Wikipedia, because Wikipedia is the answer to all of life’s problems (can one product place websites?). …There’s one state. *one*. …this totally fucked everything up and totally destroyed my inspiration to write the story. It was supposed to be fluffy weird cute humor. Now…it’ll be destined to rot on my hard drive, most likely forever unfinished. Fuck.

gaaaaah

's hot. *dies*
...no, seriously. Enough!!!!!
Finished the Cliché series on Friday night, which is more of a relief than I thought it'd be. I expected to want to write more after the original four parts, however; it was a struggle to get out the fourth part. By the end I was just like "...fine! Whatever!" Which landed the fic in a mess of fluf and cheese by the end. I'm ashamed, and really wished I could have ended better. Right now, the ending was more on the whimper side of things. I'd prefer to have at least landed within a few hundred feet of the bang.

I'm scared to work on One-Upmanship if this crap is all that's coming out. I can't do that to that story. I've got a lot more invested, emotionally, into it than into something like Cliché, which was always meant to be mildly fluffy, though not to the extent of the last one.
I've also started poking Abby/Tony. Though I think she'd be incredibly cute with Ziva, and that she and Gibbs are destined to be, I think it's most realistic for her to end up with Tony. Wierd, I know. ...stop looking at me like that, you've had your wierd moments, too, strange reader persons.

So. Y'all have seen this or a version of it, correct? Hmmm? Yes? ...sorry, you're sick of me posting it everywhere and would like me to stop before you rip my brain out of my skull and chop it into little pieces on the perverbial sidewalk? Oh. Kay then.

I'm starting to think Canada needs a 'Bath And Bodyworks'. Mmmmmmm. Of course, I also think Keith Hamilton Cobb, Pauley Perrette or Josh Holloway should come to my town, that Hot Topic sucks for not stalking fingerless gloves while my aunt was down in the US, that I should own at least one glittery eye pensil and that there should be a Starbucks within walking distance of my house. So. What do I know?

And! And! And! I know I could be linking to much more disturbing and anti-government reports and articles, but with everything that's going on I need to do a lot more reading before I make any conclusions. So :P. I'll leave all the good links up to Malcolm.

More in my lj, minions. Not...that you care. Because I don't. *g*

Real Player sucks

Have I ever mentioned how much Real Player sucks? No? Well. It does. I'm running version 10.5 (the free one, duh), and last night tried to burn a CD because Windows Media Player sucks at that.
All was going fine. I had the playlist. I had the songs organized the way I wanted them. I put a blank CD in the drive. I went to click into the file menue, and got a runtime error, a Beer comercial and a dead JAWS.
I fought with my computer until it restarted, took out the blank CD, opened Real Player and right away, recieved a runtime error and a Listereen comercial. I clicked 'debug', and got a Microsoft Script Editor (or something) error. I sent the report, and closed everything. Tried once more and JAWS crashed again.
I redownloaded Real Player. Same shit happened.
So I'm trying to fight with WMP to make my CD. It's...not working, so much.

apparently

words are meaningless
and unforgettable

Kate treats Abby like glass. Tainted, strange glass, yes, but there’s still the hesitation in the physical touches, the hurried and meek compromise in the verbal interactions that makes Abby acutely aware that Kate considers her fragile and in need of protection.

Tony does not.

I never forgot it, confusing as it was

I want to live in the space between loving and lusting.
and between caring so deeply I end up breaking, and not giving a fuck
and in a million little coffee houses owned by sweet Italian men who put chocolate on the lattes
Yeah, like the one at White Rock
And all the commercialized coffee shops that try to gain popularity with the artsy crowd by setting up shop inside of equally commercialized bookstores
Them too.
I want to live there with a laptop and write about all the people I see.
Not in the sun, with the mosquitos and the greasey food and the people who know everyone.
I don't belong here.
Five, ten years ago, I would have. Yes, I was young.
Possibly naive but they all said I was a smart girl and I believed them.
I've grown and changed and someone told me flat out that it was not for the better.
That was over a year ago.
Imagine what I've become now.