So, I've decided that I'm going to make my journal's default setting Friends Only. I mean, it's not like I share an awful lot about where I live and shit like that, but it's more:

1. I'm sick of using monikers for people. I just want to use real names.
2. I'm super-duper paranoid that my blog will be outed and posts may be misconstrued, etc. (The internet is neither a safe space nor a private one.) I mean, anyone I'd mention (for the most part) is on LJ and on my friends list, so it's no biggie.

That being said, if you'd like me to friend you, please comment and give me a little hint where I may know you from. Mmmkay? Cool beans.

And, I know it's customary to have a big graphic with the words, "Friends Only" squiggled on it, but I'm too lazy to go look for one now.

Ganked this from Branwyn. This is what happens when a bibliophile gets her BA in English/Cultural Studies.

Onwards to the meme!

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicise those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ (if you are that bored).

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien [I could never get all the way through. So boring.)
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible [Yes, I have (in fact) read it. Shut up.]
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare [Ah, Shakespeare class, how I miss thee.]
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens [Dickens bores me so.]
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens [Fuck you, Dickens!]
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown [Yes, because a book about Mary Magdalene’s cooter being the Holy Grail is GREAT LITERATURE. GAH!]
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood [I’ve always meant to reread it. For me, at least, I appreciated Atwood more as I got older.]
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert [Hated it.]
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons [Something NASTY in the woodshed, eh?]
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie [I should read more Rushdie.]
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville [Horrible book that couldn’t even be improved by the Ho!Yay!]
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce [I preferred the Dubliners more.]
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom [Dear God, REALLY?]
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad [The horror.]
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupéry [I have a tattoo of le petit prince on my shoulder]
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

I ganked this from here. Kind of scary!true. Doncha think?

Why is your life so difficult? Because you are still repaying the bad karma you earned the last go-around, when you were Torquemada's rack-master during the Inquisition.

Your exaggerated nature provides extremes of every kind. Compulsions and obsessions explode within your psyche. A startlingly large number of you either become geniuses, or sink into the lowest depths of depravity. You latter types make ideal mates for Pisces.

Your favorite TV shows are reruns of Dark Shadows and you wear a Barnabas Collins ring on your forefinger. You love to point randomly at unsuspecting strangers and mumble gibberish. Your moods range from irritable to pissed off, and you frequently sulk, brood, intimidate, spy and cheat. That's on one of your good days. Unlike Taurus, who is blind to his faults, you are acutely aware of your flaws, but excessively proud of them. For instance, you like to wear a minipicture of your mug shot on a gold chain.

Being a fixed sign means that your emotions and opinions rarely change. You are kindly described as "still water runs deep". You more closely resemble a boiling cesspool of hydrochloric acid. Your metaphorical stinger is always poised for attack and you are supposedly known for vicious verbal barbs. In reality, most of you are merely cantankerous bores who constantly posture and gouge lines in the dirt daring others to step across.

You are so private even your relatives don't know your unlisted phone number. You have a NO SOLICITORS sign on the barbed-wire fence around your property, and anyone attempting to reach your front door will need a map and a flashlight to make it through the overgrowth. You are so paranoid that you think Alcatraz would be a safe place to live.

Scorpios have bumper stickers that say things like, "My child sells drugs to your honor student." You are chronically terse, and have Bad Ass, Son of Bad Ass, or Mother of Bad Ass tattooed on your neck.

You keep a police scanner on the kitchen table to track the movements of your friends -- both of them. Instead of family pictures, your refrigerator is covered with magnetic business cards of lawyers, therapists, and bail bondsmen. Inside is a mishmash of variety ranging from mashed potatoes to granola bars. Your eating habits swing as wildly as your emotions, from Spartan bark eater to comfort-food junkie.

Scorpio is the sign of the prosecuting attorney, psychopath, Mafia negotiator, and more-parts-than-you-were-prepared-to-lose surgeon. Scorpios also make good stalkers, astrologers, and psychics; however very few of you are in the latter profession because you refuse to acknowledge your clairvoyance.

You follow Scorpio Adam Ant's views on sex. He said, "I like sex. My songs are about sex ... sex is my life. I just find it the most exhilarating experience, and I think it should he done on stage." You'd join his band if you could.

You are the most intense of all signs. Telling you to learn to go with the flow, or to lighten up, is ridiculous. Control is your fort. Learn to use it on yourself before running over your children, friends, and lovers with your steel-belted emotions and you'll quickly discover that most people like to be around you because of the sheer force of your personality.

Just a quick note to wish y'all a Happy Hogswatch.

May the Hogfather bring you everything you wished for.

Tonight, as I was out walking Trinny past the decorated homes dripping with Christmas spirit along my Mom’s street, I found myself envying those to whom the Christmas spirit comes easily.

It’s like I’ve become Charlie Brown, Scrooge, and the Grinch all gift wrapped into one miserable “I hate Christmas and everything it represents” package. (Though I do have to say that I do have a rather pretty bow.)

I have no interest in decking the halls or trimming the tree. (Sure, I decorated the store but, in the end, it was half-arsed.) Carols grate the nerves. Christmas cards are now an afterthought. I’ve purchased gifts but have no excitement about giving – or receiving – them. There was a brief excitement with the office’s Secret Santa but it frittered away. A mere flyby during the night.

It’s not that I’ve especially been Christmas-ey, either. I remember Christmases at my Grandma’s – the house was always filled with people. So much so that I’d go into overload, retreating upstairs and seclude myself in my room. And this year, with the prospect of two Christmases (one at Auntie’s and one at my Mom’s) and the sadness that comes with houses of single families celebrating instead of the extended family altogether, I suppose I can’t get into the Christmas spirit. It’s a symbol of the loss that’s overtaken invaded my life these last couple of years. The Spirit of Christmas Past has come for tea and my time with him hasn’t quite come to pass (and to top it all off the smarmy bastard’s hogging all the sugar cookies and Egg Nog).

I guess Charlie brown put it best:

I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel. I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed.

I wasn’t thrilled in doing it, but I called the my boss on his mobile this morning and I told him that there was no way I was able to make the journey from Burlington and into the shop today. He agreed and understood (he was out taking his son to hockey so he realized just how treacherous the roads were). I wouldn’t have called in but for two things: (1.) the ice pellets mixing in with the snow and (2.) the worst of the storm is yet to come. (Oh, and (3.) there’s no where to sleep should I have to bed down at the shop to sleep.)

I felt bad as this is my third time this week calling in (the first two were due to the aforementioned tummy flu) but, as much as I love my job, it’s not worth it. The Boss Man said he’d go in around noon and open for a couple of hours but he didn’t think that anyone would be coming in. (bunny_tsukino, I really hope your Dad passed on driving you in. If he did, I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it in!)

Speaking of the tummy flu, I’m feeling much better now. It would appear that the horrible malaise, weakness, and dizziness I was feeling was due to my being completely and totally dehydrated. A Power-Aide and two Gatorades yesterday set me on the path to recovery – as did the 12 hours of dreamless sleep last night.

Today I plan on:

1. Catching up on my comics
2. Catching up on my blogs
3. Catching up on Facebook
4. Catching up on email
5. Ordering some books for the thesis (Whoo! $400 at Amazon.com!)

I finally got back into reading my New Avengers trades – I read the first two and then abandoned them. Brian Michael Bendis is a genius. (This in itself isn’t a surprise nor something I’ve never mentioned before. I just thought that I needed to remention it for the nth time.

ETA: Try more like $700.00 at Amazon.com. Fuck me.

Son of ETA: With some careful juggling (and a substantial Chapters credit), it's more like $500. Which isn't bad, considering I have most of the hardcover Marvel Masterworks' Uncanny X-Men and X-Men which are, like, $60 a pop. (And there are 11 volumes.)

While I haven’t been the best blogger on the block (though I will “knife to the eye!” anyone who insinuates that my milkshake doesn’t still bring all the boys to the yard), I had to post when I heard about this.

Seeing this message from Terry Pratchett (ganked from here) made the bottom of my tummy drop:

I have been diagnosed with a very rare form of early onset Alzheimer's, which lay behind this year's phantom “stroke”.

And I’m speechless. I have a reaction but it’s so emotional and visceral, that it just seems silly to relate to you in words. (In fact, the words “epic fail” can only describe my inability to translate and transcribe those feelings into words.*) My hard shell of cynicism has failed me and, even though I only know the man through his books, I have to admit that I teared up (quite a bit as a matter of fact) when I heard the news.

Pratchett, in true form, however, did manage to keep his humour about him (which is, after all, the only thing that one can keep himself armed with at a time like this), saying:

I know it's a very human thing to say “Is there anything I can do”, but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry.

In other news: I’m still suffering the after effects of a particularly nasty bout of the stomach flu that has kept me from working at the shop these last couple of days. But internet stalkers rejoice! I shall be in (provided I don’t relapse) for my shift (or shifts) this weekend.

* In fact, one of the reasons I’ve stopped writing is because I got sick of feeling stilted and overwhelmed by overly stuffy posts. I’ve also stopped writing in my offline journal as well. I suspect that this has quite a lot to do with it as well.

Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve updated.

While I had a plan to participate in NaNoMo, my procrastinatory-perfectionist streak managed to successfully sabotage my efforts. I WILL eventually get my act together and write my novel, but (sadly?) it won’t be this month. (Sorry Branwyn! I wish I could have been on this journey with you! Keep up the great work though! If you ever need a sounding board . . . you know where to find me!)

(Long story short: Since my novel is a little more personal than I would have liked it to be, there are some “issues” I need to work through (and read about) before I put them down on the page. I fear that if I don’t take the time to do this whatever comes out will be more “diary” and less “novel.” I know, I know, wanting to get all the background reading done before I actually write anything is the biggest hurdle to my writing (both creatively and academically). But I do know that, based on what I’ve already written with regards to this particular project, this is something I need to do.)

A short itinerary of my trip:

Left on August 29th. Arrived in Paris on the 30th (overnight flights are hell – never again) and took the train from there to Berlin (where I arrived close to midnight). Spent the week in Berlin (a lot of it was doing touristy/museum stuff and sitting in cafes). On the 7th, took a train to Paris. Then, I took another train to Royan where Fuzzy and Kel picked me up (just after midnight). Spent the week at L’Atelier. Left for Paris on the 16th. Spent the week in Paris doing all the touristy stuff, just wandering around, and sitting in cafes. Flew out yesterday morning and arrived home last evening. (I was pulled into customs but escaped without having to pay duty. The very nice customs bloke let me go without having to pay a thing (he calculated that I owed him $30 which was probably more trouble than it was worth to collect), thanking me for being so forthright and honest about how much I really spent.)

In the future I do know that I will never ever be travelling without a computer ever again (the extra weight would have been worth it) as I felt horribly disconnected with the world. I’m quite proud of myself in that I managed to get almost all the LSAT-prep I brought with me (I only left one of the practice tests I brought with me undone).

I’m very glad I went on the trip – despite the cost and despite the stress of travelling so close to the LSATs. (I will be brutally honest and say that I suspect that I probably wouldn’t have made it all the way through my trip had I not had the little break with Fuzzy and his family halfway through my trip. Travelling alone is fun but it can also be very lonely.) That being said: I’m very happy to be home.

The LSATs are in three days. I should really sign-off and get some prep done.

I’m off to get some more prep done.

(I’m SO screwed.)

After that’s all done with, I’d like to get together with my peeps!

Who would you:

Marry?
Shag?
Throw off a cliff?

I have way too much shite to do before I leave – LSATs, work-work-work (Yay! Uber-Comic Con!), planning my actual vacation (all I have to do is deal with my lodgings and plans for Paris, so that’s mostly done), meet up with those peeps I want to see before I leave, bemoan the fact that there isn’t enough time/our schedules aren’t complimentary to meet with the peeps that I also want to see before I leave but can’t, pack, etc.

Apologies to all those I was supposed to fit in but can’t and to those I owe emails/replies to – I will get to them. Very, very soon.

I’m so totally boned for the LSATs, it’s not even funny. The funny thing is, I’d be all right if it wasn’t for the games section that may or may not be on the test (the LSAT is composed of four sections (five if you count the unscored writing sample) – 2 arguments, 1 games, and 1 reading comprehension – but only three of them are scored and you don’t know which ones they are so you have to be uber-prepared for all of them) but it’s zapping my confidence. I know. I know. It’s all practice-practice-practice but it’s hard to practice when every single game makes you feel like a brain-tarded and labotomized gnat. On life support.

I took fifteen minutes to myself the other night and made the following icons and, well, I don’t know which one to use (so I’m asking you):

Icon 1: Icon 2:

You’ll have to comment as I have very little patience to create a poll right now.

Also? My MacBook Pro arrived and it’s PRETTY!

Dear PC,

Fuck you and your high CPU usage (the cause of which I have no clue of other than my hypothesis that you’re completely fucking useless and realize your days are numbered as my shiny new Mac’s sitting at my desk waiting for me to have the time to transfer all my data).

I’ve run Virus scans, spyware scans, defraggers, everything I can think of and nothing brings the CPU usage down. (It’s so bad that I can’t listen to music on my computer – it comes out sounding all jumbled and skippy.) I’ve streamlined my start-up processes (thinking that Adobe or Java updater was lagging my machine down). I’ve emptied caches, cookies, and add/remove-ed superfluous programs that I rarely use. Nothing.

Nada.

Zilch. Zero. Except more headaches. (I really don’t have time for this.)

I’ve had my computer guy reinstall Windows and then I’ve rekergiggered this fucking machine two different times in the last four months. I’ve abstained from downloading as I was convinced that my three-TV-show-a-day habit was the cause of this.

So this means: (1.) there’s a serious flaw with the software on this machine, (2.) my computer guy didn’t reinstall it properly (or that whatever’s doing the damage has burrowed itself into the “reset factory settings” – which may be the problem – it was my understanding that he was going to reformat the drive but I suppose he thought it wasn’t necessary), or (3.) the “updates” to certain software (iTunes, Windows, Java, etc.) are flawed and have broken my machine.

Whatever it is, evil’s a sad panda.

No love, PC. You have my everlasting loathing. Don’t stop working until I’ve transferred everything over to my MacBook Pro, mmmkay?
evil.

Dear Comic Book Guy,

For future reference, When a lady is purchasing her porn, do not look at her and ask, “What's a nice girl like you buying porn like this?”

No love,
evil

There's now room in my bag for the massive influx of books that arrive this Wednesday.

1. Black Canary #1 [Interesting story. I may have to pick up the second issue in the series. It’s accessible for someone (like me) who has no experience or knowledge of the DC-‘verse. In other words, you don’t have to Wikipedia every. fucking. page. to figure out what the fuck is going on.]
2. Faker #1 [I hate every single one of the characters and I still want to keep reading the book. That’s a good comic.]
3. Fallen Son (The Death of Captain America) #5 (Iron Man) [Iron Man? Still a cunt who somehow makes Captain America’s death all about HIM.]
4. Friday the 13th: Pamela's Tale [Creepy. I like.]
5. Marvel Zombies Army of Darkness #5 (of 5) [Amusing conclusion to a great series. Werewolverine, indeed.]
6. New Warriors #2 [A very entertaining story.]
7. Stephen Colbert's Tek Jansen #1 [Vastly amusing. Especially if you imagine Stephen Colbert actually acting the part.]
8. Sub-Mariner #2 [Ah, Namor. *sighs*]
9. Supernatural Origins #3 [Good Christ. Apparently when you make a comic prequel to a TV series, you shouldn’t have actually watched said TV series beforehand. Stay away from this poisoned little treat. Also? The art is absolute shite. (Not that the story’s any better.)]
10. The Punisher Presents Barracuda #5 (of 5) [Amusing. Poor Hemo.]
11. The "Back in Black" titles from Sensational Spider-Man [It was pretty good but it was missing something.]
12. The Tick: Comic Con Extravaganza [Funny!]
13. Thor #1 [Interesting. Will pick up the second issue to see where it goes.]
14. Welcome to Tranquility #8 [Gail Simone. Let me count the ways I love thee.]
15. Assorted Titles from World War Hulk [World War Hulk: X-Men was amusing. The rest were just, well, bloody boring.]
16. Assorted Titles from X-Men: Endangered Species

I'll update later with my reviews on each of the following issues that are sitting in my "to read" tote bag.

1. Black Canary #1
2. Faker #1
3. Fallen Son (The Death of Captain America) #5 (Iron Man)
4. Friday the 13th: Pamela's Tale
5. Marvel Zombies Army of Darkness #5 (of 5)
6. New Warriors #2
7. Stephen Colbert's Tek Jansen #1
8. Sub-Mariner #2
9. Supernatural Origins #3
10. The Punisher Presents Barracuda #5 (of 5)
11. The "Back in Black" titles from Sensational Spider-Man
12. The Tick: Comic Con Extravaganza
13. Thor #1
14. Welcome to Tranquility #8
15. Assorted Titles from World War Hulk
16. Assorted Titles from X-Men: Endangered Species

Our old neighbour's little boy (the one with the brain tumour) died Thursday afternoon in his Mom's arms.

My Aunt and I decided that we'd made (construct would be a far better word) a couple of lasagnes (the yummy kind with béchamel sauce and lots of cheese) for the family so they don't have to worry about making dinner. This is a fairly normal thing to do -- or so we thought -- when someone died (to take over food whether you've made it yourself or not). My Uncle, however, looked at us puzzled: this isn't a custom that he'd ever heard of. When I asked a couple of other people, they hadn't heard of doing this either.

So, I'll ask this here: have any of y'all ever heard of people taking food to family who's just suffered a loss because I always thought it was just something that was done when someone passed away.

(I hate that particular euphamism, by the by.)

In other news, AnthroCon was amusing. And drama-tastic! Final verdict: enjoyable but I kind of missed everyone since everyone has fursuits now and I am fursuit-less. (Also? The writing panels were always opposite to everyone else's plans.)

Due to the aforementioned computer problems, I thought I’d post a couple of interesting things that have happened to me over the last week.

Thursday, some Douche-Bag in a Mercedes honked at me because I had the audacity to honk at him. Why did I honk at him, Dear Reader? Well, considering he was attempting to negotiate a lane change into me (sans blinker, I should add). Apparently, I’m the asshole because he was too fucking lazy to check his bloody blindspot.

Dear Sir,

Please realize that two objects cannot occupy the same space at the exact same time. Also, please do not advertise your fucktardedness by honking at the girl who honked at you because you were going to change lanes INTO HER CAR because it’s NOT her fault you didn’t check your blind spot.

No love,
evil.

I had to stop in a different comic book store than the one I worked at and the (very, very HOT) guy behind the counter automatically assumed I knew nothing about comics. Since he wasn’t condescending and was genuinely nice and chatty, I played dumb and helpless. (In my defence, my brain and my principles were stunned by the cuteness. By the time they recovered I had already left the store and gushing about how cute it is when guys like that assume that – just because I’m a girl – I know absolutely nothing about comics.) I suspect that a group of angry feminists with pitchforks will be arriving at my door momentarily to revoke my feminist membership status.

Have discovered that the appropriate course of action for a bad day is Umbra (lavender) bubble bath and the new Janet Evanovich book. When I went into the tub I was ready to unleash the fist of death? After? All was right with the world (at least momentarily).

Last week, a bloke and his girlfriend walk into the shop: Hey! It's Likes to Fight Guy (LtFG)!

(First, a brief preface: it was one of those days where I look back and am thankful that I work at a comic book shop where most of our customers are darlings (on a very bad day only about one in every twenty customers is an asshole) and not in regular retail where you get assholes like this nine customers out of ten. Because if I had to deal with people like this on a regular basis, my seemingly-infinite patience would quickly run out and I would take a high-powered rifle and climb to the top of the nearest clock tower.)

Sir, asking me, "Who's this faggot?", when referring to the Rufus Wainwright CD playing on the shop's stereo (and honestly have no idea who Rufus Wainwright is or that he is, in fact, gay) will first make me go O_o and then it will definitely make me point and laugh at you.

It will also make me think you're an asshole.

And no, Sir, saying "Oh, Yaoi is so Gay!" while doing some shitty impersonation of a lisp and a hand-flip when referring to your girlfriend's purchases doesn't endear you to me either.*

Yes, Sir, I get it. You're a heterosexual and hegemonic male. Please stop humping the display cases.

*According to the articles I've read on the subject Yaoi (and slash fiction) are the stuff of women's fantasies. Generally speaking, they both make regular gay men fall over laughing. I have yet to hold my own informal poll on the subject.

Well, it would appear that my computer has (yet another) sexually transmitted infection virus. She's such a slut.

So this means that I dropped a fairly large wad (which appears all the larger since I am, in fact, broke) on an external hard-drive to back-up all my important data before I take her in to get spayed reformatted. My computer God guy suggested that I invest in a cheapo tower to do all my downloading on so I don't lose my entire life every time my computer happens to come down with the sniffles. He's got a good point there.

I'm also waffling on getting my Mac Book Pro. I mean, I want it. Desperately. But the whole idea dealing with an new OS and programs just makes my head hurt. However, everyone who has a Mac says that once you go black Mac you don't go back so, despite the troubles of switching, I doubt I'll be disappointed.

Also? My tits look fabulous in this top.

I've finally tried the new (sugarfree) Tab Energy drink. (For some reason the only place I can find them is Shoppers Drug Mart -- how fucking weird is that?)

It's tasty, but as with most energy drinks, it would be vastly improved with a shot or two of vodka.

Just a quick entry to say that the concert was fabulous last night!

Highlights include: Lederhosen, two sets (plus an encore!), an old favourite (and some new), a banjo solo, tacky jewellery (some pieces I even recognized as the old Sarah Coventry stuff my Grandma had – fantastically garish gorgeous), and some Judy thrown in for good measure.

And, I’d just like to state – for the record – that if my legs looked as good as Rufus’ in a mini skirt, well, I’d wear nothing but mini skirts 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Even in winter. And, I’d be sure to wear itty bitty jackets in the bitter cold because those legs? Beautiful!

Some good news: returning to Anthrocon with Fuzzy this year. And (the best news of all) we’re in the con hotel by some fluke of luck. (Fuzzy was on the waiting list but I went to the Anthrocon website to pre-register and there was an announcement that a whole bunch of new rooms were available so I made a reservation.) This isn’t to say that the Omni didn’t have its charm. It’s just now fantastically convenient. (Plus, it’s a better hotel.)

And on Sunday, guess who walks into my comic book shop? Kateo and the boyfriend! How weird is that? (Congrats on the Ph.D., girl. You're fabulous!)