Just posted the fourth chapter of TSPB. Which is good. But chapter five contains all the exposition which freaks me out, so I am uncertain when I'll get that up.
I expect to be destroyed for this, but I have done nothing this weekend. Nothing. And it isn't my fault.
Exhibit A: Friday. Was whisked off to baby-sitting immediately upon return - had only time to throw backpack into the house. Did not return until around eleven. Was exhausted, took shower, fell asleep.
Exhibit B: Saturday. Slept in due to exhaustion, brought on by being up late all week. Was once again dragged off places. Jenna's Christmas program thing, then baby-sitting. Returned at six. By this time, the computer was broken. Dad was in Vegas. Tired and angry, proceeded to watch TV all night. Was bad idea to watch History's Mysteries immediately before bed - terrified self into believing that Bigfoot was in my closet. Should stop watching things that scare me.
Exhibit C: Sunday. Was dragged to baptism of semi-cousin Ethan. Returned at three. Was by then thoroughly engrossed in Curtain and could not be bothered to stop reading, because nothing has ever affected me so much as this, but that is not the point. Finally finished, kidnapped mouse from brother, and began work on Sociology. Will be leaving in less than an hour for stupid youth group, and upon return will be watching Boston Legal and going to bed.
So, you see? It is not my fault that I haven't written a single word. It is not my fault that my Soc research is less than stunning. IT IS NOT MY FAULT. And people should really warn me before writing off my entire weekend for me.
Anyway. Curtain. I figured out...who did it. And that might account for the illness and the shaking and the complete inability to pay attention to anything else. And Agatha Christie is a goddess. And...wow.
I've been affected by books before, of course. I cry a lot. I actually screamed once, and on another occasion was so startled that I actually threw the book in question halfway across the room. The ending of So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish stunned me into near-insensibility. The point of this would be that I fear I am doomed to marry a book, and wonder if this is legal or if I will have to convince Pyrae to take over the country just to legalize marriage between human and words.
Failing that, I could turn Misery and kidnap Terry Pratchett, Richard, and all those other authors I adore, and make them write things for me.
I expect to be destroyed for this, but I have done nothing this weekend. Nothing. And it isn't my fault.
Exhibit A: Friday. Was whisked off to baby-sitting immediately upon return - had only time to throw backpack into the house. Did not return until around eleven. Was exhausted, took shower, fell asleep.
Exhibit B: Saturday. Slept in due to exhaustion, brought on by being up late all week. Was once again dragged off places. Jenna's Christmas program thing, then baby-sitting. Returned at six. By this time, the computer was broken. Dad was in Vegas. Tired and angry, proceeded to watch TV all night. Was bad idea to watch History's Mysteries immediately before bed - terrified self into believing that Bigfoot was in my closet. Should stop watching things that scare me.
Exhibit C: Sunday. Was dragged to baptism of semi-cousin Ethan. Returned at three. Was by then thoroughly engrossed in Curtain and could not be bothered to stop reading, because nothing has ever affected me so much as this, but that is not the point. Finally finished, kidnapped mouse from brother, and began work on Sociology. Will be leaving in less than an hour for stupid youth group, and upon return will be watching Boston Legal and going to bed.
So, you see? It is not my fault that I haven't written a single word. It is not my fault that my Soc research is less than stunning. IT IS NOT MY FAULT. And people should really warn me before writing off my entire weekend for me.
Anyway. Curtain. I figured out...who did it. And that might account for the illness and the shaking and the complete inability to pay attention to anything else. And Agatha Christie is a goddess. And...wow.
I've been affected by books before, of course. I cry a lot. I actually screamed once, and on another occasion was so startled that I actually threw the book in question halfway across the room. The ending of So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish stunned me into near-insensibility. The point of this would be that I fear I am doomed to marry a book, and wonder if this is legal or if I will have to convince Pyrae to take over the country just to legalize marriage between human and words.
Failing that, I could turn Misery and kidnap Terry Pratchett, Richard, and all those other authors I adore, and make them write things for me.
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:realizes that she is probably better off not being kidnapped at the moment as she has too much to do at the moment, is resigned to medrocrity: ;)
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Mwahaha.
Of course, I'm rather busy just now as well. So the kidnapping will have to wait awhile and you'll never know when I'm coming. Mwahaha. *is evil, obsessed, and probably insane*
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Yeah, I'm a bit insane myself, but I think that being kidnapped in a good cause would be kind of fun to be honest.
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And I know ways to torture people that don't involve breaking bones! *plants bamboo garden in backyard*
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TALK TO ME ABOUT THIS. I'm doing a paper on cryptozoology and I need more information in favor of Sasquatch's existence.
Also? Eight-hour Smallville marathon of the best eps on Dec 31. We're not coming home until Jan 2. Please, please, please can you tape one episode? Maybe two? When's your party? Are you even having one? The pilot runs 2:00-3:00 and that's the one I want most so I don't think it'd be that hard, pleasepleaseplease? (There are also two Lex-centric eps later on that would be very nice, and I bet MR looks yummy in them, winkwinknudgenudgehinthint)
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I cannae believe you are nae comin' to me party. I am distrait. Cannae consider tapin' for ye, too distrait. Wailywailywaily.
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I thought we were coming back on Dec 31. But we're nooot, and I can't help it! Forgive me!
(Your attempts at an accent horrify me. Please don't do that again.)
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I cannae believe this! Ye cannae be sayin' that me accent is dreadful! This is pyure Terrrry Pratchett Welsh, ye silly bigjob!
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But "distrait" hurt me.
Look! Dancing icon!
Tape? Plz? Alysa says she can probably get one for me, maybe I can get her to do two, but I must needs have more!
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Patterson tape is "blurry in all the right places," according to the dude-person on HM. But, but...PERUVIAN VAMPIRE GOAT-EATER THING!!!
Then I shall nae more say "distrait" to ye. Wha hae!
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I was really hoping to find some go-Sasquatch stuff, but the case really doesn't look that good. Sigh.
Taaaaaaaaape? Must! Have! Pilot! There is mouth-to-mouth!
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Ye shall nae have yer tape until ye find out if me darlin' Merri is comin' t' the parrrty.
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How'm I supposed to know? Call her and ask. You don't get your story bit if I don't get my tape.
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Of course I'm going to tape, you duck.
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Yay! 2:00-3:00, plz, and also 4:00-5:00 if you can manage it? That's on ABC Family. <3 <3 <3