WaKeiSeiYo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wakeiseiyo) wrote2006-10-02 05:49 pm
wakeiseiyo) wrote2006-10-02 05:49 pm
(no subject)
Randomness.
I pissed the entire day away. Fweedle.
Naamah - due to financial constraints (read: outstanding credit card balance), I'm more-or-less done hitting up local Michaels for the near future. That and I think I managed to find you about 10 good medium-or-large-sized boxes. I will look for more later, I promise. Also, they're not nesting as well as I'd hoped, so I'm going to be sending them in a BIG box. Yeah. If you need other goodies, let me know - the Michaels in Yorba Linda is the size of an effin' warehouse. (And next door to Kohls, Best Buy, Taco Bell... I'm seeing no down side to this excursion when I'm out of the red as badly as now.)
After some time passes, Osun fades and isn't nearly as bad, but I don't think I'll wear it again. Into the swap box. (I really need to make a list of what I have, what I'm swapping, etc. and put together the boxes accordingly. It's not like I'm running low on those rinky-dink $1 wooden things from Michaels to store all this stuff in. Though at some point, I really need to invest in a dremmel so I can make imp trays for my boxes.)
Still sleepy after my 18-hour sleep-a-thon. No Netflix on its way for today's mail (Bastards! I returned it all in good time! Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh!), so the cliffhanger of season 3's finale is still... hanging? I've taken to writing self-serving MarySue fanfiction to fill the void until the next dvds arrive. How sad am I? [Note to self: Dig up 'Happiness is a Kansas farmboy' icon from archives.]
My non-fanfic-Sue writings are at a lull, also. Lots of wangst. Hm. I was aiming for Carey and seemed to have struck out at emo. Fark. Ah well. S'not like I write for a real audience, anyway. (Though the number of people who have been to my house, seen the foot-high stack of writing pads in view [excluding the entire closet shelf and what's under the bed], and NOT read them... I'm touched that y'all respect my boundaries, and surprised no one has given into temptation. Especially my mother. o.O::: Jeebus. [Of course, her reading my stuff would get me committed, no doubt. Mom isn't a fiction-genre type. At ALL. Hell, she took Memoirs of a Geisha seriously from cover to cover.] )
I pissed the entire day away. Fweedle.
Naamah - due to financial constraints (read: outstanding credit card balance), I'm more-or-less done hitting up local Michaels for the near future. That and I think I managed to find you about 10 good medium-or-large-sized boxes. I will look for more later, I promise. Also, they're not nesting as well as I'd hoped, so I'm going to be sending them in a BIG box. Yeah. If you need other goodies, let me know - the Michaels in Yorba Linda is the size of an effin' warehouse. (And next door to Kohls, Best Buy, Taco Bell... I'm seeing no down side to this excursion when I'm out of the red as badly as now.)
After some time passes, Osun fades and isn't nearly as bad, but I don't think I'll wear it again. Into the swap box. (I really need to make a list of what I have, what I'm swapping, etc. and put together the boxes accordingly. It's not like I'm running low on those rinky-dink $1 wooden things from Michaels to store all this stuff in. Though at some point, I really need to invest in a dremmel so I can make imp trays for my boxes.)
Still sleepy after my 18-hour sleep-a-thon. No Netflix on its way for today's mail (Bastards! I returned it all in good time! Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh!), so the cliffhanger of season 3's finale is still... hanging? I've taken to writing self-serving MarySue fanfiction to fill the void until the next dvds arrive. How sad am I? [Note to self: Dig up 'Happiness is a Kansas farmboy' icon from archives.]
My non-fanfic-Sue writings are at a lull, also. Lots of wangst. Hm. I was aiming for Carey and seemed to have struck out at emo. Fark. Ah well. S'not like I write for a real audience, anyway. (Though the number of people who have been to my house, seen the foot-high stack of writing pads in view [excluding the entire closet shelf and what's under the bed], and NOT read them... I'm touched that y'all respect my boundaries, and surprised no one has given into temptation. Especially my mother. o.O::: Jeebus. [Of course, her reading my stuff would get me committed, no doubt. Mom isn't a fiction-genre type. At ALL. Hell, she took Memoirs of a Geisha seriously from cover to cover.] )