this tragic display of my last laugh

taps mike Is this thing on?

Tue, 27 Jan 2009 07:29:14 GMT

Hello kids,

So, it's no secret that I have been a lousy livejournaller. While I plan on leaving this journal up indefinitely, I doubt I'll be posting here anymore. I've reached a point in my life where fannish pursuits are no longer a priority for me. I still read fanfic, but I don't really write it anymore. This journal will remain up, because I have so many fond memories of it, and I want to be able to go back and revisit my fic and some of my more entertaining entries (buttsex tag, anyone?)

I am not leaving the world of livejournal forever, however; I am just moving into a different direction. A few weeks before Christmas, my awesome fiance QB complained of back pain. He went to a walk-in clinic and got diagnosed with muscle strain, but a few more days went by and he kept feeling worse and worse. I made him go to the ER when he complained of chest pains, and they admitted him immediately. It turned out he had full-blown pneumonia and hemolytic anemia. He spent 8 days in the hospital, 5 of them in ICU, and we nearly lost him. He's had a long road of recovery for the past month; he didn't return to work until week before last, and he has to go in for weekly blood tests to monitor his hemoglobin levels and platelet counts until they determine whether the hemolytic anemia was a freak occurence, or if it is a sign of an underlying autoimmune disorder (they have ruled out lymphoma and leukemia, thank God.)

So, obviously, this was a big scary wake up call for the both of us. I have committed to spend less time at work and less time online, and more time with him, and he has resolved to cut out all of his bad habits. He had already quit smoking 2 months before he has hospitalized, but now he has quit drinking too (I mostly quit a year and a half ago when I developed a sudden sensitivity to alcohol) and has resolved to eat healthy and as organically as possible. In order to keep us on track, I have started a new livejournal for both of us to document our recipes and adventures in healthy eating. It is pretty bare bones right now while we get it started, but I hope to see some of you folks over there if you're interested. You can find us at foodhole, because we are classy like that.

I can't really express how much this journal has meant to me. I've been through so much in my life since I started it, lo these many years ago. I've gone from a waitress living with a guy I barely knew in a tiny one-bedroom apartment with no furniture, to a bookstore manager engaged to the most bitchin' dude in the world in the house that we bought together with more furniture than we know what do with. (We have two beds now! For our first year together we slept on a mattress on the floor!) This journal got me through many tough times, and the people who I've met on here helped me to build my confidence so I could achieve my potential in the "real world", and cheered me up when I went through really bad times. Like I said, I'll be around still, under a different name, and I hope to reconnect with people over in the new journal. But even if I don't, know that all this meant a lot to me, and there are some people who I used to talk to every day that I really will consider friends for life, even if we don't spend the time together that we used to.

I have never really been good at endings. So I guess I will just say thank you with all my heart, and I wish all of you the best. And seriously, if anyone's interested in food and/or the occasional random story about my cats (we are elderly and lame, and we just hang out with our cats all day now), come visit us over at foodhole.

ZOMG

Wed, 12 Nov 2008 20:54:40 GMT

I just totally walked in on one of my girl cats full-on giving my boy cat a rim job on the guest bed while her sister watched. My cats are PERVS, dudes.

(I am fairly certain they have been getting into my gay porn while I'm at work. I am a BAD MOTHER.)

TEARS OF AWESOMENESS

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 04:55:45 GMT

I have tried not to be too political here on my random and infrequent drive-bys, but.

Oh my god.

You guys?

WE FUCKING DID IT.

Politics and Schmolitics

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 04:58:18 GMT

QB posted the following video on his blog, and I feel compelled to share it with all you other damn liberal hippie-types (side note: my college boyfriend's pet name for me was "pink commie bastard" because I am so left-leaning).

I have actually now informed QB of my intention to throw him over and pursue Jack Cafferty for his hand in marriage. QB's reply? "You can't marry him. I want to marry him."

Debate!

Sat, 27 Sep 2008 02:01:29 GMT

My grandparents have been married for sixty-two years. They love each other a great deal (obviously), but they have sort of tuned each other out over the years. Every time my grandma tells a story, my grandpa proceeds to tell the same story within about five minutes. Also, if my grandpa launches into one of his epic tales, my grandma will listen to the whole thing with her lips pursed, shaking her head. When he is finally done, she'll say, "THAT'S not how it happened, Ed." And then she'll repeat the entire twenty-minute long story verbatim, with one innocuous detail changed, like how the gas station attendant was wearing a blue shirt and not a red shirt.

Watching John McCain in this debate is like spending a four-day weekend like my grandparents. All he does is repeat points that Obama already made more eloquently seconds earlier, and then he keeps repeating his same tired talking points over and over and over, long after Obama has addressed them and moved on. Seriously. I have this mental picture of McCain dozing and drooling in a rocking chair on the front porch, and periodically sitting bolt upright and hollering "Pork barrel!" He looks so cranky. I think it's about grandpa's bedtime.

Man, I cannot WAIT for Biden to systematically dismantle Sarah Palin so that she can be exposed for the evil android from the future that she so clearly is.

And speaking of androids, has Jim Lehrer had work done? If not he either has a metal endoskeleton, or he just looks fantastic for being seventy-four.

Save Bitch!

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 20:42:54 GMT

Y'all, Bitch magazine is in big trouble, and needs a serious influx of cash before October 15th to stay in business.

I know money is tight all around these days, and we're all holding on to our wallets - believe me, my poor debit card is about to fall apart with the frequency I need to gas up the car with an hour and a half daily commute. But if you have any extra pocket change, or if you have a budget for charitable contributions please consider supporting Bitch. It's a nonprofit magazine with a really great message.

It's sort of a scary time in this country to have lady parts - depending on how the upcoming election goes, politicians might start attempting to get a lot more regulatory on our reproductive organs. Bitch is a really great resource for how to be an activist to protect yourself.

So! If you can afford it, please consider making a donation. Save Bitch!

Kate and QB Blog The VMAs!

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 05:30:50 GMT

So, I just got off a 10-hour shift at work a few hours ago, and I got home, and I said to myself, "Self, you could go to bed, OR you could make QB stay up late with you and watch the goddamn VMAs." Obviously, masochism trumps a good night's sleep, so QB and I sat our asses down and watched the whole enchilada. On top of everything else? We were SOBER! It seems I might be allergic to alcohol. The things I do for art!

Brittney and Jonah Hill open with a fairly unfunny skit where he tries to make out with her and she doesn’t go for it. She comes off as far more charming and funny than he does. She doesn’t actually perform, thank GOD.

Rihanna comes out to perform Disturbia. QB has loved her for years, and likes to remind me every chance he gets that he got in on the ground floor, and recognizes talent. She is moderately less awkward than she used to be. I feel bored even though she is pantsless and zombies are dancing everywhere. Did Wade Robson choreograph this, or is it just a blatant rip-off?

The VMAs are not so much in a theater this year? They are kind of like, in a warehouse with folding chairs and some bad art deco knockoff glass panels that look like they got heisted from my friend’s grandma’s condo. Instead of a hosue band, they appear to have Travis Barker just drumming along to pre-recorded tracks? Way to be high-budget, MTV!

(Oh. Travis Barker apparently has a thing on YouTube where he has videos of himself drumming along to recorded tracks or somesuch, or so QB informs me. We’ll take a brief hiatus while I make fun of QB for knowing that.)

I almost didn’t watch the show this year, because the promos annoyed me so much. Then I remembered I am lame, and I ALWAYS watch, no matter how much I swear I won’t. Russell Brand is not so much here to host the show as he is here to hype it. He makes ringmasters look subdued.

Some random hos in the audience are excited about Russell Brand. Or maybe they are famous. I am old and I cannot tell. They might be Danity Kane, or they might be unfamous hos. I think Russell Brown might also be pantsless; his trousers are so tight they seem more like leggings or paint. He says he’s famous in the UK, but so is Katie Price, so, there’s that. He is AWFULLY excited to be there. No one has ever been as excited about Kanye West as he is right now. QB wonders if Russell Brand is the UK Lewis Black. He yells a lot. We are concerned about his blood pressure. And about how Amy Winehouse will react when she sobers up and realizes he stole her beehive. He does elicit one laugh from me when he says that unprotected sex causes you to become Republican.

The worst seat in the house is behind T-Payne and his giant stovepipe hat.

Everyone keeps talking about the Jonas Brothers, ALL THE TIME. Remember the New Kids On The Block? This is like that for me, where I just DO NOT UNDERSTAND. But with the New Kids, I was like, 9 when they were famous, so I was tormented by my peers for not liking them. Now I have the excuse that I am elderly, so it’s okay if I don’t get it.

Miley Cyrus is in the audience, and I also don’t get here. She can’t sing, she can’t act, and she has the voice of a 47-year old chainsmoking truck stop waitress. QB says that is what is awesome about her. I beg to differ. I also think everyone should get off of my lawn now.

Aww, someone thinks Jamie Foxx is still relevant! It’s nice to see that fame hasn’t gone to his head. He does out Rihanna and Chris Brown as being a couple, even though they deny it with all their adorable public smooching (which reminds me – Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling are back together! I am way happier than I should be, considering I have never met them.)

The exceedingly modest Mr. Foxx presents best female video to Brittney Spears after a very awkward pause. QB is outraged on behalf of Katy Perry even though he hates that effing song, until I point out that the VMAs are not about quality (obviously, considering the nominees) but about REDEMPTION.

Someone flubs passing a microphone to Demi Moore. QB wonders why she is dressed like Minnie Mouse – maybe she thinks she’s at the Nickelodeon awards. And that Minnie Mouse is a Nickelodeon character? But Demi probably understands the Jonas Brothers more than I do, which means I am older than she is.

Best Male video goes to Chris Brown. Flo Rida was robbed! I am not just saying that because I live in Florida. Chris Brown thinks Weezy should have won. I assume that means L’il Wayne. QB thinks it means the lady from The Jeffersons.

Russell Brand says something gross about Taylor Swift and the Jonas Brothers and she looks mildly horrified.

The aforementioned Jonases come to us live from what looks like the set of Sesame Street. Oscar the Grouch is just off-camera, even more pissed than usual, because he has to listen to this crap. They look earnestly into the camera, and QB and I feel mildly grossed out. That feeling steps up into full-on violated when we observe the distinct outline of junk in the too-tight pants of one of said Jonases.

The set opens up and screaming tweenyboppers flood the lot as the tempo picks up. The Jonas Brothers think they are a rock band. It is not cute. I harbor a hope that screaming twelve-year olds will trample each other to death and the show will end early, but no such luck. The one with the visible junk waves and shows off his armpit stains to close the song.

Katy Perry performs in one of Esther Williams old bathing suits. I think more shoddy production is happening, because there is no sound, but QB informs me he muted it the moment he saw her, because he has to work in the morning, and won’t be able to sleep if that godawful song gets lodged in his head.

Michael Phelps awkwardly introduces L’il Wayne. I may skip Phelps’ SNL hosting gig next weekend, if this is any indication of cue-card reading ability. He makes L’il Wayne look comprehensible. I think L’il Wayne says he has a party in his pants, but it’s hard to understand. He swears (it’s bleeped) and one of the cellists in the orchestra looks SCANDALIZED. I am afraid if L’il Wayne’s pants get any lower his party is going to flop all over the stage. And by his party, I mean his penis. Kobe Bryant (maybe?) is raising the roof in the audience, while the lead singer of the Ting Tings is quietly horrified. T-Payne is wearing Janet Jackson’s outfit from the Rhthym Nation video. He and L’il Wayne do a pas de deux. Busta applauds politely, juggling his champagne flute. He is wearing a watch that costs more than my house.

Lindsey Lohan looks cute, even though she is braless, and girlfriend could maybe use a little support. I find her so much more endearing now that she is sober and a lesbian. She and Ciara give an award to some people named Fanny Pack before awarding Best Dance Video to the Pussycat Dolls. Aww, Demi Moore ISN’T the oldest one there! QB thinks this was fixed – he says Chris Brown can outdance all those bitches. He weeps quietly into his embroidered Chris Brown pillow.

Danity Kane blatantly product-places some cellphones. Remember when Aubrey O’Day used to be cute and sassy, before she (allegedly) hooked up with Diddy and then became a drag queen? Um, I don’t remember that either. I TOTALLY didn’t watch all those seasons of Making the Band. Nope, not me!

QB and I decide that Russell Brand is useless, and we fast forward through everything he says. Hopefully we didn’t miss anything good! I sincerely doubt we did.

I refuse to discuss the Twilight cast, even though Kristen Stewart is adorable, and should call me sometime. I manage a bookstore, and will never sell the umpteen zillion copies of Breaking Dawn which teeter precariously all along my center aisle. The less said about all that, the better.

My girlcrush on the leadsinger of Paramore takes a hit in the face of her heinous yellow pants. She sort of canters around the stage. QB slightly understands my crush now, as he is overwhelmingly impressed by her ability to headbang and sing at the same time.

RB dangles his participle, and so we are unsure whether Shia TheBeef and Slash are in a band or movie together called Eagle Eye, or only one of them is, or something.

Best Rock Video: Slash actually seems excited that Linkin Park wins. Either he doesn’t think anyone else nominated is a real rock band, or he is afraid of the guys from Slipknot.

Poor Pink. They won’t even let her in the studio. She has to perform in the back lot. Probably the audience took a vote, and decided her song wasn’t good enough to be in the building. Here is my impression of the song: Na na na na na na na na na na na. Pink continues the trend started by Rihanna and continued by Russell Brand and L’il Wayne and has ceased to wear pants. It is the pantsless VMAs! It is not a good look for most people, and I hope that the trend does not continue.

Pete Wentz’s cummerbund is almost as huge as Ashlee Simpson’s stomach. She is kind of endearing, talking about texting her votes on behalf of the baby. Pete Wentz makes an extremely esoteric joke about MJ and Lisa Marie from the ’94 VMAs which makes me kind of like him. QB does not understand my glee.

Slipknot and McLovin’ present together? Am I high? QB says Slipknot are posers, because one of them had a baseball bat and didn’t break shit. I didn’t see a baseball bat, but I may have lapsed into a coma.

Best Hip-Hop Video: L’il Wayne, “Lollipop”. If you don’t really know the song, it’s VERY SUBTLE parallel of food and doin’ it. L’il Wayne forgets to thank Robitussin for inspiring him.

Jordin Sparks is taking a running “joke” about promise rings too seriously. She calls everyone sluts. Not really. But kind of.

TI sings a song, which is not really so much a song as it is a ringtone waiting to happen. Rihanna gets to perform again. It’s a little pointless, but we love her, so it’s ok.

The High School Musical kids introduce Christina Aguilera. Do you think they’re sad that they all look ancient and leathery compared to Miley and those ubiquitous fucking Jonas fellas? QB is overwhelemed with the awesomeness of the Swedish electropo remix of Genie In A Bottle. He says it’s positively Goldfrappian. He forgets to notice how awesome Christina’s boobs look. Luckily, I am here to note these things. Also, I am apparently a lesbian tonight, as I am only ogling ladies. But, I mean, who else am I going to ogle? It’s pretty much just Russell Brand or those Jonas kids? Somehow Christina is on the set of Deal or No Deal? She is lip-synching, which makes me sad.

Russell Brand responds to Jordin Sparks by kind of apologizing, and saying he doesn’t want to piss on teenagers, and also something about rhubarb.

I LOVE LAUREN CONRAD AND I DON’T EVEN CARE WHO KNOWS IT! When Russell Brand introduces her, he pronounces “The Hills” as “The Eels”. Maybe he just wants to remind us how cold and slimy Spencer is.

QB and I have narrowed down why the sets and flow of the show were extra shoddy this year; either Russell Brand and Best New Artists Tokio Hotel spent the whole production budget on hairspray, or MTV just wanted to remind us how shallow and ineffectual they have become. Hence, the fake-y sets and stage-y fakeouts.

I know LL Cool J is about 97 years old, but he is still smoking hot. QB can get behind Ladies Loving Cool J. I would just like to get behind LL Cool J. I’m not sure how that would work. But apparently I am straight again!

Best Pop Video: B. Ritt! The redemption is complete!

Our recording ends, even though apparently the show goes on or something? There are title cards saying that Kanye will close the show in 13 minutes, but my recording has definitely ended. Oh, live awards shows running long, you scoundrels! Whatever. I cannot be bothered to hunt down the rest. I trust you guys to comment if I missed something totes awesome.

Oh, yeah. Spencer and Heidi were there at one point. But the less said about that the better.

I know we say this every year, but seriously. Worst VMAs ever.

I'm Drunk, So I'm Gonna Get On Livejournal And Ask For Help

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 00:42:37 GMT

Helllooooooooooooo, livejournal!

A) I did many hours and amounts of hurricane prep at work and home, and we didn't get any rain.

b-) I have slept 4 hours in 2 days, and I am EXHAUSTED.

3) remember when I used to have time to hang out on the old el-jay all the time? I miss that.

d/4) I have had a lot of vodka

something) QB saw a music video recently witha guy with a Broadway tattoo on his back, and Ludacris was in the video, and now he wants to to know the song and/or artist. We are on a race to figure out what it is, but my google-fu is failing me. Anyone want to help so I look impressive?

(QB and I are having our 4-year anniversary on Friday. Is that shit bananas or what?)

P.S. Has anyone heard that song "The Story" by Brandi Carlile? Holy cow do I love that song.

In conclusion, ponies are still awesome.

SYTYCD

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 03:33:56 GMT

Y'all, I just about DIED when I thought Twitch was going home. There was flailing and tears. I was sad like I KNOW HIM PERSONALLY. WHICH I DO NOT. In other words, I am hella glad he stayed, even if Will WAS probably the best dancer in the history of the universe, based on what all the judges say.

And, you know, I am that one person in the country who likes Comfort, but it's a good thing she went this week. If Mark and Courtney go home next week, it'll be just about my ideal top 4 (though I still miss Kourtni).

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 21:11:04 GMT

So, QB and I just went and saw The Dark Knight. I actually liked it a lot better than he did, it must be said. We both really enjoyed Batman Begins, but while I just regarded it as an exceptionally well-made superhero/action movie, he elevated in his head as OMG THE BEST MOVIE OF ALL TIME, and was subsequently disappointed by the follow-up.

I actually think there is a truly great movie in The Dark Knight, but some judicious editing was needed to elevate it to that status. It's biggest problem is that it was overambitious, and that's a first-world complaint, I know. It's such a rarity to find a movie like this whose biggest problem is that it's tackling too much. So I have respect for its fundamental flaw.

Maybe I am just too tied down into traditional storytelling, but I felt like there was too much conflict, too many denouements. I like the build of a movie, and then the resolution. This one had too much rise and fall. There were at least three instances where I felt like the movie was wrapping up, but then something else would happen, and we were off to the races again, some more. Honestly, The Joker was enough of a villain to sustain the movie. We didn't need quite so much of our introduction to Two-Face. If they had cut the movie off with Harvey Dent in the hospital, still bandaged, and sobbing, it would have still been a powerful indicator that we were not done with his story. The next film in the franchise could have started with the delineation of his two sides, and the battle for his soul; we didn't need to get all the build-up in this film. We had enough of a hint of his dark side when he abducted the schizophrenic guy and was fixing to torture him before Batman showed up. It will just need to be reinforced in the next one before he begins his inexorable slide into full-on evil, and so it already felt repetitive here.

I do understand that the thesis for this film was about the duality of man; how the people we think are good, often aren't, and the people we blame for evil are often trying their best. I also get that The Joker was beyond that struggle. He's certainly an anarchic villain, and in a way, it was exciting to see him exposing that duality to view. Heath Ledger certainly pushed the envelope with the character, though I can't say I agree with the Oscar buzz. I think if he hadn't died tragically young, we wouldn't be talking awards. One of the highest compliments I can pay about his performance, though, is that I didn't spend all his screen-time remembering his off-screen death, which is a feat in the face of all that media coverage.

I found myself unexpectedly moved by the plight of the people on the two boats, each with a detonator, but I think an opportunity was missed. While I loved the fact that the criminal threw the detonator off the boat, and all these hardened villains spent their potential last moments praying together, I think the filmmakers could have really pushed the envelope farther. I would have loved if those democratic upstanding citizens had pushed the button. And I would have loved it if they would have blown themselves up when they did so. It would have been utterly shocking for the audience. It would have really underlined the whole duality of man premise the film was based on. And it would have been a deliciously fucked-up thing for The Joker to do; give people a detonator, claim it's going to blow the other ship up, but really give them the one that blows up their own ship. (I realize that by positing this scenario, I am officially more of a douchebag than The Joker).

The two characters I feel got the shortest shrift were Rachel and Bruce Wayne. We maybe got a grand total of five minutes of Bruce Wayne screentime, which is a real shame. I like this Bruce Wayne; he's FUNNY, which is something other incarnations have never quite achieved for me. I loved the scene where he saves the day in his Lamborghini, and has to play the dumb dilettante with Commissioner Gordon, like he has no clue what's going on. The look he exchanges with the guy who was about to rat him out is deliciously ironic. I want to see deleted scenes with him gallvanting around with his three dates, or with the entire Moscow Ballet Company (side note: no WAY was the actress who played the prima ballerina built like a ballerina - it's not like Hollywood isn't crawling with tall skinny flatchested broads they could have cast). I mean, it's not like he can say, "Hey ladies. I'm a brooding undercover superhero, and I'm hung up on my childhood sweetheart. Why don't you show up to this event and be my arm candy, and then we'll never speak again, okay?" I mean, you know he has to be charming them (and banging them) or the charade doesn't work. More playboy Bruce Wayne, please!

(And let's not even get me started on how underwritten the female love interest roles are in superhero movies, or I shall have to write a separate manifesto. But I will say that Maggie Gyllenhaal breathed life into an underwritten role. I believed she had feelings for both men, and I never felt like she was a jerk, or like she was stringing them both along. I believed that she was smart, and ambitious, and that she laughed, and that she had a life when she wasn't onscreen. She never faded in comparison to the two strong men she was paired with. Even her death scene was woefully underwritten, and she still played it with compassion and dignity and tenacity. I mean, her dying words got interrupted, for chrissake!)

Essentially, I guess what I'm saying, is that I get that the movie was about the thin line between good and evil. I just think that's something that could have been developed in the next film in the franchise. By getting into so much of the birth of Two Face, the premise of this movie ended up kind of beating me in the head, instead of subtly unfurling in front of me. And unfortunately, the sheer chaos of The Joker got lost in the telling, and caused the character to lose impact for me. I think the movie could have been a good 40 minutes shorter, and it would have made the emotional impact that much more solid, and it still would have adequately set up the continuation of the story.

Wow. That was longer than I expected. Well, heck, even with my many problems with it, it clearly moved me and made me think, which is all you can really hope for. I give it a solid B for effort.

This One's For QB

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 03:10:59 GMT

Banderson Mooper. For serious.

Secret Internet Confession Of The Day

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 23:48:11 GMT

So, I actually got a weekend off, and managed to catch up on a three-year backlog on my DVR, and QB and I were flipping through the channels, and we got sucked into this Nickelodeon show called iCarly? And it seems to be targeted towards preteens? But it is actually really entertaining? And even though I am pushing 30, it is my new favorite show until I fickle-ly move onto something else? And I just wanted to know if anyone else was watching. So that I would not have to be embarrassed alone.

Drinking. Posting. Drosting?

Sun, 25 May 2008 00:58:51 GMT

I invented a new drink last night, and it is SO good, that immediately upon my return from work, QB pounced on me and said ZOMG CAN I HAS MORE OF THAT DRINK PLZTHX?! (I think he reads too many lolcats when he is alone on the weekends).

ANYWAY, this drink was invented because we stopped by the liquor store and found that a) Skyy Citrus was on sale for $8.99 (score!) and b) the liquor store had a weird and not very extensive selection of mixers (unscore!), so I just had to make do with what I could find. QB has requested that I post it here for posterity, because whenever I can't remember something, I just check the livejournal, because if it was important, I must have livejournalled it at some point. Oh, and the name of the drink is inspired by Odette Phillipe, who introduced the grapefruit to Florida, at least according to Wikipedia, that bastion of factual accuracy.

The Odette

- take a large glass and fill it all the way up with ice
- pour in 1.5 ounces of Skyy Citrus vodka
- pour in 2 ounces of Tropicana Twister Orange Strawberry Banana Burst
- fill the rest of the glass with grapefruit soda (we used Squirt, but Fresca would be good if you want to make it lower in calories, or Ting would be awesome if you have a West Indian market nearby)
- stick a straw in it, stir it on up, and rink it on down!

BONES FINALE WTF?

Tue, 20 May 2008 02:10:00 GMT

WTF, everybody?

Well, you can see where they had to cut a lot due to condensing things after the writer's strike. Booth got shot? THAT'S COOL, ALL BETTER NOW, HERE IS A BAND-AID OVER THE BULLET WOUND IN MY CHEST KTHXBAI. It's cool, though. Because we got naked Booth, and emotionally involved Bones! And a beer hat! Bygones!

But then, there's all drama and whiplash, because, Zach got exploded! Oh noes! And Hodgins is Gormagorgonzola! Except that would be too obvious, since they brought up MONTHS ago that he fits the profile, so it can't be him. UNLESS THEY ARE HAVING AN ELABORATE FAKEOUT, LIKE THAT TOTALLY WTF FAKE FUNERAL. So it is Hodgins! Except how maybe it's Dr. Sweets, because he's all RECENT and SUSPICIOUSMAKING, but then Booth and Bones think it's Sweets, so clearly it's not him. So it MUST be Cam, because all of a sudden she is making FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, and I find that surprising. But now they are making Hodgins so suspicious, it is CLEARLY HIM because of the elaborate DOUBLE REVERSE NINJA FAKEOUT. Although, maybe it could be Zach, because he lives in Hodgins' guesthouse, so he has the same kind of water that Hodgins does, but it clearly CANNOT BE ZACH, because-

Wait. What's that. It WAS Zach?

WTF?!

I am choosing to believe that when the season got condensed, there was a lot of really subtle stuff in there about how Zach was changed by what he saw in Iraq, because remember? How he went to Iraq? And then it was NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN? Yeah, maybe there might have been some narrative thread in there that got lost or frayed or something.

That's okay, though! *makes hand waving motions* Because you know what I've realized? It's Bones. I love this show. But it's not necessarily a very GOOD show. Entertaining as all hell? Absolutely. But good? NSM. I don't need logic or coherence. I just need Booth. Naked in a bathtub with a Green Lantern comic and a cigar, beaming bemusedly as Bones praises his lack of puritanical modesty.

BONES SPOILERS LIKE WHOA

Tue, 13 May 2008 01:41:33 GMT

UM.

DUDE.

WHAT. THE. FUCK?!

(Bones totally shot that crazy bitch in the throat! Woo!)

BUT SERIOUSLY GUYS, WHAT THE FUCK?

In other news, my DVR decided to record American Gladiators instead of How I Met Your Mother. Um, thanks DVR? It's okay, though. Luckily Jesus and Santa Claus had a drunken one-night stand resulting in the internets, and now I can watch shows later if I miss them the first time. That's the story of Easter, right? I stopped going to church when I was four, and I get all confused.

Clemenstein

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 06:45:04 GMT

Are you bitches ready for some TOTALLY EFFING ADORABLE CAT FOOTAGE?

The backstory: I've had my cat, Einstein (aka The Schnookie)for 5 1/2 years, and he was always an only child. We rescued him from some bushes when he was abanadoned at about 4 weeks old, and he is a total momma's boy who disdains other animals. For the past 3 years, he was mostly an outside cat, until about six months ago, when he got in a rumble with some kind of critter (my money is on one of the cabal of evil squirrels that lives in our backyard) and got half his face chewed off. He needed stitches and antibiotics, and had to wear a cone on his head for three weeks, and it was all very traumaticizing, and so QB and I decided that since he is kind of a creampuff, he should maybe not leave the house ever again.

A few months passed though, and The Schnookie was getting fat and lonely and crabby all cooped up in the house. So, we decided to get him a kitten. We went to the shelter, and there were these two sweet sister cats, and long story short, we had to get 'em both. They are Clementine and Imogen, and here are their baby pictures.

It took Schnookie awhile, but he finally warmed up to them. The girls adore him of course, and Clementine in particular is desperately in love with him. Her favorite thing in the world is to sidle up to him while he's taking a bath, and tilt over and ingratiate herself, until he's eventually bathing her, and has no idea how it happened.

So, without further adieu!

OMG guys, Click here to see my totally adorable effing cats.

For The Record

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 02:10:06 GMT

I have NOT already re-watched last night's How I Met Your Mother twice. That would just be sad.

How I Met Your Mother

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:59:24 GMT

Oh. Em. Gee.

No, did you guys just see that?

That totally just happened, right?

As I just shouted to QB, "VINDICATION IS MINE, BITCH!" I am NEVER right about these things. He is always making fun of me for thinking people are secretly doin' it, or secretly about to do it, or whatever. BUT NOW I HAVE PROOF THAT THEY HAVE SECRETLY BEEN JONESING FOR EACH OTHER.

The weird part is, he actually saw it coming, and I did not. When Robin invited Barney home, he was like, "Why aren't you flailing?" and I was all, "It's a fakeout. She's just going to show him her video." And he was all, "There sitting awful close," and I was like, "SHUT UP AND QUIT TRYING TO RAISE MY ALREADY FRAGILE HOPES AND DREAMS ONLY TO DEVASTATE THEM AGAIN!" And he was like, "Whoa, PMS anyone?" and then I punched him the face.

AND THEN SHE SHOWED HIM THE VIDEO. AND SHE ALSO SHOWED HIM HER TONSILS. OR SOMETHING. WHATEVER.

("So, should I just ... put it in?" Hee.)

The best part was, he wasn't even running any game on her. He was being so sweet in his Barney-way when she was crying at the bar. She and Barney really did used to be so open when they were younger, and they are so similar right now. It's only around each other that they let down their guards.

I have to go to bed soon, because I have to be to work at 6am. But I expect UNADULTERATED SQUEEING in these here comments.

IN CONCLUSION:

Dear HIMYM,

Thanks for gluing my heart back together after the Torchwood finale! Mad props, yo. Now I am off to wear out my rewind and slow-forward buttons.

Love,
Kate

P.S. That episode was so awesome, I forgot to talk about Das Van Der Beek and his wig of doom! Oh, well. Shut up, Dawson.

Torchwood Finale

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 07:09:56 GMT

Um, guys?

My heart is TOTALLY FUCKING BROKEN RIGHT NOW.

Here's the thing: I don't spend as much time on the intarwebs as I used to (I'm sure the 8 or so of you who still check my journal realize this) and consequently, I was totes unspoiled for the finale.

Oh, also, I am PMSing like a mofo.

And my heart? FUCKING BROKEN.

I figured Owen was probably going to depart by the end of the season, because as much fun as it is having Canon!Zombie characters on a show, there was only so much they could do with that storyline. And I liked Owen okay, but, you know, whatevs.

But Tosh? They killed my Tosh? Man, she had really grown on me this season (she was totally my favorite nonIanto character). Naoko Mori did such an amazing job of infusing the character with this wistful sweetness, so that I never found myself getting frustrated with her mooning over Owen. I always hoped she'd get her man. Or even better, that she'd realize he was an emotional cripple, and get it on with Jack and Ianto instead. Now she'll never have the chance. Sniffle. Poor girl.

I think I have to lie down for a while. My spirit is bruised.

And if anyone wants to send me some glue so that I can start patching together my BROKEN FUCKING HEART, that would be swell.

Saturday Nights In Florida

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 03:24:32 GMT

Me: Where ya going?
QB: To wash my face. Oh, sweet Jesus!
Me: Babe?
QB: Oh dear Lord, that's the biggest cockroach I've ever seen.
Me: Okay.
QB: You don't understand. It's so big. It's going to destroy the house. I think it just destroyed Cleveland.
Me: It sounds big.
QB: Babe, it's sitting on the toilet, reading a magazine and smoking a cigar.
Me: ...
QB: A cigar, lady!
Me: Do you want me to man up and stomp on it for you?
QB: Yes!
Me: Okay. I'm going to need your shoes.
QB: Aieeeeeeeeeee! *splat*
Me: Did you step on it?
QB: I HAD to. It CHARGED me.
Me: Would you like a gin and tonic?
QB: yes, please.

The Office

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 06:00:33 GMT

Jim! Pam! Ring! Sidewalk! Shoe-tying! Ass-kicking proposals! Banter! Eep!

How I Met Your Mother

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 23:18:47 GMT

Robin put Barney's CIGAR. In her MOUTH.

How I Met Your Mother

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 01:17:26 GMT

Hi livejournal! I know I've neglected you for months, but

TOTAL PROOF THAT BARNEY LOVES ROBIN. OR AT LEAST WANTS TO BANG HER. BUT ALSO LOVES HER.

P.S. She totally loves him, too. Or else they wouldn't be constantly SITTING NEXT TO EACH OTHER.

P.S. 2 There was flirting. And eyeballing. And flailing! (Okay, the flailing might have been me.)

!

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 00:56:44 GMT

This might be in my top three episodes. QB and I were choking with laughter for most of the episode. I liked that most of everyone's annoying idiosyncrasies were new to us, and yet absolutely in character. Marshall so sings while he's paying the bills. Like, of COURSE he does. And every description of Lily's loud chewing was hysterical.

I liked Chatty McTalksALot girl. She sure has moved up in the world from spawning with Steve Sanders! (OMG I am so old.) Also, AWESOME continuity with Ted knowing sign language.

The New York Bar Exam IS hard, dude. My dad had to take it twice. And he's been a lawyer for 25 years!

The running theme of jokes about Canada at Robin's expense is maybe my favorite thing. I mean, I love Canada. But I love jokes about Canada even more.

Okay, so, even QB picked up on the Barney/Robin vibe this episode. Did anyone else catch the look they gave each other right before the second commercial? Robin was saying how she didn't want Chatty McTalksALot to choke - at first - while she's sipping her beer. Cut to Barney shooting her an appreciative glance (like he does, a lot), but this time? She is totally eyeing him back. Oh, subtexty goodness. QB made me rewind it and play it back in slo-mo so we could get the full effect. There were vibes. I have a witness. Vindicated at last!

Plus, he admitted he wanted to see her in a wet t-shirt. But he's BARNEY. He probably wants to see EVERYONE in a wet t-shirt.

Ohmigod, that gives me the best idea ever. Since I'm on a Torchwood kick right now, maybe I need to write some Captain Jack and Barney buddy road-trip fic. Yes. this should happen.

Torchwood Fic Of Doom!

Sat, 10 Nov 2007 00:54:24 GMT

Title: Diagonalizable
Author: sadiekate
Characters/Pairing: Gwen/Owen; appearances by Jack, Tosh and Ianto
Rating: PG-13, for language
Spoilers/Warnings: Through episode 1.6, Countrycide
Notes: So, this is my first fanfic in over a year. Heck, it's my first original writing of any sort in over a year. Did I do something easy, and write in a fandom I know, such as Veronica Mars or The Fandom Where The Rosenbaum Makes Out With Everyone? Oh no. Not me. Can't keep things simple. Instead, I pick a show set in Wales, with a lot of British and Welsh people, and try to do a somewhat passable job of capturing the parlance. Oh, and I write it in second person. CLEARLY I AM A PSYCHO. But you guys knew that already. Big thanks to insunshine for encouraging my clear mental instability. Also, thanks to bitter_crimson for teaching me the word, "diagonalizable". It has nothing to do with the fic, but I didn't have a title, and it is an awesome word.

You don’t go to him right away.

This is less a testament of your unwavering senses of fidelity and devotion and morality, than it is a commentary on just how much being shot in the gut really fucking hurts.

* * *

You took two days off after your ‘camping mishap’ as you euphemistically refer to it. Rhys insisted you take the time, and, well, you did get shot. You figure you deserve a bit of a lie-in.

“It’s barely even a scratch,” Owen says the day you return to Torchwood.

He is grazing his fingers against freshly-applied bandages. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath from the ostensible pain.

His face is just a little too close to yours to be considered proper bedside manner.

“Anyway, it’s just birdshot. It’s not like you took an actual bullet,” he continues, and he’s teasing you like always, but with none of the underlying hostility from your first weeks on the team. “You’ll be right as rain in a few days.”

“That’s good news,” Jack interjects cheerfully as he enters the med lab. “We definitely want our girl on the mend, so she can keep up the next time we all have to run for our lives.”

You cough guiltily and mention something about re-alphabetizing your filing cabinet. You have to duck around Owen when you get up off the cot and leave the room.

* * *

“It’s not that I disapprove. Actually, scratch that. I do disapprove. Or I would, if I were in any sort of position to pass judgment on your personal life.”

Jack’s drinking bourbon the next night, after everyone’s gone home for the evening. You’ve already turned down his offer to Irish up your coffee. You’re on some mild sedatives for the pain, and they still make you muzzy enough that it takes you a long moment to remember what he’s even talking about.

“There isn’t anything going on, Jack. We snogged. We were about thirty-seven seconds away from death. You can’t tell me you’ve never had any near-death snogging.”

“I’ll have you know, I’ve had a hell of a lot more than near-death snogging,” he says, with that charming, innocuously lascivious twinkle he has started to show more frequently of late. “There was this one time, and this other time, and then on this – well, like I said, I’m in no position to judge.”

“No,” you agree. “And like I said. There’s nothing to judge.”

Your coffee’s gone cold and you rinse the dregs down the basin and leave the cup in the dish drainer. You’ve been trying to be more considerate of Ianto, ever since you gripped him on a dirt floor in a makeshift abbatoir, with the sound of gunfire ringing in your ears. Jack’s already rising to help you with your coat.

“Just remember,” he says in your ear, brushing your hair out from under your collar. “You’re not like me. Don’t get in over your head.”

You can tell by the wry curve of his smile that he can see every mistake you’ll make strung ahead of you like beads on a necklace.

You don’t bother to make any more denials, and he doesn’t bring it up again.

* * *

Owen’s been good at making you crazy since day one. Calling you ‘newbie’, like he’s a character from an American sitcom; challenging your credibility; impugning your intelligence; bulldozing right over your personal space.

He’s not done any of that for a solid week now, and it is making you feel crazier than everything else put together.

Owen is kind all of a sudden, to the point of being overly solicitous. He brings endless cups of tea to your desk, and picks the broccoli out of your portion of the takeaway General Tso’s Ianto brought around, because he knows the mushiness freaks you out.

The nicer he is to you, the more it makes you want to kill him, and finally you chuck a teacup towards his head when you just can’t take it anymore.

He just ducks and smiles and picks up the broken pieces, and you realize he’s found a new way to push your buttons on purpose.

* * *

When you undress in front of Rhys, his eyes always go straight to the bandage you keep over your scabs, which are still weeping a little.

He is always very, very careful not to touch.

* * *

It’s far from a normal job, Torchwood, but you all try to stitch it together the best you can. You go out after work sometimes for drinks, like regular office workers. Tosh is quiet, but she smiles down into her drink quite often when Jack gets off on a tangent. Ianto’s been coming out more frequently of late, and he organizes rounds of drinks with the same efficiency he assembles the coffee tray.

Owen smokes, and passes them over to you so you can sneak drags when no one else is paying attention. You haven’t smoked since before you walked the beat, but you find comfort again in the burn in your lungs and the damp paper between your lips.

If Owen brushes his fingers against yours on purpose as you trade the cigarette back and forth, well, that’s his problem.

Later that evening, when you huddle together in an alcove to keep out of the rain while you wait for a taxi, you flash back with an intensity to the feel of him pressed against you in a morgue drawer. That might be your problem, a bit.

* * *

“Have you ever noticed we’ve got basically the same name?”

“What are you on about?”

“Gwen and Owen. It’s just about the same name. Only one letter off. And a G is practically like an O. Just unfinished, is all.”

You and Owen are surveilling a nightclub that’s been the site of origin for a disproportionate number of missing-persons cases. You have a new device on the dash that’s like a Geiger counter, but for alien activity instead of radiation.

“I guess that’s slipped my attention,” you reply around a yawn. You think you see the needle on the counter flicker for a moment, but it’s just your eyelid twitching from exhaustion. It’s coming up on three in the morning.

“I’m just saying. We’ve got that in common. Not much else. But there is that.”

You feel something for him at that moment that you might call affection if you were feeling it for anyone else. You reach out and touch the back of his neck, and his hair curls soft around your fingers. In the space of an instant you feel your tidy universe shift off-kilter.

Then the needle on the counter flips to the other end of the spectrum as screams tear out from the darkness of the alley beside the club. You don’t know you’re out of the car and running headlong into danger again until you hear his feet hitting the pavement just beside you.

* * *

The bandages come off. That doesn’t mean everything’s gone back to normal, though. You didn’t die, but life doesn’t continue as it always did. When you touch your own skin underneath your shirt you feel the scar tissue where you were ripped apart and insufficiently mended.

You have seen things so alien you do not have the words for them, and all it does is make you feel more human. More fallible.

You don’t go to him right away.

This is less a testament of your unwavering senses of fidelity and devotion and morality, than it is a commentary on just how much being shot in the gut really fucking hurts.

Because you knew in the moment that he reached inside of you and pulled out shrapnel that you were going to let him in further still.

Rhys is so involved in the match that he barely notices you slipping on your jacket, accepts on the surface your mumbled excuse about getting caught up on paperwork while the office is weekend-quiet.

You tell yourself the whole way there that you can still turn around, but your feet keep carrying you, block by block.

* * *

Owen doesn’t seem surprised when you turn up at his flat; he just shrugs with one shoulder and lets the door swing wider.

He undresses you with more care than you had expected. He sinks to his knees and runs his hands and mouth over your skin. He is the only one besides you who has touched these new scarred places.

Underneath him, you break apart anew.

this tragic display of my last laugh

*taps mike* Is this thing on?

ZOMG

TEARS OF AWESOMENESS

Politics and Schmolitics

Debate!

Save Bitch!

Kate and QB Blog The VMAs!

I'm Drunk, So I'm Gonna Get On Livejournal And Ask For Help

SYTYCD

This One's For QB

Secret Internet Confession Of The Day

Drinking. Posting. Drosting?

BONES FINALE WTF?

BONES SPOILERS LIKE WHOA

Clemenstein

For The Record

How I Met Your Mother

Torchwood Finale

Saturday Nights In Florida

The Office

How I Met Your Mother

How I Met Your Mother

!

Torchwood Fic Of Doom!

taps mike Is this thing on?