THIS IS WHAT MY FROZEN WEEKEND LOOKS LIKE.

I adore being a sixty year-old woman who watches Food Network for fun.

I read Terrence McNally, and I watch Food Network.
Watch out for my cat.

THIS IS HALLOWEEN.

Huh.

I'm currently in a Lakeland hotel room, enjoying a grande olde-timey rounde of "CSI:NY" (which is, earnestly, too many initials for me to follow without utilizing actual brain power).
Why is this compelling in any way, shape, or form?
I'm with Gibby.


You can take a few seconds to let that sink in.




Okay. And- we're good.

Could this evening get much more awkward? Maybe with booze.
Oh, wait- she refused to get a drink at dinner because she thought it might illustrate "bad decisions" in front of her "charge."
And then we almost died in traffic. And watched "Hairspray" for two dollars each.

There are very few linguistic phrases in the English language that truly lend themselves to describe this experience for me, and I still can't decide on one to use. Some include vulgarity, others irrational turns of phrase.
I just don't know.

She's asleep, now. And CSI has fifteen more minutes left. I'll just turn the volume down. After all, what if I don't stick around for what Gary Sinese has just spent forty-five minutes trying to decipher?! The evening will be lost.

I'll let you know what happens.

IF DREAMS THERE BE...

It appears that this evening remains trivial and trying, no matter how much I seek to give it romance or fire that I so earnestly miss.

Goodnight, my someone; whether you care or not, I still think of you.

DUMBLEDORE IS GAY.

This article just made my morning. Oh, lordy, this is amazing:

J.K. Rowling Outs Hogwarts Character.
By HILLEL ITALIE, AP National Writer
2 hours, 21 minutes ago

NEW YORK - Harry Potter fans, the rumors are true: Albus Dumbledore, master wizard and Headmaster of Hogwarts, is gay. J.K. Rowling, author of the mega-selling fantasy series that ended last summer, outed the beloved character Friday night while appearing before a full house at Carnegie Hall.

After reading briefly from the final book, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," she took questions from audience members.

She was asked by one young fan whether Dumbledore finds "true love."

"Dumbledore is gay," the author responded to gasps and applause.

She then explained that Dumbledore was smitten with rival Gellert Grindelwald, whom he defeated long ago in a battle between good and bad wizards. "Falling in love can blind us to an extent," Rowling said of Dumbledore's feelings, adding that Dumbledore was "horribly, terribly let down."

Dumbledore's love, she observed, was his "great tragedy."

"Oh, my god," Rowling concluded with a laugh, "the fan fiction."

Potter readers on fan sites and elsewhere on the Internet have speculated on the sexuality of Dumbledore, noting that he has no close relationship with women and a mysterious, troubled past. And explicit scenes with Dumbledore already have appeared in fan fiction.

Rowling told the audience that while working on the planned sixth Potter film, "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince," she spotted a reference in the script to a girl who once was of interest to Dumbledore. A note was duly passed to director David Yates, revealing the truth about her character.

Rowling, finishing a brief "Open Book Tour" of the United States, her first tour here since 2000, also said that she regarded her Potter books as a "prolonged argument for tolerance" and urged her fans to "question authority."

Not everyone likes her work, Rowling said, likely referring to Christian groups that have alleged the books promote witchcraft. Her news about Dumbledore, she said, will give them one more reason.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I AM GETTING TO BE A CAT LADY.

Regardless, this cartoon is Murphy. The end.

HE IS DRIVING ME ABSOLUTELY CRAZY.

Regardless, I love him to death.




Yeah. He's the cutest damn thing ever. Don't dispute me.

I'M ON THE K-LIST.

I've been solidly planted on my rear end for several half-hour-periods, merely basking in the glow of that which is "Kathy Griffin- My Life On The D-List."
I wish I could spend my life being as incredibly vain and self-absorbed, but I can't. Luckily, I can waste my time watching her.

Oh, jeebus.

CONSTRICTION.

Every extremity I possess feels numb in this barrage of moments I'll call "today."

There's no definitive reason for it; I am merely stagnant, stuck in place, and devoid of some passion to loosen life's grip upon me.
My eyes refuse to focus. They sit, pale and frightened of physical revolution.
In earnest, I would use them to smile, but there's nothing behind it. I am unhinged.

Unhinged in a good way, I think.

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

I am finally proud of myself. Finally.
And here's what makes it worthwhile: the people I feel the most for could care less.

Tonight is just one of those nights, I guess.

LIFE: COMING SOON.

There appears to be a mass accumulation of life and vitality ahead of me in the coming weeks, and I simply have no idea of how to approach it. It frightens me to think of being stuck in the fashion with which I have become accustomed in the last two months. I am gleeful to be moving forward, and incredibly grateful to have prospects on the horizon that do not disgust me, but instead invigorate my person toward something better than what I have grown weary of.

Life is fast approaching, and I cannot contain myself in such a manner to meet it with anything but open arms.

"STOP MEANS THAT YOU AREN'T MOVING."

This is why Oak Lawn, Indiana, has won my heart.
Stop. Seriously.

I AM GREEDY.

My primary motivation for the above statement is simply because of the following photo.

Not going to lie- I want one.
[Editor's Note: January 3rd. That's not too far away, right?]

MY KITTEN IS CUTER THAN YOUR KITTEN.

He's getting bigger, and I feel like a crazy cat-lady.
Yes.

RAINY DAYS.

The last three days have proven infinitely rainy, and simultaneously cozy. I sit, basking in the hurricane-esque feel of daily life, and I cannot help but wonder how the rest of the population would fail to enjoy how incredibly glorious weather like this can be. Not for the unceasing flooding or mucky waters, but for the infinite dominance and power unleashed entirely by the "forces of nature."
It's pretty damn impressive.

It's weather like this that leaves me practically unmotivated, but enthusiastic over what is to come. I could curl up with Murphy and watch the afternoons pass by, or push my car out of an outrageous puddle. The possibilities are seemingly endless.

WOYZECK IS QUEEN MARY.

If it wasn't for incessant Modern Drama research (because I love it) and Arrested Development on DVD (because I adore it), I would be leaning toward mental breakdown.

There is nothing that a hefty combination of Georg Büchner and George-Michael Bluth cannot cure.


I have so much more that I would love to verbalize, but little that could be made literate without incredible focus and determination. Neither of which I possess in any degree.

"MY FIRST CRUSH."

I love this.

Um, that's pretty much it.

I AM A CREATURE OF SORTS.

The mechanical noise of an air system clicks intently overhead, and I sit, just barely moonlit, fully intent on proving myself a capable person beyond any rational doubt.

It is an awe-inspiring thing to watch myself gradually drift away from idyllic notions of "romance" and "passion." I have begun to reserve these things as necessities for utilization not in interpersonal relationships, but, instead, in the realms ethic and organization.

Honestly, I have yet to see the negatives.
-I do not feel cloudy or overwhelmed.
-I am not an emotional wreck.
-I still have feelings, but none which interfere with who I am and how I resort to handling myself.
-I feel as stoic as I did in high school.
-I am suddenly (and very suddenly, at that) detached from the notion of "loneliness."

The less-than-calculated movement of my life thus far is presenting itself as a rather forward and eager ploy at molding my future through the hands of others. My design; their tools.

In earnest, I have never been crafty.

SHUT UP, CAMERON.

Oh, how I missed my Hugh Laurie. Yum.

This weekend should prove to be nothing erroneously special beyond pulling my body out of an intolerable level of sickness, and reveling in season three of House, M.D...

...oh. And, trying to find suitable living situations, class assignments of the accounting/managerial/economic natures, and departmental work. Those wonderful things that solidify myself as an incredibly lazy over-achiever.

THIS IS GOING TO BE...

...the most hectic week of my life. Yeah. I think so.
Here's to something I can't be bothered to recall and toast to.
Oh, and here's Murphy.

Never mind. The video refuses to upload. I love technology.

EFF THIS SHIZZ.

I hate this time that leaves me less than senile to draw on life, previous experience, adorations, love, etc.

My life is maniacally boring.

There are times when I genuinely hate the individual I've become.


I guess I need to read more.