You know, I was thinking about how neat it would be to have a mini Groundhog Day scenario, in which I got a day where nothing counted. I could do whatever I wanted, then when I woke up the next morning no one would remember, and I would relive the day again.

Then I realized that I would probably just spend the day goofing off on the internet. Sad but true.

I'm finally making progress on the Merlin/Morgana fic that I've been trying to write. It's amazing how much easier it is to write a story once you realize what it wants to be. I thought it was supposed to be sparse and minimalist, no more than a double drabble. Turns out that the scene I was picturing wanted to be more than two hundred words, and it wanted to be just one scene in a longer fic. The more you know!

I have been having some very strange dreams. There was the one where I was vaguely disconcerted by the possible expired tofurky in my fridge. (Maybe it was planning something, I don't know.) Then there was the one I had last night. I was living in a condo right across from a Boulder restaurant called The Sink. My mother came over to visit and was really angry when she saw what a mess it was, because as it turns out, it was the condo I'm living in now that belongs to her husband. I could be forgiven for not knowing this, since it looked completely different and was a completely different location. Anyway, I ended up having a nervous breakdown in a bathtub (which for some reason was in the kitchen) in which I began to believe that all the characters that I write fanfic about were actually real. Then my mother came in and was all, "Do you really have to have a nervous breakdown now?" so I tried to stop... and then I woke up. I believe that dream to be a mix of a desire for hamburgers, writing fanfic late at night, and recently cleaning the bathtub.

I'd tell you about the dream I had while I was napping earlier this evening, but any dream after which one wakes up and thinks, "But why was the bestiality there?" is probably not a dream which should be shared with the public.

I am currently amusing myself with McSweeney's Lists. I particularly like Footnotes, Endnotes, and Parentheticals That Cost Me Marks on My Thesis, Less Popular Alternatives to First-Person Shooters, The Lesser-Known Slogans of Political Moderates, James Bond Films for the George W. Bush Era, and Rarely Used Parenthetical Statements. Also, for b_hallward, Classes My Top-Tier Law School Should Have Offered as Warnings About the Profession.

La, la, la, I think that I'm done.

EDIT: Also, Things That Will Destroy My Heterosexual Marriage Long Before Gay Marriage Ever Will. Rabid dogs with chainsaws for tails: Indeed a serious threat to marriage.

You know what I did last night? I got to see Eddie Izzard live! OMG OMG, so awesome!

If you don't know who Eddie Izzard is, you need to to. Run, don't walk, and rent/buy Dress to Kill, at least. Or read transcripts here, but it's funnier to see and hear.

My mom and brother went me. We went out to eat beforehand, which went pretty smoothly. (The forgot about our order for a while, but everything got cleared up.) I had an anxiety attack, but it was only a minor one. Made me very clingy though. Kept hanging on to my mom.

Mom decided to splurge and bought my brother and me stuff. We both got t-shirts, and he got a mug, while I got a souvenir program. It has an interview with Eddy, and it just further proved how intelligent he is. That's why he's so funny. Anyone can make a joke about airline food. It takes more skill to make jokes about Stonehenge, the Protestant Reformation, Greek mythology, the Latin language (oh, tekararogue, you should have been there), and the Stone Age, all while making it both hysterically funny and accessible to everyone.

Also bought another one of his DVDs, Unrepeatable. Need to watch it.

Your incredibly amusing link of the day: safenow.org: What to Do in an Emergency This website has helpful tips for what to do in the event of a terrorist attack, using bizarre, actual government signs.

Had a doctor's appointment today. I got a referral for a gynecologist, a new birth control prescription. I may actually be about to make progress on the endometriosis issue. (The endometriosis issue, by the way, is whether or not I have it.)

I'm a bit frustrated, because I really don't feel like I have any good options. Every possible solution has a "but" after it. I was really interested in depo provera. It's one injection that regulates your periods for three months. This would take care of my problem with birth control pills, which is always forgetting to take them. However, depo provera increases the risk of osteoporosis. I get so little calcium that I don't dare increase my chances. I really just want a damn hysterectomy, but the trouble is finding someone willing to do it. "But you won't be able to BABIEZ" is the spoken or unspoken objection. I don't want kids, but good luck trying to convince people of that. As if I needed reminding that female bodies are too often seen as little more than incubators. Luckily, my physician is cool.

When grocery shopping and spent too much money on stuff I don't need. In my defense, garlic stuffed olives! Mm, garlic stuffed olives. You either understand or you don't, I think.

You all must read John Dies at the End. How funny is it? I've read less than half a page, and I'm already recommending it, that's how funny it is.

Quotes (which I'll probably be updating as I read):

Now, that next spring you find in your garage a creature that looks like a cross-bred badger and anaconda. A badgerconda.



"As soon as you get home with your newly-headed ax, though, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year. He's also got a new head attached and it's wearing that unique expression of "you're the man who killed me last Spring" resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life.



"Dave? This is John. Your pimp says bring the cocaine shipment tonight, or he'll be forced to stick you. Meet him where we buried the Korean transvestite. The one without the goatee."

That was code. It meant "come to my place as soon as you can, it's important." Code, you know, in case the phone was bugged.

"John, it's three-"

"Oh, and don't forget, tomorrow is the day we kill the President."

*Click*

He was gone. That last part was code for, "stop and pick me up some cigarettes on the way."



"...I'm here to tell ya, immigration, it's like rats on a ship. America is the ship and allllll these rats are comin' on board, y'all. And you know what happens when a ship gets too many rats on board? It sinks. That's what."



I was wondering if I should warn the girl about John's coffee, which tasted like a cup of battery acid someone had pissed in and then cursed at for several hours



She looked at the mug distrustfully, as if to remind herself not to accidentally drink from it again, lest it betray her anew.

It's cracking me up.

I was thinking of posting something angsty, and whiny, and misery inducing. Then I discovered this. Dance with me, people, dance with me!

Posts are still too short. Darn.

P.S. You know, I've just realized that I don't have a "happy" icon. I have my "misfit/rage at the dominant paradigm/general use" icon, and my "sad" icon, and my "sort of silly/sort of weird" icon, but no happy one. What does that say about me?

From the High Priest of the Order of the Holy Llama (also known as tekararogue)

( 10 Reasons Why Gay Marriage is 'Wrong' )