*deep healing breath*

Repeat after me:

I will not get sucked in to stupid LJ melodrama
I can do better than that anyway
Stooping to other people's immaturity is not worth my time.

Now then, where were we?

---

Saw a double feature of Kill Bill vols. 1 and 2 last night. Everything everyone has been saying is true-- the first one may be really good, but the second one is phenomenal. Oh yeah, and David Carradine looks eeerily like Buzz Alexander, a former professor of mine and the head of PCAP. The resemblance was actually pretty creepy.

I was planning on finally going into the New Job(tm) for a decent chunk of today, but realized that I haven't so much looked at the training manual thingy yet, so rather than show up and be totally useless I'll spend the next few hours reading through it and then go in for a short day. This will still work out ok-- I'm picking up a ton of last-minute hours at the law library this week, so I shouldn't be wanting too much for money, and I think training probably works better in shortish chunks anyway.

Um. Still kind of fuming from the events of last night. If I can't write about that here--and I know that I really, really shouldn't--then I guess there's not all that much to say at the moment.

A (very) short list of things that make me happy

This link.

This paragraph:

There are four simple ways for the observant to tell Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar apart: first, Mr. Vandemar is two and a half heads taller than Mr. Croup; second, Mr. Croup has eyes of a faded china blue, while Mr. Vandemar's eyes are brown; third, while Mr. Vandemar fashioned the rings he wears on his right hand out of the skulls of four ravens, Mr. Croup has no obvious jewelery; fourth, Mr. Croup likes words, while Mr. Vandemar is always hungry. Also, they look nothing at all alike.
--Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere

This poem:

I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn wtih pity, - let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.
--Edna St. Vincent Millay

And this song.

Also, kittens. And my roommate, who will cheerfully listen to me bitch about boys while eating obscene amounts of ice cream. And ice cream. And Sports Night.

And lord knows I do love Communism.

So I'm sitting at Sam's place, bored because he and Aubs stayed up until 8:30 this morning and thus he is exhausted and is now unconscious behind me. I'm talking on AIM to Aubs, who is equally bored at work, and she suggests we play the add-two-words game. The add-two-words game is played thusly: one person comes up with the first two words of a story, then the next person adds two more, and so on. This is what we came up with:

The truck drove rapidly past the black and orange moose. It was carrying nineteen toasters, red balloons, and furry green leftovers. Oddly, the truck's windshield had a long phallic-looking crack running diagonally across it. The driver rather liked watching the moose as it lumbered stupidly along the expressway, chewing tobacco. The moose liked him immensely because he farmed asparagus and asparagus is one of the most delicious vegetables EVER. Moose love asparagus more than I love communism, and because of the great robot wars, asparagus has certain powers. For example: they glow fuschia when danger is clear and puce when marshmallows are imminent. They also vibrate when they sense the upheaval of polite society. The best thing about asparagus is the way they taste. Or something.

*bows*