(no subject)

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

The positively divine lucifrix made me a CD of the Buffy musical episode! She rocks, I'm tellin' ya. It's got the Buffy font, and a miniature of the ad poster, and everything!

Wow . . . I've got the CD, and I just picked up the remaining car accessories that I needed (yes, in leopard, I admit this). Now I just need a full tank of gas and I'm ready to cruise!

Target is the coolest place on earth. Leopard car accessories, and I also got a hedgehog statue for my garden. You should see it . . . I mean, I really, *really*, REALLY needed it. It's so cute! And, you know, if you know anything about me, you know why I "needed" it.

Which reminds me . . . certain parties (who shall go nameless, but we all know who they are) haven't yet taken my quiz.

::: taps foot impatiently :::

I'm waiting.

If you go back about seven or eight entries in my journal, you'll find the link. C'mon. It's fun. Really. Then you can go to the www.friendstest.com site and design your own quiz, which I will then be obligated to take as well.

::: big, cheesy grin :::

It's not CLex fic, but it's good clean fun.

Oh -- and extra points if you can name the song that I'm listening to right now, just from the lyrics in "Current Music." Because I'm just a tiny bit evil. < g >

(no subject)

Gakked from lucifrix.

I'm a WHAT? Oh, well . . . at least it's acknowledged how wondrous am I. ;) Lack of ego isn't one of my little mental deficiencies, is it?

Tee-hee.

Oh, boy. I just had a really crazy idea for a fic. If this were a bunny, it would have fur in psychedelic stripes. And polka dots. And would be carrying a banjo.

Villains fear me. Heroes envy me. Redheaded Firecracker is... The Wondrous Alien

(no subject)

How embarrassing. I turn into a total sixteen-year-old girl when licorice-eating cute guy talks to me. Of course, that's partly because of that adorable blush of his, and the fact that he's got . . . sigh! great hands. God, the hands alone are totally hot, even if he wasn't a total cutie.

And I want to lick the sun-freckles on the back of his neck.

Wibble.

Damn. And again, damn. ::: whining ::: Why does he have to be a student?

It could be worse. He *could* be one of my student workers. Now that would *really* suck. But it doesn't matter, because I have an ironclad rule against dating anyone that I meet through work. It falls under the "Don't Shit Where You Eat" policy.

Although . . . if I ran into LECG at a bar somewhere, some night . . . he's mine.

He just doesn't know it yet . . . poor shy hottie that he is.

It would probably be a step in the right direction if I could remember his damn name.

God, he's so fucking cute. No clothes sense, though. Oh, well . . . that green plaid shirt only has to look good once it lands on my bedroom floor.

Ooh, I finally got a chance to notice his eyes. All twinkly. I have the hugest crush on this guy -- I feel like I'm back in junior high. Nice smile, too. I'm such a dork right now. He keeps asking me questions about stuff I'm supposed to know about, and I keep going, "Duhhh . . . ."

I mean, really. How important is it to be able to access online journals when you have shoulders like *that*?

I suppose I could just pass it off as having a blond moment. I have enough blond streaks in my hair to get away with it, this month. < bg >

Ooh, looky. I just found out, it's not my fault. The web page was glitching up a storm.

And if I'd had a few more brain cells that weren't preoccupied with wild monkey sex thoughts . . . I would've figured that out. Then I would've been, like, all totally smart and stuff. ::: flips hair ::: "Like, yeah!"

Shudder. I've got to get hold of myself. Rampaging hormones are no excuse for non-specific idiocy.