November 10th, 2002

Nescafe rabbit

Sean Connery, and other trivia....

Many critics and fans alike have said that the quality of his acting has only improved with age. Certainly his personal appeal has. In 1989, at almost 60 years of age he was voted People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive." When advised of the award, Sean seemed to be unaffected as he replied, "Well there aren't many sexy dead men, are there." (Credits)
I thought that was so freakin' funny.

Ryken's eating Cheesy Poofs with chopsticks. Stale Cheesy Poofs. This is the man who, until he came to live with us, swore he would never be able to use chopsticks. And now he's eating Cheesy Poofs with them.

Online mage: As much fun as ever, and to boot...we all four voted for each other for the RP point at the end.

Watching The Crow. Thinking about going to bed early, getting up early, going studying, etc. Because then I could do things, and spend the evening doing everything I forgot to do. I hate medical school. Monday and Tuesday, then I can take a night off. All the way off. And then I can bury myself in keeping up with all these fucking notes again. I'm so overwhelmed.

I can't wait for Christmas break.
  • Current Music
    The Crow in the background
Nescafe rabbit

(no subject)

Ah, angel. I'm so sorry...I wish I could say things so that they didn't hurt you. I wish I...
I wish, I wish, I wish.

Collapse )
To where the prospect terminates -- thee only.
You've been my anchor and my angel, my love and my life. You've been everything to me - everything that is good, everything that is right, everything that gives me hope for the future and lets me let go of my past.
You've held me when I cried. You've loved me and laughed with me, you've been there no matter what I do, no matter what happens to me. I've screamed at you - you've taken it. I've accused you and slighted you, spurned you and wounded you - and you have come back to hold me, knowing that I hurt you because I trust you more than life.

I wish I didn't. I wish I wouldn't. I wish, I wish, I wish. I wish I lived up to the impossible standards of perfection I demand that I achieve. I wish that I were half as giving and forgiving as you have been to me. I wish...I wish I could hold the perfect moments in my hands for eternity, hold them up to a living sun and send crystal reflections of light all around forever.
I wish...if everyone in the world had someone one-tenth as perfect for them as you are for me, there would be no more hurt anywhere. I wish - I hope- I try - to be something near to that...
Which is why, when I fail, it hurts so much. And even more when, failing, I watch you crumple and weep, want to stop my words...but they beat and they press and they rage against my mind. And I say them. And I hate myself for it.

I want to lift you up, to bear you even higher, angel. I want my words to be nothing but a reflection of the light you have brought to my life. I want my words to be hope and love and life...and I want them to inspire you and to fill your dreams, echo through your days. I want you to know, to never doubt, that I love you as you are, that I love everything that you have been and will become, that every thing you say and do is precious to me.

Infinitely precious. Infinitely vital. The love that we have is amber and diamond, the heart of an unopened rose. And I wish that somehow, some way, I could keep this mortal world of cares and suffering from drawing its sullied hands across those reflections. I wish somehow...somehow I could keep it precious, sheltered, away from all that is rough and harsh and painful...
But I know I can't. And I know that the very reason I want to protect it is the thing that ties us together: because love is precious, and love is real, and love is stronger than this filthy world. You knew me when you married me, and you didn't hesitate. You knew - I knew - that there would be pain, that laughter and tears alike are bound in the web of our hearts.

And I want the whole godsdamned world, with its filth and its pain and the shit of everyday existence - this world of confusion and misdirection and questions without answers - I want this world to know:
I love you. I believe in you and the wonder of you. I make mistakes - we both do - we do and we will. But I love you and I have faith in you.
And I always will.
  • Current Music
    The Crow
Nescafe rabbit

Things to think about:

We drive past a store every day on the way to church. It's one of many stores we pass - but this particular one, a quilting store, has a sign out front: "Make a sewer's dream come true - Buy her a Bernina"
And every time I pass it, I misread the blasted thing and have visions of toilet bowls and lead pipes receiving gift-wrapped boxes. Whatever a Bernina is. Mom?

Wendy's .
Nice place. Worked there for a couple of years. But for some reason, Wendy's is involved in a conspiracy to ensure that I have no cheese on my cheeseburgers. In fact, it seems to be a conspiracy to ensure that I have no dairy products whatsoever. The last three times I've been to Wendy's, I have ordered the same thing - a single combo (#1) with cheese, substitute a sour cream and chive baked potato for the fries. The following:
  • Time 1: I got the potato just fine. No cheese on the cheeseburger.

  • Time 2: Forgot to tell Matt to get a potato instead of fries. He got caught up in remembering "no tomato, no onion, no mustard" and neglected to order cheese.

  • Time 3: No cheese on the cheeseburger, after I heard Matt order it and saw the guy ring it up. No butter or sour cream with the baked potato. "Chives on the side" involved enough chives to season a Thanksgiving turkey.

Am I really that picky?
We're going to Wendy's again today, on the way to drop me off at school to study. I intend to order the same thing. We'll see what happens.
  • Current Music
    Nothing; I forgot the CD wallet
Nescafe rabbit

Mom comes through:

A Bernina is a very nice sewing machine - probably comparable to a Viking which your grandmother had. I think it's Scandinavian made.
Wendy's got my order right. Except I wish I could have butter too.
There are only 15 glass slides and a few dozen Kodachromes on the exam. And two stations of enzymes, and 16 gross specimens.
Really gross.
Andy: "Hey, look! This uterus resembles a pork chop!"

And I just have to type up notes on body fluids and everything he might ask questions on in the book.
Lab exam average is 85%. I should be just fine. Not that that means I won't panic tomorrow, but oh, well.

I'm going to make it. I'm going to make it. I'm going to make it.
Angel: I love you.
  • Current Music
    Computer noises. Too quiet in here.