A Safe Space for Moogles

Post-Mythbusters season opener:

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. *bounces around the room* :DDDDDD

That is all.

...which, I suppose, is a good thing. There seems to be a lot of hate directed toward April Fool's these days. At least on my flist.

The bug guy sprayed the hell out of our house, but a year and a half of the Recurring Bedbug Nightmare has made my parents even more neurotic than me. Along with washing everything in hot water (I hope my blankets get done soon, or I am going to be one cold moogle), Mom has gotten me new bedding, which is nice, and informed me that I have to bag up all my yarn and store it in the garage indefinitely, which sucks. My plans for an Etsy store are officially on hold, and (lj)ravynfyre's Magnus plushies are going to experience a Significant Delay. Mom says she's willing to buy me more yarn, but that's still a lot of projects - plans - hopes going Away for me. I'm kind of really bummed out by this.

She was very apologetic and told me over and over that I wasn't being punished, which of course only made me had to work harder not to start crying in front of her. Though the fact that I've been forgetting to take my meds probably accounts for some of that. Sleeping in the basement messes with my routine.

And just to add icing on the cake, oh my god, they're making the Anita Blake books into a TV series. I don't usually bitch about this, but Anita Blake broke my heart years ago and it's never quite healed. I dread to think what a bunch of executives will do to it. They're apparently aiming for a core audience of men 18-34, which is never a good sign, because most TV execs seem to think that 18-34-year-old men are a bunch of vacuous, self-absorbed fatheads.* About the only people they have a lower opinion of are women 18-34.

*Whether or not this is accurate is probably beside the point.

I now know why I can't stand reality TV. Not because of some enlightened sense of taste and desire for quality entertainment, as I thought - but because there's always a winner and a loser, and I always identify with the loser.

Why am I crying over a failure on Project Runway? Don't I have enough of my own?

EDIT: I feel better now. Strawberries and whipped cream fixes a lot of things.

I've misplaced my muse, so these are going to be a series of disjointed paragraphs.

So, I just applied to the volunteer program at the local animal shelter. Apparently they need people to Design Stuff too, so we'll see how that goes. ...It probably defeats the purpose of the whole thing (from my parents' POV) if I deliberately requested jobs that don't deal excessively with the Public. Ah well - you can take the hermit out of the cave, but you can't take the cave out of the hermit. Especially if the cave has Internet access.

School so far is pretty much more of the same. I've got Production I (the art of Printing Shit), Production II (package design - we played with templates and markers today, and I made a little box shaped like a Triadhouse*), and 3D modeling, which would be cool if the prof-what-I'm-not-too-fond-of would shut up and let me play. I'm told there will be more playing tomorrow. We're to make a cartoon head. I'll probably end up doing Ravage or something like that. (Speaking of which, no, self, you are not allowed to crochet a Ravage for display at Botcon. You have too much else to do and you'd be devastated** if you didn't get it done in time. Besides, you already promised Poptart you'd do a bomb.)


ALSO. Apparently "Ghost Hunters" is coming to the base to do a series on a couple of Allegedly Haunted places. My question is, isn't that something that we, as people who live here, should have been told when we moved in!? I mean, there's got to be some sort of full-disclosure clause when it comes to the restless dead. (I know they're probably harmless, but I just don't do well with ghosts. It's a weakness.)

Today my mom took me through the process of making french toast, presumably so I won't starve when I move out and can't afford Chinese. It turned out pretty good, so yay me.

In completely unrelated news, does anyone else remember David the Gnome? I used to watch this all the time as a kid, but people I described it to looked at me like I was nuts. I was starting to think I'd made it up.

Now that the non-fandom stuff's out of the way, I really need to work faster on my springkink prompts, but I've got a touch of the writer's block: namely, Rude and Tifa just refuse to get laid. *grumble*



*One of the girls got a bit huffy about the whole thing - said something about paying thousands of dollars to go to college just to play with markers and glue. "I must be lucky," I said, "to be six years old on the inside." 'Cause seriously, that was just fun. And to think I was sure I'd hate this class.

**Ha ha.

My job interview was rescheduled for Thursday, so I made it through a few more episodes of Power Rangers today. Am currently swinging around the Sword of Porn from this summer and posing like a ninny. *is Purple Porn Ranger, tadah!*

( A few observations, taken from episodes 1-12. )