Feb. 17th, 2012

kittydesade: (set 'em up)
Deutsch )

Gaeilge )

Well that was a spectacular adventure in losing most of a post and at least one language. Crap.

Spent the better part of last night writing fanfic to kickstart my writing brain into gear and ogling young Clayne Crawford. Who apparently is originally named "Joey." Which is not at all a badass hitter name, and there was much giggling. Also, Clayne Crawford has a very broad chest. I mean, really. I could make a nest inside of this man's ribcage, he is broad. But also rather cute in a babyfaced sproingy-curled way. Also, one of the things we saw him in, he was playing a particularly adorable, sensible young guitar player. SOLD. Especially since going by his hands he actually knows how to play guitar. Guitar skills add +10 points to hotness.

There is a distressing lack of Robert Carlyle in the sneak peaks for next week's Once Upon A Time. Instead apparently we get treated to an hour of David's complete and utter failure to be a decent human being. I believe the morally upright or whatever thing to do if you don't want to be in your marriage anymore, amnesiac or not, is to tell your wife. Not carry on an affair and keep saying I'll tell her I promise just come out with me and have this picnic kiss me in the public square why do I even bother anymore. I hate that love story. The one in fairy tale land is marginally more palatable because he is actually being coerced to it, and he leaves her before the wedding anyway. Apparently when David/James/whoever lost his memories he also lost any and all common fucking sense.

Ugh. Also I'm grumpy because somehow I managed to set the wrong alarm. The way our alarm clock works is we have one clock with two alarm settings, and since the boy works third shift and I work first, I have one set to wake me up in the wee hours and he has one set to wake him up for dinner and hanging out with me in the evenings. Only the buttons are right next to each other so I ended up setting the evening alarm and being woken up by a 20 pound cat walking all over me demanding his breakfast. An hour late. Crap. So now my whole morning is throw off and I have a grumpy sense of not having done everything.

But maybe I can get some writing done? I hope? At least get something finished, and thus get some momentum up and get back on track?

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