"The slandering of iconage is a sport--not an act of aggression or
bitterness, but an exercise. Why should these people not get taunted and
roasted? We treat our celebrities, regardless of artistic merit, like an
untouchable royal family, which causes most of us to act like dribbling
serfs despite the value of our individual lives." - Cintra Wilson
Aw crap. The one night I get home in time to watch MASH and it's the episode where Henry dies. TPTB of Stargate please note, this is how to do a death episode. Daniel didn't even get a montage.
Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, we know Dr Jackson's a junkie.
Struck out in heaven's high, hitting an all time low.
It's a far, far better thing I do today...This I mutter to myself as I crawl out of my bed, said bed being all warm and snuggly for once in its rotten life. Best case scenario, the worst of the cramps would hit during the night and I'd be up all night up chucking. No such luck - right when I'm off to work. Ever had a broken or sprained ankle. Imagine you have two, and somebody is twisting your ankle hard and the pain is so bad you throw up for 12 hours straight. That's how bad it is and I have to be IT girl today while everybody else moves upstairs. Why me, I ask again.
Edinburgh Castle is my mantra, for I once ran up the Royal Mile to see the Castle feeling like this, but that was a castle and it was Scotland, my spiritual home, and this...this isn't anything like that at all. I know, it's just a desk, but it was the biggest, nicest, newest desk I've ever had in my working life, near the windows and two partitions. I knew I'd finally made it. To lose it...it's hard. It was my quiet space, for writing in the mornings before work. It was my only quiet space. I sweat the small stuff, okay? Cause I have no say in the big picture, none at all. And if this morning isn't bad enough, there was no Smallville last night, due to America's Funniest Home Videos. Mutter, grumble, gripe. Looks like I'll be watching Law & Order on Ten tonight.