pop! goes the weasel

In an anti-climactic moment of computer game bliss, I finished the orginal aHppyland this afternoon.

Go me.

My father and the brat are arriving tonight. This is me, breathless with anticipation: -_-

My brain has latched on to some pairings that should not, could not, EVER be written and insisted that it is my responsibility to write them, lest the Stargate fandom suffer a single minute longer without badfic.

*tiptoes back to email account to try to make some progress in the 27 unread messages. Half of them are from gvambat, the other half are copies of the emails I sent her.

And round and round and round it goes.

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, pleased to put a penny in the old man's hat. If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do, and if you haven't got a ha'penny then God bless you.

Maintaining my spoiler-virginity is much more difficult than maintaining my actual virginity ever was. Back when, you know, I was a virgin.

I'm ... bored, sort of. Not really the right word, but close enough.