again, I say: asflksd:!hnv!!!1!
Aug. 20th, 2007 11:32 pmI have Sheppard-like elasticity! My roommate and I are the same height, but I'm the only one of us who can get things down from the top shelf without having to stand on anything. Roommate has no idea how I do this. I smirk and look knowing.
A thing most necessary to read:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dogeared has written a wonderful tag to Roommates as part of sheafrotherdon's very marvelous J/R belly festival. It's lovely and hot and I have exploded horribly all over the place.
My entry is here, in which Rodney comes back from a mission quite disgruntled and John nearly has a Rodney-induced aneurysm.
In other news: Today was a strange combination of insane productivity and complete lack of progress (or a disturbing presence of reversal). I got a ton of RL work done, which is good, but I also forgot to do a few things that are going to vex me until tomorrow. Fannishly, I wrote belly!porn but failed to finish my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
atlantisbasics fic (*pauses for self-flagellation*), and I also deleted 15 icons because it would be cruel to make people look at them. It's been a while since I've done such small work, I wonder if I'm losing my touch.
One of the few things not consigned to the "sucky icons" folder is this one. Not because it's a brilliant piece of technical work, but because one of my favorite refrigerator magnets inspired it.
:> Should go to bed because Finn has an early vet appointment (he loves the vet), but I will very likely stay up until an absurd hour, doing God knows what.
ETA: *has heart attack* I hate it when people call me at midnight, because my first thought is 1) someone is dead, or 2) there has been some catastrophe, as a result of which someone may soon be dead. This time it was just my sister, because she calls at bizarre hours, wanting to know about a recipe for chicken. Chicken? At midnight?
Come to think of it, I hate it when people call during the day too, because my first thought is 1) someone is dead, or 2) someone wants money.
A thing most necessary to read:
dogeared has written a wonderful tag to Roommates as part of sheafrotherdon's very marvelous J/R belly festival. It's lovely and hot and I have exploded horribly all over the place.My entry is here, in which Rodney comes back from a mission quite disgruntled and John nearly has a Rodney-induced aneurysm.
In other news: Today was a strange combination of insane productivity and complete lack of progress (or a disturbing presence of reversal). I got a ton of RL work done, which is good, but I also forgot to do a few things that are going to vex me until tomorrow. Fannishly, I wrote belly!porn but failed to finish my
atlantisbasics fic (*pauses for self-flagellation*), and I also deleted 15 icons because it would be cruel to make people look at them. It's been a while since I've done such small work, I wonder if I'm losing my touch.One of the few things not consigned to the "sucky icons" folder is this one. Not because it's a brilliant piece of technical work, but because one of my favorite refrigerator magnets inspired it.
:> Should go to bed because Finn has an early vet appointment (he loves the vet), but I will very likely stay up until an absurd hour, doing God knows what.
ETA: *has heart attack* I hate it when people call me at midnight, because my first thought is 1) someone is dead, or 2) there has been some catastrophe, as a result of which someone may soon be dead. This time it was just my sister, because she calls at bizarre hours, wanting to know about a recipe for chicken. Chicken? At midnight?
Come to think of it, I hate it when people call during the day too, because my first thought is 1) someone is dead, or 2) someone wants money.
