Timelies all!

I didn't start planning my wedding until I was, you know, actually engaged. And G was as involved in the planning as I was.

Sheryl, you crazy radical!

Oh, lord. Watching The State Within (BBC America) and I have never had such an emotional reaction to an execution in film or TV. I'm in tears. And startled by it. I think it's not just that he's innocent, nor that he's in a country not his own being betrayed by his former employers, but something about the small dignities they gave him just for a few minutes--the earring, the nice shirt and jacket--the jacket which was removed as soon as he was strapped down for the lethal injection anyway, and the transparently manipulative fall of the medal to the ground as his hand slackened in death. I totally wasn't planning to cry today. Or to wish fictional characters to their fictional hells.

In unrelated news, the hand soap I most recently bought has a scent that I can't tolerate, so that's one whole purchase wasted. I so thought I'd sniffed it in the store. Need to work out where I got the good hand wash the last time.

Dude! I can buy refills right off that site! I love the net. If only it could close sarameg's window, it'd be perfect.

I hold on to the notion that there were actually two days in school when they separated the boys and the girls, and clearly I was sick for the other one.

I have a similar idea, that there were some girl-classes that I missed. One of them apparently involved pedicures. It was probably the week I was out sick and also missed that crucial week of pre-algebra. Damn it.

I have occasionally looked at wedding dresses and decided which one I thought was prettier. I don't think I've ever seriously imagined myself wearing one. I'm okay with being married, but getting married, ugh. The whole "Now go be the center of attention and declare your feelings publicly in front of friends and family" seems like the worst psychological torture you could inflict on me.

I love designing clothes. First year of university that was the wallpaper of my dorm room--dresses upon dresses upon blouses upon etcetera. A wedding dress was inevitable.

As for girl classes, I got them all! Or none. I went into single gender school at 11, and didn't get out until 18 at which point I went into single gender housing. And I'm from an almost single gender family. It makes things very confusing except, somehow, the minds of boys when it doesn't come to me. Those totally make sense.

Now I have to go clean my kitchen because that stupid Method site got to me. And made me order lots of cleaning products. I have a sickness.

Maybe I should dust too...

You can come here! I still haven't dusted the bedroom.

There was a really loud boom followed 8 minutes later by sirens from all the local firestations. I wonder what happened. Power didn't flicker, metro is still running.

Hey, is Ugly Betty new? I can't tell yet.

Kitchen now sparkles except for the floor (out of Swiffer thingummies), and the dishwasher is running.

I have a lot of mail to sort and file, and to attack the bathroom at some point this weekend--the theory being that not only will I want to clean less and less in the wake of the black belt test and starting a new job, but it'll be easier to have the place clean for my family next week. Everything has to at least sparkle/not be dusty/be vacuumed. And I have a hell of a Bed Bath and Beyond run to make--I only have the one queen bed sheet set, due to an ill-timed purge of all that is not soft.

ita, I have to skip so much in Natter to keep up, did I miss that you got a new job? Congratulations!

ita, were you watching State Within recorded, or is BBCA running it again? We caught the first two installments, but missed the third. That scene was very affecting. I think scripts for American tv tend to rescue the innocent at the last minute often enough to make us unused to that sort of injustice portrayed in a fictional piece. It made me cry.

Someone on my LJ friendslist has an icon of a cupcake. Having scrolled past it, oh, twenty or so times, I would knock over a herd of nuns to get a cupcake at this point.

Though today my sweet tooth was taken care of by the gothy Harry Potter-looking boy who works at the chocolate store. I am as a truffle in his hands. All gooey. (In my defense, Lee made me go in to the store. Because I had forgotten how sweetly delicious that boy was. And we're certain he's well over 18. Maybe even 21. Maybe.) I've got a crush and a marionberry truffle.