I love me some Y: The Last Man. Even after what they did to 355. Woe.
So I've volunteered for this [link]
Naked... yay?
Drusilla ,'Conversations with Dead People'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I love me some Y: The Last Man. Even after what they did to 355. Woe.
So I've volunteered for this [link]
Naked... yay?
Woe.
Jars, I seriously could not go on to the next issue for several minutes after that. I thought I was ready a couple times, and then I couldn't do it.
Agreed. Hated to see 355 go.
That shit was positively Whedonesque.
I'm currently wary of anything in the shape of a retreat because last time we had one--OK, it was on-site, but a long meeting with an outside facilitator to deal with team-building issues--it turned out to be a bait and switch to get someone fired.
But I've yet to go on a work-related retreat that I didn't at least dislike. I don't like enforced team-building and the whole rah-rah cheerleading attitude where I'm supposed to get all glowy-eyed and embrace the mission. I actually like my current organization's mission and am happy to support it, but I don't want to embrace it as such, because this is my JOB, not my LIFE. So attempts to make me a good little team drone just anger me.
Oh I also love the name Clara but GF quickly axed it. It's so cute!
I just... I still don't understand it. I really, really though they deserved a happy ending. I was crying like a little girl.
I'm home today. I broke down and got a doctor's appointment for this afternoon. It's probably a virus, but I should at least have her listen to my lungs and rule out infection.
Ooh, I like Clara.
ION, I think I'm having anxiety dreams about my mom dying. Normally I don't even remember my dreams. But two nights ago I dreamed I was house-sitting by myself in my childhood home, waiting for my mom to return. She never did, and the house started to flood--water running across the floor and pouring from the ceiling. And last night I dreamed that Annabel and I were in my childhood home, just the two of us, and I was about to go away, flying somewhere, and leave her by herself. I was packing, and I took one of her stuffed animals. She protested, and I told her she didn't need Pablo when I was leaving her Pinky, Waffle, and Costco (yes, she really has a stuffed horse she calls Waffle and a lion named Costco--don't ask me why). I'm kinda appalled at my subconscious on that one...
I like Clara too. My imaginary girls names are Beatrix and Emily. And also in my imagination, DH doesn't get a vote because he doesn't have to push them out of his vagina.