silveryscrape (silveryscrape) wrote,

Ugh, livejournal, I'm so discombobulated. What day is it? Am I awake? When did I sleep last? What is there to do at 4.30 a.m., when the rest of the world is unconscious? Most importantly, though: where can I find some good Flanigan/Hewlett rps?? So many questions, but really, my needs are simple. A wee bit of cognitive reorientation and some well-written slash, and I will be fine.

See, I'm just not sure what to do at any given juncture any more. Yesterday... morning? --yes, I got home, and wasn't sure if I should have a nice relaxing glass of wine, because it was the end of my day, or a cup of coffee, because it was dawn and the birds were singing. So I had both, which was kind of nasty, and then when I woke up I did it again, because it was my morning, but the day was ending. Blargh!! And seriously, it sucks when you develop a sudden need to take a relaxing stroll outside in the fresh air, and realize it is the motherloving middle of the night and the only people who walk are gangsters, drunks, and the undead.

But whatever, on to the science: according to my statistical analysis of the jeans washing poll of a few days ago, which I would link if I had in fact slept at all last night and had the energy, there are only two participants on my friendslist who are not dirty filthy beasts. Congratulations, copracat and chrismm! I used to wash my jeans every time, too, but then I got lazy. Also, I will be sad if these levis I'm wearing right now ever wear out, because they are my faves. I figure the grime will help them retain some structure. But, ten thumbsup to you both! It's good to have ideals!

Stanford has called me for an interview for a job in their bmt unit, and my recruiter is putting together a contract packet for UCSF, so things are complicating nicely on the work front. On the fun front, withdiamonds and frausorge and I are in negotiations re: Disney/CA, so that's on the horizon, and this weekend, unless I experience a complete break, frausorge has agreed to watch some SGA with me! I look forward to telling her, see there, that! That thing right there, that thing Flanigan is doing with his face -- that's acting. Whee!

As for Chris and JC and Justin, well.

The hard thing was knowing what to do. At first they tried to keep everything equal, everybody with a piece of the pie, so to speak, but of course that didn't work out. Three guys with jobs in the industry ("Shut up," Chris said, although no one had said a word) could hardly sync up their schedules that well, and what, nobody should get freaky if everybody couldn't? They tried to spend the night as often as possible in the same bed, but the potential for fuckups and hurt feelings and outright fights was huge ("Like we need the encouragement," Justin said, because for a while there he couldn't even kiss JC without Chris getting butthurt and sharptongued. JC tended to get quieter and quieter, even if Chris and Justin were just wrestling. And of course Justin thought every plan ought to include him). It was a tough period.

It's not like they knew anyone they could ask. Most people had multiple fuck-buddies, and of course there was the whole orgy thing that was popular for a while there, but nobody was trying to do it for real, not like them.

("Winging it," JC said drowsily, taking the sweet hit Chris offered him, mouth to mouth, "but this is worth it, so, so --" and Justin made a hungry sound, clear despite the Blackberry's tiny speaker.)

The phone bills were astronomical, that first year.

[/writer's notes]

Well, sun's up. Goodnight?

P.s., this made me snort like goat. Space is one cold muthafucka!
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