Do not mess with the emo punkness.

I was walking through the living room where my father of all people was glued to Dancing with the Stars, and the Fat One was dancing to “Girlfriend” by Avril Lavigne.

And they changed the lyric to “Hell yeah, I’m the ever-loving princess.”




It is really not ever-loving princess.

Ah! Alan icon!!! Perfect lead in to discuss the other things I wanted to discuss!!!

Une, SWEENEY TODD TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!! *is dead* *just realized the irony of that* *laughs self silly* And I shall buy it and be able to fastforward through the awkward pants issues, and therefore my love for Teh Rickman will remain intact!!! Hah!!!

Deux, Masterpiece Theater is wrapping up the Complete Jane Austen with my absolutley favorite Austen EVER OMG, Sense and Sensibility, in a three-part adaptation. The first one was last night, and I have several thoughts.

1.) How do I know David Morrissey? I feel as though I know his name, but IMDB turns up nothing the The Other Boleyn Girl, during which I did admittedly think, “Huh, Duke of Norfolk was kind of hot.”

2.) David Morrissey? Not so hot. So apparently I just have a thing for the Duke of Norfolk. *ponders this* Eh. It’s better than St. Thomas More, I guess. Does Norfolk have a law school???

3.) Whomever this little bitch is that’s playing Marianne? YOU SUCK and I DON’T LIKE YOU. BRING BACK KATE!!! She’s whiny and not passionate or funny or anything that Kate was in what has become known as the “real” version.

4.) Okay, you know how I’ve spent hours and countless whatever-is-the-internet-equivalent-of-pages defending the union of Col. Brandon and Marianne and yelling about how Marianne’s a stupid whore who doesnt know what she’s got going? Um. Yeah. Apparently? I just ship Alan Rickman and the 17-year-old. Because these two? Meh. Take ’em or leave ’em.


6.) OMG MY DAD LIKES THIS!!! Like, he asked if it was continuing next week! And when we suggested that perhaps this isn’t up to his standards of manliness because no one is owning a mill or wearing sequins and a smile hoping to shore up their lost careers, he just scoffed.

And that? Made my week. 😀

We shall be married in the morning!!!

We watched Enchanted last night, and omg, the 5-year-old in me was incredibly thrilled, and the 20-year-old thought it was FREAKING HILARIOUS. So, so funny.



And there was Irish coffee. Which always makes things very good.

Today I went to Mass, out to coffee, watched like five hours of The Gilmore Girls, two hours of History of Britain (up to 1688—whoo!!!), and now I’m really hungry and headachy.

This morning at the end of Mass was the whole nomination process for the parish committees, when members had the option of writing the name of the person they wanted nominated on a card. And let me tell you, it was not an appropriate time for Colleen, Mary, and I to be sitting together.

Ultimately we decided that “Cookie Monster” should win out for Parish Council, but “Chuck E. Cheese” put up a good show, as well as the underdog favorite, “yo momma”.

Oh, we’re going to hell.

I am NOT a lush.

But I am very tired. And covered in bruises that have shown up since yesterday.

And I would like to apologize for this entire week being kind of one big moving post like, “And today I hung up a poster! Cheer for me!!!” which is really boring unless you’re the one actually hanging said poster. So sorry. Maybe next we’ll talk about some more interesting things. Like how I’m going to have to build a career on but never actually visit the United Kingdom, or Easter, which was like a week ago but I never actually discussed. Huh. Maybe not.

Maybe I’ll just post pictures of the new room??? How would that be??

In the meantime, I give you the funniest Lolcat I’ve seen in awhile. I look at this cat? And just want to laugh out loud.

Humorous Pictures
see more crazy cat pics

*Is dead*

48-hour plan was completed in just 49 hours, which is pretty damn good given that I completely ignored any and all of the actual work involved in said 48-hour plan.

It’s finished save for three pictures and a bulletin board, which will be done tomorrow because apparently the wall screw is just WAY too involved to be done hours before 10:00, but whatever.

And now I’m exhausted and feeling sick (Phantom Baby did not pick a good day to appear), and I’m going to bed.

Snaps for me.

(And my mom, who did most of the work.)

Dare I say it? I may go back to being the most normal one in the family tomorrow!!!

Maybe. Those pictures aren’t up yet.

In flux.

Okay. 48 hour plan is in place. 48 plan was in shambles earlier this morning when we discoveredt hat we neglected to realize that there IS NO INTERNET IN THE FREAKING KITCHEN WHERE THE COMPUTER IS GOING!!!!! Then the 48 hour plan was back on when we realized we just needed an adapter. And then the 48-hour plan as back off when we realized the ELECTRONICS DO NOT WORK MUST MAKE BROWNIES.

So I made brownies. And then almost finished the room.

And the wallpaper? I love. So much more than I will *ever* love my husband.

I can’t wait to finally move in.

Ooh, also??? It looks like Borders and Best Buy had a love child that threw up all over. What with all the books and DVD sets and all.

Ooh, and also squared??? If I lent you David Starkey’s Six Wives will you please let me know? Because I can’t find it, and I don’t know where I could have put a 750-page Tudor tome.

(Oh, who am I kidding. I could have put it like sixteen different places with all my other 750-page Tudor tomes.)

(I still want to know about it though.)

(I’m really tired and haven’t eaten today and am going to go to bed now, mmkay???)

They should have thought about this before comingling their crazy obsessive genes.

There is now a mover coming tomorrow, and wallpaper has been bought, and bookshelves have been moved, and I have a 48 hour plan to transform the den into my new bedroom and dammit, I will not be stopped by school or work or any other obligations I may have had this week!!!

My mother and her Ritter genes are now thoroughly disgusted with me, as they would prefer to wait and talk about it at least until after the presidential election. The one in 2012.

(I kid. She’s being awesome.)

(But she is a little sick of me.)

(Okay. A lot sick.)

This is why I wouldn’t actually be a good lawyer.

Oh dudes! I cannot wait. Boston legal goes to the Supreme Court!!! Like, the real one! Not the lame-ass one I get to vote for next Tuesday.

(Side Note: Wisconsin sucks.)

Shockingly, I know, the real justices didn’t want to appear (BOO!!! POOR FORM!!!) so they went with look-alikes. Which is kind of amusing in and of itself.

But if I were on the Supreme Court? I would be the annoying one going, “OMG you guys, we, like, HAVE to do it!!! We have lifetime appointments, we can afford to look a little foolish! DAMMIT I WANT TO MEET WILLIAM SHATNER YOU WILL NOT RUIN THIS FOR ME, SOUTER!!!”

(You know Souter would be the stick-in-the-mud who wouldn’t want to do it. I’ll bet Scalia was all over it.)

And then Roberts would probably just be like, “My God, I did not sell my soul to the devil to work with this bitch. Seriously. Who appointed you?”

Can’t wait for April!!!!

Far fewer cogs.

Things may actually be creeping forward re: Sister Smoke-Out 2008.

I know, right?

I finally got my parents to figure out where all the furniture was going, because I, quite logically, realized that if we know exactly what rooms need to be cleaned out, there will be far fewer rooms for me to facilitate.

(Side Note: Daddy dragged me up to the attic a few nights ago, in order to tell me what he wanted done. Which mostly consisted of “straightening up”. Which makes no sense. And everything I was supposed to straighten? Was covered in bugs. Um. Yeah. No. So I haul myself back up there yesterday, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to facilitate. Hah. No. I grouped the holidays together, and then kind of figured that since NOTHING WAS GOING UP HERE ANYWAYS, Daddy probably would think it was clean. Mom agreed, incidentally. And let me tell you, for a man who didn’t notice when his entire bedroom was changed for an entire week? He caught on to my less-than-complete “straightening” job in like two minutes. Yeah. That was a pointless story.)

Okay. Anyway. Before, there was this whole huge thing where for some reason both attics and the basement had to be cleaned, and my parent’s room, and the hallway for some reason that I haven’t figure out because the computer can’t go both places, but whatever, because the furniture all had to be moved to undisclosed locations. Now, the huge sofa that, excuse me, wasn’t making it upstairs anyway is just being tossed (*squee*), half the furniture is going to Colleen’s new larger room, and the other half is going to become a “hearth room” in the kitchen.

Except, you know, lacking a hearth.

But I’m thrilled about this, because our kitchen is kind of just a shit hole where people pile crap and then yell at me when I repile the crap someplace else where no one will see it. And the kitchen table is a very large receptacle for this crap. And now it will be gone. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

So now really the only cog is cleaning out the homeschooling stuff, which Mommy Dearest has promised to do soon. And then I can wallpaper and move the stuff. *squee*

And there will be a ceiling fan estimate next week sometime. YAY!!!

But then yesterday Mom came up with an issue. Apparently, her entire dating/courtship/engagement took place on her parents’ couch in the family room. And now we won’t have a family room! OR a a couch!!! And where for the love of God will we court!?!?!?!

After I stopped laughing, I hastened to assure my mother that this wouldn’t be that big of an issue, because, um, has she met me? And she’s all, Oh, but you might find someone tomorrow!!! And I’m all, yeah, but I wouldn’t want to bring them back here the day after!!!

And then she was all, “But wait! What about like after Easter dinner? You’re not going to send him home when the rest of the family leaves!”

Um. Yeah. After Easter dinner, I’m bloated, drunk, and going to be really pissed that I have to go to school the next day. He’ll be lucky if I let him come at all and don’t yell, “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE I HAVE TO BE IN HISTORY IN TEN HOURS AND DAYTON IN 48 I LOVE YOU BUT LEAVE THE THE HELL ALONE!!!”

And we wonder why I’m single.

No allowing for taste.

I read Pattie Boyd’s autobiography this morning (Colleen read most of it a month ago, but checked out after George Harrison- that’s really all she was interested in.) and wow, she was really stupid.

And Eric Clapton was an alcoholic sociopath. Apparently.

So now I have added to my life’s goals to stay away from creative types with access to lots and lots of e, because damn, that will screw you up.