The trouble was, they left her too much alone...

 I watched the season premiere of Being Human on the Syfy Channel Monday night, hoping I'd get a little more into than I did the first season.

I didn't. 

I mean, I'll probably still watch it on occasion like I did before, but I feel like something is stopping me from being able to enjoy the characters as much as I'd like to. The best part about watching a show is feeling like you're somehow connected to a character in one way or another, that you've been in their shoes at one point--maybe not about being a werewolf or vampire or any other class of supernatural being, but you know, in some way, and can relate--but I'm just not feeling it, from anyone on the show. 

What's weird though is that the show that came on after it, Lost Girl--I...actually kind of dug it.  I think it's because it seemed  like one of those urban fantasy novels where some tattooed witch has a scythe in one hand and a jutted out, awkwardly-posed hip under the other on the cover. The acting was nothing stellar, but the story was pretty layered-  A Succubus struggles to eke out an existence from day to day not knowing who she is or where she came from, and unwittingly stumbles upon the world of the Fey, both light and dark, and is forced to choose a side--looks like it could be cheesetastic fun. Plus there was some smoking hot kissing and the character's main power is banging. Something I can definitely get behind.

Okay.

What does it say about you when your seven-year-old decides she can't stand living with you and makes the choice to live with her grandparents instead?

my sweet baboo and I were friends (I say were because they were really the baboo's friends to begin with, and after this, I don't even want to claim to know them) with a couple who are around out age (late twenties) and have three daughters. One of these daughters is from a relationship the wife had before she met her present husband. She was fairly young when she had her daughter and her husband came in when the kid was just a baby and all that was just gravy. They were young and inexperienced, but they muddled through, managing to aquire two new children on the way. Thing is, as they made way for these two new babies, they started to neglect the oldest one. Not necessarily in a material way, I mean, she's always been clothed and fed when I've been around, but she's also usually getting screamed at when I see her.

I honestly can't speak to their home life when I'm not around, but even if it's not ideal, doesn't it make more sense to put on a good front when others are around? Because this is not something they do. The girls come out, we say hello and talk and play with them, (and by we I mean anyone that comes over, not their parents) and before anything has happened other than the excited rambling of the oldest, the screaming starts.  "Get out of their face!" they yell, "Denise doesn't want to talk to you right now!"( which is never true, I always want to talk to her)  " Why isn't your sister wearing her pants? I told you go, take care of your sister!" "Go to your room!" This may all sound fairly regular to some people, but let me tell you, when a kid starts to ask a simple question, a question it would take two seconds to answer and you respond with, "Get out of my face!" It's not normal and it's not cool.  I've seen her mom sigh impatiently and tell her, "Ugh, just go to your room, I don't even want to look at you right now," apropos of nothing, only to watch the little girl respond with a quiet, "really?" and look devastated.

Simple declarations of love from the girl are answered with a 'yeah, yeah', and her mom answers her questions with responses loaded with sarcasm.  It's just the worst,  and I've been over there many times and found myself in ridiculously awkward situations that the parents have started by screaming in a little girl's face. One of my friends went over to their house once and the oldest got sent to her room while the others got to stay, and her mom just said, 'well at least your real daughters are still out here,' which is deplorable.

I just got news from a friend that the oldest doesn't live with them anymore. She finally started lashing out, telling them she hated them and asking them why they were always so mean to her. I hope they gave her an honest answer. 'Because we are young, petty, and irresponsible,' I hope they said. 'Because there's something really fucked up in our marriage, but we are unstable and think it's okay to take it out on you.'  Jesus Christ, guys. She's just a baby. She's your baby. I know kids can be a handful, I'm not blind or stupid. But there are some things you just don't do, and some ways you just don't act. This is one of them. I wish that baby girl all the luck in the world, and hopes that either her parents get a fucking clue, or that she never has to see them again. 

Oh Snap. 

 I really just don't see myself getting tired of posting this stuff like, ever. So, yeah. Settle in.

Right.

So, I know how we're all jankin' on Amazon right now because of that whole price checker app thing, and how it's sucking hard for brick and mortar stores, and believe me, my feelings about that (uncool, Amazon. Uncool.) haven't changed, but let me tell you what just happened.

My dad sent me the delivery confirmation emails for presents that he had coming to my husband. When I checked the date on them, it showed that they were supposed to have been delivered on Monday, and I most certainly did not receive any packages on Monday. I started to freak out a little, thinking about some crazy jackass just walking up to my house and taking stuff off my front porch, but then I calmed down and decided to call the delivery service to see what could be done, if anything. It's not really their responsibility if somebody steals something off your porch, right?

Anyway, I talked to the delivery service---Lasership, I think it was called (not a bad name, actually) and the person on the phone was very nice. She conferenced me in with a rep from Amazon who, after getting all the details from the Lasership person, immediately said, 'I'm so sorry your package was lost, if you can give me some information, I can see about getting you replacements for what you lost.'

I was in shock. I've never actually lost a package before so I don't know if this is standard procedure or anything, but the guy immediately believed me, didn't ask any questions as to whether or not I lived in sketchy neighborhood, didn't ask if I'd checked the area around my house---anything. He just calmly and politely got all my information and then told me that he'd be sending a replacement shipment that would get there the next day. He told me that one of the purchases had been a marketplace purchase and therefore they couldn't ensure that the object would still be in stock from that particular store, but offered me a Amazon gift card in the same amount as the marketplace gift. Maybe I'm making too much out of this, maybe people do this stuff all the time and it's no big deal, but to have someone help me so thoroughly in the middle of a Christmas crisis just blew my mind. It's definitely a load off my shoulders--I didn't want to have to tell my sweet baboo that he was out SOL with his presents because of either a crazy hobo stealing our shit, or a delivery snafu.

So yeah, good lookin' out, Amazon.

Your price checker app still sucks, though.

Guys, I split my favorite jeans getting into the car this morning.


It's gonna be one of those kinds of days.

Unbeta'd as all hell.



I sometimes have the tendency to look at you religiously.

Eames is thrusting in and out, so slowly, each thrust sending sparks up Arthur’s spine and making starbusts explode behind his eyes, and Arthur is absolutely helpless against staying quiet. “Oh,” he says softly, “oh, oh, oh,” each time Eames pushes in. There’s a small part of him that is deeply embarrassed that the only noise he can make is a noise of soft surprise, but his brain refuses to translate his noises to anything else. He doesn't remember when the mood of their lovemaking changed, from something frantic and charged to something softer and deeper and more intimate, all Arthur knows is that the atmosphere has turned into something that thrills and terrifies him in equal measure. All he knows is that he feels something stirring inside him, and his body is surprised--Eames is touching something inside of him that shouldn’t be touched, something he’s spent years burying deep inside, something he’s been trying to quash but has been blossoming in the dark, quiet confines of his soul for years now.

With every slow, precise thrust, Eames is breaking down the walls that surround that hidden thing inside of him, he feels it blooming in his blood, sweetly sharp and almost unbearable. He turns his head on the pillow, moaning softly now, and he squeezes his eyes shut because it’s too much to look into Eames eyes and see the soft adoration and wonder there. He feels himself trembling, and the knot builds in his throat. Oh. Oh. For a minute he tries to remind himself that this is Just Fucking, and that This Is Eames We’re Talking About, but he’s never been good at lying to himself, and much to his irritation he’s not about to start being awesome at it now. He’s known it’s been different between He and Eames for awhile now, that what started off as a way to blow of steam during jobs had turned into a friendship and partnership that had strengthened and deepened over time. He is suddenly reminded of the job in Prague where after a day full of information gathering they had ended up in Eames hotel, Arthur sprawled on the bed going over his notes and Eames reading a much-loved copy Chomsky: Selected Readings and the entire scene and the sense of home it brought with it taking Arthur’s breath away.

Now, his body caught in the slow burn of pleasure radiating through him with each of Eames’ agonizingly methodical thrusts, He feels the prickle and burn of tears underneath his eyelids as realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and Eames is still thrusting, so perfect, hitting something inside that threatens to unravel and leave him bare and vulnerable, something he never wanted to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not with Eames, not with anyone, but. Jesus. I’m home. Darling, Arthur,” he hears Eames pant softly above him. “Please look at me. Please.” there is a patience and a yearning in his plea that says everything that Arthur is afraid to hear.

I can’t, he thinks miserably, wretchedly, his eyes still shut tight. He still can’t say anything for fear that all will come out is a sob, he just keeps making helpless keening noises. Then Eames thrusts in, intent and hard, leaving himself flush with Arthur’s body, and Arthur cannot help the wail that escapes his throat as he comes. He feels Eames tremble above him and then Eames’ breath is a whisper of damp heat against the shell of his ear. “Arthur, love. Look at me, let me see your gorgeous eyes.” Arthur lets out a shaky sigh and opens his eyes. His vision is blurry and he can feel the tears spilling and leaving cool trails down the sides of his face, but before he can say anything, Eames is kissing him tenderly, and murmuring soft words of quiet adoration into Arthur’s neck. “Never thought you’d let me have you like this,” “Never thought you let me see…Arthur, you’re so fucking beautiful, want you always like this.”

Arthur, doing what he thinks is the bravest, scariest things he’s ever done, nods gently.

Did anyone else see Tom Felton accept the award for Best Villain on the MTV Movie awards? I started squealing and my fiance just rolled his eyes and kept reading his book. It's a good sign, I think. We're gonna go the distance if he can already put up with the squealing. :-)

Oh. Holy. Jesus.

Just. Watch.


Hermione Granger does Teach For America. And it cracks my shit up.

Is anyone watching The Vampire Diaries? I'm not, but I'm a little bit intrigued. I tried watching the first episode, but then there was writing in a diary in a graveyard and then some kind of mysterious fog rolled in and I had enough. They recap it on Television Without Pity sometimes, and I'll admit it occasionally doesn't seem that bad, but that might just be the spin. What little I have seen though has me wondering if anyone else has noticed that in some series, the sidekicks and extra characters seem a lot more awesome than the main ones? In the case of The Vampire Diaries, or VD, as I like to call it, the two leads, Elena and Stefan seem kind of lame, whereas Damon, asshole extraordinare though he may be, and Bonnie, up and coming witch, seem far more interesting--to me at least. I've noticed this pattern in a few things--In True Blood, I almost always can't stand Sookie and Bill, and in Will and Grace, I only watched for Karen and Jack. These might not be the best of examples and I know more are out there--can anyone else think of shows where the headliners pale in comparison to the sidekicks?