Fuck you for letting our friendship take a back seat.

Cop Shows and Old Flames

Cop shows have dominated the masses and their television screens. It’s nothing new and if it is, you, whoever you are, are quite the slowpoke. Or maybe just preoccupied with the more important things in life – something I wish I could relate to. (I honestly think there’s something wrong with me and my obsession with retro-culture. It’ makes for horrible small talk.) And while the cop shows have dominated reality, the show is riddled with old flames taking away the hunky male lead characters!!!!!

Elliot and Kathy

Castle and his publisher

Ridiculous.

I know what they go through… sort of. You know, experiencing my own on-and-off goofiness for two years. I may only be sixteen but I assure you I’m very in tune with these things.  Probably a bad thing now that I think about it, but that’s what’s up.

I can’t quite complain about Castle though. I mean Kate had it coming big time. The guy from the Robbery department thingiemabobers was super hunky and she had her fun. But at least Olivia acknowledged her affections instead of denying them! (She’s denying them now, yeah, but SHE knows there’s at least something to deny)

What irks me about the whole ex-wives sweeping husbands off of their feet is the example exemplified by Elliot and Kathy. Ugh. Gross. Destroying my cannon! I don’t even care anymore what happens to him and Olivia anymore (lie) because whenever they get close enough she has another goddamn baby.

Okay overreacting. She did this ONCE.

But once should be more than enough.

Freaking baby factory I swear to God…

Olivia needs a nice booty call. No, no. No, Porter doesn’t count because technically she never “got it in with him” so to speak. The last one was the reporter, if I remember correctly. The reporter that she kept a secret from Elliot? Yes? I think so. *wink* She is a woman and she needs her sexy time. As long as the boy isn’t a leech she should have some fun.

I’ll save more of the rant after the season finale of Law and Order: SVU (which Chris Meloni is going to be a part of FOREVER AND EVER amen).

The Parts in the Sum of the Whole

BONES OMG. I hate the use of acronyms when I blog but OMG. Oh my FUCKING God.

————————-

JUMBO MAJOR SPOILERS for Bones’ 100th Episode, so if you haven’t watched it yet watch it now you twat.

I don’t know what to think. I really don’t. You know Temperance may be afraid of loving Booth, but I’M AFRAID THAT ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHOWS IS ABOUT TO BECOME UNWATCHABLE! Trust needs to be earned and… while for five years I’ve had faith in this show, I’m not so sure anymore. But the episode was AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LIKE OH MAN OH MAN LOVE *heart smiley face sticker lalala* They set up the story like that so of course they HAVE to make it so that Temperance says no to Booth. There was no other way to do it. I would NOT have accepted them getting together right then and there.

BUT WHY DID THEY HAVE TO SET UP THAT SCENARIO IN THE FIRST PLACE?! WHY?????

Actually, I’m lying. I know exactly why they did it. I just don’t like it. And Emily’s and David’s acting did not help me like it any more. JESUS. Both of them crying. OBVIOUSLY they both DON’T want to do this. This being, not… not being together. Jesus. I can’t believe the writers MADE THEM CRY.

I’m trying to analyze their interactions with each other, but everything is kind of just jumbled in my brain right now, probably because it’s two in the morning and I’M STILL IN DENIAL.

And to think I was expecting to watch something pleasant after seeing that stupid LAST SONG shit with Miley Cyrus. Ugh. I can’t hate on her too much, she wasn’t so bad. When she wasn’t talking, that is. BUT THIS IS BESIDES THE POINT.

Oh you stupid unpredictable TPTB you… YOU ALL ARE THE SAME. ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE.

I’m lying. Again. Bones’ PTB isn’t so bad. Not like Stargate… BUT again this is off topic. PFFT no wonder I got a 6 on my damn SAT essay…

Another sleepless night. Great. I’m starting to feel like my old self again. Why does life have to be dysfunctional in REAL life AND TV? Where the FUCK am I supposed to run away to now?

Waiting for my captain to sweep me away from the abbey

Things have been slow lately. This year the presents fit under my twin from Sleepy’s. I left them there to lessen the eyesores in the apartment. They’ve become so frequent lately. We need a new calendar but all we have are those crappy clumped-together piece of posterpaper ones from the Japanese Restaurant. You get one if your order is $30 and above. There’s one in the kitchen leaning next to my chair and the rest are most likely stuffed somewhere next to the washing machine. I’m running out of comfortable positions to sit in. My feet hurts if I put it this way and my leg hurts if I don’t. My posture is atrocious regardless, and my hands are forever cold. I have done nothing productive today (I’ll probably end up cramming this Sunday). All I did was watch TV.

The Sound of Music was on so I can’t complain.

I know, I know; I hate this as much as you do

Dear Georgia,

I am shamed once again for bringing this up. (Can you believe it? The first time in five months! Five months!! And I was doing so good too.) I know, I know. You hate him. I hate him too. And you know, I hate this as much as you do.  But it’s been bugging me lately. He’s been bugging me lately. No, not directly… but indirectly. I’m starting to remember things again. Things we did, things we said, big and small. Little fantasies here and there. It was inevitable I suppose, you can’t stay in denial forever.

What’s different about this time though is that I’ve realized something. Though I didn’t fuck up quite as much as the bastard, I messed up too. I tried… forgiving him before I could forgive the situation. I wanted him to grovel. I wanted him to suffer for losing me. I loved him even though no one else did. I wanted him to beg for me back. I was a clingy ex girlfriend for a good month or so and I guess now I can understand why he yelled at me that last time. (Ironically, as you remember I already had boyfriend #2 but what a hoot he turned out to be…) But there are no excuses. He became a cock. And now I’ve become a bitch.

I honestly tried to be his friend. But there was no room for friendship with the way he kept torturing me just because he thought he had me wrapped around his tiny little…

…You know maybe he did, at least for a little while…

Now that I think about it, sometimes I want to apologize for it (I’m fairly certain I have) and sometimes I want him to apologize for it. But even if he did I know it’ll never be enough. I wish I’d just deal with this bullshit instead of simply forgetting about it. It’d be so much easier to just accept it all. It’s not even like I’m unhappy, just a little bit shaken.

I don’t know where I was going with this, so I think I’m just going to end it here. It’s funny, whenever I talk about him there is no point. I should stop that, shouldn’t I?

Lots of love,

Kate

Beneath the Surface

Author’s Note: This was written for my creative writing class based on the topic I had to research which happened to be on Atlantis! So I warn you and I beg of you to please excuse the obvious Stargate references and the failed attempts at technobabble. The names are horrible. HORRIBLE.

All other errors belong to my inflamed and extremely irritated left eye.

———————————-

The Antarctic was relentless and unforgiving. There was no sun to greet the early morning sky. It hid itself, instead, beneath layers and layers of imposing clouds. Winds swept across the tundra, howling in agony. They were alone, apart from the massive artificial buildings seemingly huddle together against the cold. This was McMurdo Station¹. The bitter frigid air crept into the minds of its inhabitants, gradually erasing the memory of the warmer seasons native to the country they swore to serve. How they were expected to serve that country in the middle of nowhere had left US Air Force Colonel Jack Simmons regretting taking position here. Luckily, his stay was over – at least for a couple of weeks.

He stood by the Hercules² as it was slowly boarded, his face bombarded by snow and his muscles tense. Wasn’t December supposed to be one of the warmer months?³ He licked his cracked lips and resisted the urge to push people in.

“Stand down,” General Michael Sheppard chuckled beneath his enormous coat. “Keep that up and you might just pull something, Simmons.”

“Yes sir,” he obeyed and cracked his neck.

“I don’t suppose you’ve met Doctor Samantha Mitchell?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. Oh yeah, he thought to himself, blonde hair, blue eyes, and one hell of a left hook.

They had met, apparently, on his first night at the station during a strange incident at the bowling alley; something concerning a few too many beers, a bet with a couple of rookie airmen and an angry black bruise on his forehead. When he tried to reacquaint himself with her the morning after, she had done nothing more than walk away. From

then on, he assumed she intended to ignore his existence. But that never really hindered him.

“Once or twice, sir,” he replied candidly.

She threw him a glare and forced a smile. For the sake of diplomacy, she told herself, and she headed in. Jack and General Sheppard followed, taking the helm. Once their gear was secure, Jack radioed the station.

“McMurdo, this is Hercules, copy.”

“Hercules, we read you,” the airman responded.

“Are we good to go?”

“Hercules, you are good to go; ETOA 1300 Zulu⁴.”

Jack looked at his watch, the face glaring back at him. 0400. Wonderful, he thought halfheartedly.

“Alright then, we’ll see you in three weeks, boys,” said the General.

“Copy that, Hercules; McMurdo out.”

Jack hoisted the controls. They were lifted in the air.

“Easy does it, son,” Sheppard instructed him.

“Yes sir.”

The aircraft creaked and whined as it rose in altitude. Back at the cargo hold, Samantha watched from above as the station drowned beneath a blanket of white.

Jack awoke with a terrible headache, the blaring of the emergency alarm and the hissing of broken pipes only serving to increase the pounding on his frontal lobe. He lifted his head off the console and touched his forehead. His hand was warm with blood.

A mild concussion, he surmised. The view port had completely shattered, allowing a downdraft of wind to bite at his exposed face. He peered through and saw that the Hercules had punched into a glacier. Looking up, he estimated that they were a couple hundred meters into the ice.

How long was I out? He looked to his watch, the face almost completely smashed. 0700. He frowned; the past three hours were nothing but a blur. Turning to his left, he suddenly remembered he wasn’t alone.

“General!” Jack felt for a pulse. It was slow but it beat steadily underneath his fingertips. He was only unconscious. Jack heaved a sigh of relief and tapped the radio on his helmet.

“Mayday, mayday, McMurdo this is Hercules do you copy?”

But there was no noise and no answer; the line was dead. Damn, he threw his helmet to the ground.

In the cargo hold, Samantha awoke to similar circumstances. Though still in a slight state of shock, she hadn’t failed to notice the occasional sway of the loose ropes within the cargo hold. She frowned at this unsettling observation. Since she was left unharmed, she freed herself from her seat and checked on her peers. Besides the five-man crew⁵ piloting the Hercules, she and two other scientists were the only ones on board.

After assessing that both doctors were nothing more than unconscious, she set out to find Jack. Fortunately he had found her first.

“What in the world happened?”

“Aside from the splitting headache, I’m fine thanks for asking,” he stated sarcastically. “Apparently we’re parked in some kind of glacier. Jonas, our navigator, is out like a light but I doubt we’re very far. We were only airborne for a few hours.” As he walked closer to her, he noticed the slumped bodies of her fellow scientists.

“Oh, well, they should be fine; probably passed out from shock,” she stood, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

He eyed her incredulously, “You’re a doctor, right?”

“Actually I–”

“I was only teasing,” he told her.

Yeah, hilarious, she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, the iron from the aircraft moaned and the floor below them sank. Jack caught her as she stumbled towards him.

“Simmons what in God’s name is going on? Where are you?” General Sheppard’s voice barked from Jack’s handheld radio. The jerk of the aircraft must’ve awoken him.

“In the cargo hold, sir, with the doctors,” he responded.  “General, I take that Jonas, Kauri, and Jared are also awake?”

“Alive and kicking, sir,” Major Jonas Seki responded enthusiastically.

Samantha found her footing and turned to Jack, “I advise that we get out of here immediately. The crash must have caused cracks in the ice. I’m not sure how long this thing has before it falls deeper.”

“Go wake up the other two,” he said to her.

She looked around hesitantly. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Smack them around a bit? I don’t know, just get them up.”

She did, timidly, as he suggested. As they jolted awake, she smiled at them apologetically.

“General,” Jack spoke. “Doctor Mitchell recommends that we get the hell out of here.”

“Well then kids, you hear the lady – Sheppard out.”

Jack shook his head, grinning as he unlocked the cargo hold door. A strong gust of wind greeted the Colonel as it slowly dropped open. Pulling up his hood, he waited as the scientists and his crewmates rushed out. Once outside, he saw Samantha waiting a few meters away from the aircraft. As their eyes met, they both released a sigh of relief.

“Colonel,” Major Jared Hansen began. He and the rest of them were further ahead. “Before we left, we were able to secure a first aid kit, a couple of flashlights, and a heating stove to melt the ice. We also have the power bars we packed in our coats before takeoff.”

Jack tilted his head, “Chocolate chip, I hope?”

“Yes sir,” Sergeant Kauri Lorne smiled. “The only problem is the signal beacon was damaged. Hopefully the station received our SOS before we went down.”

Jack nodded his head approvingly.  “Well now that that’s settled,” he began as he went to join Samantha. “I’m sure with a little paint over here, a fire place over there, this place will feel just like…”

He was interrupted by the deafening snap of the ice. Their colleagues urged them to run, but it was too late. Angry veins crept towards Jack and Samantha and the floor beneath them gave way.

Samantha awoke face down on the cold surface. Blood trickled from the fresh gash across her face and her right wrist throbbed painfully. Luckily, her Antarctic gear had shielded her body from any other injuries. With great effort, she turned on her back. Her eyes widened and she sighed heavily at the sight above her. Aside from the gaping hole from which they fell through, the ice on the ceiling was oddly smooth and consistent, curving like the top of a dome.

“Jesus Christ,” Jack groaned.

She turned and winced at the site of him. His left shin was jerked forward in an awkward manner, broken. The blood from the wound where the jagged bone sliced through began spreading across his thick white pants. His eyes followed hers and caught sight of what she had been staring at.

“Hey, Mitchell,” he breathed heavily. He could see panic beginning to form in her eyes. “Oh, the pants… they’ll be fine, don’t worry,” his hands curled into fists. “I’ll get them dry cleaned once we’re out of here.”

She nodded somberly, acknowledging his attempt to break the tension. “Ye-Yeah, okay.”

“Good, now how about you come give me a hand, Doctor?”

She crawled towards him, turned him over and propped him against the nearby wall. She took the bandages out of his coat pocket, her hands fumbling. Her gaze switched occasionally from his leg to his hazy brown eyes. Their proximity was a little unnerving, especially since she had been trying to avoid Jack for a good eleven months, though, she admitted, she had done a terrible job at that. They always, quite literally, bumped into each other. If her cheeks weren’t already red from the cold and the cut, he would have seen it change from a pale porcelain to a radiant scarlet. Her eyes returned to his leg.

Jack watched her hesitation and foolishly associated it with inexperience. He opened his mouth to encourage her but released a yell instead. She winced again. The bone was set.

“Good job,” he managed to hiss between his clenched teeth.

“Don’t move,” she ordered. “I don’t have anything to make a splint with.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he grunted as she began to bandage the injury. He reached into his coat pocket for his radio and found that it had been smashed by the fall.

Jack leaned back and closed his eyes, frustrated and in pain. When he opened them again, he noticed that the Hercules was still there.

“Wait,” he told her, and indicated the aircraft.  She narrowed her gaze towards him.  “You see it, right?” he asked.

Samantha finished wrapping his leg and turned around. It was the Hercules, alright. “Yes but I don’t really see your point…”

“That’s not the only thing.”

She took in their surroundings and understood what he meant. Her concern over the Colonel had distracted her from noticing the tall structures⁶ towering over them. She mentally chastised herself. He’s leaning against one of them, for crying out loud. It appeared that they had landed in the middle of some sort of man-made facility.

“This… shouldn’t… be here,” she looked around in disbelief.

“Yeah, I figured,” he said.

Samantha stood and began to study the building behind the Colonel. She came to a halt at the echo of her footsteps.

Jack looked at her quizzically. “Mitchell?”

“Ah, uh, well you see,” she bit her lip trying to arrange her thoughts. “That isn’t supposed to happen.”

“Could you be a little more specific?” Jack looked at her expectantly.

At a loss for words, she stomped her foot. It echoed again. “Ice doesn’t echo.”

“So…”

“So the ground must be solid – some sort of ore I’m assuming,” she said, kneeling over and pressing her palm against it. “Maybe metal?”

“A white metal,” he stated skeptically.

“It could have frozen over. Besides we have no idea how long this has been down here,” she rose and studied him keenly, “Unless this is where the government has been spending my hard earned tax dollars.”

“No, that would be over there,” said Jack, nodding towards the Hercules. Smoke emanated from its body riddled with dents.

“Right,” she smacked her lips together. “I’m going take a look inside, see if there’s something we can use to contact the others.”

“Be home before dinner,” he called. She waved her hand dismissively and disappeared. He took a peek at his watch. 0800. Sighing, Jack ran a hand through his cropped brown hair.

The dim light from the surface that broke into the dome was unable to shine through the layer of white frost coating the walls outside the structure. Reaching into her coat, Samantha produced a small flashlight. The interior of the building was narrow and high, the ceiling rising in a majestic manner. At the center was the monstrous statue of a beautiful but naked woman rising from what appeared to be water, her arms welcoming an embrace, and her head tilted with a smile. Feathery wings protruded from her back and appeared to glow under the light of Samantha’s flashlight. Curiously, she rubbed away some of the frost. Beneath it was solid gold. In fact, the entire room was nothing but solid gold⁷.

“That was fast,” Jack said to her as she walked out. He offered her a power bar but she remained mute. “So I take it you didn’t find anything.”

“Well, there’s a gold angel inside,” she stated, half amused, half stunned. “Actually, the entire room was made of gold.”

Jack watched her as she took a seat next to him, disbelief etched in her face. Regarding her with indifferent, he unwrapped his meal and began to eat.

“This whole thing is extremely unusual,” she stated. “You see, normally when glaciers form they create a sort of…” she halted, feeling the Colonel’s firm grip on her shoulder.

“Please, Doctor, spare me.”

She brushed his hand off and scoffed. “Basically, in lay mans terms, glaciers aren’t supposed to be completely hollow on the inside. And have you noticed the ceiling? There are no icicles. It’s shaped like a dome, almost as if there had been a barrier of some kind holding back the water that later on froze over this facility. Now, I’m no archeologist but despite its obvious architectural achievements and possible technological superiority, this society must be hundreds of thousands of years old! The only time Antarctica was a hospitable living environment was before the last glacial period which was nearly one-hundred thousand years ago⁸. To be here, of all places!” Her eyes beamed with wonder. “It’s almost as if they were hiding…” She paused. “And what better place is there to hide than at the edge of the world?”

Minutes passed in an awkward silence, both of them guilty of her conclusion.

“We’ll call it Oz,” Jack stated haphazardly.

“Excuse me?”

“This place; we’ll call it Oz,” he said again.

“Seriously?” she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Seriously,” he smiled genuinely. He offered her food once more.

“You’re insane,” she teased as she snatched the bar from his hand.

The next time Colonel Jack Simmons opened his eyes, he found that the headache and pain were gone. The hissing and alarms from the Hercules were replaced by the rhythmic tone of his heart monitor and the soft snoring of Doctor Samantha Mitchell sleeping in the visitor’s chair opposite his bed. Looking to his wrist, he was somewhat disappointed to find an IV line in place of his trashed watch. Secretly he crossed his fingers and prayed that he was in New Zealand¹⁰. His bargaining with God was interrupted by Samantha’s sneezed. Great timing, he thought astoundingly.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Jack said as he sat up and folded his arms.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” she yawned.

He shrugged. “How long was I out?”

“Four days,” she took a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. “You passed out – ”

“The concussion, yeah I figured,” he interjected.

“Rescue teams came a few minutes after that,” she moved her seat next to his bed and recalled the view as she was airlifted to safety. He watched her face slowly shine with wonder. “It was beautiful.”

“What, Oz?”

She rubbed the back of her neck and smirked knowingly, “Actually it’s called Atlantis.” He frowned in confusion. “I ran a few tests on the ice from inside the city. It’s about twelve-thousand to thirteen-thousand years old give or take, which legend has it was around the time Atlantis existed. I’m sure the archeologists at the site will concur with my findings.”

“No kidding,” he raised an eyebrow. “So it was hiding?”

Samantha nodded her head. “We probably could have found it earlier, but we never bother looking around there since it was already so close to the station.”

“That’s… not very smart.”

“Go figure,” she bit her lip and watched as he twiddled his thumbs. “General Sheppard’s overseeing the excavation. He wants me to stay here, since it’s buried in ice and everything.”

“So we’re still in Antarctica?” She shook her head. “Eh well that’s fine.” He paused, her eyes locked in his gaze. “I suppose it’d be nice not spending Christmas alone.” She smiled. “Who knows, maybe we can go find Santa too, whenever you’re free,” he winked.

“Wrong pole, Colonel,” she laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he paused once more. “And the name’s Jack,” he smiled, extending a hand. She happily took it in hers.

“Sam,” she said and smiled again.

That morning, the sun broke through.

———————————

Footnotes

¹ McMurdo Station in Antarctica is a US research center (for glaciologists, such as Dr. Samantha Mitchell) as well as a military training zone.
² C-130 Hercules is a military cargo plane used for refueling and dropping off cargo in Antarctica and other locations around the world.
³ Antarctic summers are from Mid-December to Mid-January. Recommended months for air transportation are from March 1^st to October 1^st.
⁴ ETOA is an acronym for “estimated time of arrival” the 1300, 0400 and other “0000” formatted numbers refer to the twenty-four hour clock used by military operations and is read ^i.e. thirteen-hundred or oh-four-hundred. Zulu is most commonly known as grand meridian time.
⁵ The Hercules is run by a five-man crew consisting of two pilots, one navigator, one flight engineer, and one loadmaster.
⁶ “…tall structures” refers to the buildings surrounding the hot and cold springs mentioned in Timaeus and Critias.
⁷ The statue of the woman was based around the temple of Cleito mentioned in Timaeus and Critias.
⁸ The last glacial period refers to the time in which certain areas in the world, including parts of Antarctica, had frozen over.
⁹ The legend of Atlantis was written in Plato’s last dialogue Timaeus and Critias. Atlantis was said to have disappeared around 9000 BC.
¹⁰ New Zealand is the only place with flights directly to and from McMurdo Station.

ㅋㅋㅋ…

I was going to post something important, but I’ve forgotten what it was.
WELL, I guess here’s one post I can finally put in the Uncategorized… category.

바보년 !!!!

At this rate, I’m going to end up in a mental institute. Why?

Reason One: Sometimes annoyance overpowers sympathy It’s not impossible to call up and plan something, for crying out loud.
Reason Two: My best friends are off in a foreign country fucking some beautiful, hot, foreigners (WHICH IS WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING INSTEAD OF BEING STALKED BY THIS 바보피곤!)

I play it off as stupidity (which is my excuse for practically everything) but my cynicism is getting the better of me ESPECIALLY today after seeing…
Jesus 피곤! No person could possibly be that idiotic. Sometimes I wonder if you’re secretly laughing at everyone in your high and mighty castle in the mother fucking sky. Then I remember what you said before and I think twice. But seriously, I can’t possibly imagine someone being so stupid! Or so selfish! Maybe I’m being selfish for being annoyed by this. Some will agree with me, some will disagree with me (oh and they don’t mind making it PAINFULLY obvious) but I don’t give a fuck (maybe I’ll write them a very angry blog but that’s it!) and you shouldn’t give a fuck if there is but only ONE person in the whole entire world who happens to not know you. You’re such a buzz kill, do you know that? Well at least you have someone so you won’t find the need to steal every guy later with your stupid games. Stupid.

Ahhhh I hate this. They changed you. (Or maybe you’ve always been like this!) I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to make 친구. It’s easy. You call them, chat up a fucking storm, and ask them to hang out. If you do that without me there I won’t care! I don’t want to be there! And when I’m making 친구 I don’t want you there!

I’m all about sharing, but please, I’m begging you, make your own친구 before you go around acquainting yourself with all of mine.

This is a neck breaker… Well I suppose I’m guilty of this too, (at least, Will would claim this; my-sorry-excuse-for-an-EX-boyfriend-I-have-no-idea-what-I-possibly-saw-in-him-and-his-ugly-fat-face-and-stupid-deformed-nearing-speech-impediment-voice-and-grammatically-incorrect…grammar…)without the malicious intentions. But there’s a difference. ONE, they came to me, and TWO we had a common interest in… making fun of Will. Which really pisses me off; telling me how much they hate him and then they go around sharing a fucking soda with him. What the fuck? Is it impossible for people to be real anymore? Jeeze, I didn’t know minorities were also capable of that stereotypical backstabbing that they pin white people with. Stupid racist Asians. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Yes, I know everyone is guilty of back talking, but don’t tell me you hate a person to death and turn around and make love to him! (Figure of speech, God bless the idiot who sexes that ugly mother fucker; with a penis that tiny, it’d take a miracle…) That’s not what I do. It can be construed that way, but please just know this; I’m much too classy to do that.

I wish I was with Georgia or Eleni right now. I really need a drink.

I need to let this shit go. It’s probably not as big of a deal as I think it is. Maybe it’s not just your insecurities, but mine as well.

UGH I wish it was easy….

니가 아니면 싫어

Georgia! Good old Georgia. All the seasons of Stargate Sg-1 God bless her lovely soul. I’m in heaven right now! Cheaper too, since she got them from China. Does this mean I can watch it in Chinese? Could you image that?! Well, I’m pretty darn sure they don’t have it dubbed but Chinese subtitles? What a hoot.

I really don’t need all of the seasons though. I could totally live without seasons nine and ten. I felt like TPTB were dragging it out, like The X-Files (I hate baby stories) and then they left us Sam/Jack shippers to the dogs so I stopped watching. I was afraid of being slapped in the face with a borg-stowaway-fucks-her-boss’-lover-esque ending, which thankfully never happened. And thankfully -  once more – Stargate Atlantis was easy on the eyes. (At least at the time it was; what a shame, letting them go to the dogs like that. This rant, though, I will save for another post).

But I’ll gladly take what I’m given.

This reminds me, I need to work on my Sims 2 Stargate Universe! (No I don’t mean the new series, though I’m hoping it’ll have me addicted enough to create one for them. How fun would that be? I’d have Ming-Na and Lou in the plam of my tiny little asian hands! Bwahahahahaha!) I had, or well I thought I had Sam’s family down but looking at her face in the picutre to the left, I think I may have missed the mark… a little bit. God knows I totally trashed O’Neill with my first attempt, and I can’t bring it upon me to make Dr. Frasier. I can never seem to get her perfect and well, we all know she at least deserves that. *pouts*

I’d like to say that I was a veteran fan of this show, but I was only five when the show started and I only received cable when I was ten. Age was never an issue with things like this. I mean, if you haven’t gotten the hint yet, I grew up watching these crazy shows. Star Trek, The X-Files, Seven Days… courtesy of Pops of cours. Also, another thing was how terribly TPTB toyed with us poor Sam/Jack shippers. Good grief, I just about had it when they aired Affinity. I’m not quite sure I’ve even forgiven Sam for throwing her man out the window like that. And poor Pete did not deserve to be her love tool, though I doubt he would have filed a complaint even if he realized what she was actually using him for. And he didn’t, he left Sam to do the dirty work. What a guy. But I shouldn’t really bitch. TPTB has practically given us the green light (even though they never aired it!) in Trinity when Sam was on Atlantis and a load of mind provoking goodies in Stargate Continuum. Oh and they didn’t kill off either character, which is more than I can say for the Daniel/Janet and Sheppard/Weir relationships which I will not get into, least I remain glued to this damn computer from now until the end of summer.

It’s hard to believe I basically revolved almost half of my life around this franchise. (And MapleStory. I’ll save that for another post as well…) Since fifth grade I think? Maybe sixth grade, because I remember being more of a Harry Potter nut back-in-that-day rather than a ‘Gater. I’m trying to remember… No, wait, it was both of them combine. Together. In unison. Coexisting in a notebook filled with cliche’d-corny-author insert fanfiction.  I’m sure I have hand drawn pictures lying around as well. Oh! And a GateWorld.Net user name and a livejournal. I like to keep them as mementos. Oh the good times.

I had no life then, and I’m sure I don’t have one now.
I’m still blogging after all.

지겨워 !

Cynicism is such a dangerous emotion and it’s the emotion I’m feeling right now. I hate dealing with all this he said, she said nonsense and I’m very wary to trust the information revealed through them, but once you hear something you can’t exactly un-hear it. And gradually, you start seeing what those “hes and shes” are seeing as well. You tell yourself, I am my own person and I form my own opinions. I will not let these stupid people influence me even though they just have by talking to you in the first place!

I’m becoming cynical as a result of questionable behavior performed under unpleasant circumstances. I don’t know exactly what 바보‘s trying to do, but I know how it’s affecting me. I don’t understand why 바보 is doing it but I understand why I feel the way I do because of what has been done. I’m not jelaous, I’m not angry, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that my easily earned, given-away-like-candy trust is going to come bite me in the ass. None of what confided in 바보 was a lie, none of what I feel towards the third party is a lie, and I would not take any of it back because at that moment, and I find myself feeling it now, I was annoyed and aggravated. I felt like I was suffocating and I will not change how I feel simply because people want me to. Call it stubborn. Why? Because it is.

If I’ve learned anything useful from personal growth, I’ve learned that emotions are not bad or good. They just are and though you should never feel guilty for how you feel, you should beware of your actions that manifest with your emotions. Perhaps what I would take back would be using 바보 as my confidant (I mean what are blogs for anyway?). 바보‘d say it’d be for a stupid reason, and you know I guess it is, but what could possibly justify 바보 actions taken right after the incident? And 바보‘s had a record of doing it before, who am I to continue trusting 바보 at least with manners such as the one I brought up? Who am I to not?

I am a cynisit, that’s who, and I really don’t like being this way, even if it is for the better. I’m so angry that my idiocy has turned a minor issue into a possible problem.

*stomps away in search of angsty stargate fanfiction*