Nov. 28th, 2007

Sam's Three Things about House was never such a sweet thing.

Three Things about House, MD. Large spoilers within. )

3a. House MD has the awesomest soundtrack.
Ring out the bells! The charge-and-transfer replacement cord for my mp3 player has come. My Peapod grocery delivery has not, however, which is irking me, as I can't make a sandwich until it does.

However, I do have my cord and I'm watching Hogfather, so life isn't too terrible (I'm tickled that Teatime's accent is American; so many of America's villains are English, after all). I haven't seen R since all the drama went down, but to judge by the state of the living room he has indeed passed this way.

[livejournal.com profile] jack_and_ellis has been updated and, having done my research for this section, I feel confident that were it necessary I could break into the London Athenaeum Club with complete confidence. Chapter Fourteen is complete, and the update is here. Anderson's fate is revealed, Clare cross-dresses some more, Ellis offers a choice, and there is a tragic but inevitable accident.

If you're interested in a little club-breaking yourself, the groundplans for the club are here.
Oh man. The day was great up until 1 o'clock, when the whole thing went to utter shit.

Peapod delivered late and left off part of my order; they credited me for the missing groceries, but it's still a pain in the ass. While Peapod was being late, I checked my email and got a huge whack of the correspondence going on between my stepfather and my brother's would-be bride, which reads so precisely like a fanwank that it isn't even funny. It would be, except I can't just sit back and avoid this one -- it involves the health of my brother and really, my mother too. If he was hurt or if he dies because of this stupid plan, it may very well kill her.

Then I got to work and there was no computer for me to work at, so I basically wandered around for an hour until our staff meeting, which took up the rest of my shift. Even that would have been okay except that a significant portion of the meeting concerned the new intern positions we're currently interviewing for...positions I thought I was holding. There's literally no position left for me if we do hire all these interns, and I'm not sure if that subtly means I'm fired or if I just get all the shit nobody else wants to do. I emailed our artistic director and explained that I was anxious about this, but while I sent the email he was literally in the process of interviewing a literary intern...which is the job I really want.

At the end of the staff meeting we do something called "back to zero" which in theory means that everyone cleans the lobby and house until it's clean. In reality it means that someone puts new toilet paper in the bathrooms, someone else takes out two bags of trash, and then everyone else goes back to their jobs and I do the rest. That ate up all the time I had left, so I emailed the Artistic Director and ran away.

AND I CAN'T FIND MY FAVOURITE BLUE SHIRT.

But I do have a firelog and hard cider and plenty of food, so I'm going to hunker down and hide from the world. Would that I could do it permanently.
R is awake.

He read the letter while I watched TV; it was a mixture of awesome and awful, because it's only at times like this that I remember he went to Yale. He corrected all her grammar and spelling.

Then, the stupid fuck said this.

R: I'm really not looking forward to calling her.
Sam: Why would you call her?
R: Just to tell her, you know, last night was a little weird all over, let's take a few days.
Sam: Here's an idea. Don't call her for like a week.
R: A week? Without talking?
Sam: Yeah. She wanted to give you time to get it together. Just wait a week and then say to her, even if you didn't get your head together, that you have and you want to hang out.
R: I don't want to hang out.
Sam: Then don't fucking call her! She said to call her if you got it together and wanted to hang out. Otherwise, let it go.

He proceeded to go to his bedroom and call her.

If that fuck leaves me with a weeping emotionally traumatised girlfriend for three hours again tonight, I'm going to pee on his bed.

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