This is me blogging.

It's nothing you haven't seen before. I sit down at my computer and prepare to hammer out something that will end up taking the shape of a decent blog post. I complain a lot to whoever I'm talking to through the glory that is the Internet (sometimes through random punctuation that has no meaning to anyone but me, like this charming message I sent to Erin: ...!? ;;;;; && ^ : ) : ) ^^ ). And then eventually I get over it and write.

Christmastime is fast approaching, you know. In fact, there are some who would say it's been here for weeks. I mean, the Christmas music has been playing nonstop for ages. When we eat lunch in Kerrytown, there are always cheerful songs about Jesus and angels and Christmas spirit playing in the background. It's driving me crazy.

I'm not completely sure what my position on Christmas music is. I think I'll make some lists. That's what the characters in the novels I've been reading do. List-making is big in YA. It's a very easy way to write things out without actually having to develop them, you know. Perfect for NaNoWriMo.

Anyway, the lists:

Bad Things About Christmas Music:

• There is nothing else during the month of December. Nothing
• I think "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and that other song, the one with the bells, are some of the most depressing songs ever
• You hear every song over and over
• As a result of that, it gets stuck in your head
• It's super annoying to find yourself humming it when you could be humming something, else, like "I'll Make A Man Out Of You"

Good Things About Christmas Music:

• It's only around for a month

Okay, so now I know I hate Christmas music. This is so refreshing. The only problem is this: I might still like it. I mean, there are many things I like even though they're obviously terrible and I should hate them. I just can't think of any off the top of my head. People who know me can think of them for me, right? I trust you to know me better than I know my own self.

That reminds me of Twilight. I'm starting to love it again. There, something for the "this is horrible but I love it like my own psychotic, unclean child" list. I think it was discovering MyLifeIsTwilight dot com, which is sort of like MLIA but with worse spelling and creepier, Twi-hard posters whose lives seem to revolve around their life-size Rob Pat cutouts.

Actually, it might be because I was trying to read Breaking Dawn in French. I like to read things in French and see how much I can actually understand and how much leaves me wishing I had a French-English dictionary in my huge coat pockets. It doesn't help that books are mostly written in some weird tense I haven't learned yet, but at least I can understand some of the words. And imagine how amazed I was when Edward asked Bella, "Tu veux la voir?" and I realized that the direct object pronouns Kris Ann have been teaching us are actually used in the French language. Also, it is just as epic when Bella asks "Why am I covered in feathers?" in French.

Pourquoi suis-je couvert des plumes?

I don't know, Bella. Helpfully, Edward explains that it was because he bit a pillow. Ou deux... Oh, Edward, you pillow-biter. Now I understand why so many teenage girls want to marry you. I certainly find pillow-biting attractive.

I put a lot of links into this post to distract you from actually reading it. I mean, who would pay attention to me when there's a link to Rob Pat's slightly stalkerish visage staring you in the face. Come on, click it. I dare you. I hear they call him Robward now.

I can't keep writing, infidels. I have things to do. Important things. Yes. More important than spilling out my thoughts, hopes, and dreams to the Internet at large, as crazy as that may sound.

"stayhome mom & doting dad yearn for your baby"

That was an adopt ad in the newspaper. I thought it would make a great title. Aren't you just dying to give up your child to them? They yearn for him/her. Yearn.

Last night, I stayed up until midnight watching animanga with the child. Because I am the kind of person who thinks midnight is late but will stay up that late just to watch animanga. Of course, I didn't just watch animanga. This is the full list of things I did (minus the one or two or ten things I forgot about):

What I Did For Two Hours Last Night

• Decided the animanga was racist against the French for only offering Japanese and English subtitles
• Complained about Tohru having brown hair
• Complained about my complaining about Tohru's hair
• Informed the child that I am often hairist against those who are not blonde
• Complained about almost every character's voice
• Spent the first five minutes whispering to the child, "His voice is weird!"
• Burst into hysterical giggles every time Yuki talked
• Imitated Yuki's voice by putting my hand over my mouth and talking in a falsetto
• Resolved to look up who the voice actors were so I could laugh my head off at them
• Told the child he was acting like an animanga lover
• Assured the child that acting like an animanga lover was not a bad thing
• Giggled
• Snickered
• Laughed
• Read two books
• Yelled at Cassee (aka. Kimchi Kitty) until she ran upstairs
• Wrote Kimchi Kitty gusta Ponchita on a paper plate
• Decided to gasp and put my book (or hand) over my mouth every time anyone swore
• Decided that there were too many opportunites to do that in the animanga
• Complained about how profanity is affecting our children
• Decided to put my hand over my mouth and gasp loudly whenever people in real life swear
• Complained
• Complained about the songs during the credits
• Complained when the child skipped over the credits
• Listened to the child complain that I complained too much
• Told that child that I was complaining for the sake of complaining
• Actually watched the animanga

It was a busy evening indeed. Besides, everyone knows that the more I complain about something, the more I like it.

One of the books I read was called The Blue Avenger or something like that. It was an okay book, but as a pseudocurser, my favorite part was that every time in the book where someone should have cursed, it instead said !@#$. That was because the main character liked old-fashioned comic books, where characters say @$#! a lot, and also because his father said something along the lines of "profanity is the language of those who can think of nothing else to say." In other words, "people who cuss are idiots." Yes, that means you.

Idiot.