Up to the moment update. :)
As per my icon, David Cook is now not only the one and only American Idol (hallelujah!)... he is also my pants-less Guitar Hero. The man has a fantastic voice, a great smile, sexy legs... In fact, the only thing he doesn't have... is me. Le sigh. I have done my appropriate amount of happy weeping over subsequent finale-watchings. I have sympathetic tear ducts, and the second he got emotional, and then his mom, and then his brother, and then he sang, and smiled... What was I supposed to do? Needless to say, I'm thrilled. I feel like my baby is all grown up and
taking the music industry (or iTunes at least) by storm. Can't wait till he has a single that's not the songwriter's winning song, and see how far he can go. Is it too much to hope that Lionel Richie will put a bug in someone's ear and we'll get a full single of "Hello"?
In similarly exciting news, albeit in a more tangible way, sometime around this time give or take a day or so next week I'll be living it up in a place called Washington that is not the state. I.e.... D.C. I.e. whatever chunk of Virginia got carved out to be said joyful spot. Living up our nation's past and present and seeing all the places I've never seen before except in pictures. Monuments! People! Things! And that's only leg one of fabulouso trip o' vacation and birthday. Clearly, more updates and things to come. I'm a little fuzzy on the geography of the area, having never been. More exciting than the places and things is the company, as our own wondiferous crystaltear
will be shepherding me and living up said vacation with me. Later on, we will be joined by miakamouse
to explore the wilds of The City. And trains. And cool things. Here's hoping my flabby, tub of couch potato physique stands up to the urban hiking.
To that end I've been playing with my Wii Fit the past few days to see if I can't build some (minute) stamina over the next five days. My thighs feel the burn, which considering I'm playing a Nintendo game and frequently get ultra SMASHED by the super hula hooping is a sad thing. Seriously. It's like three minutes straight of zooming your hips around in circles. By the end of that, I'm hanging on by a thread to remember which way my hips are twirling. I do that firmly with my door closed. No one needs to see my rear making revolutions. Perhaps I should do it without pants? No, no. Just Mr. Cook. Could he do his concert without pants? If I said pretty please? Right. Back on subject.
Also, excitingly, my Kyou Kara Maou fic is doooooooooooone. Posted, out the door, edited, finito. I'm so excited. That was a long labor and delivery, but it was worth it. And because Loyce has big, fluttery eyelashes, I have been of late immersed in writing fic for "Avatar." Yes. Yes, I know. I know. Zuko, say hello to Katara. Katara, say hello to Zuko. Muses, start your engines. I don't really understand my brain, but as the fiction is rolling, I do not question. Any fiction rolling anywhere is fiction rolling. And bless me, that's a good feeling.