It's about time that my back starts to cooperate, because this is getting ridiculous.
But why didn't I know that Zac Efron played a young Simon Tam? I feel like such a fool now. :p.
PETER WINGFIELD PETER WINGFIELD PETER WINGFIELD! *SQUEES* I'm so going to cap the living shit out of this episode.
I couldn't be more amused about this episode of The Dead Zone, because as a Breakfast Club fan, this is some cool stuff. :D. Ally Sheedy guest stars, there's a party in a library and they're walking through school halls. :D
All fangirlness aside, I haven't been doing much. Not on the computer, that is, aside from watching The Dead Zone.
Yesterday, I sat outside with my sister (and had an uncomfortable 'men I had sex with' conversation from her part, but I probably will never discuss what was said with anyone, ever. *shudder*) and played with Tristan. That kid's got a heck of a baseball arm, but is oh so clumsy. Not a day goes by without him getting a bruise the size of an egg smack middle on his forehead, him scraping his arm or even worse, bleeding. Blood is a big no no for a daredevil such as him and he will bawl his eyes out, insist on a bandage instantly 'before I lose my finger' (seriously, Rodney McKay's got NOTHING on this kid. NOTHING. Tristan will be the future's worst hypochondriac in the making.) and then fall into a temper tantrum. So, fair to call him a perfectionist?
But, aside from always almost getting the ball thrown to my head, it was fun. XD.
I am not a big fan of fish and only keep to one kind; fishsticks. It's got no bones, ya know? But yesterday I felt oddly enough brave. Bravery is not my thing, keep in mind. But I ate salmon. I.ate.salmon! And you know, I think I could do it again. But tuna is still not something I want to taste ever again. Or mussels. Or shrimp. Or prawns. Sush, be patient. I'm getting there. I even ate a mushroom or two today, which is astonishing, but ugh, it's goddamn texture.
And while I adore Italian/Sicilian food and will beg my Sicilian Godfather endlessly for the perfect lasagna that he makes and which he's told us that it's his dear 'mama's recipe, I just can't eat spaghetti bolognese. I am yet to come across a variation of it that I've liked, so far. Okay, now that you know that I'm a picky eater, let's move on. (Oh wait. WHY CAN'T I FIND CACAO POWDER IN BELGIUM? ME WANT BROWNIES. Okay, done.)
I've been getting a few offers for games, but I'm in no head space to look through the games right now. Must do that soonish. I finally made a family tree for my Rosiers. And wrote a grand total of ... nothing. I'm cool with all that. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. Dad turned down an invitation from my mom's brother to come and visit, with a free hotel stay. Turned.it.down. (Yeah, the uncle owns a hotel, restaurant and pub, as well as half of the rest of town, from what I hear, and his son, my cousin? Happens to own the other half. Now, that is success. Grandpa would have been proud.) But turned it down, while I miss the family pub and hiking in the hills, or sitting at the lake while the others are shooting clay pigeons and having a BBQ. (Just ... compare it to the US south. It's not that far off.)
Oh well. I'm going to watch The Dead Zone now. Feel free to ping moi if you want to, though.