12.19.2011

wth? it's almost christmas.

Time for the annual wish list. Wait. Did I do a wish list last year? Hm. Apparently not. SO! Not so much of an annual thing. The hell with tradition! Here we go, this years wish list, and there isn't even a doing-crack-over-the-top-expensive thing on it!

The cutest tiny owl pendant EVER. Look at him SCOWL.

Army issue Jungle Boots


Wolves in the Walls by Neil Gaiman



Starbucks Christmas Blend Coffee
See. Nothing outrageous. Although I did leave the expensive boots off the list. Let's just say they were black, heeled and had buckles. Oh hell. Here's the photo.


Off to bed to dream of boots.....

12.05.2011

Wil Wheaton, where art thou?

I have a problem.
Yes, another one. Shut up.
I keep having dreams about Wil Wheaton.
Shut up.
I recently started following him on twitter and I seem to have forgotten over the intervening years just how awesome I always thought he was.
My dreams are in no way inappropriate, unlike the Taylor Lautner/Jacob Black dreams, which were a bit more than vaguely inappropriate.
These dreams are more like being acknowledged by a best friend you never knew you had. And that best friend also happens to be the coolest kid in school. And we hold hands and skip (yes, skip) and smile a lot. It's fun and comfortable. When I wake up and realize that it was just a dream and that Wil Wheaton has no clue I exist I feel deflated. Like being told your best friend suddenly hates you for no reason. Then I think about it all day.
How do I break this cycle? You know, without seeming nuts? I have no desire/talent for being stalkerish. Frankly, that's creepy.
I would make this an open letter to Wil Wheaton but there is always that "doesn't know I exist" barrier.
I would like to actually be friends after a fashion. Hell, I don't even know what that entails. I guess an internet 'friend' would be someone that answers your emails? Knows your name? Stops by(virtually) to say hello every once in a while? None of that sounds right. I guess I am doomed to a life less Wil Wheaton.
And that feels a little...hollow.