so green

My brother just told me he's going vegetarian, it's a new thing he's trying, some more stuff is said, then some other stuff and anyway:

J: Bottom line is our turkey day will have to have no turkey. How's that sound? ::beams::
Me: ::buries face in pillow::

So, how 'bout it flist? any recs on vegetarian fixings for Thanksgiving? The issue here is the turkey (not that you can find any here, but I was gonna go with chicken like last year), the rest I can manage, I just want something vaguely resembling tradition for once ::heraddesk::

Since we're on the subject, J and the flower boy do not get along at all. Unless they're drunk, then they're potentially nice to each other. But just marginally, blink and you miss it. Fun times.

You know what I love about children? When you tell one of them he's been a good boy today and give him his good boy sticker, he'll wait patiently until his mama comes to see him and the first thing he'll do will be puff his chest out and proudly slap himself over his sticker and say "Look mama, I was good today!" And then, when you leave some four hours later, you'll catch his face through the glass door and he'll still be smiling like a hero.

::loves::

The flower boy was in one of his awesome feminist moods today and finally cave in to me and got himself some Erykah Badu songs for his iPod. He actually tapped his fingers to the beat against the steering wheel. And then burped, but that's not important. What is important is how he can't come up with a decent remark to mock/question Jensen's manhood when presented with this picture, he has a smart-ass comment for every single one of them, but this one leaves him at a loss of words, I blame the MAN!arms, I mean, did you see that WRIST? It's definitely the MANLY arms ::nods::

roguemouse, where the hell are you? silver_spotted, still alive sweety? Haven't heard zip from either of you in like forever. I miss your faces! (not that I've ever seen them, but)

As I sit here, in caffeinated expectation until it's nine o'clock and the world starts spinning around these parts again, it hits me: other than institutionalized mental patients, their somewhat annoying psychiatrist and his (rather lovable) student, and the people I've conned into letting me interview them, I have no social life.

This is why I did not go to med school (aside of the insides-sighting part, of course), I wanted to be able to still, like, talk to people. As in people who did not honestly believe the Queen of England is masquerading in their basement as a rat, which is obviously part of a plan for world domination. Obviously.

Man, even my bf is someone from school/work. Jesus. H. Christ. Dear flist, please to remain awesome. Thank you.

And in the matter of the flist being awesome. I have a rec. Nosce te ipsum by rei_c  is truly an outstanding work of creativity. The style is impeccable and the basic premise is more than a little enticing. What if the Greek Empire had not been defeated, what then? It's RPS but there's no actual slash, pre-slash I think, but it's open enough that if you're not into that kind of thing, you'll still love it because of how true it rings. Jensen is Jensen-ish and Jared is accurately Jared-ish. And then there are secondary characters that have lives and an entire universe that makes things so utupian I found myself wishing this society did actually exist just so I could go gorge myself on their history books and philosophers' views. Seriously, do yourselves a big ol' favor and read it.

I shall go back now, to the flower boy's attempts at changing my worldview on modern medicine. Little boy don't learn.

The best friend produced this article about a math code that had been finally solved after 38 years, and of course there is a reason why this guy is my BFF, he knows me, so he knows that stuff like this attracts my attention in inexplicable ways and for equally ineffable reasons.

Which is all very good, you know, in the spirit of learning and expanding horizons, etc, etc. Except. We dragged my boyfriend into it, and now the three of us find ourselves knee-deep in enemy territory wherein the only form of communication is through meaningful glances that mostly mean: what in the hell is this? Or the variation: why are we spending our saturday night doing this?, although my personal favorite is: why in the name of God am I thinking about this?

We are still trying to figure out whether The Road Coloring Problem actually translates into anything in real words. We refuse to give up, I'm taking this as a sign of extreme hard-headedness (pun probably intended, I'm not sure yet) as well as temporary insanity.

Still.