"Yeah, Fez. Foreigners aren't allowed to drive cars in this country, unless it's a cab."

Did another paid psych experiment, have 3 more scheduled for next week. I also got money in the mail today, as in actual money for actual work. Holy shizzy! $$$! Wound up running around afterwards getting apps for some grunt work-ish off-campus jobs--I figure that, since I will eventually need a new second job, I might as well try to get one that I can actually *keep* once I'm no longer a student.

And, because I was soliciting stores at Oakway Center for job apps, I stopped briefly at Old Navy, because I thought I might get a job. Yeah, granted, I've vowed never to shop there solely based on the fact that I hate their commercials with a fiery passion, and I don't believe in rewarding such phenomenally bad advertising. But just because I work there doesn't mean I have to shop there, right?

Well, let me tell YOU, I walked into Old Navy today, and it was the most disturbing 60 seconds of my LIFE. All the employees looked like they belonged to some freaky Abercrombie & Crotch cult, and were sporting these brightly-colored, incredibly preppie Old Navy uniform shirts, *everyone* was wearing a fscking headset for no discernible reason that I could find, and the decor of the place was all flashing and blinking and so freaking cheerful that it was just plain CREEPY.

At that point, I decided I wasn't quiiite that desperate for extra money, and bolted for the exit.

I went to the soft cloth car wash on Coburg later on--it's much nicer on my finish than the little brush wash at the Texaco. I came home and waxed the ride after that, which was kind of a pain in the ass, but at least it's done now. Shiny! <3

Nothing else on tap today... probably going to just kick back for the evening, and maybe do some freelance or internshippy bits later on, if this headache goes away.

::poof::

ASDFKSDFLKAHSDFHSASDKFHKL

Right, so apparently my overlong rant about the book signing did not exactly go quietly into the night, because apparently Wil, himself, found it and read it. And then sent it to his wife.

ADSKFASDLFKAHSFLKASHDLKH JESUS CHRIST HOW DID THEY FIND ME

Er, ahem. ^^;;;

I have to say that I'm astounded that my Livejournal made it into their reading queue, because, man, am I a boring sack of whatever, most of the time! ::rotfl:: Yeah, I guess I had my own little flirtation with internet fame, back when I was a sad, sad creature with no life, and we were all still hyped about being "Elite Sailormoon Webmasters." (cue vomit) But these days? I'm pretty small potatoes. Hell, I'm one of those cute baby red potatoes that fits in your mouth whole.

But they *liked* my post? Anne called me a good writer?? Agh! Jeezy Creezy! Granted, I probably should have expected this, given that I am now vaguely embarassed for having written some of those things, and it's certainly my luck to be caught in the act of brazen, retarded fandom. ::laughs:: And I was once very excited at the prospect of being a writer, before the School of Journalism sucked the life out of that idea. But still, I'm surprised.

ANYWAY! I guess, on the very off-off-off chance that they're reading this:
Wil: Yes, you're still cute, although the sheer force of your geekery ups the ante quite a bit, from where I'm standing. :)
Anne: You are so cool! Gaw, I am flabbergasted. And let me also say: if, in some alternate universe, it were me, and some crazed fanboy was schpieling about how he's had the hots for me since he was twelve and saw me on his favorite TV show, *my* S.O. would probably start sharpening his axe. Thank you for not following his example. :)

And yes, the good lord loves a guy who loves his Chuck Taylors. I've always liked them, even if my freakishly large feet don't look so great in them. I'll probably be buying them by the truckload in my next life, when my feet are much cuter and smaller. ;p

And now, since we're kind of on the topic, a wee vignette from the signing that I forgot to mention, since I'll probably edit/re-write the whole business for my lame, mold-tacular website:

--------------------------------
As I stood in line, one of the first few ladies to have her book signed asked for a picture, and knelt down by Wil to get a smokin' fan photo. After the photo, as she got up and took her leave, a terribly chatty girl in front of me yelled, "You should have kissed her!" And yes, she was probably just kidding around, but god, what is he, a politician?

In response, Wil made a mock-angry face, and yelped back, "HEY! I only kiss Mrs. Wheaton!"

I piped up with "Good man!" and cast a pointed look back at James, who later admitted to me that Wil won some points with him for that bit... James can respect a guy who's loyal to his lady. :)
---------------------------------

Of course, you realize now that if I were ever to decide to become some kind of undercover operative, sent out to undermine the government at large, the authorities would find me in like 20 minutes. *Maybe* 30, if they stop for a donut break at Dunkie's.

And, I'm spent.