constance | Ten things about my weekend

My inability to get around to watching the latest season of SPN is bordering on the pathological -- especially since I'm finally starting to get into the fic (well, and it certainly helps kick-start the fic frenzy when someone's feeding you custom recs).

I am now officially fifteen pounds lighter than I was six weeks ago. Also down a pair of jeans, as I mentioned, but my wardrobe is opening up again, which is most satisfying.

After a conversation with one of our staff carpenters (who enthusiastically supported my hankering for a tattoo, and who recommended a parlor), and remembering a little exchange I had with friendly a long time ago, I've decided to reward myself for a certain weight loss goal with a tattoo. For real. For sure. It'll take me a while to get to that goal, but it's nice to have a specific reward in mind for it, even if it's sort of a terrifying one.

My house is much more appealing clean than it is dirty. I knew this already, but you'd think this knowledge would lead to vigilance. In you, it probably does. In me, it does not.

After years of rebellion, I have finally quietly submitted to the dailiness of doing the dishes.

According to Svedka -- and why should I have any reason to doubt the science cred of a Vodkabot? -- This is me, given a future of forking paths, in the year 2033. Kind of gives me a reason to live, don't you think?

Although this photographer does not make me want to learn the tango -- I'm just a hopeless dancer, and my limitations preclude learning the tango without serious injury to myself and others -- he does make me want to have children so I can force them to learn. God, those kids. My heart is breaking into a million pieces on the floor.

Also, I really want most of those shoes.