Name: Sarah Fawn McLain
Age: 21
Sun Sign: Capricorn
Mood:
E-mail: fawn_chan@hotmail.com
Last Movie Seen Multiple Times in a Theater: The Mummy Returns (3) and Bridget Jones' Diary (2)
Summer Movies Most Anticipated: Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Summer Catch (Marc Blucas AND Christian Kane - and oh yeah, Freddie)

Fixation Links:
Idealist's Haven (X-Files)
Mighty Big TV Recaps
Gossamer Fan Fiction (X-Files)
News Askew (Kevin Smith)
Crashdown (Roswell)
The West Wing Fan Fiction

Favorite Links:
Troublemakers and All Things Naughty
Moodswings
Popgurls.com
Scifi.ign.com
WB Scoop
Hollywood Stock Exchange

Favorite Blogs:
Love, Death . . . Avoid It
Color Outside the Lines
Isn't it Romantical?
The Ego and The Exoteric
De-Evolution Starts Here
Chaos Ocean
Obscured By Clouds
Cheebz
Mako-chan (aka Spatula Girl)
Omega
JunJun
Pallapalla
Inochi
Twilight
Digital Eternity

Other Links:
Pitas.com

Well, I received his response on Saturday morning. It's such a lovely, lovely response, too.

First of all let me say this was a shock because I thought you did not want to talk to me or that you were away because I could be wrong but I thought that I replied to your e-mail. I did not want to bug you because I did not want to open old wounds. When I left california it was really hard for me to do. I had to start over and I knew that it meant putting away the felling I had for you. I still consider you as a really great friend. The question I knew that you ask was why did I never wright until this year. A lot of it was fear. I wanted to remember you the way it was. When I moved and got unpacked I could not find the letter. That was very hard for me because I did not know how to get a hold of you. The only thing I still have is the twite bird you gave to me. Do you remember that. It is on my dresser and I will have that until the day that I die. I want to let you know that I will always think of you. The night that my friend told me about class mates and I say your name. I knew that it was a sign from God that there was my chance to find an old friend. You were different then the people that were at school. My life had changed from that e-mail that I sent you about a month ago. I found someone that is really special to me. She helps me to remember what it was to love again and I do not know what tomorrow will bring but I did not want to hurt you. I know that I hurt you when I did not wright for all those years but I am sorry for that all I can ask is someday I am forgiven. All I can change is the present and as hard as it is for me to tell you this it is even harder for you to read it. I hope that you can find that someone that will bring back the joy into your life. Our paths my cross someday but right now I fell that our goals are different. You want to become a lawyer and nothing should stand in your way. We have our whole future head of us and I hope that we will always be good friends. I am sorry if it seemed that I was not interest in you or what you did. I loved it when you told me what you have been up to because it was good to know that you were still doing great in school. After reading your e-mail I do not know what to say. I never meant to hurt you or any one for that madder. Remember that ture love will find you all you have to do is keep your eyes open. Believe me when I tell you that love will find you. I will always be your friend no madder what. Chris Cox
P.S I still want to keep on talking to you if you want.It is up to you.
LOVE ALWAYS

To conclude this chapter of the Chris saga, I've decided to send him an e-mail about the way I feel. I would love some feedback on this rough draft. I'd like to send it out tonight if at all possible.

Hey,
It’s been a month since I’ve sent the last e-mail and I haven’t heard from you. I guess you just didn’t like what I had to say . . . in that case, you may hate what I have to say now. It’s something that we should have talked about from the beginning instead of me just letting you back into my life. This will hopefully grant me some closure and allow you a chance to understand why I’m as guarded as I am about a relationship with anybody.

That September night at Mamas and Papas pizzeria when we first met and talked – it’s a special moment to me. I honestly cherish that moment. For that night, I had connected with someone on the deeper issues. It was one of the first times I had ever been as honest as I was with you. It was incredibly special and to have shared it with you . . . yeah, I do cherish that night even after everything that came after it. Our friendship was special to me that fall. We were both in the same place, trying to adjust to new schools and new friends. You were my air when I was drowning. I really needed that from someone. Is it really that much of a surprise to you that someone could fall in love with you? You were special, I could see that even as a friend. Band was so enjoyable to me – I could handle anything as long as I could see you every day. But I still saw you as only a friend despite the rumors that were going around to the contrary.

It was that spring when things finally began to change for me. I had had crushes, but love was elusive. I fell deeper and deeper in love with you. There is a lot of truth to the adage about friends and love. With friendship, there is a basis for love to develop and for whatever it’s worth to you, I did develop a love. In your friendship, I could see the person you were striving to be and I admired it. I became insecure and so unsure about a lot of things. I was struggling so hard to figure out what you were feeling if it even closely resembled my feelings and still trying to hold onto the friendship that I enjoyed.

Summer was hard for me, but in a way, it was much easier than that fall. That fall – so much was happening in my life. I was making new friends and adjusting to the fact that you were leaving in June. I had a difficult time with the thought of you in the Navy, but it wasn’t nearly as hard as the thought that I might never hear from you again. I might never have the chance to tell you my true feelings. I spoke a lot about you to Krystina . . . she may not have liked you much, but she always gave me great advice and acted as an amazing sounding board.

Her support was something that I relied on a lot for the next few years, but to get back to the fall, she really helped me in the decision to write the *infamous letter* as I refer to it in my head. What I wouldn’t give for a copy of it . . . you don’t still have it, do you? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Anyway, I poured my heart and soul into that letter. People were very right about first love being bittersweet. I don’t know what I expected from my great revelation, but I honestly didn’t expect it to be ignored except for one very tense conversation. When we returned from Christmas break, it seemed like nothing had changed. It was never discussed though you must have known that it still existed. I was balanced pretty precariously that spring, not quite sure which way to go. It didn’t stop my love for you, far from it, it was just a lot harder to hide since you knew. Watching you graduate was hard though I never expected that the day you left would be the hardest day of my short life. Do you remember the impromptu pool party we had? I hugged you and felt safe even though I was crying and feeling my whole world crumbling.

I gave you my address and phone number and waited for you to call. And waited. And waited. It shattered my already broken heart. I thought we were friends, and it definitely seemed that you felt the same way. I returned to school that fall a wiser person and concentrated on the schoolwork thing. Only Krystina truly understood my pain and she was the only one to know why I was so broken-hearted. She was the person who I cried to about you. And I did cry, rivers of tears, truth be told. Do you know that your breaking my heart pretty much cemented our best friendship? The irony in that . . .

It took me a long time to heal from you. I spent a year and a half, regretting everything that had happened between us, regretting the letter, the way I opened my heart, and the way everything was so unresolved. I met another guy who reminded me a lot of you. He was sweet, and we could talk about everything. Still, it took a long time for me to feel anything even remotely for him. I was numbed to every sensation, but he gradually broke down those walls. I did eventually fall in love with him, but it was something very different from what I felt for you. It was gentle and it was healing, not passionate and painful. I healed most of my heart by loving him, strange as that may sound. It was the same in one very important way – it was unrequited. But while I still reel sometimes from the way things ended between us and I can’t remember the moment I stopped thinking about you as the love of my life, I can remember the moment I didn’t love him anymore. Since then, it’s been more than two years and no one has even entered my peripheral vision. I don’t want to waste any of my heart on a person who isn’t worthy of me. And you and Charlie were the closest thing to worthy at those times in my life. I wasn’t lying when I said that up until about nine months ago, I was obsessed with finding that special someone. I realized then that I didn’t want to go looking for a relationship.

I’m still in a lot of pain from you whether you realize it or not. Because of how I felt about you, I’m leery of approaching the idea of romance with anyone. What happened five years ago – it was something that has affected every decision I’ve made about romance in my life. I’ve never had a boyfriend, still haven’t been kissed, and never been on a date. Am I missing something? Probably but I’m not sure I want to seek it out yet either. If someone really made the effort though to get to know me, I would probably succumb. I want to find romance, too. I just don’t want my whole life to be looking for romance.

Am I the same person that I was five years ago? Not really though several things haven’t changed. I still want to be a lawyer. I still want to get married and have kids. I still have fantasties of the perfect wedding. I’m still saving myself for my future husband. I still like Keanu Reeves movies and think Speed is my favorite movie of his films. I still won’t watch Braveheart because I associate it with you. I still hate the same vegetables that I did when we used to talk about favorite foods. My heart still wonders what might have been, but it also aches at the pain and wonder of remembering you. There’s still a piece of my heart missing from my first heartbreak. The core of me hasn’t changed in an amazingly fantastic way. I’ve just grown up and expanded my interests.

Which brings me to now . . .
When I opened up an e-mail from you, I was (for lack of a better word) very freaked. Hearing from you after five years . . . I didn’t think I would ever talk to you again. I have examined a lot about our previous relationship for the last two months. I have tried to come to terms with everything that happened, and I actually think I have a much better grasp of what happened prior to hearing from you for the first time. I no longer regret anything that happened to me during the time when I knew you and the time after that when my heart couldn’t have been put together by all the king’s horses and all the king’s men. I realize now that I was somewhat selfish to place this emotional love on your head without really a heads-up. Maybe you were turned off by what I felt for you. It couldn’t have been any easier on you. I really don’t know how I would handle someone telling me that they loved me if I didn’t feel the same way.

I didn’t know what to think of your e-mail. I had to re-live a lot of stuff before I even responded that first time. You can actually thank Krystina for that first e-mail. She probably was 90% of the reason I found the courage to e-mail you that first time. I really welcomed your e-mails, but I couldn’t help feeling like we were working at cross-purposes. I must admit here and now that I was hurt by the fact that you didn’t really seem to care much about what I was doing and was only focusing on your life. Now, I’m interested in that as much as anything, but I kind of felt like you weren’t really interested in me. I don’t know where this leaves us. I just know that I had a lot I needed to say to you about your influence. Ultimately, I’m glad you were in my life and I do hope that you would willing to stay, but if you truly feel that I don’t have what you want, I can accept that, too. Please be honest with me though if you do e-mail me. I’m not sure what that last e-mail was talking about, but I hope I explained my own feelings a little better.

As some of you know, the last time I blogged about Chris was way back in April. Most of you knew that I was going to invite him to spend the weekend in Spokane. I did, but he couldn't come because of his dad's birthday, an acceptable excuse in my book. Until May 18th, there was a couple of general e-mails about nothing in particular. Lots of stuff about what we were doing.

On May 18, I received the following e-mail:
So how have you been. I am sitting her friday night and just thinking about life. About how I got were I am today and were I am going. Wondering when I will find that special person. The journey of life. It has no rules and no book to follow. I wonder were it will take me. I think I will get into my car and see were I go. I wish that I could find that special person because that is all I fell I am missing. I look at my life and something is missing, I can live with out it but I realy do not want to. Um life my life. I think I am telling you this because I think that you can understand were I am comming from. I just will that it could to easier. Well I will talk to you later. I think I am going to go out. To were I am not sure. Well I hope to here from you soon. Untill then my your day be as bright and enjoying as mine.

Now I was very surprised and to this day, I'm still not sure exactly what he meant about this whole thing.

The following day, I sent this e-mail:
I've been surviving. I just finished finals this week so I'm relaxing and enjoying my time off. I need to look for a job which will be fun or a nightmare depending on how long it takes for me to find one. I guess I kind of understand where you're coming from in your musings. Nine months ago, I was all about trying to find someone special, especially with my roommates all over each other. It's hard being the third wheel sometimes. Still, I did make the conscious decision to put off a romance. I still have four more years of school so getting involved at all would be problematic and overwhelming. I've gone without a romance for 21 years, and I'm actually kind of content to be single. It would take someone extraordinarily special to make me change me my mind, someone who would love me as much as I would love them. Why should I waste my first kiss and my first relationship on someone who isn't worthy? I'm not sure I'm explaining this well, but it all makes sense in my head somehow. Aren't there any pretty girls at your work? *smile* What exactly are you looking for in a relationship nowadays?

I was actually quite proud of it as e-mails go. It was very to the point without actually breaking his heart (unlike the way he broke mine). And he totally didn't pick up on the one out I left him about someone worthy. Still, I wasn't all that worried until I realized that he wasn't going to respond back. The pig! I kid, of course, but it still kind of hurts that he's that immature.

Okay since nothing interesting has happened since my last blog . . . I still can't sleep, I'm bored, I have no job, etc, I figured I would blog the TV Time stuff and share with you some of my favorite Mighty Big TV X-Files Recaps by Jessica who is an amazing writer.

TV Time: Sadly, there wasn't nearly as many interesting things on yesterday or today. I saw Julie Benz (Darla) on an old episode of Boy Meets World which was very trippy. Lissa and I watched Fear Factor and The Weakest Link - happily enough, both people won that I picked to win. I tried to watch the two X-Files episodes of El Mundo Gira and Roland but fell asleep during them. I understand now why people dislike those episodes so much. I also managed to catch the very last episode of La Femme Nikita. It's sad that she and Michael didn't get a happy ending. It's been three years since I watched the show so it didn't make much sense, but I figured it out afterwards with the help of a good episode guide. Ooh, I found out that J. August Richards (Gunn) was on a first-season episode of West Wing so I went and watched the episode. He only has one line and shows up just long enough to pass through the screen, but it's all good - it's Gunn. *drool*

Recap Highlights (from DeadAlive to Existence)

DeadAlive:
Oh, poor Scully. This whole career-with-the-FBI thing has just turned out for shit. I hope she at least knows a good therapist, because after the sister dying/ abduction/ cancer/ abduction/ disappearance of partner/ pregnant with alien baby/ death of partner story arc, she's going to need someone impartial to talk to. Maybe FOX and HBO can broker a Competition Crossover Event and she can have a few sessions with Dr. Melfi, who at least knows what it's like to deal with someone in an unusual line of work.

Credits. My Mulder action figure pokes me with his little plastic finger. "I am so not dead," he tells me. "I hope you're not going to be talking throughout this entire thing," the Scully action figure says. "You've gotten to talk all damn season," he retorts. "I've had, like, two lines." The Scully figure sniffs, "And whose fault is that?" I finally have to sit between the two of them to shut them up.

Lush Basement Office. The camera pans past Scully's gigantic belly as she stands at the filing cabinet. Frankly, she's looked better. I'm not talking about the weight: I mean the clothes. She's wearing this hideous navy blue sweater set, and it just doesn't do her any favors. I know, I know, it's like she's wearing widow's weeds, I get it, but please, she's looked smashing all season, and I'd hate to see it all go downhill just because her true love, best friend, and the possible father of her baby has fallen dead out of the sky. There is no excuse for dowdiness. This message has been brought to you by Pea in the Pod: Maternity Wear for Stylish Moms of Alien Babies.

Skinner: What do you want from me?
Krycek: Let's take a ride.
Me and the Action Figures, in unison: [girlish twittering] Okay!

Okay, grossest scene ever. Ever. Nothing you say can convince me that this is not Chris Carter paying me back for all those times I called him a hack. Those of you who saw the episode can just remember what happened, and those of you who missed it can say a quick prayer of thanks to the deity of your choice right now. Long story short: Billy Miles wakes up, removes his respirator and gets out of bed. He then takes a shower and washes away all his dead skin - for, like, twenty minutes -- while I vomit.

Write that down: Doggett is a nice guy. We all love Doggett. Doggett will be our touchstone next season when Mulder and Scully are off in the Cayman Islands, bodysurfing and taking tequila shots and playing patty-cake with their strangely complected and preternaturally strong alien baby.

The swelling Violins of Love That Even Those of You Who Think Mulder and Scully Are Just Friends Have to Admit is Present in This Scene, in the Acting, if Not the Writing, Although I Personally Think It's in Both takes us to the final credits. The Mulder action figure crawls over my lap and throws himself at the Scully figure with a giant wrenching sob. They embrace and cry big plastic action-figure tears of joy.

Three Words:
Man, I was so stoked when the movie came out, back when I felt like the plot on this show was actually moving toward some kind of revelation instead of just in concentric circles of pain and confusion. The action figures and I were so happy then. We had direction. We had purpose. We even had little plastic flashlights and cell phones, neither of which we can find now. Our lives are in shambles, people!

Her hair, by the way, is looking very season seven. I wonder whether Gillian Anderson's sympathetic hairdresser has abandoned her; running off to rub jar after jar of gel into David Duchovny's head, laughing at his dry witticisms and pretending to understand what he's talking about when he starts explaining the thesis he was working on before he dropped out of his PhD. program to act, and leaving Gillian to wait and wait and wait and wait for a little attention, leafing idly through The National Enquirer, her tea growing colder and colder and her hair getting flatter and flatter. It's shameful! He's supposed to look bedraggled!

And God knows Scully can't run the investigation, because she has nothing to do with the X-Files and is, besides, just a weak woman, useful only as an incubator for the baby that will, I fear, prove to be some kind of second coming, because, you know, Mulder is already the Christ figure with the whole died/resurrected thing we all just went through, and Scully is the Virgin Mary character, because she's all mysteriously pregnant, except she doesn't have any of the authority that the Virgin gets, at least in Catholicism, because Chris Carter has developed some kind of issue with women.

Empedocles:
Her [Monica] hair is way too dark, by the way. There's no depth whatsoever to her dye job, which makes me suspect that while the hairdresser on set might be neglecting to poof Gillian Anderson's hair as much as she used to, now that Duchovny's back, she's at least making sure that Scully's the prettiest girl on the whole show. That's something. And I think she's in cahoots with the makeup guy, because Monica really really really needs some lipstick right now. Before they shot this episode, the two of them probably drove over to The Cat and the Fiddle in the make-up guy's '96 Miata and, over several pints of Bass, mapped out their scheme to keep Gillian Anderson as good-looking as possible, in spite of their reduced ability to poof her hair and line her lips.
Hairdresser: But what about David?
Makeup Guy: He's already good-looking. Besides, he's making enough money. He can gel his own damn hair.
Hairdresser: True, true. Okay, so I'm going to dye Annabeth's hair an unattractive and cheap-looking dark brown...
Makeup Guy: ...and I'm not going to put any color on her face at all.
Hairdresser: So even though we can't spend as much time with Gillian as we did earlier this season...
Makeup Guy: ...she'll still look fabulous in comparison!
Hairdresser: We're fucking brilliant.
Makeup Guy: Shit, we forgot about Mitch!
Hairdresser: He's not in this episode. All I have to do is buff the top of his head, anyway.

The Mulder action figure pokes me with a hard plastic finger. "Are we getting a Monica to come live with us?" he asks. "Because Scully and I took a vote, and we're totally opposed. There's not enough room on the top shelf." I tell the Mulder that I don't think I could get a Monica if I wanted one.

Scully looks at the sofa and spies the gift. "Nice package," she says. Mulder looks down and tries to keep a straight face. "Thank you," he smirks. Hee! "I love jokes about my giant man tool," the Mulder action figure says from his perch on my left knee. The Scully figure smacks him, hard.

Oh, Mulder's at the crime scene, too, in his blue shirt, with the sleeves all rolled up. My action figure is wearing a blue shirt, too. We love the blue shirt!

Mulder places his hand on her massive belly and smiles at her. She smiles back. The action figures and I sniff. They gaze moonily at one another. People, this is lurve!

I'm going to take a sidebar for a little recap within this recap. I got a videotape in the mail last week, from an anonymous source at FOX. The contents of that tape pertain to the scene we just saw. It's security tape from inside Gillian Anderson's trailer, and it's top secret, so keep this under your hat. A big thank-you to my source, whoever you are. The tape opens up with Gillian sitting on her sofa in a kimono, her hair in giant Velcro curlers, reading a dog-eared book called Take Them to the Cleaners: A Guide to Successful Contract Negotiations. There's a knock at the door. She lets in David Duchovny, who must have just gotten out of makeup, because he still has a Kleenex stuck between his collar and his chin. He's holding a copy of the script.
Gillian Anderson: David, what happened? You look awful.
David Duchovny: What the hell is going on here?
Gillian Anderson: You mean with the script? I know.
David Duchovny: Are we in love? Am I the father of your baby? Do we even know who the father of the baby is? Have we had sex? What the fuck?
Gillian Anderson: I know.
David Duchovny: How the hell am I even supposed to play this scene? Am I jealous? Am I happy? Are we getting married? I have no idea what my motivation is, here.
Gillian Anderson: I know.
David Duchovny: I ask him all this in front of craft services this morning, and he's all "do what you think is best." What the hell kind of direction is that?
Gillian Anderson: I know.
David Duchovny: Look, obviously we just have to make the call ourselves and fucking go with it. I say we're in madly in love, we've been doing it like crazy the whole time I wasn't buried alive and I'm the father of the baby and that's it!
Gillian Anderson: Fine with me.
David Duchovny: Nice hair, by the way.
Gillian Anderson: Thanks.
David Duchovny: [looking at her book] Hey, I read that one.

The gift is an antique doll, which, coming from the Mulder family, is probably cursed. Nevertheless, Scully is thrilled. "That's the other gift that you gave me, Mulder," Scully says. "Other than his sperm?" North America screams at the television. They stare at each other. "Courage," she says, "to believe." Oh, that. Whatever. She hopes she can pass that on. To the baby. Her baby. Their baby. Oh, who the hell knows anymore?

Vienen:
Credits. The action figures inform me that they don't think they're going to watch this episode. "The Sopranos is on," the Scully points out. But I only have one TV with cable reception, and I'm bigger than they are. Also, they got me into this. I'll be damned if I'll let them leave me alone with it.

Dude, when did I become a Doggett apologist? "I don't like this new development in your character at all," the Mulder action figure says sharply, from his perch on my right knee. The Scully looks up from her book, a dog-eared copy of The Autobiography of F.B.I Special Agent Dale Cooper: My Life, My Tapes. "You know who I like?" she asks. "This guy. I think he'd make an excellent partner for Agent Doggett, when it comes to that. He has all that experience with, you know, weird stuff. And he's so good-looking!" The Mulder action figure clears his throat. "Sorry," the Scully says, not at all contritely.

Back at the FBI, Scully is performing yet another autopsy. The FBI's going to be screwed when she's on maternity leave, because, apparently, they have no other employee capable of running an autopsy.

Dude, Mulder, I love you, but...don't hang up on the pregnant lady. "Cut us a little slack here," the Mulder action figure says. "Being buried alive is really traumatic."

"I got fired. I'm 86ed, Agent Doggett," he says. Out of the FBI entirely.
Doggett: Huh?
The World: What?
The Mulder action figure: Excuse me?
The Scully action figure: Heh.

Alone:
I wonder exactly how much information Mulder and Scully had to attach to those travel reports. I can see the expense reports now: "Breakfast with alien abductee: $15.78. Gas: $19.23. Getting anally probed: Priceless."

He explains that he's knowledgeable about baby stuff because he's been spending his days watching Oprah, which is a total lie, because I know he's sitting around, taking notes on What To Expect When You're Expecting, while watching Passions out of one eye, and then feeling totally cheated because everyone on Passions this week is either having sex or talking about having sex or trying to talk people into have sex with them and he never gets to have any sex. "Word," crabs the Mulder action figure.

Autopsy Room. Enter Mulder. Special Agent Dana "Maternity, LEAVE!" Scully is doing another freaking autopsy, this time on Grandpa. She's being assisted by a young woman, who looks up, sees Mulder, and beats a hasty retreat. I'm sure the FBI gossips are just aflame, wondering whether Mulder is the father of Scully's baby. "Seems like old times. You in scrubs, slicing and dicing," Mulder says, shrugging his hands into his pockets. "What are you doing here, Mulder?" Scully asks. Wow, she's cranky. No "hello, honey." No "what happened on Oprah this afternoon?" No "hey, there, father of my child, what's the haps?" Mulder explains that he snuck away during a tour of the facility, and flips his "visitor" badge at her. He'd like to know what she's doing there, instead of relaxing at home and providing a warm, safe environment for their alien baby. Scully tells him that she found something that may prove helpful in the search for Doggett. Mulder just stares and listens. He looks bored. I'm totally missing Makeover Monday right now, he thinks.

On the other end of the phone, Scully continues to call his name. I'd like to teach the two of them a new word: it's called "goodbye," and it's how people indicate that they're done with a phone conversation. Accepted substations include "later," "bye-bye," "I have to go now," "adios," "aloha," and "I'll see you at home for some hot monkey love, Hot Pants."

Essence:
The action figures and I had a bit of an unfortunate accident this afternoon. I was cleaning the apartment and I removed them from the top shelf of the bookcase, where they live, so I could dust. And in the middle of the dusting, the phone rang, and it was my friend C and we had a very illuminating discussion about why the stupid Survivor casting people haven't called us yet, and how, perhaps, it has something to do with the fact that neither of us were able to speak in complete sentences when we made our audition tapes. Then I hung up and I washed the dishes and had a bologna sandwich, and then I sat down to watch Part One of the Two-Part Season Finale of The X-Files, starring David Duchovny, and I looked up at the bookshelf and they were...gone. Not on the shelf. Not on the floor. Not on the desk by the bookshelf. Not on the little white table I rescued from the alley last week and painted myself. Nowhere. It was like they'd just...disappeared. Turns out they'd fallen into the crevice between the bookcase and my desk. When I finally fished them out, they were all covered in dust, and now they're not speaking to me, the little brats. They won't even sit on my knee to see The Season's Greatest Mystery Revealed. So, just to sum up, I have: no job; no boyfriend; no action-figure love. It's a damn sad state of affairs.

Shower. Where'd Scully get all these female friends? Did Mama Scully hire them? Because if Scully invited all of her friends to this shindig, the guest list would be Mulder, Skinner, Doggett, the Lone Gunmen, probably Moronica (because, remember, Scully "likes" her) and maybe that chick from last week who was helping her in the lab, and the baby would get, like, a tiny black leather jacket, and a laptop, a set of rappelling cords, maybe a microscope, a small handgun, and maybe some porn. And a goldfish or two. The women from Hire-A-Friend ooh and ah as Scully opens a package containing a little blue doll and a little pink doll.

What would be best, I think, would be if Scully and Doggett and Mulder all joined forces in some kind of Three's Company-type of supernatural dramedy hour. Toss in the AlienMiracleBaby and Moronica and Skinner, as Doggett's Mr. Furley-esque boss/ lover/ landlord, and just watch the hijinks ensue!

A small, grossed-out squeal of terror escapes me, in spite of myself. "Scared, is she?" the Mulder mutters from across the room. "She deserves everything she gets," the Scully replies. They simultaneously shoot me dirty looks.

Scully's slumped in a chair, her hand over her eyes. What the hell have I gotten myself into, she wonders. Why the hell didn't I get out of the damn X-Files when I could? Stupid Mulder and his stupid tight ass.

"Please, don't kill off Skinner. Please, don't kill off Skinner. Please, don't kill off Skinner," I chant. The action figures eye me in what might be termed a sympathetic way, but they turn away as soon as they see me looking at them.

Existence:
Dear Action Figures,
I don't know what else you expect from me. For the umpteenth time, I had no idea you were trapped between the bookcase and the desk. Is there any way we can put this behind us and move on? By the way, I really didn't appreciate that little stunt you played last night. Do you know how hard it is to get ink out of cashmere? Shape up, or you're going on eBay. I mean it.

On the other other hand, I don't think Chris Carter is much of a Biblical scholar, either, and nothing shows that more clearly than this current plot line. I beg you, writers, if you're going to steal from the Bible -- and there's nothing wrong with that, because writers do it all the time -- at least read the Bible first so you rip it off correctly.

Mulder stands over his bed, thinking that he's always standing over someone's bed, feeling guilty about something and wondering why he didn't become an accountant, or a copywriter, or a bricklayer, or an English teacher instead of getting into a profession wherein he ended up getting his own reserved parking spot at the hospital.

"Dana," Moronica begins. "Stop calling me 'DANA'!" the Scully action figure screams at the television, and then looks over at me and allows herself a small smile. The two of them think they're so tough, but I think the eBay threat has scared the action figures into considering commuting my sentence.

"Go ahead, I got Krycek," Mulder says. "I'll bet you do," the world mutters.

From their perch over at the bookshelf, my Mulder and Scully action figures look at each other and then at me. They sort of nod at each other and crawl off the shelf and onto the floor and make their way across the room and crawl up my legs and haul themselves onto my knee. It takes twenty-five minutes. "Krycek is dead?" the Mulder asks shakily. "As far as I know," I reply. "I didn't expect that to happen," the Scully says. "Life is so short," the Mulder sighs, his tiny puff of breath ruffling my arm hairs. He and the Scully exchange looks. "Can we watch the rest of the episode here?" she asks, patting my knee. And that's the story of how the action figures and I patched things up and I didn't have to sell them on eBay. Sometimes it takes the blood of a sweaty, sexy, mostly-evil operative to wash away the petty sins of a pair of action figures and a possibly delusional recapper.

The baby cries. The Scully action figure tugs at my jeans. "Is the baby green?' she asks quietly.

I don't have much to blog about today. It was a quiet day at home and I enjoyed it greatly. Just what I needed to put myself back in the mood for job hunting. Jason and I stayed up pretty late last night/this morning talking about politics. What else would I talk to him about? It turns out we agree on a few more things. I personally think he's more middle-of-the-road than he thinks he is.

My sleeping schedule is all funky again. It's starting to piss me off that I can't actually sleep at decent hours. Waking up in the afternoon isn't going to help me find a job any easier. And I have to pay $200 in rent in about two weeks and I have no idea where it's coming from.

I'm a little disappointed that I can't find any of my stuff about Clique Happy. I actually have a desire to work on web design and it would be very beneficial to work on it before I lose interest again. So I'm pretty much in a "D'oh" sort of mood.

TV Time: X-Cops was actually pretty good though I'm not feeling the 'shippiness that's supposed to be present in Season 7 of The X-Files. We watched Headliners and Legends: Ben Affleck. It was superb with lots of Kevin Smith goodness (although no mention of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back). I realized that I have actually seen most of his movies. I think Glory Days, Pearl Harbor, and Boiler Room may be the exceptions. For some bizarre reason, I thought he had done more movies. He looked really different as a kid though. Melissa and I also had what basically amounted to a movie marathon tonight. There were a lot of good movies on cable tonight. We watched back to back Adam Sandler movies and a Drew Barrymore movie. Strangely enough, I saw The Waterboy and Home Fries the same weekend freshman year. They were pretty good the second time around though Home Fries is a trip and a half, but Luke Wilson is cute. The other Adam Sandler movie was Billy Madison, and it was the first time I had seen it. It had Bradley Whitford (who is just as cool as the bad guy as he is as the good guy on West Wing), but his blond hair really freaked me out. Partway through the movie, I really started wanting him to win - I know it was unrealistic, but hey, he was much less annoying than Adam Sandler and he had actually worked hard for the company.

Lalalala, I suppose I had better actually use this blog . . . unlike my last one. Ooh, my sleeping schedule started getting better. I actually went to sleep by 2 a.m. last night and woke up before noon. It doesn't look like I'm going to get anything done though today. Hopefully, we at least get to the store though for milk and butter and bread. Sometimes (like now), it sucks to live independently.

Lissa-chan wa silly desu. I love the Senshi Soup layout though. I'm looking forward to seeing what else you do with it. Maybe your creativity will rub off on me (at least beyond this blog layout - hey and I didn't use the David Duchovny wearing only a teacup pic) so I will actually feel like doing the five dozen or so websites in my brain. And then you had to get me started reading other blogs . . . you know, I fully blame you. *wink*

TV time: Just to share again, I adore cable. I watched much TV yesterday in order to relax. X-Files episode was good albeit rather strange. What a sad way to end the whole Mulder looking for Samantha arc! Just imagine, she's been playing in the Meadow of Dead Children the whole time he's been searching for her. I understand now why people thought this episode was so stupid. It's okay though . . . tonight I get to see the episode where COPS meets The X-Files - *heralding trumpet* it's X-Cops. *grin* I saw my second episode of Sports Night last night. It's intriguing but not nearly as good as West Wing. Perhaps, it's just my political snobbery speaking, but I definitely like West Wing better (only three more months until third season). I watched a crapload of VH1 last night including Cheers and Jeers II, Name That Video (my God, do people actually know these videos?), and Hit This. I wasn't very impressed with Hit This - the bands were definitely more Melissa's speed than mine.

Album of the Moment: The Whole Shebang by Shedaisy
Notable lyrics:
You always said that I have multiple personalities
I bounce around somewhere between my dreams and reality
So where'd you dig up the audacity to ask me
How we've all been doing
Since you broke our hearts
(Well, so far)
Chorus
Number 5 just cries a river a minute
7 wants to tie you up and drown you in it
Yeah, 14 just wants to say so long, bygones
32 wants to do things to you that'll make you blush
10 would key the El Camino that you love so much
And there ain't nobody wants to mess with 23
Oh, lucky 4 you tonight I'm just me
I guess this party's more than your new Barbie bargained for
She's got you by the sleeve, slowly easing towards the door
She's probably right, you should be movin' on
Don't know how long we can behave
Better have the valet get your car
('Cause you know how women are)
(Reapeat Chorus)
Bridge
Forgiveness is the key
According to my shrink
But, it's not just up to me
(I don't know girls, what d'ya think?)
(Repeat Chorus 3x)
Lucky 4 You (Tonite I'm Just Me)
Written By Kristyn Osborn, Jason Deere & Coley McCabe

I'm ever so tired of not sleeping right. It's starting to kill me slowly. And we won't even get into my depression about not finding a job. Having to ask my dad for money on Tuesday was painful - I've done everything in my power not to cry at all about this situation, but I had the hardest time not crying before going to talk to him. I almost fell apart in front of Melissa. I don't know what to do about finding a job. Emrys suggested a temp agency and I'm beginning to think that's the only way to go especially since none of my references seem to have nice things to say about me. Melissa has had so many more interviews than me; I'm kind of jealous - it's just that I actually have the retail experience. Sadly, no one seems to be hiring a person whose best experience was a yearbook editor-in-chief.

Still, let's move away from that icky topic. We have CABLE! For the first time in three years, I can watch TV that doesn't rely on an antenna. The installation guy was a dunderhead, but I managed to fix it so we can have cable until the other guy comes to drill a hole in our wall. I gorged myself on TV last night. From 8 p.m. to 3 a.m., I was in a blissful place. I got to see two more X-Files episodes that I hadn't seen (I can already tell that FX is a great reason to pay my share of the bill). And I got to watch the first episode of The Beast on ABC which is a phenomenal series. It's too bad there are only six episodes. Jason Gedrick is gorgeous! *drool* He's totally going on the lust list. By the way, this layout is in honor of my current obsession of the X-Files.

Survivor at the TAATN board is going really, really well. I'm totally excited about it. It's part of the reason why my spirits have been so high lately. I'm enjoying my role as hostess though I kind of hope someone will take over so I can play the next time around. The two tribes - I don't know what to do with them. I think I've basically figured out who is allying with who in the game. I'm having a tough time finishing up the blog for Survivor though.