I'm writing Disney RPF. I knew it would happen eventually. Have the first two scenes, purely because I'm proud of myself for writing again.

( they know your a Jersey boy (the way you talk like that) )

I just counted up all of my hours here at the Courier-Post, and realized that I'm done. I've fulfilled my 80 hour requirement; a little bit more, actually, clocking in at 85 hours. Now I'm filling out my review and doing the mandatory paper trail wrap-up.

Honestly, where the hell did time go?

At least I'm all freed up for end of semester papers and final exams, I guess. I really wasn't ready for this to be over though. I never did get to follow a reporter around, or a photographer, and I haven't been to a staff meeting since my first day. I just...I feel kind of cheated, like I didn't get the whole experience. But me being here now 5 hours over 80 is already illegal, so.

Spilled milk.

Hey f-list. Wanna help me out?

For my mom's Christmas present, I'm putting together a cookbook. I have things like my grandpop's fried chicken and chicken paprikash and our favorite zucchini cake recipe, but I'm falling short of my goal of getting it expansive enough to be of use. I'd love it if you guys could contribute your family, or even your own unique recipes. I'll be grateful for pretty much anything.

If you want to give me a hand, just leave a recipe in a comment. Put the recipe name in the subject line, and leave one recipe per comment if you decide to be super-awesome and contribute more than one.

All comments will be screened, so please don't hesitate to attribute your real names to the recipe.

Was going to go to bed before I realized that I forgot to turn the dryer with my comforter and sheets in it on. Guess I'll read the new EW instead. Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes yes please.

I'm getting majorly, majorly excited about the up-coming season of Big Love. I started watching the show last winter after my dad got me hooked on it and although Showtime has been pretty good to me with Dexter, Big Love is my favorite. Maybe it's because it hits my sex and religion kink...

January 10thhhhhhhhh.

I like to take my shoes off under my desk. Makes me feel like a little kid.

Last night I wrote this. If I bothered to backdate this entry it would be around 1:30 a.m. My handwriting gets extra loopy when I'm drunk. My grammar is surprisingly good, though:

I knew I had things to do when I cracked open that damn bottle of Kahlua. I knew it, and I went and drank most of the bottle on my own anyway. Now I'm sitting here, wishing that my box of pop tarts wasn't so empty.

Amanda Malamut, you need to stop plying my with hazelnut-flavored liqueur.

Then again, your confession that I'd be the one out of our group of friends that you'd sleep with is kind of flattering.

I also apparently wrote a play list for...something. Songs that makes me happy? Songs that make me feel zen? I don't know, but it's got some Jonas Brothers songs, some Stone Temple Pilots, and Mika all mixed in together with Demi Lovato and Led Zeppelin. I don't even have an ipod, so it was pretty much all wishful thinking, I think. Was I planning on getting Roxy to make me a cd?

( It goes a little something like this: )

Oh yeah, we were super classy last night. Tuesday night. Who gets drunk on a Tuesday night? Really, Jess? Really?

This whole school thing is so not kosher with me today. And I need to steal some food from home so I don't starve or, worse, spend money that I don't have buying lunch on the way to the Courier-Post on Tuesday. And Thursday.

I'm. so. broke.

I just counted 41 icons featuring Joe Jonas in my userpic arsenal. 22 of them are of Joe alone. And I'm waiting on a new one that I won in a contest.

( Look, it's not my fault he's beautiful, okay? )

And that's not even counting all of the ones I have that aren't on my journal, and a couple that have a weird format when I try to save them to my computer. I also have a bunch more saved on my laptop, the downstairs computer, and in my files at school. I mean, I do have a good amount of Nick icons (he tends to make appearances in icons with Joe) and maybe a couple of Kevin: that other JoBro.

Clearly, I play favorites. Clearly

I'm so used to html coding in my lj posts that I keep trying to italicize words in my essay by typing out the >i< <i/< code. But I don't do it when I try to bold things. What's up brain?

Winter depresses me.

I'm not an early riser by nature. 11 o'clock in the morning seems to be what my body generally accepts as a good time to wake up and have some coffee, but believe me when I tell you that I can sleep longer than that. In the summer when the days are long and lingering well into the nine o'clock hour, sleeping until one in the afternoon doesn't feel like a waste because I know that I have eight hours of light ahead of me.

Winter though...

Once daylight savings hits, suddenly the sun is gone four hours after I wake up. And it makes me want to go to sleep again, not even twelve hours after waking up.

Tomorrow, I need to not fall into this trap. I need to keep my blinds open and let the sunlight pull me out of sleep. I need to not turn off my alarm when it goes off at nine a.m. tomorrow and curl up with my blankets and hazy self-indulgent morning-hour logic for another two hours. Because I'm taking off from my internship for a reason. I have things that need to get done.

It's going to be a long day; it needs to be a long day.

Last night, I volunteered to go and pick up my brother from a Halloween party. Me and my sister get to the VFW Hall where its being held and text him that we're waiting out side. Ten minutes later I finally get a text that says he and his friend are at the Wawa, can I come get him. And I'm like yeah, sure, that's right around the corner, no problem.

Turn round the corner and a through the red light and there's my brother on the corner in his costume- a black, silver, and purple shiny dress. He lost his pointy witch hat somewhere in the party. It's raining and he has no coat.

Pull up to the corner and step on the breaks. My sister gets out and opens the door so he can get in the back. Cop car turns the corner behind me, pulls around us and keeps on going, ignoring my brother the shady underage male prostitute.

Highlight of my whole freaking weekend.