Caffeine high...must...write.. paper!

So...I'm in Starbucks frantically working on my paper because I'm supposed to meet Wincze today when I run into a guy I converse with on occasion. I guess all the Diet Coke and coffee I'd consumed made me chattier than usual, and we started up on the blackout. I tell him my brother's home alone and ask him if the power's up yet. He says no, and then starts up with "You know, I bet you it's a terrorist thing". I stare at him blankly, then muster up a polite smile and say "Wow, aren't you cheery". I try to get him to shut the hell up and tell him I was planning on going back down for the weekend (I was, before this happened) and he says "Oh, don't wanna risk it now". Again, blank stare then forced chuckle. He then goes on and on about what might possibly happen.

::deep breath:: You ARSEHOLE!! Way to assuage my fears. Now I know why I avoid you like the plague.


I sure hope Wincze is stuck somewhere without power (pleasepleasepleaseplease). *le sigh*

On a lighter, HOTTER note

Mmmm...( Yowza! )

Meloni...

Mmmm...( Double Yowza! )

Keller and Beecher...

Mmmm...( Sweet Bejesus )

Jude Law...soon-to-be-single...

For a moment, everything becomes clear and the world seems SO right.

Hot damn.

Oh, right. Back to the paper.

Ah me oh my

*sigh*

I've spent the last two minutes struggling to open a package of shiitake mushroom jerky (before you start with the bevy of questions: no, I haven't had it before...yes, I know shiitake mushrooms are mushrooms...yes, I know what jerky is...NO, the word "shiitake" is NOT fall-down piss-your-pants funny; fix your helmet, the strap's come undone), and the frustration at this point basically sums up my day (and the damn package still defeats me - it better be DAMNED good jerky for me to break out the chainsaw). I've been trying to reach Darwent since 10:30 last night and nothing. I can't reach Mom's cell and I don't know his cell number. I can't reach any other relatives in NY. I can't reach NY MTA to find out if the subways are running. I do not intend to foot it across the Midtown Bridge. The MTA website is AWOL (of course).

I want to go home. I'm soooooo worried about this kid. Fuckin' amazing. The folks leave him home alone and then the electricity goes to pot. What is he going to eat? I mean...God. No, I know he's not going to starve (and HELLS NO he's not going to go all Alive on me and eat Krishna) but, nonetheless. *sigh* If I could just get through on the damned phone. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck FUCK.

Wincze was a no-show. Might be my fault, but I doubt it. I scrawled our meeting time down in two places in my planner - the first place (in the front of the book) said 1PM. The second said 12PM. Our usual meeting time is 12, but on Thursdays. So I ran over there at 12 today to find the building doors locked. I rang the bell, got no response, then looked at my planner again. I found the place where I had scrawled 1PM, so I came back to the CIT to pant over pictures of Chris Meloni polish up my work. I'm pretty proud of the way the paper's looking; I do my best work when I'm on the edge of collapse, I suppose. So I go back over there at 1 and meet a locked door again. Actually got there early too (by 5 minutes). I waited 15 minutes then I bolted. I'm fairly certain he specifically said meet on Friday at 1, so perhaps he *did* get stuck somewhere with no electricity. Small favors, eh?

Fuck fuck fuck. Looking at Meloni and Tergesen's not working its magic anymore. Maybe I just need a nap and/or a Xanax.