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+It's possible I just made myself cry while writing a scene. *breaks out the tissues*

+Summer is a lifetime away! Damn you, Leverage! You make me love you with your awesomeness and brilliance and joy and TEAM=DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY OF DOOM, and then leave me to live without you for months on end? WHY?

+Getting bored of Olympics. I *never* get bored of Olympics. What is wrong with me? Hm. Maybe I'd rather be watching Burn Notice. Must get hands on season 2 DVDs.

+I've started saving up Lost episodes rather than watching them as they air. That show is way too annoying to watch in one hour increments. I can appreciate it's awesomeness better in five hour chunks. (Why don't we watch all TV on DVDs instead?)

+Mmmm. Girl scout cookies. I think I'll even forgive them for the high fructose corn syrup. Just this once. *throws thin mints in the freezer*

+What in the world has happened to In Plain Sight, Eureka, Royal Pains, and Lie To Me? Dear network ptb, Making me wait a year between seasons makes me start to forget exactly why I love your show and get distracted by new shiny. Please to be adopting a predictable, regular schedule, m'kay?

+I've been watching White Collar and generally enjoying it. But there is something bugging me about it, like I feel embarrassed about liking it. Can't quite put my finger on it yet, but I'm sure it will seem embarrassingly obvious once I wrap my mind around it.

+If you're into Austen and don't mind WIPs, I'm following a fun fic over at the Pit. Miss de Bourgh in Bath. Darcy's poor cousin Anne de Bourgh leaves Rosings and finally gets her chance to actually, you know, live. Great slow awakening, and gentle evolution of Anne's decidedly warped view of the world when she finally gets to step out of Lady Catherine's dominant shadow. I'm not an expert on historical details of this period, but this fic seems to miss the major pitfalls of most Austen-era romances. At least so far!

+Speaking of Austen, nothing bothers me more than fanfic that hyper-sexualizes this period. I mean, sex between married people, whatever. (Say, Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife) But having Darcy and Elizabeth running around making out in shrubbery when they aren't even engaged, let alone married? No. (I'm looking at you, Abigail Reynolds and your Pemberley Variations.) For me the pull of Austen is the subtlety. The tension drawn so tight and subtle in glances and word play and dances and the flick of the fan. The capacity for minsunderstandings and constraints of propriety and the inability to just be able to say, "Hey, wait. I like you. A lot. Let's go out on a date." There's a place for smut, but I so appreciate the slow burn. So that when one tiny kiss or hand hold at the end finally happens, man do you feel like they've earned it.