Saw "The Eye".

QUOTE OF THE DAY!
"What would McKay do....?"
~Major Jonathan Sheppard, considering his options in "The Eye"

1x11 is the greatest SGA episode yet. It's just... wow.

I won't spoil anything, but some things to look forward to if you haven't downloaded this episode yet:

1- Beckett with a P-90. You do the math.
2- Brave!Rodney! Yes, he makes a return!
3- MGS!Sheppard. (MGS = Metal Gear Solid, a hugely popular stealth game) I don't entirely like Shep yet but even I was impressed.
4- The Catfight. And Teyla = Mary Sue Uber.
5- Ford gets a personality! omg! Only he's really mean to poor Carse. Double-ended sword, really.

Get the episode. Emailing me for directions how is a great idea. Or I might post the steps later.

Whoa. I gotta watch it again! *turns 1x11 on again*

~Lucia

God help me...

Important note: This LJ entry was written last night.

Quote of the Night
"`Cuse me please, one more drink
Could you make it strong cause I
I don't need to think.
She broke my heart
My grace is gone
One more drink and I'll move on."
~Dave Matthews Band "Grace is Gone"

So, I'm watching my slightly illegal download of SGA 1x11, "The Eye" (it's the best episode yet, btw), and mother tells me to go to sleep. It's, oh say, 11:15-ish? Sounds about right.

I don't go to bed. I turn out the lights, open up my ten-year-old laptop, find a collection of BecKay lemons I've collected, and tuck in for some bedtime reading. Normal night.

As I'm finishing up the story, I hear a loud, but distant knocking sound. Back door.

I try to ignore it and succeed for about ten minutes. I groan, admit defeat, and head to see what the fuck's going on. I hear her outside, sobbing.

Grandmother.

I'm lucky mom was asleep, because I said every swear word in my vocabulary as I reached the door. I open it, and the sobbing gets louder. I let Grandmother in, and she is obviously shit-faced. No, that's putting it lightly. She's halfway to the moon at this point. I drag her inside, wake up Mom, and go outside in the bitter cold and 11:45 and put away the electro-scooter that serves as her ride. I notice she's lost the recharger on her way back from work/the bar. Fuck. Twenty bucks gone bye-bye.

I lock up the house again and sit by the back door, listening as Grandmother apologizes, Mother trying to make her sleep. This is the third or fourth time in the last two years this has happened. And hate it. I bite my tongue, quite literally, to stop from hurling accusations at her. "Don't you think of anyone else?" and "Do you have two brain cells to knock together?" come to mind. But no, I sit and feel so damn pitiful.

And, God forgive my vengeful soul, I have no pity for her. I really could not care less if she's sorry. Sorry is coming home one or two hours later. Sorry is not coming home six hours late shit-faced for your grandchild to take care of you at nearly midnight when the child in question has two exams in her main classes early next morning!

Jesus Christ almighty, what did I do to deserve this shit?

The moral of this tale: I don't care who's doing it, I'm staying clear of drugs and booze my entire life. I will not end up like the rest of my grandmother. I swear it.

~Lucia