(No Linkin Park in this entry (well, apart from this line), but I might stick with Linkin Park lyrics in my entry titles for a while, as a small tribute.)
Last night I dreamt that Connor and Michaela from How to Get Away with Murder had sex, because Michaela was complaining that her boyfriend couldn't get her off and, well, Connor is gay, but he does like a challenge.
I'm now really sad that I can't write this on three different levels (I can't write sex, I can't write the characters and it would get me into terrible trouble with the fandom), because I desperately want it to exist. I could actually see it happening; they get along very well, they've been through such intense things together that they're well beyond 'can't make weird propositions in case it damages our friendship', and I really wouldn't put it past Connor to suggest it.
I probably shouldn't rewatch How to Get Away with Murder for the sole purpose of writing something that's going to make a lot of people very angry with me.
Here are the stupidest events from this weekend:
- My mum could barely get out of bed on Saturday. Apparently she'd had trouble sleeping the night before, so she'd taken two Natrasleep tablets - but, whoops, turned out that actually she'd accidentally taken some epilepsy medication that was lying around instead. Nobody in the family has epilepsy. I don't understand how this happened. (She is fine.)
- We drove out to my aunt and uncle's house to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. At one point, my uncle called for silence and began making a speech about their marriage to the sixty or seventy assembled guests. He had failed to notice that my aunt was not present at the time. She showed up halfway through his speech and wasn't terribly impressed.
- There wasn't enough space in the house, so a fair few of the guests, me included, had to camp in the pouring rain. (Camping is horrendous and I am owed a personal apology from whoever invented the commercial tent, thus leading people to think it was somehow acceptable.) At four in the morning, lying in my tent, I heard voices outside; apparently one of my cousins had got rather drunk and forgotten which tent was his. 'Is this your tent, this little one here?' asked the exasperated other cousin trying to guide him. 'Is this your tent?'
- Eventually, my cousin found his tent and crawled in, and then I heard very annoyed voices and an odd hissing noise. It turned out the next day that he'd somehow immediately deflated the air bed his girlfriend was sleeping on.
- We ran out of petrol on the way back and got stuck on the side of the road for an hour. Apparently our petrol gauge is broken, so my dad was just guessing how much petrol we had left, and his guesswork was not spot-on. A policeman showed up and said that one of us had to get into his car, but he wasn't clear on why. It felt like we were being arrested for poor planning. The police just ended up towing us onto a slightly less busy road (rather than actually usefully towing us to a petrol station), but I still don't understand why my brother had to be in the police car.
- Once we'd got home, my mum told me a story that delighted me: apparently, my aunt's parents did not approve of her relationship with the ruffian who would later marry her and become my uncle. One day, my aunt smuggled my uncle into her bedroom at her parents' house. When they heard her father approaching, my uncle hid in the wardrobe. Her father entered the room, immediately opened the wardrobe and said, 'Who do you think you are: James Bond?'