What is hysterical to me is that they are comparing pictures of people who ARE CLEARLY THE SAME PERSON, and noting the differences!

I love imagined expertise. My favorite is from people who are frequently yelling about how fake an accent is when they really know nothing about accents and the actor (Glenn Quinn, Jane Leeves, et al) is actually from the country in question. Also people who think they can parse plastic surgery while never taking into account differences in makeup, lighting, or camera angles.

Woo hoo, sara! May the rest of the day proceed just as well.

My favorite is from people who are frequently yelling about how fake an accent is when they really know nothing about accents and the actor (Glenn Quinn, Jane Leeves, et al) is actually from the country in question.

I can generally spot when someone is faking an accent, but I'm not too good at identifying what accents are. There's just something a little bit weird about how people form sounds when they're thinking about the sound rather than the word. Maybe it's because I was in speech therapy for a long time as a kid, so I started paying a lot of attention to how people make different sounds. When Glenn Quinn was on Roseanne when I was a kid, I immediately said, "That's not his real accent." Hugh Laurie, though, didn't ping me at all.

Unrelatedly, I think I've decided that I'm going to France for three weeks this summer. It'll be tight but doable on my budget, and I figure I'd rather spend the money on something fun than just have it sitting there.

Ahhhh. Made it home at like 1:30 last night, after our flight was delayed an hour and then my mother backed into a car in the parking lot, directly in front of a parking lot employee, so that was fun. But seriously, everyone else was responsible for it -- the car was parked in the illegal row next to the actual rows and the parking lot guy had his flashing lights on, blinding my mother.

But Puerto Rico was super fun! And I have a ridiculous sunburn on my chest, because I am an asshole.

Slept oddly last night. Extremely vivid dreams that I now don't really remember. So far today I have painted my nails, am most of the way packed, and working on a schedule from hell thanks to a work mess yesterday. To do - put on outside clothes, finish packing, gas up the car, make a list of things to do for CJ, drive to the airport, and then sushi!!!

And I have a ridiculous sunburn on my chest, because I am an asshole

Can you walk through all the steps that get you from A to B?

Came into work 45 minutes early because I was up and it seemed to be no use delaying it. And, shit, I jumped on a lot of deadlines yesterday--time to make the first one.

My sister mentioned yesterday that maybe a friend of hers wants to see my raunchier art. I grabbed all the "dirty bits" I've done since I bought my current laptop and then emailed my sister and asked if she was *sure* and also a non-work email address, because...that's a lot of stuff.

Can you walk through all the steps that get you from A to B?

Our first full day there, we were going to walk around Old San Juan, so I did not use any sunscreen, because I was hoping for some color. My mother offered sunscreen to me again after we had left, and I said no again. Because after months of winter, I forgot that my chest always burns, even when the rest of me doesn't appear to have been in the sun at all! So it's all my own fault.

The kids may have changed the meaning of asshole while I wasn't looking.

Brenda and I are waiting for the haze to burn off (that's what I'm saying. It's not clouds! It will go away!) and it to warm up enough to hit the beach. Or pool.

It's not clouds! It will go away!) and it to warm up enough to hit the beach. Or pool.

I really sympathise with the difficult decision you have to make between the beach and the pool.