My last shred of dignity is gone.

I actually sat and watched Fox News this afternoon as Paris was ordered to return to prison. And now I actually feel kind of badly for her, what with the whole calling out for her mom thing.

Also in court news (which garnered barely and "Oh, yeah, remember that crazy who shot her husband???" from the announcer), Mary Winkler gets like five minutes. Roughly.

Wait. Just one more. Frankly, I've had McEnough (not mine, got it from ew.com). It's official. I'm never watching Grey's Anatomy again. Here's my suggestion---Bailey goes and joins Addison and the crazy whiny bitches and McDreamy, who is one estrogen shot away from being a crazy whiny bitch himself (Let me go, Meredith...oh what the hell???), just go and lose the ratings war to CSI. *sniff*

My life not nearly as interesting. I watched three hourse of The Starter Wife on USA today, and wow summer TV is not what it should be. Creepy Hot Homeless guy may have killed Guy Who Co-Hosts the Memorial Day Thing On Channel 10 With Gary Sinise Every Year. (Yes. That is is name.)

Eh. I don't have anything better to do. I'll watch again.

Been reading a crapload recently, especially since I discovered that I can actually take books from work as long as I tell a manager about it. Oh, and bring them back. I can now read all the crappy new releases I know I'm going to hate but want to say I've read anyway (read: A Thousand Splendid Suns. I'm the only person in the world who thought the Kite Runner was boring.). Whee!!!

Or I could ride my horse. *chokes on the laughter*

Or watch bad summer TV. And we have a winner.

Confess here often?

From the Pick-Up Lines for Catholics group on Facebook. I'm easily amused.

I have a migraine and a history final in the morning and oh my God was the Hundred Years War complicated. Which one was crazy? (Oh. Charles VI. Thank God for Wikipedia.)

Ugh. I read the Alison Weir book on Queen Isabella. That's as much as I know.

Maybe I'll go watch the next episode of The Tudors in an effort to aquaint myself with the Wars of the Roses. It's connected. Kind of.

Also very tired, as I was on a bus at six fifty-one this morning.

I don't remember driving home. That can't be good.

Think I did okay, though. Surprising, considering the fact that I did nothing but watch season finales on TV last night. Bones was good, so cute at the end, even though it's quite obvious that Booth and Bones aren't going to do anything. Criminal Minds was amazing, but I am not pleased with Karen Hayes from 24 trying to kick Hotch out---go back to CTU and leave my crime dramas alone, bitch.

And then, CSI:NY. What to say? Other than the major ickiness, it was quite a good episode. A few smacked moments, lovely. GAH! PEYTON STUPID WHORE.

I hate her.

*ahem*

The Office finishes up tonight. So I'd better have my dynastic struggles figured out by then.

Speaking of which, this sounds like something I would do. In fact, I'm a little bit surprised I haven't done it already, seeing as how I fall on the steps pretty much daily.

Pssh. I knew it. Melinda was always too good. She should just go have a recording career and let Blake and Jordin drunkenly stumble out of limos for the next ten years.

Well, that's all I've got for you today. Off to go try to figure out the damn investiture controversy, and maybe pass out.

Oh, and if Mickey would like to know how How I Met Your Mother actually ended (I didn't give it away in the last post, I promise), please let me know. I could compose an essay I loved it so much. *tear*

It's going to be legend- wait for it...

How awesome was the season (yes, thank you, God just the season!!!) finale of How I Met Your Mother ??? I cried. Really. I don't cry.

I was screaming obscenities at the screen during the whole pregnancy thing, because I. Don't. Like. Robin. She is a cold frigid person who does not deserve Ted's children. So there. *sticks out tongue*





In other news, oh, good. I like her. I shall watch her spin-off.

I am not shocked. I would not want to be the guy next to him.

Everyone needs to watch CSI:NY tonight. SERIOUSLY. They're all wet and have guns. It's an obvious ratings ploy. I DON'T CARE. It's like the producers read the message boards. I know I'll be rushing home from my logic final to watch.

Well, I need to go study.

All medieval history, all the time.

This will be the Morena Whining Hour. Thank you for tuning in.

I am so freaking sick of anything that happened before 1975. I had a black death dream last night. *headdesk*

Major fun reading primary sources this afternoon, y'all. First up, we had the Magna Carta. The whole thing. And let me tell, if you are looking for a fun way to kill an afternoon, five pages of teensy print about feudal society is CLEARLY the way to go. Wow, there was no opportunity to marry up in 1215. As someone who aspires to a non-morganatic marriage to some member of some aristocracy, this was particularly horrifying to me.

Also read a letter in which we discover that Peter of Blois (Yeah, I don't know either. Some dude, I guess.) has a MAJOR man-crush on Henry II. I do so love medieval closeted gayness.

Finished up with some random source about Eleanor of Aquitaine, in which the Archbishop of Rouen writes,

Dear Eleanor,

OMG, stop being such a whore, you will kill us all. Plzkthks.

Love,

The Archbishop

Of course, they managed to stretch it out for three typed pages. Good lord were they wordy in the twelfth century. *headdesk*

Oooh, more good grade news---I got a 98 on my art history exam. Snaps for me!!! *avoids third headdesk in as many minutes*

I really have nothing else to add today, except that Angelina's adopting another one in a desperate attempt to never ever ever have to hold Shiloh.

Oh, and Tori Spelling had a baby. I don't like Tori Spelling, and perhaps the funniest thing I've heard all week was my mom, the grounded matron who is so far removed from popular culture that she has to be told repeatedly that Brad Pitt is considered attractive, who said upon hearing the joyous news, "Pssh. Homewrecker." Teehee.

Going to go pretend I'm a nun and describe disgusting swellings of the groin (Okay, that sounded way dirtier than I wanted it to...) for six pages. And then go curl up in a corner and die. Ciao.