In which I am incredibly cool

Someone told me that they would be interested to read the blog post I wrote tonight. If the fanbase is built in, then why wouldn't you publish something? So, here goes nothing.
I'm watching Glee. Therefore, this post will be about Glee. Season 1, episode 4. "Give not being homeless a try!" Good episode. And now onto episode 10. Ballads. Schuster needs to find ties that are less ugly. "I could totally sing this song with Finn, but screw him if he thinks he's taking the Diana Ross part from me." That's where the story of PedoWill begins. And Kurt obsesses over Finn, which is hilarious. I also happen to be wearing sunglasses and a beanie. At night. Indoors. It never hurts to be awesome.
I was feeling a little bit of the giddy, hyper, out of no where happiness earlier, and the remnants of it are still with me. I can't stop tapping my feet.
It's official. I'm ditching college and running away to LA to write for my sitcom and later, several romantic comedies. Who needs a degree and a steady job with a paycheck? Why not just be a starving experimental artist?
Party. Woohoo.
I have so much shit to do rage rage rage rage. Should I get a tumblr? No. Should I start writing an epic Klaine (with a little Kurtofsky) fic? Should I laugh my head off at the fact that including Chris Colfer in my ridiculous sitcom webseries was not my idea? Yes. I may have done so.
God, I need to get that novel typed up. I need to type it and edit it and do something with it so I can get it out of my head. And the characterization, the characterization is probably my number one problem. Number two is pacing. I'm sure I'll figure out numbers three to five thousand one hundred seventy two when I actually...erm...read the dumb thing.
I have been feeling more musical than normal as of late. I thought you ought to know. I do not have an explanation for this life change.
So, through deep obsession and careful survey, I have concluded that a shittonne of things are named after Dalton (and there was a "Hummel Industries" as well), the school that the Warblers are from. Businesses, mostly. Signs that I can see driving down I-75. And...this is really weird, but last Friday, after my grandma's funeral, when everything was done, we had to go to the funeral home to get some of the flowers and sign papers or something. I was looking at some paper (not the supposedly official paper that was in COMIC SANS) and noticed that under "Casket" it said...erm...this is weird..."Dalton" No longer will I be telling my awesomance partner about every single time I see something that says "Dalton"
If you're a senior who's on my quiz bowl team, you need to get your butt to practice, mkay? I don't want to be one of three seniors at practice again.