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It's not how you start, it's how you finish. It's not where you're from, it's where you're at.
GREATEST NEWS: the sentencing has been postponed until the day after it was supposed to be, which means that even though I got this kind of emotionally/religiously manipulative e-mail from that dude's wife, I don't have to go to his sentencing and be emotionally fucked up and physically ill or risk feeling like a massive douche. And the sentence should be handed down by the time I land in Chicago, so I won't be jittering around about it, just still confused -- though, mostly, I've settled on, "Nah, he's pretty much scum, whatever everyone is saying about 'repentance,' because he's said that before, and yes, as much as I object to the prison system, that's where he belongs."
I'm at the halfway point of my degree. \o/ It's pretty weird -- in six months, I'll have a master's and hopefully a big girl job, which is terrifying. I'll be done with academia for the foreseeable future, though there's still the possibility of going back to do enough school for degrees in educational psychology and curriculum development if I end up needing them to smack people around.
I need to sleep, because tomorrow is going to be a loooooong day -- I've got to finish my data collection, work on outlining my option paper, I have an evening outing, and I need to do laundry. BUT FIRST. God, it must've been weeks ago, I mentioned to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
just_katarin how apparently a bunch of dudes were hitting Sunrise for the Habs game to hang out with Ellerby and Carey and her response was to demand fic where Ellerby makes fun of Carey for how into PK he is. I sketched something out, but I've come to accept that it isn't going past 500 words of something I wouldn't actually call proper fic about them chilling somewhere after the NYE game, so here that is so that it gets out of my googledocs. :|
"You're looking at his ass again," Ells says to Carey when Subban leaves the table to get them more drinks.
"Fuck off, Keater," Carey says. "I'm just making sure he doesn't get lost."
Ells grins. "Sure you are. But hey, speaking of getting lost -- or, in your case, just losing."
"Oh, were you at the game?" Carey's eyes widen enough that it has to be deliberate. "I didn't notice you on the ice."
There's no reason for Ells not to flinch at that, but it still pisses him off when he does. "Dude," he says, looking over Carey's shoulder instead of directly at him.
Carey winces. "You'll get back out there." It's not an apology, but Ells wasn't expecting one, so whatever.
"It's cool." He shrugs one shoulder. "Guds is playing really well. I need to be better."
"You can be," Carey says. Ells thinks he's trying to be reassuring -- and it kind of works. "Okay, enough shop talk. Has Denton's girl had the kid yet?"
Ells immediately slides his phone out of his pocket. "Yeah, a couple of weeks ago. You want to see pictures?" He doesn't wait for a response before he pulls up the latest e-mail from Denton and passes his phone to Carey, because his nephew's pretty much the best thing in the world, so of course Carey wants to see how cute he is. Anyone would.
"Who's the kid?" Subban asks, sidling up behind Carey and hooking his chin over his shoulder so he can get a better look at Ells' phone.
"My nephew." Ells snags his beer and levels a pointed look at Carey, who scowls back at him.
Subban frowns down at the picture. "He's kind of funny-looking."
Carey sticks his elbow in Subban's ribs. "He's a newborn, it happens."
"My nephew wasn't funny-looking!" Subban protests. "But maybe that's because he's not from Alberta."
"Don't listen to PK," Carey says, shoving Subban lightly. "He's cute."
"I have to piss," Subban announces. He heads for the washroom and Carey's eyes follow him again.
"You could go with him, you know," Ells offers. "I'm pretty sure that washroom's seen worse than your dick."
Carey rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to fuck PK in a public washroom."
"But you are going to fuck him. Or at least try to, but I don't think he'll say no. You're not that horrible."
"Why are you so sure we haven't fucked already?"
"Please." It's Ells' turn to roll his eyes. "You drool too much when you look at him to have hit that already."
"He could've said no," Carey suggests. "Or he could have hit on me and I could've said no."
"Sure." Ells takes a long sip of his drink. "But that's not what happened, is it?"
As Carey opens his mouth to reply, Subban reappears. "What isn't what happened?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing. We're just talking about Carey's inability to get laid."
Carey's eyes narrow at Ells as Subban says, "He gets laid all the time!"
Ells chokes on his drink. "Really," he says once he's gotten the ability to breathe back. He raises both eyebrows at Carey.
"Sure." Subban grins. "Pricey's got plenty of game."
Ells doesn't bother trying to hide his smirk. Carey glares and kicks him under the table, so Ells reaches one hand down to rub at his shin. "Jackass," he says and Carey just smiles.
I'm at the halfway point of my degree. \o/ It's pretty weird -- in six months, I'll have a master's and hopefully a big girl job, which is terrifying. I'll be done with academia for the foreseeable future, though there's still the possibility of going back to do enough school for degrees in educational psychology and curriculum development if I end up needing them to smack people around.
I need to sleep, because tomorrow is going to be a loooooong day -- I've got to finish my data collection, work on outlining my option paper, I have an evening outing, and I need to do laundry. BUT FIRST. God, it must've been weeks ago, I mentioned to
just_katarin how apparently a bunch of dudes were hitting Sunrise for the Habs game to hang out with Ellerby and Carey and her response was to demand fic where Ellerby makes fun of Carey for how into PK he is. I sketched something out, but I've come to accept that it isn't going past 500 words of something I wouldn't actually call proper fic about them chilling somewhere after the NYE game, so here that is so that it gets out of my googledocs. :|"You're looking at his ass again," Ells says to Carey when Subban leaves the table to get them more drinks.
"Fuck off, Keater," Carey says. "I'm just making sure he doesn't get lost."
Ells grins. "Sure you are. But hey, speaking of getting lost -- or, in your case, just losing."
"Oh, were you at the game?" Carey's eyes widen enough that it has to be deliberate. "I didn't notice you on the ice."
There's no reason for Ells not to flinch at that, but it still pisses him off when he does. "Dude," he says, looking over Carey's shoulder instead of directly at him.
Carey winces. "You'll get back out there." It's not an apology, but Ells wasn't expecting one, so whatever.
"It's cool." He shrugs one shoulder. "Guds is playing really well. I need to be better."
"You can be," Carey says. Ells thinks he's trying to be reassuring -- and it kind of works. "Okay, enough shop talk. Has Denton's girl had the kid yet?"
Ells immediately slides his phone out of his pocket. "Yeah, a couple of weeks ago. You want to see pictures?" He doesn't wait for a response before he pulls up the latest e-mail from Denton and passes his phone to Carey, because his nephew's pretty much the best thing in the world, so of course Carey wants to see how cute he is. Anyone would.
"Who's the kid?" Subban asks, sidling up behind Carey and hooking his chin over his shoulder so he can get a better look at Ells' phone.
"My nephew." Ells snags his beer and levels a pointed look at Carey, who scowls back at him.
Subban frowns down at the picture. "He's kind of funny-looking."
Carey sticks his elbow in Subban's ribs. "He's a newborn, it happens."
"My nephew wasn't funny-looking!" Subban protests. "But maybe that's because he's not from Alberta."
"Don't listen to PK," Carey says, shoving Subban lightly. "He's cute."
"I have to piss," Subban announces. He heads for the washroom and Carey's eyes follow him again.
"You could go with him, you know," Ells offers. "I'm pretty sure that washroom's seen worse than your dick."
Carey rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to fuck PK in a public washroom."
"But you are going to fuck him. Or at least try to, but I don't think he'll say no. You're not that horrible."
"Why are you so sure we haven't fucked already?"
"Please." It's Ells' turn to roll his eyes. "You drool too much when you look at him to have hit that already."
"He could've said no," Carey suggests. "Or he could have hit on me and I could've said no."
"Sure." Ells takes a long sip of his drink. "But that's not what happened, is it?"
As Carey opens his mouth to reply, Subban reappears. "What isn't what happened?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing. We're just talking about Carey's inability to get laid."
Carey's eyes narrow at Ells as Subban says, "He gets laid all the time!"
Ells chokes on his drink. "Really," he says once he's gotten the ability to breathe back. He raises both eyebrows at Carey.
"Sure." Subban grins. "Pricey's got plenty of game."
Ells doesn't bother trying to hide his smirk. Carey glares and kicks him under the table, so Ells reaches one hand down to rub at his shin. "Jackass," he says and Carey just smiles.
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I AM SUPER JEALOUS THAT YOU ARE ALREADY HALFWAY TO YOUR DEGREE. :| Though I think my program was less intense than yours as a result. And my degree is coming... in two and a half months (WHAT THE FUCK) symbolically, and probably in actual physical form in... three and a half? Four and a half? Since I'm at the end of the alphabet, my degrees take forever to get to me. :| SIGH SIGH SIGH.
no subject
I AM KIND OF IN DISBELIEF OVER IT, TBH. My program has definitely been crazy, but I think in some of the more measurable ways, it may actually have been less intense than yours, since aside from anything, I only have to produce 26k of written work for the degree. My physical degree won't be mine for another year, though, since I have to walk in order to get it or graduate in absentia and my grandparents reaaaaally want to see me walk, but all the fall degree ceremonies are booked already. MY UNIVERSITY IS TERRIBLE, BASICALLY. I'll get a letter to give to people to prove I have the degree, but still.