That's All She Wrote

I suppose the irony of it is, is that I started on the day the world was supposed to end. Apparently, we've been worshipping at Satan's feet since 1955, when God departed all the world's churches and Satan took over. Or something; I'm not terribly clear on the details considering every single article on the subject contradicts itself every paragraph. It may have 1988 instead. Not that I've ever been to church.

Still, I'm pretty sure I signed my own pact with the Devil yesterday and handed over my soul. But since the house in Hell has been going to waste for the last six years or so, it's probably about time it was inhabited again. At least to clean out the ashes and brimstone. It'll be nice to have my own place again.

Yes, I realise none of the above makes much sense, but considering 'I' decided to start writing a Twilight AU novel yesterday, with pen and paper, I'm not at all sure I need to be either sane today, or understandable.

I do know my hand hurts. And Bella is somewhere outside Washington DC with Edward and Carlisle, headed for Rosalie's apartment in Manhattan. I'm...really not sure why. Hopefully it will all makes sense to me when I finish. Until then, 'I'm' not the one really writing this, I think.

And I'm going to keep telling myself that.

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Seriously, there is a Prince Harry/Pippa Middleton entry on het_bigbang. I think I'm in love.