Finished my second fic for 20_inkspots a few minutes ago. E-mailed it to alanahikarichan for her to look at it and see if she likes it. If she does, then I've got two down and only eighteen to go! Woot! This fic was for One Word Trigger 5, "Flavours."
In family news: my cousin in England, who had been in the hospital for his depression/suicidal-ness again, is now out! Yay! Mum e-mailed him, but he hasn't responded to her, so I'm going to try. He may respond, he may not, but at least he'll know I've been thinking about him and I'll have tried.
The not-so-good news from that side of the pond, however, is that my grandfather's wife (technically my step-grandma, but that sounds cold since I've known her as long as I can remember) is going have some sort of surgery. She has uterine/ovarian cancer (can't recall which) and she has to get some fluid drained, I think from her belly. She says it's a minor procedure, but they're admitting her to the hospital for a week, so... yeah. I'm trying not to worry, but it's hard. She's going to die, it's pretty much guaranteed, and I'm of course not looking forward to it.
Locally: a guy I know from East Pictou (my high school), Lennie Knickle, died Sunday night. There was a snowstorm, and him and a buddy had taken a snowmobile into town (right near my house, actually) and had been tearing around the streets. Gods only know why. It's illegal to have snowmobiles on the streets here, by the way. Anyways, they hit a snowplow. Lennie was pronounced DOA, but he was practically guaranteed dead when he hit the damn thing. The other guy, Allister, who I also know, broke his back and his spine, and had to be transferred to Halifax, but the injuries aren't life threatening. Alcohol is not thought to be a factor, and the snowplow driver is fine, but understandably shaken as hell. Visibility and manoeuvrability were shitty as hell, so it wasn't really anyone's fault, besides sort-of Lennie and Allister's for doing illegal shit in the first place.
I'm sad about Lennie, because he was a decent guy, but it's hard to really be all that sad or cry or anything, since I hardly knew him and hadn't seen him in, oh, about four years. Still a shame, though, he was only 22.
That's all, really.
I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. *leers and staggers off to bed*