April 11th, 2003

trust, best friends forever, snot-nosed brats

Lag Time

For the general information of all:

Darkside and I operate on a deep communications lag at this point. I talk with him once a week or less frequently. On very, very good weeks, I talk to him four times a week. On bad weeks, I do not talk to him at all.

The burden of communication is upon me. I am the one interested and motivated to maintain contact. He is accustomed to a very low level of contact with old friends; he sees some of his friends once or twice a year, tops. Most of his old friends he never sees. He's completely lost contact.

I'm the one who leaves messages on his family voicemail. I'm the one who puts random e-mails there for him to find. I'm the one who attempts to show up on his doorstep on weekends. He drops by every now and then, say if it's a birthday, or a holiday.

Thus, if something's going on, unless it's something lifeshattering in my life (like when my soulsister wound up in the hospital), I'm unlikely to hear from him outside of the usual times.


If there's something going on in his life, he doesn't tend to discuss it much without much prompting. He's silly that way.


So I'm unlikely to hear anything more from him about the whole Air Force thing until the next time we get to talk, which, depending on his schedule and my timing in calling him, could be either Saturday, or a month from now...
Darkside

In any case...

...I still feel like the odd one out.

Bonded, unbonded; dating/not dating... doesn't matter. I'm not partnered. Not like they are.


Who will be Kit to my Nita?
...we can't even mindspeak each other in the middle of dinner. We have to use the phone. Only he doesn't.
Azzgrin, Azure: Lunatic, crazy

Wheels.

White.
Pontiac.
Sunbird LE.
Convertible.

And, evidently, not open to strangers taking liberties with it; I ran out and gave it a hug and a kiss, and it gave me a smack on the hand that scraped my knuckles up some.

votania's last car was a lesbian and kept grabbing my ass. This one seems to not be. Or else I haven't gotten to know it yet.
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high energy magic

Comment I made a while ago that still applies:

Any and all insights that come tonight shall be examined in non-manic phases, to see if they still hold water then. Those that do still ring True... yep.

And any and all insights that come during definitely non-manic, and perhaps even depressive phases, shall be carefully examined in non-depressive phases, to see if they're valid concerns, and if they are, acted upon to correct.

Because that's what depression and mania are for. For catching the high fly balls, and dredging out the cesspools of the soul.
running, bomb tech

Schemes

Dawn wants me to show Darkside the photos of when I was absolutely floored after catching the rose at her wedding. Literally floored -- I caught the rose, and sat down very hard, very suddenly.
Little Fayoumis, Nephew

Kids, learning, patience, and envy.

The skill with Little Fayoumis, learning, and having him focus, isn't something that just happened overnight.

I had six intense weeks of experience keeping an ADHD 16-year-old on-task and focused. I was fifteen.
I had four gruelling years of keeping an ADHD teenager, unmedicated, on-task, focused, and out of trouble from fifteen to nineteen.
I had two years of reading with slow-to-learn kids.
I have excellent memories of my own mental state at younger than most adults have clear memories of.
I have two years of 24-7 experience with Little Fayoumis as of next Wednesday.

He knows that when I want him to do something that is within his capability to do, I will work and work until he has done it. I am patient like a rock when I'm in teaching-mode, and I don't give up. I don't get loudly mad when I'm teaching him, very often. I will say, "I am getting mad about this" every now and then when in teaching-mode, or "I am getting frustrated", but I say it in a calm, level voice for the most part, or tiredly, and save the snap of grouch in the voice for punishment. He knows that when he breaks a rule, he will get in trouble for it. He knows that when he does something socially unacceptable, he will get told about it. He knows that when he does things right, I notice them. Sometimes he gets rewarded for them.

It's interesting. And it didn't happen overnight. At first, he was a complete stinker for me, and great for Mommy. But as time passed, and he realized that Mommy and I were backing each other up, and we both loved him, he settled down.
documentation, writing, quill

I hath committed evil, evil fic.

In response to what I'm sure mctabby didn't intend as a challenge...



Universe: Harry Potter
Chronology: At the end of Goblet of Fire, a few hours after Hermione's arrival in London
Author: azurelunatic
Genre: Unclassified
Rating: Unrated
Keywords: animagus, Rita Skeeter, Hermione Granger
Summary: Rita Skeeter teaches Hermione Granger a lesson.





The large, ugly, bespectacled bug hammered a leg against the inside of the jar on the dresser. Hermione Granger smirked down through the glass, and stuck out her tongue at the Animagus form of one Rita Skeeter, reporter (and annoyance) extraordinaire.

Rita thrashed at the unbreakable jar with her wings, and Hermione grew concerned as tiny flecks of wing-gossamer floated to the bottom. Perhaps she was hungry? Thirsty? "Parasitus i eloquere!" Hermione uttered, waving her wand.

"Let me out! Let me out!" bug-Rita yelled.

No! Hermione almost said, and almost cast finite incantatum on the beetle again. But she didn't. Giving Rita Skeeter grief was one thing; torturing the woman was another. She had promised Rita that she'd be freed when they reached London, but she was waiting until after the Ministry of Magic's main operating hours ended, just in case.

"Why?" she asked instead.

Rita stopped her mindless flailing and seemed to look up at Hermione with a glint in her hard little eyes. "I can make it worth your while..." she said.

Hermione cocked her head. "I don't believe you," she replied, and picked up her wand again.

"No! Wait!" Rita yelled, fluttering her wings. "I can teach you things!"

Hermione put down the wand and considered. "Things?" she asked.

"Things no one else would teach you," whispered Rita.

"Like what?" Hermione asked.

"Let me out of the jar, and I'll show you..." Rita said.

"If this is a trick, bug..." Hermione threatened, and brandished her wand, which suddenly showed the ghostly aura of a fly-swatter about it.

Rita shuddered. "No tricks," she promised. "I think you'd like to learn this..."

Hermione looked dubious, but opened the jar.

Rita flew up to Hermione's shoulder. "Lock the door," she instructed. "You won't want anyone to overhear."

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