Check 'em out.
That was from rent.com.
Called Darkside a little after nine tonight. Told him about the shrimp-spotting, and let him know that the tearful meltdowns were due in part to what week it is.
I don't want to drift apart from him. Frequent conversations are a key element in that.
...I like how I keep myself on the straight and narrow, mindful of his good opinion.
Someone commented that it might be more efficient for me to combine some of my shorter posts into longer ones. This was last night, when there were a flurry of them.
Looking back, that would have been exceptionally impractical, as my reactions to the event altered public, friends, and filtered (and even a few private) posts. When someone not logged in at me compares the number of posts they can see in a day to the number of posts the calendar shows for that day, there are usually at least five private posts. Most of those are chat logs, but there are a few that aren't.
The entries about Darkside are increasingly friends-secured, being mindful that he is a very private man. I see far more of him than most people do; I expect that those who have met him, and read this journal, are discovering things about him that they would never have known from his public face. I suspect that too much of that is bad, and I should stop. To that end, I'm securing and filtering far more of my entries about him and the stuff going on with him. It's my journal, but it's his privacy.
This is the way I write. It comes out in fits and spurts, and occasionally a longer, better-thought-out, entry. Some of it is fit for public consumption, and some is not.
I'm odd like that. I suspect everyone is.
Tomorrow morning, shall endeavor to call m'love and discuss, seriously, the moving thing with him. Finance and roommate stuff: heavy.
This is serious, and is providing impetus for the much-needed move on our part as well.
Really, I have very few pieces of good furniture.
I have my computer desk, which is a cheap piece of shit. I may or may not take it with me when we move. I have several bookshelves, which are all POSes. The one shelf I would take with is easily deconstructed.
I have the huge heavy Help Desk, which is metal and wood, and is sturdy and was cheap and will last me forever. I want to keep that one.
My bed is a dynamic pile of recycled mattresses, cushions, and random blankets/pillows/sheets. There is a nice flat futon-mattress in there that I will keep, and the pillows/blankets and such, but all the rest -- toast.
Aside from the furniture, what else do I have in my room?
...No more new clothes, but for the basics (bras!! Pants!!) until we move. Should probably just give up and buy a bunch of those interlocking plastic boxes that look like milk crates but stack better, and use those as shelves so I can just pack that, too, up with a minimum of fuss/muss.
It's been a good two years.
It is understandably eerie to look at the screen of your palmtop and see your skull looking back at you.
Adjusting the angle, the image is only your reflection once more, but still...
According to the plasma place and their scale, my weight has been steadily decreasing. Of course, that's after the evil spike that the holidays caused.
But I'm getting there. The workouts have caused my body to do good things, like discourage my shoulders from slumping. My posture is still lousy.
I'm being very, very careful to not do anything to upset my lungs. This is crucial, as if I stress my lungs too much, I get a horrible wheezing cough type thing that doesn't go away for months. This is BAD. Pushing my lungs too much while they have anything interesting, like goo from allergies that's been inhaled, is similarly bad. So I must be careful to not do that in my workouts.
Where the fuck are the whiteboard markers? They have gone missing. I found one straggler left behind in the drawer, one that hadn't been brought out when the whiteboard went into use again.
Perhaps they were true Christians and were caught up in the Rapture.
So yeah. I cleaned the cat boxes, I put dishes in the dishwasher (and Marx said he might be up to unloading them), I took out garbage, I updated the list of tasks on the whiteboard.
Things to do, things to do. I've been slacking.
Have figured out how to make Inanna and Yahoo get along. Go, me.
Met a neighbor. We were both doing laundry. I'd seen her coming the one way from the laundry room, and my eye tagged the little, discreet pentagram-with-crystal necklace, so I said a few things to her in the laundry room when I went to get my stuff out of the dryer, including "Merry Meet."
"You too?" she said.
Evidently the star in the window around the holidays was noticed, as were the smells of sage and sandalwood. Those are not the usual scents for those burning incense for the scent only...
About the star, she'd wondered if someone was being a smartass, or someone was actually doing it for reasons of faith. "Actually, both," I said.
I'm probably going to refer to her as Willow. Just, you know, because.
The Viking called. Told him B was in the shop. He's recovering from being sick.