May 1st, 2003

running, bomb tech

Bad poetry alert...

You make my head spin, my scalp-hairs prickle.
You hit me over the head with a textbook.
If we kissed, you would taste like a dried cactus pickle.

You graduated college. I got you one red rose.
You smacked me over the head with that too.
At least you didn't stick your finger up my nose...
...again.

We are mature, refined, adept with communication.
Please, remove your hands from around my throat.
You are my light, my love, ...my constant source of aggravation.


for the benefit of sionainn, an addendum:
And all in good time, it shall come to pass:
My bonky flashlight, whack! on your ass!
running, bomb tech

*sniffle*

May, and what have I to show for it? Allergies.

My dreams would have been more memorable if I'd written them down.

Lab in Web today, so *sings* I'm not gooooing!

Chunking, anyway.
running, bomb tech

Years.

One year ago today, in 2002, I was trying to sort out the tension in my household, trying to deal with school, trying to deal with my overwhelming adoration of Darkside, and trying to get along with digitalambience.

Two years ago today, in 2001, the floor had turned black with ants in the kitchen, Little Fayoumis was upset and crying about it because he was scared of them, I was hitting them with a hammer to squash them. We eventually went and chilled in the hot tub, and I held informal Circle there. Oh, gods, and I was still hoping to date Dennis, wasn't I. Smoooooth move, woman. *hits self in head*

Three years ago today, in 2000, I was living with BJ in the tiny rental place, or getting ready to move in. Work was going all right. I had my CAR!

Four years ago today, in 1999, I was living in the dorms up at UAF, barely holding on. The semester was ending, and I should have left months earlier.

Five years ago today, in 1998, the barely-resolved sexual tension between Shawn and me was enormous, but I was still a virgin. I wished he would kiss me.

Six years ago today, in 1997, we were getting ready for summer. Shawn killed my calculator, the bastard.

Seven years ago today, in 1996, I was trying to get over the fact that I wasn't going to get to go to CTY, even though it was my nevermore year.

Eight years ago today, in 1995, I was working on ectogenesis under its original name, going after MiniDark (I swear, he and Darkside are clones... the photos of Darkside at the same age look identical, and they even have the same first name...), and thanks to the drummer ex and Savil's girlfriend, I discovered that I was bi...

Nine years ago today, in 1994, I was finishing up my eighth grade year, trying not to flunk but not caring anymore, heavily into science fiction, loving the library, searching frantically for the book that I could have hallucinated and that one kid never brought back to the library, The Great Rip-Off. YA romance, with computers and psychics. A perfect book for me... Oh, and snarky, sarcastic men. Gotta have that.

Ten years ago today, in 1993, I was finishing up 7th grade. Mike Crouteau was hitting on me; I literally hit him back with a library book. The popular girls were teasing me.

Eleven years ago today, in 1992, I was almost done with 6th grade. Ty Keltner and I were dating, and he was a really fun guy to spend time with. His little brother was such a cute kid, and I could see babysitting him. Timmy actually started thinking that I was cool.

Twelve years ago today, in 1991, I was still in 5th grade, part of the Ginger/Gaia/Galadriel/Joanie clique. We were together. We were exclusive. We weren't popular, per se, but we had each other. We were obnoxious little brats and picked on poor Lillian.

Thirteen years ago today, in 1990, Mrs. Banks was my favorite teacher of all time, in 4th grade. She read us books every day, and we rubbed her shoulders, which became knots of tension. Chris and I were the best at doing that. Chris was the guy who wasn't so smart, but if you were his friend, he was probably really cool. I wasn't really his friend. I told Mrs. Banks about what was happening with all of the guys that I loved. (Some years later, I thought about telling her about my fiancee, but tested first by telling her that someone had a crush on Narcissa, and it was a girl, and instead of saying that this was sooo cool, she said ick, so I refrained.)

Fourteen years ago today, 1989, in 3rd grade, I was very likely frustrated that I didn't get to hear the geography stories, because GT met during that period, and I always had to miss it, and that made me so, so very mad. But I went anyway, because I had to.

Fifteen years ago today, 1988, in 2nd grade, I was still frustrated about math and cursive writing. I hated them both.

Sixteen years ago today, 1987, first grade, it was all pretty outside... there was probably still snow, and it was getting melty, and I wanted to play in the drips from the eaves as soon as it started dripping.



...My father had said once that the custom went like this: if a girl bathed her face in the dew on the morning of May Day without speaking a word to anyone first, she would be beautiful.

Lacking morning dew (May in Alaska is still cold!), I would slip outside and wash my face in a handful of snow taken from the top of the nearest clean snowbank, before speaking a word to anyone.

I did this for quite a while, before coming to the shocked realization one time that it had, in fact, been working...
running, bomb tech

Okay, okay, this is my wand already.

mercury
13 1/13 inch, ebony and mercury. Interesting and
unusual are severe understatements for this
Gregorovitch wand. You've got your own style
and your own opinions, and you probably live in
your own world as well. Join us down here in
the real world sometimes, will you?


Which wand will yours be?
brought to you by Quizilla

...though I got another one the first time though... I think it was the yew & stardust.
running, bomb tech

Catch o' th' Day

Of course the sorority girls are wasted on the Jello shots. The jello shots deserve something better than them.

They may want to meet me, but I doubt I'd want to meet them. Even if they are single. And in my area.

You are not my bank. DELETED!

I don't need bankruptcy services, or better alternatives. And how, precisely, did you come by that name?

I'm sure she is, but after all, you're the one who's married to her, not me. Enjoy.

Don't want that magazine, and we already have one of those.

You know what you can do with your better alternative. Perhaps it will also work as a lubricant?

No, thanks, I prefer 'em the same size as they are on my pretty, which is neither big nor small, but just nicely the right size.
trust, best friends forever, snot-nosed brats

mmmf.

Phone. Darkside answered.

We chatted a while. B's gas tank may well be leaking.

We have a new phrase, commonly understood. "Buffer error." It's for when I try to say something that gets caught in the output buffer that he would really, truly, Not Appreciate if I said it. ...He knows what it means, now.

We had a few words, serious ones, about his status. He'd thought that votania was my best friend. He warned me about how he's not exactly the best friend in the world, and mentioned how he'd sat me down in front of a game console, which I probably didn't appreciate, and how between the bus ride, the walking, and the flat tire, I probably didn't have that great of a time. No, beloved. I got to see you.

He's on call for Jury Duty starting June 01, for six months. This, according to him, means that his father will not be able to get him into the Air Force for that time. Which means he gets a longer chance to find something...

We cracked jokes at each other, more sexual than usual. He told me to stop drooling a few times.

Oh, and did I mention that all of this was in an Irish accent on his part? Mmmmf.

Wall-nuts. He checked to confirm that he was still male at one point. Drool.

He says hello to Marx, and says hello and bops on the head with a pillow to votania and Little Fayoumis.

We spent an hour and a half on the phone. It still wasn't enough. We spent half an hour trying to pry ourselves off the phone. The conversation was interrupted halfway through when he was meddling with the phone plug into the wall, and, surprise, it came unplugged, and evidently that had been the one that the phone was plugged into...

(No. It wasn't deliberate; he wouldn't lie to us. Even Marah knows that.) We called him right back.

We did ask him if he ever wore those boxers we gave him for Christmas. Not under his uniform pants... Clarified that we'd meant as pajamas. No, not really... too modest usually. (Damn!)

We'd had a conversation about his uniform earlier. We'd kidded around about what we'd do if we worked together, and after he locked me in the fridge, I threw my dishwater all over him. He mentioned that sometimes he'd not have his uniform dry when it was time to go to work, so he'd just throw it on wet... guh.

...And to stop drooling. He'd checked to see that nothing showed through.

Mentioned that I knew what style of underwear he wore.


Poked at him about him calling sometime. He might. He didn't say he might, but he might.

I love him.


An hour and a half is not enough.
running, bomb tech

Backlog

Got 60 messages in my inbox waiting to be taken care of. Maybe 20 of them are unfiled old ones; the rest are mostly LJ comments to be replied to.

Busy, busy, busy.
running, bomb tech

Beltane in the Temple

Every year. Every single flipping year.

Something goes wrong.

Today it was B.

Suffice to say that it is not the most pleasant of moments when you hustle the Little Fayoumis ahead of you into the Chevron as gasoline pours from the vehicle that you were just sitting in.
running, bomb tech

Delightful, loving things.

He pointed out that perhaps I needed a better body image, so that I could base my feelings off what I thought, rather than what other people thought.

...this, after I talked about the dress that votania was borrowing, and wistfully mentioned that I had been pretty, once...


He also mentioned that he's learned most of the advice that he gives me, the hard way.

...but others have learned those same things the hard way. He knows me well enough to tell me the right way. Other people try to hit the same lessons home. He succeeds.
running, bomb tech

Yes.

The trees are still celebrating Beltane in my sinuses.
running, bomb tech

Self-knowledge, body.

We did eventually wind up shopping. Was in the middle of Sam's, recognized the body warnings, and told Votania that I was getting low, and that I'd be OK until we got home.

And I was.

Though I was beginning to get a little shaky.