May 9th, 2003

documentation, writing, quill

Re-post of a quote.

From Komarr, by Lois McMaster Bujold:

"So the difference between a criminal and a hero is the order in which their vile crimes are committed. And justice comes with a sell-by date. In that case, you'd better hurry. You wouldn't want your heroism to spoil."

Original post
running, bomb tech


Dear Darkside,

I'm sorry about going after all those guys. I could understand how you would think that I'm immature and too flaky to trust about relationships. I don't do very well single for long.

It must have hurt when I started dating Adam. I know it hurt you when I got together with Dave-in-Germany.

I'm sorry, beloved.

It probably didn't hurt you so badly this time when I got together with yaksha42, as at least he didn't take up my time and didn't toy with my mind. Plus, you're used to my fickle ways with men now.

I'll try to do better this time. I'm getting better about not giving into lust and loneliness.

your Joanie
running, bomb tech


Dreamed. I was hanging out with yaksha42, only it wasn't quite him. There were some definite elements of BJ present.

Somehow, there was something to do with money, income from stolen goods, and taxes, and I was busy attempting to hide computer evidence, quietly, with no indication that this was in fact what I was doing, when the FBI got there. It looked like I was just looking at the FTP logs on my Yahoo account control panel.

There was something to do with stolen car parts? And leaving them places where they would not be found?

And there had been a corporation, registered online, with some long horrid corporate name that looked like a computer-generated baffle-remote-linkers confusion filename, called Wolf Corporation for short. We (me, Yakky, Votania, and Yakky's brother) looked over the finances and decided that bailing while we had the chance was the best plan. So we did. Rather, everyone but the brother tried to; we were trying to stick him with the debts, which were his fault to start with, illegal practices and all.


We had gone swimming or skiing, and we had returned home (the Alaska house, or something like it; it looked like Narcissa's violin teacher's mom's house, only kinda not)... and there was all this frozen stuff we had to thaw out, and this frozen rooster, and we revived him, and then the convict was in the house and we all had to be inside because it was cold; he was under guard; the power was going out and we didn't have enough generator to last two buildings; we had to invite all the chickens inside, too. They were out in the cold, silly things.

The convict had been promised rice, because of the food shortage. He made sure it was good rice, not nasty moldy rice like in the paper grocery bag he was holding. And eeew, was that nasty and fuzzy. The lady pointed out the upstairs window (it was our house, somehow, and she may have been me, even though I was a different viewpoint character) at the bag of rice in the swimming pool. It was a huge bag of rice, and preserved there.


A continuation of a past dream, or a past universe. This universe involved my school, and much driving to and from it. In the past episode, ralmathon and I had been hired by my old school to help save the food supply and fight the big bad whale attackers.

My big bro had fought them off, but at interesting cost. As he was delivering the blow that would disable the attacker permanently, he froze into some sort of stasis and could not be roused. He was put into a gel tank in the library, and means were left for him to get out once he had roused, and kids would go stand looking at the display, willing him to wake up, which he never did.

I was not quite me; I was the little-kid version of me, a clone and reproduction of the original me, with most of my old memories, and I was standing there, looking at him, with his short mop of curly hair fuzzed out in the gel tank... and then he turned and grinned at me! He surfaced, and we ran for the tank door releases downstairs, as there were none on the upper viewing deck in the hallway by the first grades, and the way was cleared for me as I barrelled in and we tacklehugged each other.

It turned out that we'd been hearing only half the story on the war, as usual. Far from there being a scarce food supply, it was really quite good, if only we'd open our minds to slightly unconventional but still good sources of food, and stop wasting...

And ralmathon and I were reunited.
running, bomb tech


Collapse )You see the world in Red/Green/Blue:
To you, the world is logical. Everything happens
for a reason, life is scientific. You like to
find solutions. I doubt you needed to take this
quiz in order to realize this.

The glass isn't half empty nor half full... Depends if you're filling it up or pouring it out.

What color do you see the world in?
brought to you by Quizilla
running, bomb tech


Well, the closet's cleaned out. I took the time to go through the rather hefty pile of things in the big box in the living room, and sorted all the contents into different boxes: Fabric Pieces, Fabric Projects, Craft Stuff, Fabric Scraps, Fabric Tools, Joan's Wedding Dress.

That should make it abundantly clear what stuff is up for grabs to use in projects and what is not.
running, bomb tech

Happy, happy.

The living room's looking cleaner and cleaner, though I have yet to vacuum.

I still need to do my laundry, though...
Little Fayoumis, Nephew

This has the potential to become a very unpleasant weekend.

Little Fayoumis is now grounded from TV in all forms (TV, movies, animations on computer) and all forms of computer/console games (cannot even be in the room when someone is playing)... and now from all his toys.

This latest development comes because of the following incident:

Marx and Votania disappeared into their room and locked the door. Little Fayoumis played for a few minutes with his bucket of cars, then made the proverbial beeline for the door, and was frustrated to find it locked. "Why is it not opening?!?!?!" He knocked. He hung out by the door and waited. He knocked some more. He rattled the knob. All of this looking fairly angry.

I advised him that if the door was locked, it probably wasn't going to have this situation come undone at any near point, and he should probably go and sit on the couch and wait or something. Many long minutes later, he does. I ask him whether he should get mad about a locked door, or wait. "Wait about it," he sighed, and asked for a snack.

The door opens, some many minutes later, and votania and marxdarx emerge. I mention that perhaps they should have told Little Fayoumis that the door was going to be locked before disappearing in there.

Evidently, they had. They had made sure that he had his whole bucket of toy cars, and that he knew that they were going to be spending quality time together with the door locked, and that he was supposed to be playing without disturbing them.

Kaboom. Guess who is the one who got in trouble? Guess whose entire toy box is parked in my room, for the remainder of today and all of tomorrow?

I do not think that tomorrow is a day to be looked forward to.
  • Current Mood
running, bomb tech

My beading, iroshi's research...

Garnet: Balances hormones, good for mental depression, enhances self-esteem, alleviates bad dreams, and encourages success in business. Thought to assist in seeing into past incarnations. Healing properties include blood disorders, fertility and eases arthritis pain.As a gift it is a symbol of happiness and loyalty.

Hematite is calming to the emotions. Often called the 'worry stone' Hematite is a very grounding stone, cooling to the physical body. Can be used for fevers, to alleviate worry and anxiety as it allows for mental clarity. Worn or carried as an amulet to confer strength and procure favourable legal judgements. In Egypt, used to reduce inflammation and treat hysteria. Considered to be a grounding stone. Helps maintain balance between body, mind, and spirit.

I made someone in particular a rearview mirror dangly with garnet, hematite, one single blue goldstone, and a bone dragon.

Happiness. Loyalty.
running, bomb tech


Remember back around Yule, when I had the neckache from hell? Well, it's returned. Owwwwww. It goes to mid-shoulderblade, and anchors somewhere up inside my skull....

Not as bad this time, though. It just hurrrrrrrrrts. It's not soul-searing agony.

They got home just in time for me to be told by the blond chick that the hot tub was closing Right Now... Ow. Hurts.
running, bomb tech

And yeah.

I'd been counting on a hot tub soak to make everything magically better. This did not happen. So I stormed back to the apartment, thinking wistfully of cutting, but deciding against it. Was unfortunately somewhat rude to the guy with the little weiner dog with the big balls that shits all over the place and he doesn't clean it up. He asked something about how the hot tub was; I said "Whatever," and closed and latched the glass door behind me, came into my room, and fell over sobbing.

Was somewhat unable to speak for the next five to ten minutes. Still feeling grumpy.
running, bomb tech

Careful self-medication

A portion of a shot of homemade cinnamon stuff, with one liqui-gel advil.

Feeling somewhat better. Need proper sleep.