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Mondays are often quiet

I had a Figment on my floor when I woke up. I don't do mornings, but I'm going to have to wake up in a morning one of these days to have actual breakfast with him, because it's something he wants to do. That didn't happen today, though.

Figment had a very weird morning. I don't blame him for having a weird morning, based on the mental moving-of-furniture that's been going on, and we'll just have to wait to see if the vase will stay where it's put, or leap back up onto the table and un-smash itself. In the past, it was always wobbly and never stayed where he himself put it after that first catastrophic smash or two. And nothing else stayed. This time, who knows.

It was Figment's cunning plan to offer his voluntary absence unless otherwise requested from the potential Star Wars marathon on my birthday, so if Darkside doesn't feel like socializing with other people, he won't be forced to -- and if he does feel like it, Figment's still got the day off from work.

I went off to give plasma, then went directly off to wave my green refund sheet at the Fry's Electronics people, and see if I could score some Star Wars for the potential upcoming marathon. I wound up with The Phantom Menace (on sale at 1/3 off) and the animated Clone Wars episodes (not on sale, but still tasty-looking), with a bonus find of Dark Side of the Moon (the Pink Floyd album). (I'd been going to get either some Jeff Buckley or Leonard Cohen, but I couldn't remember Leonard Cohen's name, just the song I wanted, and it would be probably more efficient to get the specific song from iTunes or some such. So Lunatics in my head it was instead.)

Sunday, I discovered that Trader Joe's now has chocolate-covered pineapple sticks in addition to the orange and raspberry. Darkside should be scared; they can probably make me very hyper.

Movie of the day at the plasma place: The Hot Chick. I try to look these things up so that I'll have a record of what sort of silliness gets put into my brain, so I know where all the crud is coming from. There's a reason I avoid most TV and radio that hasn't been pre-screened. I know the classics station is generally safe for my brain, but I avoid obnoxious morning DJs like anything. I was hoping for some femslash and some dumping of the ditzy boyfriend, but alas, such was not to be. I wonder if there's any The Hot Chick femslash out there?

Assorted people have been having birthdays without it really registering in my spacey little brain, but 5/23 was ataniell93's birthday, and I just cannot let the day pass without saying Happy Birthday to the delightfully perverse, decadent, smug, and abrasive Mlle. Azalais, the person who makes it necessary for me to sign myself "Azz-the-Younger" on assorted mailing lists, as she's Az-the-Elder.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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