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Lazy Sunday

BPAL: London: Smells like slightly dusty roses in the bottle. On drydown, there's some weird lemon action coming out, but it's still nice-smelling. Not going to replace Rose Red, though. (I still have plenty of Rose Red.)

Sunday afternoon is evidently the time to get comments on suggestions posts. I'm helping maintain over there. My role is helping tag the posts, helping track the discussion and chill out any flamewars. (Though things have been relatively chill ever since that one post trying to duplicate the role of the Abuse team, except with Let's Play Nice And Polite -- Three Strikes and You're Out. I do actually feel sorry for the person who suggested that, because they really are going to have a difficult time living on the internet if they're not prepared to enforce their own standards of politeness in their own space. Especially if that's how they react to people disagreeing with them.) There are some really good ones this round; I especially like the LJ bookmark suggestion; I think I've got a good basis there for the devs to think in a direction that would be do-able. Even the ability to mark the last entry you were looking at in any given filter with a nice big sticker so you can see it when you reload and scroll down would be absolutely wicked. Come to think of it, someone could probably Greasemonkey one up.

Called Darkside. We talked yesterday for a while (I was in the pool, yay). When I tried in the morning-ish, he was playing chess with his mom. I called this evening and we chatted. I've been able to give him more little updates on life in general. I mentioned getting lost in Mesa trying to get to Chandler, and if we'd been going anywhere else, I'd have given him a call and seen if he'd wanted to come along, but we were going to RHPS, and I knew that he wouldn't want to go to that, so I didn't bother him. He appreciated both courtesies, I think. He avoids RHPS like the plague, and I'm not about to argue with his decision on that front.

I did laundry. This was especially fun as I'm not sure where my laundry bag is: I cleaned in between then and now, see, and then I don't know where I put it. The window screen in the laundry room was falling down. I chatted with Downstairs on my way back up. We didn't disturb her this week (good!) though she did notice a little bit of stampeding-elephant action (my phrasing) this morning about 4:30 when she was getting up. That would have been JD packing. She's the one with the cat named Leia. She didn't name that cat. She's a sucker for cats. She's got an old cat of hers back, about fourth-hand. That cat's name is Susan. She didn't name that cat either. She quit smoking a while ago! I'm so proud of her! She refers to her "partner", and said partner is referred to as female. Yay for assortedly queer neighbors!

I've been in a giggly, tuneful mood all day. # = that filtered post & friends, feel free to slap me at any time if I get too obnoxious. (Trust me. I probably will. Y'all know who you are.)

Tomorrow: dentist! I get to lose the last of my wisdom teeth, except for the one that did not come in! Also, I get to make sure to fill out the Morningstar Reports at work before I leave, which should be brilliantly fun.
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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