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It's a beautiful day in this end of reality

My ever-boingy state of mind has decided that no, really, it is a beautiful life. Contributing factors involve my best friend (first and foremost), the weather (kind of good), lack of immediate stress at work (database is continuing to win, training has gotten into a lull), good music on the way (Stars Fall Home will be shipping soon), and just all-around omg awesome.

I also must learn to sing "Fly Little Bird", though possibly with people other than myself.

Must also touch base on The Cat, for while The Cat is a very nice furry and snuggly guest, she is also a meowy and occasionally stinky guest.

But. I have a best friend, and all's right in the world. I was clinging very hard to that all through Saturday night to prevent myself from completely becoming lost in the depths of depression, and I could feel the difference when I held "but I have a best friend" between myself and the rest of the world.

I must ask Lady Malfoy about her son's cellphone provider, and about the Family Plans involving a certain sure-to-be-popular movie. If I play my cards right, I might be able to be included in a Group Outing, which would be a bit weird as I'm not actually family, but ... well. I have a best friend?

Darkside is starting to have the same hair as my one uncle (one of the non-related ones, otherwise I'd be very weirded out), which really amuses me a whole lot. My uncle is a lot taller. (Speaking of said uncle, my favorite humor columnist put into my head a mental picture that now will not die, that of said uncle jogging with a work buddy and talking about the logistics of dinosaur resurrection. It could have been entirely someone else, but it was the right company shirt and general location, so now I'm seeing my uncle plotting a real-life Jurassic Park. Which crosses over with The Poodle of Doom, and that's just entirely too scary for one day.)

If you're hanging out in the same IRC channel that I am, it's temp keyed on account of Troll Activity. See someone to get let in, or take an accurate guess.



In other news, the news around the world has a lot of gnarly stuff going down. Be safe, be kind if possible, and if not possible, at least be merciful?

Encouraging biofuel perspective.

Idiots, faking a psycho gunman attack is something you do with consenting adults.
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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