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Saturday was for anime. We watched the remainder of Gravitation, and the beginning of Weiß Kreuz. Then we went home.

Without me noticing, somehow the Relationship Status indicator in my head has changed from "Involved monogamously; that would be cheating" through "Not Fucking Interested (in any of you)" to "On the rebound -- not fair to any of us", still with a side of "still not interested unless you in fact are all that and a bundle of cat macroes".

Today is Laundry Day. hcolleen is finishing up The Book. She is folded up on the living room floor (we have living room floor! and it's not set aside for a JD!) using the two new Clue Bat 2.1s as a stand for the book. She has about 60 pages to go. She mentioned $CHAPTER_TITLE; I told her that $CHAPTER_TITLE made a lot of people cry. (It is the last chapter. I expect that I will be hit for that. Possibly with both clue bats at once.)

There was a flying beetle of Not Insignificant Size in the apartment last night. After it startled me the first three times it showed up, I resolved to lie in wait for it with a bottle of dusting spray and a fistful of paper napkins. Alas, it foiled me still by failing to start flying around when I was waiting for it. Perhaps Hermione-cat will have gotten it.

The laundry room featured approximately four small children. Perhaps it was three, as I only actually saw three of them, but I think there may have been four. I think the oldest was about eight. The oldest one was keeping the rest of them in line, more or less. They were indulging in creative activities such as leaping off the counter, accidentally dropping things in the trash, figuring out whose turn it was to leap off the counter, and making deals involving the rest of the kids not tattling about the accidentally dropping things in the trash part. There was no parent in sight. They sounded almost exactly like Tay-Tay and me when we were small. I remember being a kid too vividly sometimes. There's part of me that still wants to go and play when there are a bunch of kids having a good time, even though I can't get away with leaping off the counters and playing stupid kid social games. They left to go do something more interesting somewhere else, but they were back in the laundry room when I went in to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer. There were four of them, after all. The boy was actually possibly older than the girls, maybe nine. He was mostly staying out of their conversation, occupied as he was with playing a virulently pink keyboard (without benefit of headphones). The girls sat and chattered about topics of extreme deep interest as they perched on the row of washers.

hcolleen has finished the book. She told me that I was silly to have told her that the epilogue made people cry; she almost cried at the bit in the woods, but 19 years later was just sweet. I pointed out that it was slashers who were crying there. "There's always the next generation," she said. I mentioned the_ass_ship.

I have a glass of Vile Purple Mixture. It's actually very tasty -- mixed berries, chocolate, and cold. I pulled out the blender last night, and I think I will be enjoying Experimental Beverages for a while again. This morning's version is made without alcohol.

The new TMBG album, The Else, is a nice solid effort. It's worth getting it now for the bonus disk. I especially liked "Upside Down Frown" and "Bee of the Bird of the Moth". There aren't any immediate must-listen-to-over-and-over earworms/super-hits, but I get the idea that it will grow on me. "Climbing the Walls" is old-school TMBG, and should be combined with "Minimum Wage", "Someone Keeps Moving My Chair", "Don't Go Back to Rockville", and "Code Monkey" in an IHTFP playlist for work. (And on the bonus disk? "Sketchy Galore" is such a Strongbad song. "We Live in a Dump" is one of my new theme songs, if only for the line about friends.)
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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