Friday the 13th was not massively unlucky for me. I have not looked for ill-luck on Fridays the 13th since elementary school. Somewhere that day, probably on the phone with MissKat, we came up with the concept that telephone numbers that have the 9-key letter 'i' in them are imaginary. This is the number 4. If you have a 4 in your telephone number, your telephone number is imaginary. I grew up in Fairbanks, Alaska. Fairbanks is (907) 479, with some 474 for the university, 451 in the city, some 456, then 455 out in Golden Valley... heh. Then for most of the time I lived in Phoenix, my telephone number ended with 42. (The nice fellow on the line when I was getting our phone service set up asked if there was any number I particularly wanted. I think I inquired after 13 first; none of those; I asked after 42; I got that.)
Saturday the 14th was not particularly busy except for the spamwhackery.
Sunday the 15th involved more spam work. I have started pulling stats, I might have mentioned? It turns out that it is reasonably educational to look at a breakdown of the sorts of spam reports that Dreamwidth is getting. I'd like to commend my spamwhackers for attending to reports promptly, and I'd also like to commend the people getting spammed for deleting their genuine spam quickly. If you delete spam fast and the spam gets whacked fast, it can diminish the number of other people who get hit by that same spammer, which results in a better experience all around for everyone.
I'm not entirely sure what I got up to on Monday and Tuesday. Twitter was not enlightening. Either Monday or Tuesday night, I had a weird dream that involved going around places with people (standard fare), except one of the places was a building that seemed to be across between my dad's tool shed and the woodshed, back home in Alaska. Tupshin, of all people, was living there, and he was showing off his handiwork and what he had done with the place: he had been weaving ribbons into interesting patterns on the fronts of throw pillows. Truefax. My head is a weird, weird place. Later on in this same dream, I was hanging out with my best friend. We were waiting for some fireworks or something. There were a bunch of other random people that we didn't know there, and my best friend said something tactless and foot-in-mouth. The guys (of course it was a group of guys, and they were all taller than him and outweighed him) got up in his face and hoped that he hadn't meant that the way it sounded. Which he hadn't, but he kept digging himself in deeper. I tried to smooth things over while he GTFO, and I was totally taking advantage of being female and the way they probably would not hit a girl. It was a very uneasy scenario and I hope that if he ever manages to get himself into this situation in places that are not my head, that he handles it better.
AO3 Open Beta did go live, and I got in line pretty quickly, so by early Wednesday (the 18th) morning, I was cheerfully importing my old fic into the archive and cleaning up the weirdness from the AO3 importer vs. Dreamwidth. (I hear this has since been fixed.) I then stumbled over waldorph's lovely series: http://waldorph.livejournal.com/108982.html starts it, and it's a slight AU where Kirk is specifically a math genius, does not fall for Pike's ploy, but winds up tending bar in San Francisco, and matching brains with Spock. rb has been enjoying it too. ;)
My parents' old propane stove died Monday, around when Mama returned from her visit to Pennsylvania. This probably deserves its own entry, because that stove is a Saga unto itself.
Thursday the 19th involved the farmers' market with my aunt, noting the way that they were going to have a special Wednesday session the following week, and then a walk later in the afternoon. A friend of my cousin's was visiting. My brain got earwormed with Jonathan Coulton's "Mandelbrot Set", but since my brain also does the lyrics as well, it was rather notably playing not "bad-ass fucking fractal" but "bad ass-fucking fractal". Different concepts here. The evening was TV Night, with major stuff going down in SPN-land. I haven't bonded to the show and its characters as thoroughly as a lot of the people around me have, so while it was Clearly Major, it did not hit me like a ton of bricks.
Friday the 20th involved my self-esteem completely crashing. I started off babbling about one thing, and wound up sharing my self-loathing and lousy sense of self-worth with the whole filter. Sorry, guys. :( On the up side, I did wind up talking to my baby sister, and that is generally fun. I learned that there is a purported sexual practice called "jarring", and Twitter told me that it was difficult to find images of it. (I refused to Google it on general principle, but then it proved so safe to image search that I was hard-pressed to even find one image that was actually of it.)
I have been getting behind on my friends page/reading list reading, and the email updates for the LJ news posts have been coming about a day late. There's an LJ Facebook page now. (There were some LJ Facebook pages earlier, but those were volunteer-focused, I guess?) In any case, this appears to be operated by the new employee, and both the Facebook page and the Twitter account are getting Writer's Block questions. (This does seem to have the unintended effect of moving some of the Writer's Block responses to Facebook and Twitter, rather than having people update on LJ.)
Saturday the 21st heralded a personal moment of realization: I've been trying to use the <em> and <cite> tags rather than <i>, and at first I sort of had to force myself to do that. I was typing out a comment, and before I submitted it, I looked at it, and realized that I'd used the proper tags, one for quoting a bit of fic, and one for fangirling about it. Go, me.
Crossposted. comments.