azurelunatic: a bunch of grapes on the vine (Default)
Via [personal profile] highlander_ii: http://www.katewillaert.com/ljstats/ will work if you substitute "dreamwidth.org" for "livejournal.com", as DW keeps its stats in the same place. This tool grabs about 5000 comments at once, so if you have more than 5000 comments in your journal, you can do some quick math to see where you want to put your startid if you'd like to see the most recent rather than the people from the beginning of time.

Who comments the most on this journal? )
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azurelunatic: Animated woman's gloved hand dripping with her own blood.  (bleeding)
Oh, uterus.

So because of reasons (mostly involving PCOS and my desire to maybe #bloodcannon a little less), I've been thinking about an IUD for a while. And since a few of my friends and I have entered into a mutual support pact about embodiment issues, it was well time for me to schedule an appointment for that.

Having determined to do the thing, I was rather in mind of doing it promptly, and since there has not in fact been any reason to suspect I might be pregnant (owing to not having been around any unchaperoned sperm since 2004-ish), sooner was better than later.

Unfortunately, the online appointment booking thing was down at the time I tried to get an appointment, so I wound up calling in; because I called in, I got an appointment with some random person from the office, rather than the uterus inspector I'd painstakingly picked out from the list. (The painstaking process went like: are they in this office? Do they not go on about how much they like babies? Does something about their profile strike me as friendly to me and people like me? OK then.)

Since it had been a while since seeing a uterus inspector when not in a highly traumatized and upset state of mind, and the state of the sexual health care art continues to change, I came prepared with a short list of questions whose answers I actually rather thought might apply to my current life. (I also have come to the conclusion that while I have no particular wish to get surgery which is super optional, I want to carefully monitor the risk & pain tradeoffs between keeping the uterus in and having the fucker OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT, and remove it as soon as it tips, rather than attempting to keep it around much past its best-by date.)

Read more... )

That was about that. I collected my things and headed out, leaving promises to get the sex ed hat properly up on Ravelry someday. And I headed for home, a little disoriented and definitely feeling profuse bleeding, but not feeling kicked anywhere tender.

I came home to assorted encouragement on Twitter. Of particular note were the "uterus explosion" misreadings, and then a bit of sublime silliness with [twitter.com profile] atavistique.

[twitter.com profile] azurelunatic I think it will be time for tea when I get home.
[twitter.com profile] atavistique and indeed there will be time/ to murder and create/ before the taking of toast and tea
[twitter.com profile] azurelunatic Do I dare/ Disturb the uterus?
[twitter.com profile] atavistique I have lingered in the chambers of the womb/ by follicles wreathed with endometrium red and brown
[twitter.com profile] azurelunatic Till the speculum is lowered, in the gloom.

After the alluded-to pot of strong tea, I felt equal to dinner out with Purple, which was largely pleasant. I finally got to introduce him to the bread pudding, which was spectacular and my entire reason for bringing him. After dessert, I looked at my phone when Purple stepped away from the table, and found that I had received an emotionally jarring text. I showed Purple, and reached across the table to take his hand while I freaked out gently, and mourned the world in which certain terrible things had not yet happened. Eventually we repaired to the parking lot, to discuss the hardships of having been the kind of grownup who lost the rock-paper-scissors for presidency of the HOA board (this was the "bagsy not-it" game), pie that has tentacles, and the way he's *mostly* a well-behaved grown-up, but there are just moments when he has to fuck with people's brains. I have rather more of those moments, and mostly I let them off harmlessly, but every now and then there's something like the helldesk software, or ... other, less innocent forms of fuckery ... and I aim myself carefully before going off.

A good 12 hours on, and the bleeding's slowed to something more normal. And now, having written all this, I shall perhaps consider bed!
azurelunatic: A castle with rockets and fire cannons with the DW D on it. (Castle Dreamwidth)
After a long hiatus, one of my friends has returned to Dreamwidth, and I thought: what better an opportunity to throw an encirclement meme?

I think my circle are nifty people who might possibly get along with each other. Feel free to introduce yourselves in the comments, and get to know other potentially like-minded people!

My crowd includes a lot of people who are tech-ish, who are writer-y, and who love a bad good pun.
azurelunatic: Dying Spock saluting Kirk through heavy glass.  (spock)
This is a very brief update that is deliberately light on details. Further information is probably not forthcoming in public. (If you want the story, try in person with coffee or tea; bourbon's not necessary.)

Very recently, someone I have known and I tried dating, to see if it could work. Upon further discussion, we have broken up, but remain better friends than when we started.

Mostly, this is to serve as notification that the matrix "my ex", having remained stable with [personal profile] sithjawa at the top of the stack, has been expanded; references to "my ex" with very un-[personal profile] sithjawa-like attributes are ... rather less likely to be [personal profile] sithjawa.
azurelunatic: a bunch of grapes on the vine (Default)
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  • Wed, 21:01: "I'll be glad when soda machines don't have lag again. I'll be glad when soda machines don't have boot time."-Purple https://t.co/aRfHZ8wmAT
  • Thu, 09:58: RT @ObliviousWit: It's weird how fast this "internet threat" thing got figured out once people started threatening cops. Sorry, women. http…
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azurelunatic: funny t-shirt: "I am a bomb technician: if you see me running, try to keep up." (bomb tech)
In the past 8-ish years, there were a few Dudes Hitting On Me In Ways That I Did Not Appreciate moments.


There was the guy who seemed affable but vaguely sleazy, seemed to think that throwing money at situations was the best way to help what he wanted to happen to happen, and had a very quiet girlfriend whose round stainless steel necklace's clasp took a hex key. "I like your necklace," I said quietly, and she looked surprised and then colored.

He seemed to be flirting with me; I was flattered but sort of ignored it, since I wasn't into him that way, and he already had a partner. He pestered me for my legal name so he could add me on Facebook. I said that I didn't answer to that, really, but he persisted and I gave it to him. "Oh, you're right, you're really not a [birthname]," he said.

Later, he would contact me, calling me by my birthname, telling me that he'd broken up with his sub and he wanted me to come over, dress up in a maid costume, and help him ... move? clean? something.

I was not enthused. I believe that was around when I blocked him. There were just all these little sub-threshold things, adding up to the idea that I didn't want or need to be around him, and I owed him exactly zero.


There was the guy who came into IRC all excited about having Finally Found His Tribe, who hardcore pinged the alarms of one of the guys. Cut for details. )



There was the Creepy Note Leaver at work. Two days in close succession, I got a post-it with the same bad handwriting left on my cube at work. My Overlady was appalled. I was appalled. My manager was appalled. I took down the schedule I was keeping for when I was expected in next, and I found a place to hide a motion-activated webcam in the forestry of office supplies near my monitor.

No third note was left.


There was the Creepy Security Guard at work. He'd drop by and say hello, and I thought he was sweet *but*. There was just this little edge that said he was interested, and it was not something that I really wanted. As long as he wasn't mentioning it, though, I was okay pretending to not notice. Read more... )

What are the odds of him pulling that one? Unknown. But [list of friends] did not beat the odds. What makes me think I am different or safe? What is his capacity for harm, should he decide to execute it? Substantial.

I chose to avoid being alone with him as much as possible.


There was the night janitor at work, who was very sweet and I did not feel threatened but it seemed awkward as hell.

That was shortly before my contract ended. I worked on my timing, in not being excessively available. Then I was gone.
azurelunatic: a bunch of grapes on the vine (Default)
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My bio as of prior to today:

Read more... )
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azurelunatic: A pajama-clad small child uses a rainbow-striped cruciform parachute. From illustration of "Go the Fuck to Sleep". (go the fuck to sleep)
It was the traditional dinner with Purple tonight. This is the day when I was expecting to definitely see Purple after vacation, if there'd been no other opportunity. There turned out to be a beer bash, but at short enough notice to Purple that it was too late to invite me. So we did dinner; Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly is out this week. Despite getting lost (got off at the wrong exit), I got there a split second before Purple, and then scored a table while he was getting through the truckfuck in the parking lot.

We talked about many things. The main thing on my mind lately has been a kind of heavy topic, and Purple is always a delightful combination of helpful, thoughtful, calling me on any bullshit he notices, supportive, and irreverently hilarious. We also discussed: the amount of work and/or luck it takes to get a suitable counseling professional; the parameters of "bro"; the difference between one-off objectification of men and the commodified objectification of women; toxic masculinity; the angry and terrible divorces of about 4 different guys in R's working group; marriage-related name change and how "Lunatic" might be a perfectly okay driver's license name but not a resume name; role inflexibility in formal power exchange; Purple's applied-ferret-in-packing-peanuts approach to pissing off Domly McDom types trying to establish control over social groups; that time Purple made the guy with the obnoxiously big dick leave a chatroom by agreeing with him; there certainly must have been other topics also ...

Purple started chirping me about my general liking for burying my face into his shirt and hiding under his arm, and pointed out that really, he was only six foot so it was a little awkward... When I accused him of chirping me, I had to explain that it was a term of art from hockey and not related to chickens, so therefore in this context it was a really bad pun.


Occasionally Purple is the Good Example.

Case in point: I have not in fact been counting the number of times that Purple has said something that would have made me back slowly off from an acquaintance or non-friend. It's happened. The fact that I'm not able to count is a good thing. If I were counting, it would be a count-up to some sort of unknowable explosion or ending. Instead, each moment is a new beginning.

Read more... )

I have not been counting the number of times I have realized that Purple is (still) more trusted than oxygen, more precious than emeralds, and done this delicate dance. Each time we are successful in navigating the issue, balancing our perspectives, and helping each other see it more clearly, he implicitly affirms that I have made the correct decision in extending the hand of friendship. I never wish to risk losing him over a misunderstanding.

We keep fucking up with each other. We keep talking it out. Occasionally, very rarely, we emerge with a fragile shell of a shattered trust and a bit of a scuff mark, and we're quietly defensive until the friendship draws us back in again. More often, we emerge closer to each other, closer at understanding our wide and weird world a little better as well.

On balance, it's worth it.


By the end of the night, my glitter eyeshadow had migrated down my face and neck all the way to my tits. Purple was amused.

We weren't meaning to, because we were both tired, but Purple and I stood out talking together for quite a while. He is amused by the state my brain's been in. I told him at least part of the story which ends with me raising a sparklepeen inspired by Twilight in the air and shouting "FREEDOM!" and then clinking it with a glass of booze in a toast.

Purple probably won't make it to the Seanan party tomorrow, or the Charlie Stross event Sunday; he's got some reading to do for the HOA meeting on Tuesday. Therefore dinner will probably be Wednesday, if it happens.

Some of Purple's hair got stuck on my lip gloss when we hugged goodnight. Apparently I should not lick his hair in the current state it's in -- sadly there have been water disruptions to his place which prevented proper shampooing.

Speaking of lip gloss, I think some exploded in my jacket pocket. This is going to be fun... I had put my hand in my pocket for some reason, and then realized that things in there felt ... unaccountably sticky. I withdrew my hand and rubbed fingers against each other, then reached back in. Yup, sticky, all right. I pulled my hand out and examined my fingers, which glistened in the dim street lamps and under the moon.

"What is that?" Purple asked.
"I think it's lip gloss."

It didn't appear to be colored, so I eventually reckoned that it must have been the transparent one with all the little iridescent glitter in it. Yay, cosmetic emergencies...


Something really hard to put my finger on has shifted in the dynamic between Purple and me, since he came back from vacation, and I'm enjoying it. I'm more at ease in his presence, more willing to be vulnerable, and delighted to tell more crass jokes of the type that make us both bust up laughing. Though occasionally they result in me turning beet red and facepalming repeatedly.


I've definitely been doing more Tarot readings lately. I should probably brush up and start carrying my deck more regularly. (I will probably keep saying this every day that I participate in a reading without having my own deck near to hand.)
azurelunatic: California poppies, with a bright blue sky and the sun. (poppies)
Thursday the 30th, I was finally feeling recovered from the trip (mostly, if not entirely unpacked) and elected to go to the farmers' market with Guide Dog Aunt for the first time in ... quite a long time. Our schedules have not worked out for that for a while. We caught up on stuff, especially all the fun I'd had at the conference. She really liked meeting Purple, and the sense of her commentary was such that I may have to explicitly mention that no, we are not in fact kissing friends.

Friday is the day that's often got beer bash and dinner with Purple and Ms. Antisocialest Butterfly, but neither of those seemed to be going on for the 1st. I had a quiet evening at home, which was still welcome after the hectic conference week. Purple is enjoying some jet lag, and of course first Friday is 2600. We'd had our Wednesday dinner so I was feeling sufficiently caught up to not worry.

Purple might have had plans for the 4th; if he didn't, I was going to ask if he wanted to come over and watch the fireworks from the beach. That didn't turn out to happen, but [personal profile] quartzpebble came over. We had hot dogs and cucumbers and tomatoes and cherries and blueberries, drank tea and bourbon (both separately and together), and entirely missed the fireworks due to staying inside with the food, fiber arts, and rapid exchange of information.

I had the traditional dinner with Purple on Tuesday the 5th, and we discussed many topics.

Now that the worst of the conference pressure is over, I've been commenting in more communities and journals again.
azurelunatic: a bunch of grapes on the vine (Default)
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azurelunatic: California poppies, with a bright blue sky and the sun. (poppies)
Stayed up until fuck o'clock, partly talking with [personal profile] quartzpebble and then [personal profile] kaberett, and partly because I was so angry I was shaking and couldn't sleep. (I do not recommend getting that angry. It disrupts everything. Even when a disruption is in order, it's still unpleasant.)

Woke up at 8-ish (new normal? let's try for now?) and then went back to bed for a nap around 11. Slept until nearly 2, but felt good about that.

Worked through a Tarot reading with StPatience. I do really need to start carrying my regular deck around with me again, especially if my life is going to start throwing Senior Wizard situations at me. (It always goes in cycles, and this seems to be an 'on' cycle.)

Was grumbling about some new information from last night with Purple. He is being sensible and dear as always.

Any day involving the Evil Overlord List might be a little better than it could have otherwise been. http://www.eviloverlord.com/lists/overlord.html

Finally got simultaneous time, brains, and motivation to figure out what the next blocker step for the (April) conference wrap-up was, and execute on it. Yay!

Next, I should possibly tweak the resume again and put it up on some of the usual places in addition to sending it out privately.

Yesterday was (possibly annual? but the year-cycles seem wacky) apartment inspection; due to Possibly Asking Purple Over cleaning, pre-conference cleaning, post-conference cleaning, and [personal profile] quartzpebble visiting for 7/4 cleaning, I just had a little tidying to do instead of a lot. Yay!

Yesterday I also managed to get in somewhere over 10,000 steps/bounces according to the watch. I have largely switched to the pebble for step tracking over the fitbit, despite the way it's not integrated with All Of My Things, because of better wearability. I should see about getting the numbers from that re-integrated into my automated and more easily accessed recorded life. (I have been a not-so-closet lifelogger since about 1995/96 or thereabouts, when the idea that you might be able to rebuild your personality from backup came into my radar. Given that I was a teenager with personality issues and paranoia around the fallibility of human memory, the idea of being able to restore from a stable branch was compelling. Over the years, other forms of lifelogging have crept in, and I have encouraged them.)

Today I got distracted partway through the evening, and didn't get in the full 10,000 -- though part of that is, a wrist-mounted tracker does not necessarily pick up bouncing that goes on while both hands are on the keyboard. And since I'd been drawn into chat, it may not have been tracking accurately.

My abs are already much more happy with me again, which comes with a few benefits in possible flexibility in that I can hold steady more easily when stretching out my back.

Despite ragemonster last night, I feel actually pretty chill this evening. It turns out that tea and chat is a really, really good idea to detangle my brain. The new electric kettle is helping (as the old one annoyed me).

Friday is traditional dinner night. There's a Mira Grant book party up in the city on Saturday. I informed Purple. Purple is going to try to hang out with Mr. Antisocial Butterfly (whose schedule has been unpleasant lately) and therefore might not make it.

Fishie's laptop has been causing her grief (looked like a failed hard drive) and it seems to be repaired and on its way back to her. She'd been stressing out about getting it back before having to head off from the intern position, so this is excellent.
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