"Well, yippee-fucky-i-ey." --Adam

Adam's home, and we'll see exactly how the dynamics of this entire thing work out. I think, if he just calls me beforehand each time, so I'm not unpleasantly surprised, that this thing with him and V boinking as friends could work out.

My name is?

The accents were cheesy as fuck, the music sucked, and lestat started of his diary with " I am the Vampire Lestat" ( what shithead starts out their diary telling their own name!). --renwick's commentary on Queen of the Damned


As a matter of fact, I tend to start every new volume of my diary telling my own name. This is one of the things that makes me suspect I'm a fictional character living in a created world, because each new volume of my journal sparks the latest self-assessment from me. I tell my own name, my age, where I'm living at the time, what I look like, who I love, who I hate, and a little bit about myself that I think significant enough, or little-known enough, to publish there. I didn't start off this journal that way; I jumped right in because the soft grey tree volume of my journal had shown up missing. I miss that journal, because it's got everybody's contact information here in Arizona in it, and some rather good sketches. It's got my memories from the Camping Apartment in it. I want it back!

I find it useful to conduct a self-assessment every now and then. My name is Joan Laurel [....], known online primarily as Azure Lunatic or Azz. I live in Phoenix at the moment; my heart belongs in Alaska; that is subject to change if ever Darkside should let me know that I would be welcome to share a lifetime with him.

Current clothing: purple nightgown. No watch. Glasses. No makeup.

Three rings: two pentagram rings, the plain one upright for microcosm on middle finger of right hand; a more ornate one one-point-down for macrocosm on middle finger of left hand. My "patience ring" as a placekeeper on my left ring finger, silver and hematite, delicate and feminine, to prevent me from putting a more foolish ring (one given me by another person, that is) before it's truly time to.

Necklaces: two cords, three pendants: a crystal heart with engraved blue roses on the back that shine through, symbolic of finding my true love -- I had Darkside place this necklace about my neck, he being the friend who is most notable for not letting me betray myself; and on the other cord, the pendants show an octogram and a pentagram. The disks are the same size, and fit together nicely. The octogram is not your traditional pointy arrow chaos star, but it symbolizes chaos to me as well as several other things.

Earrings, one. Second hole in left ear. Silver rose stud. The other holes in my ears are highly allergic and only accept silver or other guaranteed hypoallergenic earrings, thanks to a nasty ear infection when I was fifteen, a bad case of Swimmer's Ear that made me unable to eat anything other than soft foods because I couldn't close my mouth enough to chew.

State of the Temple Address

Well, the address of the temple hasn't changed. The Temple has too few dresses.

...Other than that, things around the house are almost deadly dull. The A/C is dripping again; there was a fastener on a pipe that was loose. One of the maintainence guys got woken up to come and deal with it. We are hoping very much that this does not turn into another torrential downpour.

We discovered the A/C dripping yesterday when Nephew was in the corner underneath it getting a time out. We swapped him to the other corner. We are getting very sick of the A/C; Votania is considering asking, when we extend our lease, to move into another ground floor apartment, because the A/C in this one has just been such a pain in the ass.

Adam was actually home last night, but not much happy snuggling happened, because I've got a cold and he's not particularly anxious to catch it. Votania saw her Echo yesterday, which was a Good Thing. Marx still has his cold. I spent some time locked in my room yesterday evening; Votania was much encouraged that some emotional healing went on.

Pizza and beer in bed...

Chatted with V tonight on our way to the store to get shampoo etc. Adam and I had some fun this afternoon, after I got some of my interesting mental processes explained. Basically, the old saying, "Tis easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission" -- doesn't apply so much to me.

V had jumped up and down on Adam for treating the situation as he did, and ordered him to give me a good time. Which he did. He learned that the secret of good sex is your attitude toward it...

V pings like deeahblita and Kimmiebeth, oddly enough. I think this is a good thing. It ought to be a good thing.

...Now the futurepoint pings to me more like a car accident type scenario rather than a bitchstorm. This is far more dealable with, something to be aware of and watching out for, than living in fear of.