Baa, baa, lj-sheep, haven't you anything better to do (yes sir yes sir three posts full).

If you and I were alone in my room right now, what would we be doing?

(Now post this in *your* LJ, and see what people want do with you.)

Four Years

Four years ago on the 22nd, I fell in love with Darkside.

This was before LJ, but I went to the trouble of digging up my old paper journal of the time to look up the date, and since I'd done that much, I typed up the journal entries.

I didn't think it was love, of course. It never starts out as love.
I got really suspicious and looked into fascination spells and their effects.
I was cured (as much as I could ever be, now that the latent crush was activated) and found out who did it, and went off on one of my typical rambling multi-page journal entries.

I am amused that with the advent of LJ, I find it more advantageous to curb my journaling to something approaching sane/short. I have always written a lot in journals, not just on LJ. If LJ went down again tomorrow and stayed down, I'd go back to my own computer and paper.

It'll be four years that I've loved this complex and difficult man, four years since I joined hands with him and prayed that disaster not strike Sis's friends and family, four years since the first time our energies melted together. I still love him, and he's still very much himself. Four years is such a very short time in the longer view...

Necessary replacement things

Today, after determining that I'm still on the training schedule, I went and got my eyes checked, complete with dilation. I picked out new frames and placed my order. Yay new prescription! I have enough wrong with my eyes that it took quite a bit of doing to get something that would work.

If I got contact lenses, I'd probably have to get bifocal contact lenses -- one part prescription and the other part plain, because my eyes are getting to the point where I have to take off the glasses to look at small things up very close. For anything closer than a foot away from my eyes, I need my eyes to be bare.

After that, Sis and my new disposable sunglasses and I went to look at beds with Sis (with, of course, a detour to the place where she's staying to get the ad to figure out where the hell the place we were going was). I must have looked very stoned. I've been a lot quieter than my usual in-person chatterbox self lately, and people are getting worried.

I looked at beds, and wound up getting a sturdy wooden futon frame. I already have a futon mattress, and I can always replace it later. It'll come in next Monday, and Clover's husband has the truck, so he can get it from there to here.

Overused Phrases

From someone, probably someone on my friendslist, someone like trollprincess, I came across the phrase, "What fresh hell is this?" and found that it was delightful and evocative of so many parts of my life. As usual when words come into my possession, I've been altering them: snipping and trimming and fastening and filling to fit.

As also is usual with words like that, I think them more than I say them. This afternoon, while bed-shopping, I decided that perhaps the futon frame could be delayed in the putting together -- "Until this fresh hell clears out," I said.

Sis, as usual, knew exactly what I meant.