Notes while sorting stuff to punch or shred:

Vaporware for LJ feature: a semi-automatically created "mutual friends" filter. To reduce the amount of stress thinking that your favorite humor columnist might pop by your journal for whatever reason and see you talking about something personal when you in fact have no personal relationship. (Though my favorite humor columnist is in fact in my friend-of-friend circle, and therefore within the circle of people who I wouldn't mind seeing talk about something random.)

"O.M. Nicely" is not a name I would saddle a child with.

I can usually tell the sex of an adult chicken on sight. I have here a chicken photo calendar that I'm going to migrate over to my Google calendar for record-keeping purposes. I glanced at the first picture and saw that he was a cock. I flipped to the page before that, and thought "hen". Then I did a double-take, because his comb was about the same size and color as hers, and her eye was just as glaringly amber. (I talked at writing group about my theory that it's increased blood flow to the comb and wattles that make them grow and expand so much, though it could also be hormones.) I looked back, and yeah, she was a 'cauna, and hen-feathered. So she had to have been either a hen or a very femme rooster.

...wow, January 2004 was bad. I was tracking my moods on the calendar, and wow, ow. I'm glad I have it tracked, though, because that's rather interesting to look back at. I'm going to get it off paper and on electronic calendar first, and then I'm going to look into reconciling it with LJ. Good gods, what a mess. ...And I'll surely be saying that looking back now, but at that time I was on the whole healthier and happier than I'd been at any time post-CTY. (I date it back to CTY, because CTY was a trigger event telling me that it could be so much better than it was, and it wasn't.)

I stopped by Burger King and Trader Joe's and blew $10 of my plasma money. I had a coupon for BK, and I wanted tea supplies at TJ's. I like having the plasma money for incidentals. It keeps the rest of the budget so much happier, especially when there's a car to feed.

Further Day Clean Clean Extravaganza!

I have written calendar codes for a lot of things. A black box around the day means depression. A green line at the top of the day means a "green" mood overshadowing the whole day. (pyrogenic and moonberryq are probably going to be the only ones to get that.) A red box indicates the periodic shedding of the uterine lining, in full blast. Red dots mean the leading and trailing edges of same.

There were a whole bunch of papers in the stacking file organizer on the top of my desk. Now there are slightly fewer, as some have been removed to go in my book of comics, some have been punched and put back in the queue awaiting putting in binders (when I can unearth the appropriate binders) and two grocery bags worth of them have been shredded and thrown away. (That's two bags post-shredder, mind you.)

Also this evening, I went through two dresser drawers in the wooden dresser dividing the room. This is kind of a crucial thing! I now have actual space for stuff that I had not thought I had space for elsewhere. Earlier, I did a load of dishes that included candleholders after sorting through the incense drawer and the bottom candle drawers and the oils drawer. Witchy household tip: if your dishwasher has hot enough water and the dishes are placed right so that when the wax melts, it's pounded by water and lifted off the bloody candleholder, it's a lot easier for cleaning slightly waxy in a lot of place ritual glass and ceramic than doing it by hand.

I got a nice shower and put more glitter-stuff in the glitter-gel bottle. hcolleen is kind of unnerved by it, perhaps because she has to share a bathroom with it and the rest of you don't.

Now for ten years we've been on our own / ... / but that's not how it used to be

Since CTY came up in the last post, I had to poke around Google. digiclan.org has a whole lot of old stuff on it. It wasn't my clan, not really; I was just one of the offshoots. Sort of. I wonder if there'd be any interest in an argh-and-spink wiki. That could be fun. I was poking around the digiclan site, and I had my hand over my mouth and nose in that way that women do when we're not sure if we're going to cry or not. It's been so long. So, so long. Trust in Snapple.

There's just this sense of loss and longing all rolled up into one. That exceptionally geekycool teenager is not me, anymore. If I'd been less focused on Shawn, would I have been more of a part of them? What if I'd lived in another state, any other state? What if I'd had the freedom to roam about the country to go see them all? What if I'd stayed with the Lady E and married her? What if I'd gotten an e-mail address sooner? Unless I unhinge my mind enough to go skipping between potential universes (again), I'll never know. I don't want to leave my life-that-I-have. Interests/Hobbies: listening to woeful (or, less often, gleeful) tales of people's lovelives OMG that was me vs. Shawn; I don't even think I have half the e-mail archives that I had of all that rich intertwined text where our hearts & souls were laid bare... "It's called nostalgia, dear."

The media. The traditions. The people. Oh, the people. My people. My friends. There was the time before CTY when I was always an outsider. When CTY came, I became an insider. And it wasn't the kind of thing where you had to change your whole personality to like what the popular people liked. It was getting people who liked the same things, so once we connected, we were automatically cool. We shared around more cool stuff. I'd never really thought about black nail polish until we started wearing it. There were all these things I'd never done before, things that were excellently cool, that automatically became enshrined above and beyond their inherent coolness just because I'd never done them before and it was us. Insane injokes. Self-referential references.

Sugar high hair dye kamikaze fruit fly. ... It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel...
it's the end of the world as we know it ...

LIVE! LIVE! LIVE!

Argh & SpInk missed our ten-year reunion. Josh and I got together for a bit in the winter and it was great, but it ... it wasn't ...

I met a girl who sang the blues / I asked her for some happy news / but she just smiled and turned away...

...I'm not sure if I'm going to start with laughing or crying or both. Either case, I'm going to curl up in bed soon, with my nice safe rocks and my nice safe shoe lightsabre.

July 4, 1995. Clinton, NY. The soccer fields near the Great American.

Wanna know what happens when a granola bar meets half a box of (squished) Junior Mints?

Pickles and ice-cream!

(cue a whole bunch of talented yeeth cracking up laughing and telling an ADHD teenage guy who eats like a hummingbird that he must be pregnant)