Sunday notes

A random piece of paper found with my stuff:
"I'm in ur dialer canceling ur campaigns."
"Most of the color I wear, no one else ever sees."

Hanging out with twirlandswirl was fun! There were photos. (Must upload when not zombified.) There was a Quest for Cookies! There was a Voice Post of Silliness. (That's me in the background screaming about the Dark Side. This is actually not a reference to my best friend; this is a reference to the "Come to the Dark Side. We have cookies!" thing, which has been adopted as the motto of Comms.)

There was a weirdling in Subway. The weirdling looked at us funny. We looked at the weirdling funny. The event passed without much more incident than that, except for the part where we giggled and mocked the fashion choices of the weirdling after the weirdling was way out of range.

hcolleen and I can giggle simultaneously. Like, it's the same giggle. We start and stop at the same moment, too.

Weekend: Nuts.

Twirl on the relative sanity of the Ohio fans: "Their
mascot is a nut."

---

Talked to Darkside rather a lot yesterday. We took a
few minutes before heading out to hang out with Twirl,
then quite a lot later on. Both of us had several
moments of not knowing what to say. He somehow manages
to reassure a paranoid and angstful Lunatic that since
he's not going to do anything stupid like tell her
that he doesn't want to be friends anymore, that
there's no need of any extra special reassurance of
any type. Because it's him. Because it's me. Because
we've been friends for too long and through too much
to let anything little wedge us apart.

And that works. It really does. I've been working on
the thing where I'm totally a paranoid and histrionic
wench (one of the things that doesn't show up as well
on LJ as it might, given that I do try to squash it
down to a minimum. But it breaks through and breaks
free, and I know it to be a place where I'm completely
insane and do need a reality check.

Yes, he's not Mr. Communication, and there are places
where he could really use to get his act together
(like the time when I drove to Mesa and he drove to
Phoenix, timing our departures such that when his mom
called his cellphone to see where he was, he was
within a mile of my apartment), but when a post-teen
butthead who I know has communication issues fails
to communicate with me, this is not grounds
for completely losing my shit over it. Frustrated
growling, perhaps, but not heartbroken weeping.

WHAT.

It is rumored that Field fears me because I can
allegedly hex people. (I can definitely fuck up their
spreadsheets.) This is a better state of affairs than
I originally would have thought, because certain
elements (and when I say "elements", I mean "including
supervisors") seem to be picking on the Ephraim-clone.


Why? He's gay.

Can we join together in a rousing chorus of "Oh,
fuck no!" ?