howeverbrief: (Ink)
I had a dream a few nights ago that I interviewed for a promotion at my work. They told me I got the job, so I was super excited. I went into my new larger office and had no idea really what to do. I sat at my desk and shuffled papers around trying to figure it out. I left my office for a minute, and when I returned, my friend [ profile] verypretty was sitting at my desk and doing the work like a champ. I was told I had actually been demoted and was now her assistant. The next day she turned into my old boss, and the office turned into my current office, and I wanted to go back home and cry.

(My old boss is great. My friend Aurora is great. Dream world is just weird, demoralizing and manifesting my imposter syndrome that crops up every now and then. Booooo.)

Work has been pretty dull lately. My brain has a lot of time to wander, and it's not always to good places. I found myself sleepily giving myself a pep talk the other day about, "Hey, what if you actually took the time and gave it your all to writing? What if you looked over some of the short stories you started back in college and actually tried to make them into something?"

It was enough to wake me up in that moment, but knowing me, I won't actually do that. It's funny it came up at all, really, since I don't tend to like writing fiction much anymore. I liked the creative writing classes I took, but nothing really seemed to stick in terms of lasting passion. If I write fiction at all these days, it's in the form of poetry because I find I like telling really small stories and stringing together pieces and phrases rather than writing long form. I would still like to write a non-fiction book (and have several ideas for research projects), but I don't know. I'd like to think that this is just my aesthetic, but really, it's probably more of a convenient excuse because I'm impatient and don't want to devote the time I would need to make it happen. There are a million different distractions and only so much time and blah blah blah. So it goes, I guess.

I have figured out I can take notes on my phone, though, so I've been doing that instead of writing all over post-its and hoping I don't lose them. (Yes, I know. Welcome to the 21st century.) We'll see if anything comes from it.

EDIT: Wait, hold up. This is better than everything I just said.
howeverbrief: (Temp)
The weirdest friendships you find yourself in once you hit 30

Well! That was... kind of depressingly accurate. Food for thought, I suppose. Damn.

EDIT: Haha, this comic was the next entry down on my friends list. Thanks, livegerbil.
howeverbrief: (Black)
I keep meaning to update about Utah, but my sinus infection has come back full force (with prednisone completely out of my system and round seven of antibiotics finished on Monday), and I have felt pretty tired and awful. Still, here's a start to that. If I don't end up finishing it in one go (and you're still interested), come back for edits and updates. (Also, if you're friends with me on facebook, you'll have already seen the avalanche of pictures. Haha, oops.)

Read more... )

EDIT: And wow, I think that's pretty much it.
howeverbrief: (Ink)
Now for something different, though topical.

If you haven't heard by now from numerous news outlets, Fred Phelps, Sr., founder of the Westboro Baptist Church has died. (Oh yes, they of the "God hates fags" picketing fame.) One of his estranged sons reported that he was near death a few days ago, and since then, certain news about him has trickled out.

What's interesting, however, is the own church's media response to his death. Most notable to me is the last paragraph of their statement:

God forbid, if every little soul at the Westboro Baptist Church were to die at this instant, or to turn from serving the true and living God, it would not change one thing about the judgments of God that await this deeply corrupted nation and world. That is the pinnacle of your hopes, and by far the most vain. Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, or the power of God.

If this is true, then they can feel free to stay silent for the rest of their days, but I digress a little. Let me back up.

What I found telling is the news that within the last few years, Fred Phelps, Sr. had been excommunicated from his own church by a board of directors that had among its members three of his own sons. In fact, most of the Westboro congregation is made of his own family (with thirteen children, I suppose this is understandable), and the family who have left the church were mostly estranged from him. Still, he persisted in his faith-based railing against the supposed evils of the modern world until he was ejected from his post by his own family, all the while being despised by other members of his family for starting the church in the first place. Here's a man who was moved from the church he worked so hard to build to a house away from the church to live out his dying days mostly hated by those around him, it seems.

And why? Why did this man, who led this church since the 1950s, become so hated by his own members? Because after the church bounced their longtime spokeswoman, who not only spoke for the church but also defended it in their high-profile cases involving their right to picket military funerals because it constituted free speech, Phelps called for the members of his church to be kinder to each other. After all that picketing, Fred Phelps, Sr. wanted more kindness! This was apparently too much for the board to bear.

It's hard to imagine this man was once was a prominent civil rights attorney. It's even harder to think that this man, who advocated the picketing of basically anything to stay in the public eye no matter how much it incensed other people in order to espouse his very hateful message under the guise of religious superiority, could be ousted by his own flesh and blood for saying they should be kinder to each other.

I don't know how the man died because I wasn't there, if he suffered, if he had any idea of the damage he had done to other people or if he understood even a little of what it felt like to stand on the other side of the hate his family spreads, and given that all my facts have come from the media, it's difficult to really understand what happened or where he came from.

Still, in a very sad way, with all the turmoil over the course of his life, Fred Phelps, Sr.'s lonely death seems almost fitting.

EDIT: And if you're all, TLDR, here's a comic that sums it up pretty nicely.
howeverbrief: (Ink)
Actually, I feel like writing now. Strange.

(I'm in a Calvin and Hobbes kind of mood. Bear with me.)

It's kind of funny to me. Well, lots of things are kind of funny to me. I tend to do a fair amount of things because I find them funny. Sure, I am perfectly capable of being serious (and don't cross me if I'm being deadly serious because you won't like the results), but I spend so much time oscillating between depression and boredom that when I'm in a relatively even-keeled mood, I try to amuse myself as much as possible. I'm not saying I'm always successful in this endeavor (since I still waste a lot of time being bored, looking for better ways to use my time and/or berating my time-management skills), but I like looking around for things that will make me laugh. For all it's vast uselessness, the internet is pretty handy in this regard. If you can't find some obscure trivia to look up, person to stalk, game to play, person to talk to, old commercial clip to watch, or whatever else on your own, the internet will most likely have something on it that will suck up your time and make you forget life for a while. Well, now that I put it that way, I might as well say that if Marx was alive, he might have called the internet the opiate of the masses (and that's not necessarily a good thing if you actually want to get anything accomplished in life), but it's not like communism was really successful and you get my point.

Anyway, every once in a while, it strikes me that while I am definitely grateful for this technology that allows me to stay connected to a larger number of people than I would otherwise (because let's be honest, if we only communicated through letters and phone calls, I wouldn't have met a fair number of you much less gotten to know you in the limited way I have), there are a lot of things and people I don't miss. For all the connections I have made, lost links, cherished companions, new friends, long distance relationships, family I wouldn't see otherwise, and more, there are certain people I have lost contact with purposefully that I do not regret in the slightest. In fact, I reach points like this where I realize how long it's been since I've talked to these people, and my heart lifts in my chest. It actually leaps with relief when I think about how, even if the internet gives me the option to track them down (or I already know where they are), I never have to interact with these people again if I don't want to.

On some level, it's still sad to me that it turns out that way, that I can't have a good, lasting relationship with everyone I let in my life. I don't tend to open myself up easily to others, and connecting in any sort of satisfying way has always been difficult for me. It's not that I don't want to have friends or be close to people. Quite the contrary. I'd love to have some sort of storybook friendship where I could call someone up in the middle of the night and tell them things if I needed to. I'd love to be able to drop everything for someone else because I know they would do the exact same thing for me, no questions asked, any time day or night. Alas, I have learned that this isn't how life works. You can't really expect that from other people, but that's okay, too. Other people have their own lives happening, and on some level, it's pretty silly and selfish to put that much emphasis on friendship. I mean, I wouldn't be able to live up to my own sky high expectations, and there's no reason for me to expect that of others. In the end, you do what you can for people and hope it comes back. Even if it doesn't, why worry about it?

But I'm getting off topic here. I guess what I mean is it's especially hard to lose friends when you're kind of iffy about making them in the first place. Occasionally, I will still have long-dead conversations pop into my head, and I'll want to solve them, to talk with the person even though I'll probably never see them again. These are the moments I don't especially enjoy being conscious and living with a brain that's constantly talking. Sometimes I wish I could switch things off for a while, just long enough so I wouldn't have to rehash arguments and conflicts that should have never seen the light of day again.

Fortunately, there's a flipside to all this, and that's those moments like these-- where I'm sitting quietly by myself underneath my ceiling fan with the windows all open, nothing but the TV playing in the background, and I realize that I'm miles and miles, nay, years and years away from who I used to be and these people I used to know. After all is said and done, in the silence of my home, I occasionally feel very blessed in that I have somewhat figured out that, even if there's still a lot I have to do and many more things I am responsible for, I control the great majority of who still gets to stick around, the people I actually want in my life as opposed to the people I used to surround myself with because it seemed "too mean" to tell them to go away.

Maybe it was cruel to banish them, maybe at first. Maybe there's a better way I could have done that, softer things to say, a more tactful turn of phrase. Maybe I could have made things a lot easier for myself from the get-go, recognized these issues long before I did anything about them or convinced myself it was okay when I knew deep down it never would be. I did a lot of it the wrong way. I failed. I made mistakes, and it could have been different. There are so many possibilities and paths life could have taken, but all I know is despite them all, I've ended up here, firmly entrenched in myself. So far as I can tell, that's not a bad thing. I am who I am; no one has to come with me if they don't want; and I'm fine never seeing some people ever again.

I don't miss the past one bit. Bring on that horizon.
howeverbrief: (Default)
I know you are out there right now

Looking to the east

dark clouds congregate
a wait for storms
inspiring silence

the words dwindle out until
little to none remain but

writ across your face
-April 18, 2012

Why am I still awake? That's always an interesting question. By all means I should have passed out hours ago. I think I'm mostly just in that too exhausted to go to sleep kind of zombie-state that's just perfect for rambling about nothing. Hell, I'm surprised I was able to get out of bed this morning after getting home so late.

Right, I should back up.

Last night, I went to see Yo Yo Ma, Kathryn Stott and the Assad Brothers perform. My coworker offered her extra tickets up a few weeks ago, and I found out she gave them to me because I was one of the only people she asked who actually knew who she was talking about. This makes me kind of sad for whoever she asked, but hey, it meant I got to go hear some incredibly complex music, even if it meant being more tired than usual at work today.

Actually, it was a surreal experience, not just because my family life collided with my work life since I took my mom and we sat with my coworker and her husband (I generally stay fairly impersonal at work), but also due to the kind of otherworldly awe I have about Yo Yo Ma in general. I'm not exactly sure where this came from, especially since I largely forgot about it until Carrie mentioned going to see him.

Well, that's not entirely true.Read more... )

I don't really think I'm going anywhere with this. I just wanted to write it down so I didn't forget. I feel like I'm forgetting so much these days, but I also refuse to give in. Where does it all end? Who's to say? Only I know it's not time to go. Not when there are still things to see. Not when there's still love left to give. Not when there are still words left to write. Not just yet.


Feb. 6th, 2012 09:36 pm
howeverbrief: (Skull)
Good lord. Have you had a dream so many times it seems to alter your memories?


Flippin' "I'm in school but somehow forgot to go to all my classes until now" dreams. I know this must be fairly common, but I've gotten to where I'll wake up wondering how I managed to graduate high school. Even better because lately, they wake me up at 4:00 in the morning. Bleh.

Uh... anyway. I'm really tired. I apologize to anyone who tried to talk to me today. I'm pretty sure I didn't make any sense at all. If I did, it wasn't very interesting. I'm good at being self-deprecating for no reason when I'm exhausted. Sorry.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

EDIT: Before I go to bed, I'll say I'm feeling increasingly like this lately--
I'm never going to eat it.
Get it together! Ah, I still can't do anything right. Yee-ikes. Good night.
howeverbrief: (Default)
A selection of things I've thought about today:

-Sure are a lot of ones and twos in the date today. Hmm...

-Spent my workday proofing a NAC chapter on hazardous chemicals (and I'm still not done with it because it's over 300 pages long, arg). I saw several sections devoted to reporting people who had been exposed to radiation, which lead me to wonder how much of the very dry stuff I was reading was inspired by science fiction and vice versa. Oh no! You'd better watch out! He could turn into the Hulk!
This is similar to when I was reading about highly contagious diseases and found some sections that seemed to talk about preparing for mass viral outbreaks... which just lead me to think about the zombie apocalypse. I may or may not be reading way too much into things (or I'm just really creative at entertaining myself sometimes).

-I collect nutcrackers. This stems back to my childhood when we used to go see The Nutcracker while visiting my Aunt every Christmas. I think I also won a book version of it for a "Dear Santa" letter one year, but I vaguely remember that.
My reasons don't really matter. It usually weirds people out anyway. The conversations I've had with dudes usually go like this:
"Oh, you collect those? They're kind of creepy."
"Meh. I like them."
"Is there some sort of hidden meaning behind those?"
I usually brush this off, but really, I think the only correct answer is, "No. Do you want there to be?"

-My tree is really pathetic. It has all of five ornaments on it. I also hung the silly stockings I got for the cats on it. (Oh, and those jerks knocked their presents off the table while I was at work today. Good thing they were sealed really well.) It only looks good when it's lit. There are some gifts under it, though! I finally finished my wrapping, which is a relief, and I brought home some of the gifts my coworkers gave me. Pretty sweet. I feel weird about that because some of my coworkers have already opened presents, but I still tend to wait until Christmas to open stuff. You know, unless someone sends me something in the mail. Ha.

-Wasn't there something I was supposed to do today? Oh yeah! I'm supposed to figure out when I can take time off. I like how this is something I can forget until the last second if I'm not careful. Wait, not really. I'm just absentminded sometimes. I was bored all day, and I still didn't think about it until about 4:00. Oh well. I'm thinking about blowing off Tuesday already because why the hell not? Might have some other plans coming together too. Got to talk to some people.

-I wasted a lot more time thinking about what to have for dinner, probably because all I packed for lunch was carrot sticks. (I had soup already in my office because session teaches you to always have food on hand for long days. I was just too lazy to make a sandwich this morning. Well, and I was running late because I had some trouble getting out of bed.) I settled on a tuna melt made with this weird spicy mayo mix I found. Okay, plan made, but I still haven't gotten around to actually doing it even though I've been home for an hour. Fail.

-Um... There was other stuff, but it must not be important. I'm tired because I've been going to bed late. Oops. I should try to remedy that. Easy enough to say now. Ask me where I stand on that issue at 10:00. Bleh. Okay, enough. Time to go actually find something to eat instead of procrastinating for no reason.

EDIT: Oh, also this. Haha.


Nov. 16th, 2011 09:55 pm
howeverbrief: (Ink)
There's no time for both.

It gets harder and harder to tell the difference. I used to have many conversations about how certain seemingly opposing interests are actually two sides of the same coin. They repel each other, but they are also intrinsically bound, spinning away from each other back to back in near perpetual motion. Nothing can go on forever, though. You either need more fuel for that passion or it flashes and fizzles out leaving behind the burns of lessons hard learned. I haven't found a surefire way to keep that going. What do you do when you've had nearly everything on your list, but you still wind up with nothing? What makes you stay alive?

Burning the list, I guess. Starting from scratch with little expectations so you're not surprised or disappointed if nothing happens.

I will not say it is getting any easier. I sit here and wonder what I am doing, if I'm going in the right direction, if there is any way to know when there are a multitude of possibilities and so many places to get things wrong. I say a lot of stupid things and feel immediately foolish, like I should take them back; but I can't snatch things out of the air and shove them back in my throat once they're out, just as I can't squeeze other people's necks to prevent them from saying things I don't want to hear but must. I can't change what's happened, but moving forward breeds uncertainty.

My mantra for the past year has been, "It is what it is." It doesn't really solve anything. I try very hard to believe that acceptance of specific inevitabilities is better than fighting the tide, as if that will somehow prevent these pensive mood-swings and make things dull but predictable. Still, I've believed in impossible things my whole life without really having any reason, and lots of strange things happen without provocation and despite my approach or reaction to life anyway. I'm not sure these concepts play well together or if everything is mere coincidence, and jumbled at that. Such is the non-specific opposing forces/sides of the coin debate that continues to be just out of my reach.

I'm still struggling a bit, but I know very well there are certain things you can't go back to no matter how much you miss them. It's never the same. Life waits for no one but definitely knows how to stage a surprise exit even if you're nowhere near ready for it. Best to move onward and upward, thumbing your nose at the things you can't do anything about. Whatever that means will sort itself out in the end.

You can fall in love with something every day.

Every day that something can also break your heart.

Another Day

Aug. 4th, 2011 07:22 pm
howeverbrief: (Black)
I think livejournal is back up now, yes? Man, I don't know. I'm going to try this again and see if it works.

Qwantz talks Aladdin, 17th Century style (the alt text is the best)
A Softer World talks about how we're all cyborgs now

But what am I talking about? If you've been around for any of these comic link posts, you probably read these two comics already, right? RIGHT?!

WAIT! Here's one I don't talk about often. Matriculated thinks you should blame the government!

Anyway, yeah. Found out today we're losing another proofreader in our department, only this time she's a second proofreader who's been there over six years. Gah! Kind of scared about that, considering we're already looking down the barrel of more overtime to get everything done by November. It will all get done somehow, I guess. It has to.

Also, I forgot how hard it is to work all day then come home and try to do freelance work. Ballz. But think of the money and the experience (especially since you just bought a dining room table which is being delivered on Saturday, excited OMG)! Probably should have at least tried to get acclimated to working again before taking this on after my week-long snoozy vacation visiting family and friends (the entry about which I still haven't gotten around to posting yet, oops). I'm super dumb sometimes. Oh well. Jump in face first. Sort it all out later when the bruises start to heal.

And my stomach is doing this weird thing where the muscle or something is twitching? I blame exercising. Well, it's either that or I'm pregnant. Ha, just kidding. That's not even close to being true, Ms. Going-to-be-single-until-the-end-of-days.

Okay, I need to stop procrastinating and posting rambly entries about nothing. Maybe if I get started soon, I won't go to bed at 11:30 or 12 and wake up tired again tomorrow. We'll see if that's even remotely possible. Later, all.
howeverbrief: (Ink)
A few things from other places that have resonated with me lately--

A Softer World's take

Qwantz talks about being angry

Celebrities with messed up teeth (I heart Steve Buscemi, in case I've never mentioned that.)

Lastly, a poem I hope to understand better one day--

Eleanor Lerman

This is what life does. It lets you walk up to
the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a
stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have
your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman
down beside you at the counter who say, Last night,
the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,
is this a message, finally, or just another day?

Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the
pond, where whole generations of biological
processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds
speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,
they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old
enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?
There is movement beneath the water, but it
may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.

And then life suggests that you remember the
years you ran around, the years you developed
a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,
owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are
genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have
become. And then life lets you go home to think
about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.

Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one
who never had any conditions, the one who waited
you out. This is life’s way of letting you know that
you are lucky. (It won’t give you smart or brave,
so you’ll have to settle for lucky.) Because you
were born at a good time. Because you were able
to listen when people spoke to you. Because you
stopped when you should have and started again.

So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your
late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And
then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,
while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,
with smiles on their starry faces as they head
out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.

No Foolin'

Apr. 1st, 2011 07:14 pm
howeverbrief: (Black)
Ah, April. Welcome to the month where I try to post a poem every day. That's why I mentioned it was a little early to be posting poetry a few entries ago, but no matter. Anyway, I can't promise they'll be good or that I'll be able to keep up with it given my schedule, but it's an interesting exercise I've enjoyed doing the last few years, so I'd like to continue on.

I find I've been writing really short poems for a while now. I have a lot of lines that pop into my head while thinking about other things, and once in a while, they'll lend themselves to haiku form (or something close to it). I used to feel like I had to hold onto these lines until I had a longer poem in which to showcase them because I thought short poems were a waste of time, but I found that kind of thinking would either lead me to force myself to write something longer (resulting in a really uneven poem where only various parts worked while the rest was terrible) or I'd never get around to it and forget the idea altogether. I don't know if writing these really short missives solves that conundrum or simply salves my ego since I haven't been able to get myself to put in the same kind of effort I used to, but it's something. So it goes. Still, given all that, I do have another longer poem I wrote a while back that I might post later on after I've edited it a bit. It mostly depends on if I can muster the energy to do anything of worth tonight. We'll see.

Falafel, cook faster, why don't you? I guess it's time for drinking a beer, enjoying the cross-breeze, and trying not to pass out from sheer joy at not having to work tomorrow (or, you know, the tiredness). Sweet.

Oh, and the poems I wrote at work earlier (which are kind of variations of each other, but whatever):

No matter how my heart breaks
the thing I miss the most
is why I stay away

you can't sit back and
wonder how to make love stay--
you throw it away

EDIT: Also, this. Relationships!

Oh, Cupid

Jan. 14th, 2011 10:15 pm
howeverbrief: (Black)
Oh, Cupid
with his arrows bud

shoots at bystanders, and when struck
they seize and tremble
with love hard won

you would too if you'd lost
that much blood

EDIT: Not going to make a new post for it, but this is fantastic.
howeverbrief: (Smile)
Kate Beaton has been doing a series of short comics based on Nancy Drew covers. Per usual, the comment section lead me to a great article on a related topic. After trying to reread his old set as an adult, the writer attempted to track down the original author of the first twenty-one volumes of The Hardy Boys to see why anyone would write such awful books. He didn't find the already deceased author, but the author's family offered a fascinating back-story of a man constantly under pressure to write a series (of which he was ashamed) in order to feed his family.

Here's the article: The Hardy Boys The Final Chapter

I remember voraciously tearing through both Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys series when I was younger, maybe some Boxcar Children as well, but like many people, I haven't thought to try reading them again. Apparently they are quite terrible, but who ever said that children have great taste anyhow? I'm a little scared to go back and see what I thought was so awesome about the books I used to read now, but maybe one of these days I will.


Jul. 9th, 2010 07:30 pm
howeverbrief: (Black)
I found the eyeglass cleaning cloth I thought I lost in a bar while out with Peter tucked away in a pocket of my purse. Ha! Got to love it when my drunk self does something nice and thoughtful instead of messing things up.

I got more work today! It's not enough to pay the bills yet, but I'm grateful for the experience! Also, I'm still working on applications that might not go anywhere! <3

I spent way too much time reading this comic the last few days: Girls with Slingshots

And I'm having a beer! Woo! Happy Friday, all!

EDIT: Oh, and I think I'm funny.

(7:39:18 PM) NerdKatie24: just got like 3 random text messages from 3 totally different people
(7:39:19 PM) NerdKatie24: wtf?
(7:39:20 PM) NerdKatie24: ahhh
(7:39:35 PM) Chicken Hippie: ummm did someone put your number in a bathroom?
(7:39:46 PM) NerdKatie24: 3 different people in 3 different cities?
(7:39:54 PM) Chicken Hippie: a lot of bathrooms?
howeverbrief: (Smile)
The commentators on this dinosaur comic mentioned a weird novel this morning: If on a winter's night, a traveler.

From the Wiki-- Alternating between second-person narrative chapters of this story are the remaining (even) passages, each of which is a first chapter in ten different novels, of widely varying style, genre, and subject-matter. All are broken off, for various reasons explained in the interspersed passages, most of them at some moment of plot climax.

After reading the first chapter (which is really the second chapter of the actual book), the reader finds the book is misprinted and contains only more copies of that same chapter. When he goes to return it he is given a replacement book, but this turns out to be another novel altogether. Just as he becomes engrossed in that, it too is broken off: the pages, which were uncut, turn out to have been largely blank.

This cycle repeats itself, where the reader reads the first chapter of a book, cannot find the other chapters in his copy of the book, so he goes out to find another copy. But the new copy he gets turns out to be another book altogether.

Sounds fascinating! Has anyone read this book?
howeverbrief: (Skull)
Diesel Sweeties Believes in Love

Another day, another billion things I should be doing. Oh well. Yesterday was fairly productive. Today could be more of the same.
howeverbrief: (Default)
Let's see...

Sheep-Pig is adorable.

Vampire Weekend is pretty cool.

Qwantz wants you to know how to ask someone on a date. (I especially liked the alt-text: "no wait, the best dates are the ones where the cops yell 'nevermind! we have no jurisdiction in this area!!' at you") I could have used this information yesterday when my friend was asking how to be a wingman to someone. Haha.

I had a nice meeting at the Minden District Attorney's Office today. No job openings there, but Mr. Gregory is one of the nicest men I've ever met. He also gives good advice. I'll have to try to remember to put it to use.

I also bought some black flats and a teal cardigan at Target with my contact rebate money, and there's still some left over. Sweet.

And, uh, hmm... It's been a pretty productive day. Guess that happens when you get up early in the morning. I have other things going on, but that's all I want to say at the moment. Taa.
howeverbrief: (Default)
This comic made me go kiss my cat.

Um... I have other things to say, but I'm having trouble putting them into words. I'm now two days behind on poetry, but if I don't catch up, I'm not going to hold it against myself. I'm sure you won't mind all that much either. Lots of things are happening and not happening, and I'm trying to keep up with it all without getting too self-absorbed in the process. I always find it difficult to take care of myself without feeling that way, though. Oh well. Got to get to it and hope for the best, I guess.

Maybe, perhaps, I suppose we shall?
howeverbrief: (Black)
And when will your batteries run out?

I might try to post the things that make me laugh at least once a day. We'll see.

Excited for dinner tonight with Aurora! Yayz.


howeverbrief: (Default)

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