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I met something like ten new people today. I'm exhausted! But I got to eat some delicious Indian food, and watch a pretty sweet Bollywood movie, so I think exhaustion was worth it.



Went up to visit Jeff today, and scored some sweet, sweet pics, hehe! Immortalized forever:

I'm honestly torn about which one is cooler.

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When I was twenty, I met my mom and dad for the first time. My mom was smart, loved to read and to laugh and to cook; my dad was worldwise, quick with a joke, and an incorrigible gentle flirt. They always wanted to hear about my day, my week, my month, congratulated me on my successes, and counseled me through my challenges. They loved me unconditionally, and I loved them back fiercely.

When I was twenty five, I lost my parents... because they were never mine to begin with.

When I was twenty six, my dad died.

You weren't my biological dad, or the dad that paid and pays for anything I need or want. You were the dad of my heart, and two years after seeing you last, a year and a half after learning you were diagnosed with cancer, and four months after learning you passed away last summer, I miss you so very, very much.



Huh. I totally wrote a wee entry last night (below), but was apparently so tired and wrung out that I didn't actually manage to post it. Whoops!

And then, in a stellar move, I totally didn't notice time passing until it was after 4 am. SHIT.



Other than it being sunny, today just didn't make me very happy at all. I'm tired and wrung out and glad that I'm planning on taking a night just for me tomorrow.



My reaction to the Battlestar Galactica season (and nigh on fucking year) finale can be rendered thusly: Yes! Yes! Yes! NOOOOOOOOO!!!

Jeff managed to get up the stairs to home today. A ridiculous feat, given A) that he's done not a whole lot more than lie in bed the last two weeks and B) he's on the third floor of a condo building with very high ceilings. The inconvenience of all this to his life is fucking crazy town. That's what motorcycles do, kids (waggling finger). They make you have to have several minute long strategy sessions with your two best friends about how to undertake minor necessities of life.

I did figure out how to use his magnetic reacher thingie to undo the clasps on his crazy splint boot, so we got him covered on getting up by himself, but settling back down is another matter; although I proved that it's possible to manipulate the clasps back on with the reacher, getting his foot into the right position is pretty much impossible without help. So invalid he stays for a while!



Yay, the site is back up! Power outage in Eastern Washington, perhaps? Who knows.

I am so very glad that I ordered some Sports Racer gear in the last week of The Show. The super awesome shirt I'm sporting today is, apparently, no longer available, nor is one of the others that I got. Limited edition cuteness for the win!

In other news, Jeffie should be getting out of the hospital tomorrow, barring any craziness! About time. Who ever heard of someone being in the hospital for two weeks for a broken leg? It's completely preposterous. Not to mention inconsiderate of friends who loyally refuse to watch Battlestar Galactica without you. Tomorrow will be a BSG extravaganza after we get him home... it will be glorious.



Dear powers that be: I'd like to have sex with Ryan Reynolds. Can we make that happen? Thanks, bye!



Hrm. Interesting that I didn't catch myself typing "have" instead of "half" yesterday. I subvocalize as I type a lot of the time, so it's not exactly rare that I type the word that I think I "hear" rather than the word that I actually meant to type. But normally I realize mid-word that I've gone astray, or at least notice when I read the sentence over again. I'm definitely operating a few concentration points off my norm.



I want a TV in my bedroom again, damnit. On a night like tonight, I could drop off easy as you please to the sweet song of the boob tube. Not just I could, but I want to. I want nothing more right now than to be watching a TV show with one eye and less than have my concentration, drifting away more on shifting light patterns than any actual content.

Has it really been days since I last posted? I've been distracted with the whole Jeff getting his leg rebuilt from the inside out thing.

I think I will take my drugs and fall asleep on my couch. I want my fucking TV lullaby, GODDAMNIT.

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Cadbury Mini Eggs are the fucking devil. So sayeth my tummy.



It's been quite a little while since I last stayed home and got pleasantly drunk by myself (as opposed to staying home and getting mopily drunk by myself). It was startlingly entertaining to hang out, cook, drink, have an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, drink some more... you get the idea. Me and Absolut Citron, we have a bond. Apparently the sort of bond that inspires me to hold lightswitch raves.

Spent a few hours at the hospital today visiting with the Jeffster. He's doing much better since I last saw him, on Thursday night. They'd pushed him to oxycodone after they took away his morphine button, and it had not been treating him well. While I was there on Thursday, he'd asked about getting something different, and apparently they were able to put him on some other type of morphine starting yesterday. It was a good visit; we talked and laughed and played a game of Rummy with a deck of cards I brought in. I'm so relieved to see him doing so much better off the oxy; he seriously looked and sounded like death fucking warmed over on Thursday night and it'd freaked me out. Today he was in good humor, sharp as a tack, and fully capable of hoarding aces in Rummy like nobody's business. Good times.



Grr. I want to cut off my toe. And to have my slippers materialize on my feet from my bedroom. And to have a particular bad TV movie from 1992 on DVD in my library. And to eat some sweet cream ice cream with raspberries. And to not crave getting some complimentary attention from a guy who isn't related to me or solidly in the friend box.



I've said it before, but I will say it again: I've never considered myself a jealous person. Several events over the years have tested that, some events quite seriously, and I've always come out the other side justified in my opinion. How funny, then, to suddenly find that I am what I can only assume is jealous. Wildly, obsessively jealous. It's a completely foreign experience, utterly irrational and quite disorienting. How could have I guessed that my previous lack of jealousy was so predicated on my confidence that the other person was no serious threat? In retrospect, I suppose it is obvious, but until now, I had no reason to think that there were conditions under which I would snap into jealousy. I just hadn't counted on this freak edge case, I guess.

I don't enjoy this. But how does one go about turning off this particular emotional faucet? It's been years since I encountered a truly new emotional situation; I'm lost.

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L5Rfan @ 2007-03-16 03:45:30pm

"predicated on my confidence". Answer: Get confident. I know this sounds trite but it's true. Avoid competition if you may end up feeling outclassed. Good luck.

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Happy pi day! Mama brought pie to the hospital today when she visited Jeff, not even knowing how appropriate it was. She thought it was funny when I hopped up and down in delight and explained. Contrast this to when I joked about pi day in triage this afternoon, and everyone stared at me until I realized I had to explain, and then they still stared at me, and then I got called a nerd (well, okay, the phrase used was not technically directed at me, as I wasn't the subject of the sentence, but it was "the level of nerd in this room just rose so high"). Sometimes, being in my group, it's hard to remember I work at Microsoft. Why oh why can't I work with some proper geeks? Sheesh.

Spent four hours at the hospital this afternoon, keeping Jeffie company. No more morphine button for him (aww!), and they actually had him get out of bed today, learning how to use crazy AT-AT walker gear. That apparently worked about as well as you'd expect given that his leg is held together with metal pins at the moment, heh. The surgery where they'll actually put some sort of spike in his leg will either happen Friday or early next week, surgeon schedule permitting. And then he'll be at -2.25 Essence for the bone lacing.

Man. My nerdity really is in high gear today. I did have to look up the exact essence cost for titanium bone lacing, but who bothers to memorize decimals?



(yawn) A night spent at Harborview did not a lot of sleep enable. I'm sleepy as all hell and gonna get on with that whole rest thing that we've been reminding Jeff is good for him.



Jeff was in a motorcycle accident last night. Seth called me this morning; I spent my day down at Harborview and will be spending the night there to keep Jeff company until I pass the baton to his mother in the morning. His left leg is pretty much shattered... but he's doing pretty good, joking about how he can start becoming a cyborg now.

And people wonder why I'm against motorcycles! I know they're cool and all that, but damn. Jeff was wearing body armor and wasn't even going very fast, and SNAP goes his leg anyway. Word is that the whole thing pretty much happened in the very worst possible way.




To think, that such a short snippet of text might have such an impact. Three little words: a preposition, an article, a noun; not even a complete sentence.

Completely unable to sleep last night, I gave up after a couple hours and came out to the couch to watch some TV. After another few hours, Modern Marvels: Axes, Swords, and Knives finally coasted me out to sleep, but who would have thought that I'd sleep for a good eight hours on my tiny couch? My neck hurts.

Saw 300 tonight with Brandon. Sadly, it was nowhere near as awesome as Sin City, but it was still visually lush and full of people stabbing each other gloriously. Can't go all wrong. And I was surprised to learn, after getting home and looking some stuff up, that it was remarkably historically accurate. Go figure.

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Wow. I managed to hear William Shatner's rendition of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds tonight for the first time. I'm blown away. I've known since I was quite young that the song was about tripping on LSD, and have sung along to it idly on many an occasion, but holy hells, I've never actually heard the full psychadelic-ness until now.


In other news, my heart just dropped out of my body, phased right through the couch, and is currently traveling at terminal velocity towards a pit full of sharpened stakes and broken glass. Well.



(snorting at self) After hanging out watching TLC's What Not To Wear for a couple hours, I'm overtaken by a wacky desire to shop. I did a lot of clothes shopping a year and a half ago, out of a frantic need to be doing something other than being alone with my own thoughts, but I've done almost none since. Really, though, what I need to do is to go through my clothes and get rid of the things that I just don't wear, before I do a single damn bit of buying. And to remember that it's more my winter wardrobe that I'm not so happy with (it seems like 95% of my sweaters are black or grey), but spring is coming along with the attendant ability to wear the clothes that I already own that involve colors.

What, did I forget that I'm still a girl despite my giant metaphorical wang?



A day off in the sun (almost 70 degrees, it was yesterday!), a walk around Greenlake on a clear night, and a renewed sense of purpose at work seem to have been what was needed to burn off the weekend full of mope. ... I'm completely driven to pair that sentence with "I hope." Silly rhyming instincts! Other than that, really nothing to see here. Move along, move along.

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At least it's sunny out.

The theme of today seems to be me being in places that I'm not supposed to be, both literally and metaphorically. Perhaps understandably, this situation is not improving my mood any.

But at least it's sunny out.

Considering that I can go years without the lyrics to a song striking me particularly deeply (it's usually the actual music that gets me), it's surprising that twice in a week lyrics have hit me so hard. At least today it's a little less despairing and a little more darkly motivating. Of course, resonating and believing, identifying and practicing, are all very different things... but we have to start somewhere.

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Went to see Pan's Labyrinth with Jeff tonight, and then watched Stranger Than Fiction with him and Seth up in Bothell. I enjoyed both movies, but I'm pretty sure that my mood wasn't helped any by hanging out in the dark passively consuming visual media all day. I'm not sure what would have been better, however, given that extended periods of reading tend to depress me just as much. What on earth shall I do with the long weekend I have given myself? Three weeks ago I thought I definitely needed some sort of vacation, but now I'm looking at these next two days I've set aside with complete bemusement.

What I should really do is actually get off my mental ass and plan out a real damn vacation. There's a couple problems with that though, one being financing and one being, well, a painful mental block let's call it. I don't really want to talk about it, at least not specifically. I suppose there's several general ways to refer to it. I need to figure out a vacation I can take cheaply and to a place I don't mind going by myself (see, that was general!). Perhaps I'll go out to visit the grandparents again sometime in late spring. It's been a while since I was out at the ranch at that time of year.



Because there's nothing quite like walking home and crying along to a song. Yay? Funny that a song with so few lyrics would get to me so badly tonight.



While running some errands today, I suddenly became totally disoriented. I looked around wildly, trying to figure out where the hell I was, and only after several seconds of panic at the red light did I realize that the reason I didn't recognize the intersection was because the building complex that once anchored the northwest corner was missing, replaced by a vast wasteland of rubble. I nearly burst into tears.

That building was more than a cornerstone of that intersection; it was the cornerstone of my adolescent life. Although Psycho 5 long ago closed up shop in that location, years afterwards I could still go by the storefront and feel the experiences of my high school years in that place bubble up. To see it felled, being combed over by giant backhoes, was to see a tangible reminder of my past laid desolate.

No wonder I'm down this evening.



Heh. How amusing that the magic number was 42! Ah, nerdity. Of course, the other number was 51.6, not nearly as funny.

Sometimes I hate being several steps above street level. Like when I have to take trash out on cold nights. Blah.

Fascinating. I seem to be getting my first round of comment spam since implementing my commenting system over a year and a half ago. Particularly interesting to me is that it's total fucking gibberish (consists mostly of words like "zdwbbtp;" occasionally [url]http://<gibberish>[/url] is being tried), and that it seems to only be happening to two /tht/ entries in particular. One of those entries consists solely of me saying "(YAWN)". (head scratch) The internet and the script kiddies that inhabit it are so weird sometimes.

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