(no subject)

trying to consume bagels, without stuff on them, because my stomach's still a rather jittery knot. mom okay'd packing our clothes in a garbage bag, since the best suitcase is gone and the other, large one is in the attic. i'm still doing laundry, of course. it's probably the fourth--fifth?--load. have a lot of errands to do at places that probably are not open yet. the dog isn't letting me out of his sight.

and of course, it was already today sixteen hours ago in finland. but nonetheless, happy birthday to wax_jism, who is probably not the best person in the world (and if i told her she was, she wouldn't believe me), but is certainly my favorite.

ooh

i'm existing in a constant state of suppressed anxiety and low-level dismay. i have this urge to say 'wtf?' except without any energy. more like, 'lalala. oh, wtf. lala.'

ellen datlow and terri windling both have subscriptions to my dad's poetry zine but he has never mentioned this. conversely, whenever he discovers a new location of fossilized coral, he tells everyone about it.

shows his priorities, says wax. well, yeah.

now i think of it, i've seen--eight or nine of them.

having been provided by guinevere33 with dinner, i'm off the hook for the evening. of course, i do have to be ready to leave at six am, but i've packed, and i finished my errands, for the most part.

i can't remember whether i had completely finished off the ink-stained fingers archive (in terms of harry/snape) or not, but i might try a peek at it before i go to bed. bad snape/harry will quickly make me wish to be asleep.

ta, te, ti, to, tu

i'm hungry. ow. and i found another one of those stories that teeters on the bad edge of mediocre, content-wise, but which you can't take your eyes off of. damn. ahh, we reach the entertaining part! ...and then a bit later, the bad-enough-to-quit part. does anyone know how to set my mom's clock radio? i didn't think so.

dear author:

the arc d'triumphe? ouch.

love, cim