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Extremes, as always
11 June 2007 16:19While at Neo on Wednesday, raging and fuming over the idiocy of a friend back in Pittsburgh who I can't make decisions for, a guy from the crew I used to hang out with a few years ago tapped me on the shoulder and told me that everybody had finally seen The Misanthrope for what he really was. Vindication at last, my precious, if only I had not decided those grapes were sour long ago.
While I was at Duck Con this weekend, the Post Office decided to leave this month's subscription of comics (I still have them sent from Phantom of the Attic, in Pittsburgh) in the lobby, instead of just leaving a packing slip. Someone stole all my comic books, and my copy of Star Wars Sage Edition. They were kind enough to leave the mailing box in front of my door.
I get so incredibly frustrated with Lacuna Diving Bunny when I ask her a question and she dismisses it with a shrug. She never knows what she wants to eat, she never has an opinion on my photography, and it drives me insane. Other times, she'll ramble for hours about exactly which species of impatiens she wants to grow, or rant about the misconceptions surrounding polygamy, with such clarity and precision that I am simply astounded. I catch my breath, and ask Is that why you love me? or Do you think that flower would look good next to my jasmine tree? and she'll shrug and mumble "I'unno."
It's my birthday tomorrow. Traditionally, I celebrate by spending time with someone whom I want to get to know better, usually in a platonic sense (frequently, I've used my birthday like this to affirm my interest in a sincere friendship with a former lover). This year, I'm sad to report that I know of no one who fits that category who is also free. On the other hand, there are a few photo projects that I am itching to get back to, so it might be appropriate to say that this year, my birthday someone is, well, myself.
I still can't decide if that's sad or not.
While I was at Duck Con this weekend, the Post Office decided to leave this month's subscription of comics (I still have them sent from Phantom of the Attic, in Pittsburgh) in the lobby, instead of just leaving a packing slip. Someone stole all my comic books, and my copy of Star Wars Sage Edition. They were kind enough to leave the mailing box in front of my door.
I get so incredibly frustrated with Lacuna Diving Bunny when I ask her a question and she dismisses it with a shrug. She never knows what she wants to eat, she never has an opinion on my photography, and it drives me insane. Other times, she'll ramble for hours about exactly which species of impatiens she wants to grow, or rant about the misconceptions surrounding polygamy, with such clarity and precision that I am simply astounded. I catch my breath, and ask Is that why you love me? or Do you think that flower would look good next to my jasmine tree? and she'll shrug and mumble "I'unno."
It's my birthday tomorrow. Traditionally, I celebrate by spending time with someone whom I want to get to know better, usually in a platonic sense (frequently, I've used my birthday like this to affirm my interest in a sincere friendship with a former lover). This year, I'm sad to report that I know of no one who fits that category who is also free. On the other hand, there are a few photo projects that I am itching to get back to, so it might be appropriate to say that this year, my birthday someone is, well, myself.
I still can't decide if that's sad or not.