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I don't use this much as a journal anymore, but I remembered this icon and it made me think of when I started my journal here over 10 years ago when I was so young and full of drama and living with Meshel and Ophelia was still practically a pup and used to jump up on us and chew everything. Yesterday we had to say goodbye to Ophelia and I feel ( Read more... ) -
My co-workers are not the enemy.
Today I rode the bus downtown on my way to support state workers. In fact, that’s what I’ve been doing almost every Monday morning for the past 3 years working as a contractor doing tech support for a Wisconsin state agency. This morning, however, I wasn’t getting paid for it and I was carrying a protest sign. I still haven’t been able to figure ( Read more... ) -
Only coincidentally about love.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)This is not counting my family of origin. These are my chosen family; the people whom I love for their marvelous selves ( Read more... ) -
Wine instead of the usual whining.
The past two weekends have included revelatory wine experiences, and while I generally try to keep from rambling on in my journal about wine because I lack the art of colourful phrasing to make it of interest to anyone but myself, these must be noted ( Read more... ) -
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I seem to only read books about wine and Italy lately. Oh, and Sherlock Holmes. I will probably be in need of a nice hard dose of Sci Fi sometime soon, but for now this passage from Under the Tuscan Sun really resonated with me. I was starting to feel this a bit on the walk home from work today, which is good because I am deeply in need of ( Read more... ) -
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Today, I took the slightly less convenient bus home and instead of getting off at my usual stop and confining myself to sidewalks, I got off a stop early and strode across the damp little patch of urban prairie where a grocery store used to be. I reached the railroad tracks and followed them home. Something about the way the clouds were sailing ( Read more... ) -
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I think I've mislaid my public persona somewhere along the way. More and more I'm just myself, or sometimes not myself. Or as Over the Rhine put it, "more and more I'm secretly just me." It's hard to know how to present oneself without that framework, though, and I think I've been mostly failing at interacting with people except in one-on-one ( Read more... ) -
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Why is it that when I just go to sleep with wet hair it sticks up annoyingly in the morning, but when I go to bed and have sex with wet hair and then fall into a blissful post-orgasmic nap it looks great when I get up? Not that I'm complaining today.
