Blanket Disclaimer

Added an additional disclaimer to the site today, just in case there's any sort of disagreement about what is written here and how it's protected. In case you're reading this, toots, this means you. Just keep in mind that copying mass amounts of my files, particularly those you've hacked into, is illegal. Hacking's pretty illegal, too, while we're at it. I don't forget playing dirty like that easily. Particularly, mind this paragraph:

Ex-friends, lovers and estranged family members who have been cut out of the writer's life should refrain from reading their journal. If the relationship has ended, there is no reason you should get daily updates on the person's life. If you simply can't help yourself, do it quietly, and never repeat what you read or use it to hurt the writer.

Basically, this comes down to if you don't like what's written here, there's a little 'X' button in the top right-hand corner of the screen. Click it. Makes bad page go bye-bye. I don't go out of my way to make this site super public; if you view the source (I know you know how to do this. You did a pretty hot job before. In fact, you should consider a career in fiction, you write such lovely bullshit), in fact, there's a snippet that keeps this site out of search engines. Of course, then again, hey, who needs a search engine when you can log onto someone else's account without their permission, access their buddy list, download AIM for the sole purpose of going through all the screen names to find evil me, and read my profile so you can snoop through my personal files. Sounds like kind of a psycho-stalker thing, huh?

Then again, this is America. It's a lot easier to try and find someone to scapegoat than to admit you nailed yourself into your own coffin with your own behaviour, isn't it? Of course it's someone else's fault. I beat his head in with a crowbar because he cut me off, officer. I never would have done something like that if he hadn't cut me off. But because of that, asshole deserved it. He practically made me do it.

Someone I knew compared relationships to growing orchids. When you decide to grow orchids, you make a big committment: they're fragile, they require tons of work, they can be incredibly hard to care for, but if you put in the work and time required, they're incredibly rewarding. Plus, as you get more used to the care required, it gets easier, you become more accustomed to how things have to be to make everything grow right. Of course, you can't just care for it for a little while, then plop it in a corner somewhere and expect it to keep growing because you cared for it for a bit, but now you've got other things to do.

Moral: Neglected things die. Doesn't matter whether it's plants, living creatures, or relationships. And the only person to blame is the one who did most of the neglecting.

But hey, why listen to good advice? Blame everyone else in the world, hold yourself to be without fault.

Confused as hell by this? email me and I'll explain the whole sordid mess. Either that, or if you do get it and can be adult enough to talk, same deal goes.

Redecorating

The blanket over the window did not work as well as I had originally hoped. I can see it billowing in the breeze, in fact, right now, as I'm typing. It reached a balmy 7 degrees today. I was practically ready to grab my bathing suit and go for a swim with the goosicles in Dorchester Bay, had it not been nearly completely iced over. I can hear the wind whipping around outside... sounds like cars driving by. It's so cold in here right now, in fact, that I'm not only wearing my sweatpants and one of Steven's work shirts that I need to throw in the hamper (in hopes that I somehow might have one full load to do when I go to the laundromat later this week), but also socks, my Hello Kitty slippers, and my ratty green terry robe. Sigh, I should buy a new one while there's still a sale at Vicky's, but I don't really have the cash.

I'm super tired, for some reason. We slept in this morning, till 10:30, since there was no school. Wimps. -10 is nothing compared to what I had to go to school in while I was in Proctor. I remember having school when it was -44 and the only reason I didn't go was because the car fluids had literally frozen/turned to slush. Tangent over. We went to ye olde UMass both to harass administration (no dice, my app is still with The Committee) and lunch with Donna (more like brunch. Made Steven sick, too greasy for me). The we came back here, watched Shanghai Knights, which is plot-lite, but cute, with lots of neat-o stunts and jiggly, jiggly breasts. Then we ...relaxed... somemore.

I started feeling it while we were introducing the 11th. Commandment (Thou shalt not chew with thy mouth open) at dinner. After the eleven hundreth time of saying this, followed by much pouting (wonder where he gets that from...), attempted cuteness to deflect attention from aforementioned open mouth chewing, followed by cries of needing Mommy and silencing of them with responses of Mommy would not let you chew with your mouth open, either, I started feeling very, very tired. Ultimately, we distracted him by teaching him such good, useful words as "Nasghoul", "Rohan", and "Aragorn".

Tangent: Does anyone find the nasghoul a hell of a lot less frightening with the knowledge that their unholy screams are really just the heehawing of donkeys with a little echo on it?

Tomorrow, I'm going on the hunt to find a funton cover and some material for drapery. It's high time I start making this place look a little more like my home, rather than a prefurnished place. I'm planning on rearranging the furniture next week-end, when I'm able to get things a little cleaner. We're still super cluttered from Christmas. In fact, most of Steven's and my presents are still sitting where they were on Christmas day. Go me. At least the tree is down and the Boy Scouts have been paid to haul its carcass off.

I want to rewire my new art before I go to bed. Must remember.

What else..? I have to spend Sunday in purgatory again. I need to look for a new job, but I haven't had much energy lately. Even my sex drive has taken a hit: I've actually not wanted it every day! I think I have a little bit of a bug, though, coupling the deadly exhaustion with a bit of an upset stomach and sore throat. I'm sure I'll recover completely, though.

I need more sudafed and sleep. Tomorrow should be action packed and exciting.