From Bionic, who has lovely drawings up right now that her wife did. Maybe once the gf and I are wed, she’ll do such things for me? Hmmm… Maybe not.
Anyway, a list – my fave! The rule is one word only. Yikes.
Your Mother: compassionate
Your Father: kind
Fav Food: popcorn
Dream Last Night: funny
Fav Drink: whiskey
What room are you in?: living
Where were you last night?: home
Something that you aren’t: pregnant
Wish List Item: fence
Where you grew up: home
What you are wearing: second-hand
Your Pet: perfect
Something you’re not wearing: underpants*
Fav Store: IY
Fav Color: orange
Last time you laughed: morning
Your Best Friend: loves
Best Place you go over and over: bed
Person who you email regularly: LB
Fav Place to Eat: home
*haha! I am the same as Bionic!
I’m finding tagging hard to follow up, but Hard Girl is it. Get on, girl.
By way of cho-girl, who never blogs anymore (Shit. Who am I to talk?) but somehow still has her finger on the pulse of the internets.
And, yes. I know you’ve all seen it already. But look! Two posts for one on a Thursday!
Here we are. At WordPress. Fascinating. Is it true what they say about none of my pictures got moved? Crap.
Don’t you want to hear from me fourty-eleven times today?
In my pre-bedtime blog cruising, I did I quick drive by of Dean’s Live Journal, because I heart him on account of The Most Romantic Moment of My Life that took place in the falling snow under a small tree and a street light on Altamont st back during the freak spring storm of ’93, when we were tiny children. Anyway, he hardly ever posts anymore of on old LJ, but I check every now and then. He links to this article, which warrents another glass of whiskey and a more thorough rereading by me (I was so excited I had to blog it before I gave it a real go). Equate gin and television and throw around terms like “cognitive surplus” and I am putty in your hands.
ETA: And shit like this? Yeah, boy. That’s what I’m talking about.
And I’m willing to raise that to a general principle. It’s better to do something than to do nothing. Even lolcats, even cute pictures of kittens made even cuter with the addition of cute captions, hold out an invitation to participation. When you see a lolcat, one of the things it says to the viewer is, “If you have some sans-serif fonts on your computer, you can play this game, too.” And that’s message–I can do that, too–is a big change.
And also this:
media is actually a triathlon, it ‘s three different events. People like to consume, but they also like to produce, and they like to share.
Because yes, yes we do. Lord. Just go read it already.
(Disclaimer – I love lolcats. I do)
My hard drive crashed on Saturday night, at the tail end of a lovely chicken dinner with a friend from here and the lovely lesbians from DC, R and J, with whom I went to Boston for T-day (remember?).
I have been without Teh Internets for days. Days, I tell you. And I missed y’all. Lord. All you IVP kids – I was lost without you. No machine equals no contact, except maybe by the pony express to the couple few of you to whom I sent xmas cards. Woe, as the title implies. But here I am now, by the grace of god – I mean, the grace of cho-girl. And I’ll get a loaner machine tomorrow, because I am among the luckiest of the lucky.
Wednesday is the Last Of Days for old Polly Teh Polyp. The surgery is scheduled for 9 am and I expect that I’ll be home and on the couch sometime before noon. My mama says she’ll stop by with enchiladas, so come by if you want some. You’ll have to wait on yourself, though – I plan to milk this general-anesthesia hang over for as long as possible.
Jude, I fear I won’t be able to send Polly up your way, as the nice resident told me I couldn’t have her. She did promise pictures, though. Who wants to see pictures of my girl-parts?!
moar humorous pics
I wish I could figure out how to make this actually show up here, but since I can’t you’ll have to click on it.
Y’all know I love a good online quiz. Or, at least, you do now.
There’s this one, from Cali (I’ll do anything she does):
|1.||Theoretical Ideal Candidate (100%)|
|2.||Dennis Kucinich (91%) Information link|
|3.||Alan Augustson (campaign suspended) (87%) Information link|
|4.||Barack Obama (80%) Information link|
|5.||Joseph Biden (73%) Information link|
|6.||Christopher Dodd (70%) Information link|
|7.||Hillary Clinton (70%) Information link|
|8.||Mike Gravel (68%) Information link|
|9.||Wesley Clark (not running, endorsed Clinton) (67%) Information link|
|10.||John Edwards (66%) Information link|
|11.||Al Gore (not announced) (63%) Information link|
|12.||Michael Bloomberg (says he will not run) (62%) Information link|
|13.||Bill Richardson (54%) Information link|
|14.||Elaine Brown (51%) Information link|
|15.||Kent McManigal (campaign suspended) (48%) Information link|
|16.||Ron Paul (43%) Information link|
|17.||Rudolph Giuliani (29%) Information link|
|18.||Mike Huckabee (28%) Information link|
|19.||Alan Keyes (22%) Information link|
|20.||Tommy Thompson (withdrawn, endorsed Giuliani) (22%) Information link|
|21.||Mitt Romney (19%) Information link|
|22.||John McCain (17%) Information link|
|23.||Sam Brownback (withdrawn) (14%) Information link|
|24.||Newt Gingrich (says he will not run) (14%) Information link|
|25.||Chuck Hagel (not running) (12%) Information link|
|26.||Tom Tancredo (9%) Information link|
|27.||Fred Thompson (8%) Information link|
|28.||Duncan Hunter (7%) Information link|
|29.||Jim Gilmore (withdrawn) (5%) Information link|
|30.||Stephen Colbert (campaign ended) (3%) Information link|
Speaking of candidates, I went to vote today (yay! voting!) at the school across from my house. It’s a pretty amazing place to vote; the majority of the election officers are older black women – say, 50 or 60 plus – and you can see the pride and sense of duty they have over it all. Voting is not something to take for granted. Democracy (such as it is here) is *not* a spectator sport, y’all. These women, down at the polling place, silently tell me to keep that in mind.
Moving on to religion, there’s this one, that I found (and took, of course):
Cracks about me being 55% New Age maybe made in the comments.
In other news, good old FF confirmed ovulation for Saturday, with their usual wussy-commitment-phobe dotted lines. I am leaning toward pinning ovulation sometime late Saturday night/early Sunday morning. Which lines up nicely with my insems (thank you, New “Can’t Beat Them With Sticks” Donors.). So now we wait. That’s CD 17, 3 DPO, for those of you playing along at home.
My ass is kicked by this cold. Kicked, I tell you.
Didn’t everybody else do this days ago?
Sophie announced to me and her mother, quite randomly, that she wanted “a MySp@ce.” Read all the pre-teen attitude and psuedo-angst into those quotes you want. Poor kid, she got a no from both of us, immediately and with no qualifications. She wheedled and cajoled to the best of her ability (which works well with some of the adults in her life, but not with me, nor with her mother – we are a strong and united front), and gained no ground from either of us, but did get a crash course on how weird and dicey the internet can be. Plus, more noes (is that right for the plural of no?). The agony. Oh, wait….
****** there is some man walking through my neighborhood, singing to himself, something about, “give peace a chance, and see what happens, bum, bum, bum…..” not the John Lennon version, but something entirely of his own making – fabulous*****
Anyway. I really think it is clear she’s not old enough to navigate an adult social/hook-up network by herself because she’s still naive enough to think that she should ask her mother and me. I guess this is good, the keeping open of the lines of communication, but really, I think if she were savvy enough to pull off registering on her own, she’d be savvy enough to tell the difference between people who want to be her friend and people who want to be her “friend,” or at least savvy enough not to tell these “friends” too much about herself.
But back to the plot, or lack thereof. So I told her I’d see if I could find any teen social networks for her and we let it all go at that. And I did, but she didn’t mention it again. Until today, when she asked me what year she would have been born in if she was 13 now. As background, when we set up her now-defunct h0tmail account, we faked her birth date, so she’d be old enough to join. So I opened my mouth to prompt her to do the math herself, and then thought to ask what she wanted to fake her birthday for. Nothing, she said. Uh-huh. So I told her she was on her own to figure it out and went back to the comics page (I am a *very* attentive caregiver). I reminded her a little later that I had, as promised, found some teen versions of MySp@ce, and showed her the link to one that I cannot remember the name of the save my life. Whatever it was, she jumped on it. Jumped in an I-don’t-really-care-about-this-tweener way. (Lord) Which means that she set herself up an account and fussed around with it for the better part of an hour. She even showed me her avatar.
Score! Puesdo-angsty pre-teen – 1! Me – 1! We’re all winners chez Starrhill!