On the other hand, lacking a sexual partner and most of your local social network you knew through her affords you the time to work on work shit for longer; men tend to like this if it's white collar. As a bonus, you can also focus on hobbies you normally--at best--spent the better part of an hour on while sacrificing sleep.

I guess you only need one hand to jerk whatever chicken you possess. This switch is not an inhuman compromise.

In other news: I get to move most of my crap out of her apartment later today.

That is going to be awkward.

In other other news, the Paper That Will Not Die (TM) has been re^15-vetted. It is slated for execution in roughly a week. It took 2 1/2 years. Some zombies go down quicker than others. That will teach me to use an olive fork when a thermonuclear middle finger was more appropriate.

Additional things:

*The annoying but vaguely sweet undergrad who constantly fucked up my data across several projects has cervical and ovarian cancer.

I am a dick. We have established this.

Mostly I hope that her surgery in her native land is successful. Ever so partly I'm glad I probably never have to interact with her in person again. I hate cloying people; it disgusts me that I may have ever been that way.

*'Sexting' is the stupidest goddamn portmanteau we have ever developed.

*I think, of all people, I saw Hill in the VA cafeteria this afternoon. The lady had a sandwich. There are a few Inferno and non-people that look like her. We haven't talked in over 3 years. I wonder if her cat still doesn't like her for whatever reason.

*I am disappointed in you, Inferno. I go away for several months, come back on a Saturday to get wasted and dance to whatever passes for Goth-Industrial in your den of mild inequity and LiveJournal fiends, and get jungle and some drum n' bass instead. For the first 15 minutes I was all 'huh'. Mike, the perpetual devotee, was also hell of such as 'hm'. The night wore on. It wore on us. They played one song by Fever Ray. That was it. Inwardly, I demanded to know if Plan B had bought Apollo out, and where the half-naked go-go Joe boys with hot tits were, or those lanky girls with the bras of awkward fabrics and contours.

None of that.

I'll go to Leather and Lace just one last time, Inferno, and your ass better serve, because this change in market share aggregate is no leveraging my synergy.

*I'm less depressed today than I was yesterday. Given that yesterday consisted of laying drunk in bed for 3 1/2 hours listening to music half as old as I am while text messaging people and looking at my computer run check-disk while thinking about my soon-to-be and/or already-is ex, that is not a stretch.

The people come and go,

Speaking of the Regis Philbin show.

previous - next