Green Leather

So it arrived yesterday- my custom made set of a leather collar, ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs.

The leather is amazing. So soft. The constructions are so sturdy. Durable. Unyielding. I am so very pleased.

My favorite photographer and his girl have a set of white leather. I don't really know how they keep it- white leather gets dirty. Stains. Of course, I've only seen it in photos, not in person. Perhaps it is not as pristine as it looks. My green leather is murky and dark. It will weather with time, but it won't become obviously discolored.

I love it. Will try to get a picture up here.

In other news. Off to Helsinki tomorrow. Phobia is starting to kick in. Which sucks.

Went out with Mr. Ball last night. Had some naughty moments on a street corner. Thing is, I prefer Mr. Aloof more. But Mr. Aloof has gone awol so perhaps I should not linger on him. But do I want something with Mr. Ball? If I do,it's probably more because I'm bored and can, as opposed to feeling anything about it specifically. And I worry that makes me some sort of horrible awful person.

Pink Snow

I left my house this morning to go to work. It was rainy and grey. How nice it was then, as I came down the stairs to get to the street to be confronted with a littering of pink snow. It was as if the tree outside my building sneezed and all the petals fell off, like in some cheesy cartoon. Still, a nice way to start the day- wading through the pink snow.

My Avatar

This is my usual avatar. I use it on messenger. I use it on yahoo. I don't like photos of myself. Though people I know have said, they can see why I would pick this image, as there is something about it that reminds them of me. I say, 'Well, you didn't think I would just pick any random old picture do you??'


Kopaylopa Avatar

Tailbone

When I was a teenager in high school I was running on the ice. I feel down a couple of times, hard. I noticed that evening that I had intense pain when sitting. The pain lasted a few weeks. I went to the doctor and he suggested that I probably fractured my tailbone. He didn't think it was broken from what I described but it was probably a little bit off and causing all the pain.

Throughout the years from time to time I get terrible pain when sitting. I feel it pressing. It's internal the pain, it's hard to describe. Like blood being stopped and then rushing back. Like a giant nipple clamp for the end of your spine. But not nearly as enjoyable.

My ass is hurting me now. It hurt all day at work, and it's giving me twangs sitting in this chair. I think I need to go lay down on my side for a while. What good is a coccyx anyway? I mean... if you're going to have that, I would prefer to have a tail, preferably prehensile.

Internet Pitfalls - Worry

Today I should have been spending the entire day with Mr. Aloof. But I have not heard from him since Tuesday. On Tuesday he came online briefly to send me a quick flurry of IMs just to say hello. Now, I know I call him Mr. Aloof for a reason, but it is not in keeping with what I know of him that he would so completely blow me off.

I sent him some IMs over the week and got no response- fair enough, he may not have been online. I sent two emails as well, but if he's not online, he wouldn't have gotten those either. I also sent some texts. I thought for sure I would hear from him by yesterday. But I didn't. So I called. And his phone is switched off. So I called the home number- no answer. I called again this morning, phone still off, still no answer.

I am not so self centered as to think this has anything to do with me. I am in fact, quite worried. I will call his office tomorrow to see what they say. I expect something strange or otherwise unpleasant. When you meet people on the internet, how would anyone else know to contact them if something happens to you? Especially if you set up special accounts for your online activities. This sucks.

Cooking Experiment 1

I am calling this post '1' because it is very possible that there may be other cooking experiment posts during the length of this blog as it's something I do somewhat frequently.

I love cooking, and will make stuff from recipes. However, often I just see something and think it will go with something else and just get into the kitchen and see what happens. My latest concoction started from a harissa from Broadway Market which inspired me to consider it used with a lamb dish. T often makes a layered potato and eggplant and lamb thing and I thought it would be the perfect dish to use the harissa with.

So I went to Broadway Market this morning, got an eggplant and some chestnut mushrooms and some beautiful looking ciabatta, along with some other stuff. I had some new potatoes in the fridge, and some minced lamb in the freezer. I also got last week from the Market an amazing tomato sauce made from sunfire tomatoes (which look funky) and some sunfire tomatoes to go with it.

So my made up dish was so: I thinly sliced the potatoes and partially cooked them. Layered them into a greased casserole dish. I sliced up the chestnut mushrooms and half a red onion that was in the fridge and cooked those down with some oil and garlic. I spread that over the potatoes. I poured some of the tomato sauce in at this point, as I had many pots and pans going at once and hand some leftover. I sliced up some eggplant and layered that over. Then I pan fried up the lamb with more garlic, the harissa, the tomato sauce, and some of the tomatoes roughly chopped. I poured this over the casserole then arranged sliced tomatoes over the top and topped with some buffalo mozzarella. Now it's in the oven cooking for another 15 minutes before I go see how it's doing.

Of course I'm not that hungry and I cooked enough to feed six. I hate living alone. I may taste it this evening and then T might come over for dinner tomorrow.. but that will still leave a ton of the stuff. I suppose I could take it for lunch next week or just eat it for dinner. Though no matter how good something is, I can't usually eat it that many days in a row. Unless of course, it's sushi.


Cooking Experiment 1

(Update: Mmmmmmmmmmmmm)

Alone

I am sitting in a rather lonely corner of my office today. Just got a text from my coworker C who says that she and T and H were all here until 3:30 finishing something so are taking the day off. P, my boss is also away, and so far A who sits in our little urban design corner hasn't come in either. Which means it's just me sitting here with my noisy computer feeling very unmotivated to do actual work. What else is new?

I'm chatting with SA on IM. He and SHH have very similar life problems. Not being able to prioritize what they want out of life. What is it, doing a job you like, or the money? Both want everything. No one gets everything. Okay, some people get everything but, lets be realistic. In order to be happy in life, you need to get your priorities together. If what you really care about is the money, then just admit that to yourself and stop complaining about how you want to do something else but can't take a pay cut. If you want to do something else, then suck it up that you will need to change your lifestyle, but that will be okay, because you will be doing work that you want to be doing.

Why is this so fucking difficult for people? I do actually really enjoy the work I do. And yeah, I could make more money but I wouldn't be happy. And it's not like I make horrible money. I live comfortably enough. But clearly it's more important for me to do work I want to be doing than make money. And since I know that, I'm not conflicted in life. Well, not about job stuff anyway. Never about job stuff. And I don't really understand my friends with all their whining about work. Shit or get off the pot. It's not that fucking difficult, you know?

Sharpie Markers

Brits don't seem to have sharpie markers. They don't know what they are missing. For years I used the black ones for many things. They were the architecture student's poche friend, when you were too terrified to try painting with ink.

They write on cds, they write on plastic, they write on everything!

And then they released the colors.... oh the colors! I brought back packages of sharpie markers when I went to the states. There is simply nothing like them.

Stupid Blogger

It is completely screwing with my blog. GR!

New Flatmate

C got the job!!!!! Isn't it fantastic when things work out. I'm still sad that Z has gone, but new flatmate sorted, and a friend of mine to boot! I assume living together will be okay. I don't think I'm particularly difficult to live with and neither is she. We overlapped each other for three weeks before, and that went alright.

Of course I'm going to have to explain my social life. A good introduction is the two bookshelves of erotica (over 50% of which is bdsm based) and the riding crop I keep on my nightstand. I just get this vibe that she's not going to understand though. I'd never be so insensitive as to expose her to any of it. I'm not into exhibitionism at all and get very conscious of any naughty noises when someone else is in the flat. I guess it's my American upbringing.

Still, I'm not going to worry about the negatives. I have a new flatmate who happens to be a friend. Work is going well. It's sunny and nice outside. And at the moment, that's good enough for me.

BDSM Dating Hassles

So things go on as they do with Mr. Aloof. I may see him tomorrow, I may not. Mr. Ball and I are supposed to meet on Wednesday next week. Which will only be bad if things with Mr. Aloof progress on Sunday to the point where I shouldn't really be looking for a new person. And what's going on today? I am getting IMed from Mr. Noshow.

Mr. Noshow I had to dispose of in January after putting up with his excuses since November. We had a good time together, but he just couldn't stick to his word. Couldn't make a time to meet. Didn't follow through on anything he said.

To be fair, these are bad traits anyway. But in a bdsm sense, it's fatal. If you cannot trust someone to do simple things they say, how the hell can you trust them to hit you and/or tie you up? You can't. And so I had to get rid of Mr. Noshow.

Thing is, Mr. Noshow was the first person I ever really had a bdsm experience with. So in a horrible nostalgic way, I can't just get rid of him forever. It's not the experiences together we had that I have issues with, it was his behavior otherwise that led me to drop him. But there he is, offering play. And I am currently without play and find myself considering....

But I can't. Until I know. About Mr. Aloof and Mr. Ball. An the reality is, I should not go see Mr. Noshow regardless because I don't trust him. It's not smart. Damnit.

In the Morning

I can't motivate my sorry ass to get up and just go to work even though I have oodles of things to do by lunch and will be working in a mad panic. I think sometimes I work better in a mad panic. I tend to leave things until the last possible minute. I'm not good at 'getting things done ahead of time'. I suppose it's just a lifelong personal problem.

C is coming today for her interview tomorrow. Spoke briefly with her last night and she is nervous since she has now decided she wants the job. That's always difficult. I'm glad I'm sort of stuck in my job for the next couple of years or so, you know, unless I get fired.... paranoia....

My hands are breaking out again. I've got this rather annoying condition called 'atopic dermatitis'. It blows. It means I get red dry itchy patches of skin mostly on my hands, but also on elbows, knees, mouth and eyes. Sometimes odd little patches show up elsewhere, but it's my hands that have been so severely hit the past few years (oh yeah, it tends to move around). My usual creams and drugs aren't helping so much. And it's something I tend to get quite self conscious about. Right now I just wish they would stop fucking itching. I've been known to scratch through to bleeding.

On the plus side, when I had poison ivy, it was like a walk in the park.

GFP Bunny

What the hell? How is this five years old and I just found out about it yesterday???? That is completely nuts. First of all, jellyfish? Nasty evil creatures. Then to cross that with a sweet little albino bunny? As I emailed out to my friends, all I want to know is....

When the hell do I get to glow green?!?



(Update: CJC says, "When you stick a glowstick up your ass" but LOOK at that bunny man, it's just not the same! Though.... could be interesting.... hehe)

What Shade of Moron am I?

Okay, what is wrong with me? First of all, earlier post today... there I am writing about the consultation I have tonight and also saying that T was coming over for dinner and dvd watching. Hello. What the fuck?

Then, my boss drives me all the way back to my place which was cool, and then I get out of the car and look for my bag- no bag! First instinct, 'Shit! Did it get stolen? Did I leave it in Brixton?' And then I remember. I never took my bag home. I walked out of the office without my keys and everything. So there we are, outside my flat and I have to explain to my boss my stupidity. Luckily, I have a spare key with S. And I had my mobile. So I called S and my boss drove me to her place by London Fields and then was very cool and drove me back to my flat, and here I am.

So.. what shade of moron am I exactly? Just slap my ass and call me bimbosa. Or don't. I might like it too much.

Glue syringe

Now I'm waiting.

My job, after getting everything to the consultants was to 'clean up' an old model in the office. It's tiny and dusty and basically in no shape to be shown to anyone, certainly not a bunch of disgruntled residents.

Times like this I find myself achingly missing things that I'm used to. Like sharpie markers. But that's not what I was missing now. What I really want is a glue syringe. When you build lots of models, as you do in architecture school, you learn all sorts of tricks for making things, and learn about all sorts of tools. One of the best things I always had was a glue syringe. For spreading the tiniest bead of glue onto the tiniest model parts. Very handy with tweezers and thin 1/64" threads of wood.

For that matter, I miss Elmers glue, too. All we seem to have in the office is glue sticks and epoxy, neither of which is the right sort of glue for repairing a tired little model. What's wrong with British people? Don't they understand modern conveniences? Don't even get me started on the toilets... that'll have to be another post.

Hurry Up and Wait

Look at me at work being bad!

This morning I've had a crunch of work to do because my boss is leaving for meetings all afternoon and I need him to approve consultation boards for, you guessed it, yet another consultation tonight in Brixton. Our consultants are designing the boards so it's a bit of a back and forth since we're in charge of what goes on the boards but they are doing the putting together bit.

So it's a lot of rushing to send things out today, then waiting until they send things back and then rushing around making changes and then waiting until they send things back. A bit high pressure really. Not so fun on a Monday.

Hackney Central last night turned out to be just fine. Had fun with N the bartender who also ended up serving (I said the service was not so great- but N is cool) and had yummy roast chicken dinner and split an apple crumble with T. Today T is coming by my place for dinner and some Alias dvd watching. Only 57 episodes to go! She's also bringing by my extra comforter which I lent her when she stayed at mine and then moved into her new place, which is good because C will need it when she stays on Wednesday.

Thirty five minutes until lunch. I'm starving.

Work Tomorrow

Weekends are too goddamn short. Sunday evening I always end up thinking to myself, "Now what I really need is a day off!". After Z moved out, I went to yoga. Then came home and cleaned up a bit. Rearranged Z's room and put some other furniture in there. Took a shower. Changed some lampshades.

Got a text from T who wants to meet up for dinner at Hackney Central which is my local bar and eaterie. It's slightly out of place in Hackney. And the service tends to always be a bit off. But the food is excellent and inexpensive for what you get. And it's walking distance to my flat. No complaints.

Not sure what dinner with T will be about exactly. Some drunk words were exchanged Friday night... well, sort of. I wasn't at all drunk, but she was. But that was earlier in the evening before she got completely blitzed. So I sort of wonder if I'm being invited to dinner to have a 'discussion'. I don't really feel like having a 'discussion'. If it's just general gossip, that's cool, but I don't want any drama. I'm just not in the mood. I think it might be PMS.

The weather this weekend was pretty stunning. It's nice when the weather decides to cooperate with the weekends. Unfortunately there doesn't seem to be any way that when I go to Helsinki in two weeks that it's going to be anything other than cold. Still, I'm looking forward to my trip.... where's my xanax?

Flatmates

My flatmate Z just moved out today. She paid through the end of the month, but this was when her dad could get the van. So she's gone. And I'm a bit sad. She was a good flatmate. And now I have to find a new one. My friend C is applying for a job in London and will be down from Manchester on Wednesday for an interview on Thursday. There are four others applying for the job, so she may not get it. And it's not so close to Hackney- but she has said if she gets the job she wants to live here. So I'm just waiting I guess to find out what happens.

Z was a really good flatmate. She was/is a page 3 model. But not some nasty druggie partying one. She was actually quite down to earth and cool, and happened to show her tits as a career. Our schedules almost never conflicted and she was generally clean which included cleaning the bathroom (a job I despise)! She bought all the gossip mags so there was always something to read in the lounge. And she shared her Indian takeaways.

I sort of wish I didn't need to have a flatmate, but financially I really do. This place was slightly over my budget, and while I can probably swing a month without the income, it would really be bad for me to not get someone in soon. I hope C moves in. Dealing with strangers is such a hassle. After all, everything here is mine. Do I really want to trust strangers with that? No choice really. I may have to. At least it's more a 'normal' thing here. Flatshares. Maybe it's normal in NY or something, but I've never needed to find a place to live there as an adult. And every other city I've lived in, it's not that common- fully furnished rooms in people's houses. Here it's incredibly common.

Just none of this, yeah?

World Jump Day

Holy crap man. If 600 million people jump, we can shift the orbit of the Earth. I have dreams of the planet hurdling out of control. Swinging wildly out of orbit, year after year.. and all because a bunch of people choose to simultaneously jump.

Two Steps Forward

So I got my modem! Yay! Even managed to make it work. It's so nice to reconnected. And what am I doing? Writing this from work. Fuck me. No self control. None whatsoever.

So met up with Mr. Aloof last night. It was good. Comfortable. We ate at Bierodrome in Islington and then went to the Islington Tap where we went the first time we met. I only picked Bierodrome so I could have some kriek. I hate beer, but kriek I've gotten a taste for. Plus I knew the food was alright and generally non offensive.



Dating progress is such an odd thing. Third date rule says we could have been bonking like rabbits by now. However, last night we just kissed. A little. Not a lot. But we sat on the sofa talking, arms linked, leaning on each other, intimate. So odd. But hey, I'm odd. So why shouldn't someone I be seeing be just as odd? I appreciate that even though I wouldn't call our progress very fast, I have a comfort level with him which is good. We have plans for next week. Thursday. And Sunday a day together. Moving forward. Or so it seems.

Now of course I have plans to meet Mr. Ball the week after next. It's hard. Multi-dating. Very hard in a bdsm sense. You can't quite hide it if you have marks and bruises on your person. It's not the same as non-kink dating. You're kind of screwed that way. It forces issues earlier. Well, it forces lots of issues earlier, most of which I don't mind. But this one is hard. It throws things off.

Who am I kidding, I think I'd kind of like some serial monogamy for a while. I'll just see what happens.

Killing Time

I have a habit of getting to places early. Even when I try not to. Tonight I meet Mr. Aloof at Angel. At seven. It would be stretching it to say it would take me twenty minutes to get there. So of course I'm going to leave at 6:30 and be early. But I can't be earlier than that. It's just unreasonable.

So I'm at work. Illegally surfing the web and being monitored. Listening to the 17th disc in the Live @ the World Cafe Cds from WXPN. I love these Cds. Once I discovered them, I bought as many as I could, but the first ones are hard to come by. You see them on ebay for $100 or so every now and then. The earliest I have is number 4. I had downloaded most of them from bearshare at one point. But that computer is sitting collecting dust in my mother's closet, as she likes to remind me every now and then and piss me off.


Oh yeah, and I'm listening on my zen nomad. None of this ipod bullshit. As a designer, I appreciate the ipod design. And they do have kick ass marketing. But I don't look at my mp3 player, I listen to fucking music on it. So why would I go with an inferior product?


30 gigs, filled. I need a 60 gig one now. I don't even have half my music on this thing.

Big Brother

So my office is monitoring internet use now. Being friends with the IT person is handy. I got a better description of what 'monitoring' meant. They aren't tracking individuals, or websites. Yet. They're just catching people doing massive downloads, streaming, etc.

Still, this stirs up my inherent paranoia. I can become very paranoid. Completely convinced I am about to be fired, even if unfounded.

'Yes but,' you say, 'if you weren't doing bad things, you wouldn't have anything to be paranoid about.'

'Eh, fuck off!' I say, 'Self control has never been my strong suit.'

Consultation

For the third time in four days, I need to go to Brixton. This time is for a consultation. Sometimes I do fine at consultations. Sometimes I have no patience for people. I think I will be fine today, but I'm tired and don't really want to go. I think I will try to do as little as possible. Smile and look pretty. Ha.

Weekends

Still no modem which means, although my DSL is turned on today, I can't get at it. Son of a bitch. Really though, it's alright. Tomorrow morning I am going to my other friend S's new flat to assist with her moving in. Then I may pop around Broadway Market since she lives about a stones throw away. And I love Broadway Market. So yummy. Then I have to go to a community consultation in Brixton. Where I was earlier today I might ad. So annoying.

I don't get paid to work on weekends. Son of a bitch.

Anyway. It's Friday and I'm waiting on yet another friend S (really, I should number them or something) to finish what she's doing so we can go grab a drink and maybe a bite to eat. Though honestly, I shouldn't eat out, I should have the broccoli that's waiting for me at home. And maybe a potato.

Next week booking tickets to Helsinki. And my boss is back. Which means work computer access drops off to nil. Where is my modem? Son of a bitch.

Mike the Headless Chicken

I like weird shit. Every now and then (okay, fairly frequently) something crosses my path that I make a mental note of. My mind is full of useless information about very strange things. One of my favorite things to pull out is MIke the Headless Chicken.

I was recently reminded of this useless trivia when I went to a reading by David Sedaris. He asked everyone if they happened to know anything about chicken egg fertilization and reproduction, to let him know at the signing, since he had recently become curious about the subject.

Oddly enough, about six months ago, I became obsessed with understanding chicken egg fertilzation. Now I have a book from David saying, "Dear K----, thanks for the information on chicken sperm!". I think it's one of my current most prized posessions.

hahaha

You are

What Rejected Crayon Are You?

The random association is uncanny.

FMP

So I keep thinking I should record this story. I have lots of good stories. Like J the half Mexican, that's a good story. But this story, the FMP story, is one that I don't really remember. It was my story, and then I lost it. But apparently, it was such a good story that it lives on. Sort of like the 'you made me lose my email at work' story, but different.

So once upon a time I lived with M. And M had lots and lots of sex. All the time. And really noisy too. Sort of in that fake porn star way, but hey, it obviously worked for her, more power to her. While M was a bit of a sex fiend, she was also mostly a serial monogamist. And I mean, you'd think that the noises that someone makes in the heat of passion are base animalistic sounds, that just emerge from within. Point being, you would think, they were sounds you didn't have much control over.

But one of the things that freaked me out about M was that she sounded different with each guy. Which really, if you knew her, made sense, because she was like that chameleon girl who gloms to on to whatever she thinks the guy wants her to be. So different guys would mean it sounded like a different pornstar was living in her room. The soft moaner, the high pitched wailer, the grunter, the groaner. Never the same with a different guy. But always it was M.

For a while, M was seeing my friend B. We lived in a little duplex and her bedroom was above the living room. Apparently (this is where I forget my own story) me and S were downstairs in the living room. We had all been hanging out, smoking pot, and M and B went upstairs to fuck. So S and I are down below, and the sounds of banging start. So far, all normal occurrences for our little duplex, when out of friggin no where comes this blood curdling scream "FUCK MY PUSSY!". Maybe it was because we were high, but this was the most hilarious thing possible. I mean, after all that banging, what the hell else had he been fucking?

Recently, I met up with B in New York, and he mentioned FMP. He said, "You just can't throw something like that out there in the middle of things with no preparation and no warning. It can really throw a guy off his stride." I related the story to S who was thrilled that she hasn't been making up the FMP story all these years. I never thought she was making it up, I just have no memory of the actual event . And so I can't even tell the story. I don't remember why it's so funny exactly. And yet FMP just lingers on.

Recycle Your Dead

First it was those crazy Swedes recycling their dead.

Now you've got some Brits jumping in to help recycle their dead.

And in case you were wondering what you could do to help recycle yourself?



Actually, I was reminded of these more amusing links above by a new site that I think is pretty good. So good in fact, I think I will add it to my list at the right. Environmentalism doesn't have to be hairy.

Access

There was something I was going to link to here that I thought about yesterday and promptly forgot. I am seriously looking forward to my home broadband being set up. Especially since we just got a 'we will begin monitoring all internet exchanges' email at work which has been my only internet source for the past two years.

Am going out with S and T and some other letter who works with T at Burberry to some place in Balham that 'has bands'. I don't really off-hand want to go, but S has been a bit pants lately and so when he invited me to go along, I thought I would be the bigger person and make an effort to go, instead of perpetuating the 'we're not meeting up' thing that's been going on. Though I'm not sure why I'm the one making the big effort to truck down to zone 3 south of the river when he's been the flake. Whatever. It's good to get out and about which I don't generally do enough of so as good an excuse as any.

And since we're not meeting up until 8/8:30, I may sneak in a one hour drink with Mr. Aloof who lives one stop north of where I'm headed. But Mr. Aloof may be true to his namesake, and not have the time. Though he told me to pen him in for Thursday, so a girl really shouldn't be too greedy, should she? It's just that we're at the critical move forward to getting some action part of our intricate dance. So tension and expectation and suggestion all running high. It's either going to lead to something grand or be an amazing belly flop. I guess it's a good thing I've got Mr. Ball on the pull just in case then.

Gullible

Right right. So said photographers pulling of his blog was actually an April Fools prank. I'm so trusting. Damn.

This weekend was fantastic weather in London. Perfect weather. Warm in the sun. Cool in the shade. Blue skies and white fluffy clouds. I managed to be partially productive. Hung some pictures that have been waiting to be hung for months. Unpacked a box of photos that has been waiting to be unpacked for months. Actually unpacked my suitcases within one week of being home and put them away. Amazing! Went to Broadway Market which was really nice. Walked through London Fields. Opened the windows and aired out my flat. Saved the life of a bumble bee.



Went to London Fetish Fair on Sunday. Checked out my new custom collar, wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs set. It was fantastic. Not finished. All finished except the eyelets. And they are waiting for custom eyelets because the ones they normally use aren't long enough. I also got talked into buying a corset, which was a pretty Goth corset. Which is funny, because I'm not Goth at all. But it's good to have clothes to become someone else for an evening or two. Or to go to a club in. Or go to a costume party in. Oh hell. You only live once you know (unless you believe in reincarnation, but still, you only get this particular life once).

I ended up chatting for a while with this cool lesbian chick who was there with her partner filming a documentary type thing for channel five on people's thoughts on their bodies. She was very Hoxton-styling. But said no, she just always has loved the 70's. When asked if she grew up admiring Olivia Newton John, she admitted instead to a desire to wanting to be David Cassidy.

Joy and Pain

I have never been one to relish April Fools. Pranks make me feel queasy. I like snarky humor. But I don't like cruelty. So odd that fate has given me a day of highs and lows. And it's not even noon. Fuck.

Anyway. Joy first. I think, fingers crossed, I passed my first ARE exam. I did the 'prometric cheat' and it doesn't list my exam to schedule, which apparently means I passed. Which rocks. Because the exam was very hard and I wasn't sure at all upon leaving how I had done. Now, eight more to go.

Pain. My favorite blogger is taking an indefinite leave of absence. He deserves it, surely. But it doesn't mean that I won't miss it terribly. I've added a link to his portfolio site, for as long as that's around. Or unless he asks me to remove it, but hey, no one reads this blog anyway. (So if you found it, using your sneaky reverse tracking method oh web-master-that-I-am-not, don't worry.) This blog is for me really. Quicker than writing in my journal. And another way to procrastinate at work.

But damn it. I'm sad. It sucks. To exist in the glow of the sphere of another. And to have the light go out.