April 7th, 2004

bearded monkey god

(no subject)

This week, Rob says:

Seeing as how you're at the peak of your popularity and in the harvest phase of your yearly cycle, why not suggest to your friends that they organize a celebration in your honor? A parade could launch the festivities, with you riding in a red Cadillac convertible followed by floats depicting the turning points in your life. When you arrive at the banquet hall, you'll be carried on a litter to a throne. You'll eat a gourmet dinner featuring your favorite food while a series of allies comes to the microphone to describe what they like most about you. To conclude the party, a band will play a set of songs written especially for you. These are merely suggestions, Gemini. You may have different ideas about how you'd like to be glorified. Just make sure you communicate them clearly to the proper people.

Um. Or, like, not.

Dunno. I have good friends who like me. And, oddly enough, fans and admirers. I'm also more than slightly arrogant (pardon me -- self confident ;-) I generally feel amply glorified.
choo choo (mail)

Yesterday's papers and yesterday's news...

It's been an odd 24 hours or so, in that I spent a lot of yesterday evening catching up with all the LiveJournalling you guys have done in the past week, and now I'm grabbing my email off Yahoo Mail (with a program called YoSucker!) from the last year and a half...

Very retrospective, at least compared to my usual.

On that note: two years ago, in April of 2002, I was just about to start a figure-sculpting class and take Janet Hardy's "Ethical Sluthood" class. I never *did* take that bartending class. And I was already distinctly post-bootcamp at that point because I was doing a twice-a-week kickboxing class.

Man. Didn't realize that I'd been slacking off on really seriously exercising for almost two years already :-)
monkey tattoo


I seem to have been struck down by some form of ambient nastiness going around. I'm achey and ridiculously tired...

I just *really* hope this breaks in plenty of time for the DHP. I'm *so* not looking forward to lots of cleanup and shopping like this, and I've now officially put it off too long. For decent reasons, but still. Oy.
choo-choo (dzaa!)

(no subject)

So there I was, sickness-addled, on AIM, and several things came together that suddenly make sense. I'm writing it down before I regain my wits.

Specialized sentiments call for specialized vocabulary. There are many things that deserve their own words, and have to be referred to obliquely. Particularly in written communication, these days we tend to use cute acronyms. For instance, Dan Savage, who gives relationship advice, has the cute acronym DTMFA, for Dump The MotherFucker Already.

Despite the questions he routinely gets, "motherfucker" is used figuratively rather than literally in that phrase.

I frequently want to ask other people overpersonal questions, with the preceding disclaimer that I know they're personal and the person can refuse to answer without causing offense.

So from here on out, I should start using the acronym "FOIFA", standing for "Fuck Off Is A Fine Answer", as in the phrase, "So, FOIFA, but why haven't you DTMFA?"