I don’t know whether this will annoy my fOlks or not… but I just boosted my top score on Tetris by four thousand points and that is NOT something that happens every day. Anyway, a personal best.
my mood
went to a social media platform – shan’t say which one – to tell everyone there where my fanfic is located on a03 – and got 26 kudos overnight.
From three people, most of it was a single person. That person, wherever (she?) likely is, spent at least 12 hours out of her one wild and precious life bingeing my shit and so this morning my reaction is a classic MWAHAHA.
I have a LOT of laundry to hang, lol.
10078 words.
lovely Chag Sameach call from Tammy, we talked for ages and really caught up. I am so glad that she and her family are all doing well, and that she has a trip planned for July (but to where, she can’t say). She may or may not be back here for Christmas. Work for her as a therapist is still disturbingly busy and she’s currently caught up in the multinational maelstrom known as the Toronto real estate market, but if the winds are propitious all will be well.
Three kudos overnight (appear to have collected a new serial reader LOL with a super cute user name), 9973 words on “Totally Boned” – the working title for my little romantic thriller, wordle in five, and I ran the dishwasher and washed and dried two loads of laundry yesterday (also cleaned out the laundry room sink and tidied the kitchen).
Jeff made a Timmy Ho’s run and there were NO HONEY GLAZED! INTERNAL WAILING well go at 8:30 am and that’s what happens. He got croissants and raised chocolate donuts instead. I’ve started an old-fashioned craving too, they are good and not super sweet.
Left a message for Mike.
Getting into Raised by Wolves! Like a lot. What a weird disturbing show. Finished (I think this is my third time through) Elementary. I think we’ll probably go back and watch the whole thing again, forever, on repeat. It’s the most nearly perfect network TV show ever, and, unlike POI, doesn’t bloodily kill the lesbian character just as she’s about to be happy and represents an appropriate platonic friendship without being bloodless or sappy about it.
We should probably go back to watching ER, it’s nice and LONG.
All of a sudden I’m dizzy and I just spent 10 minutes hovering over the john. I’m not barfing but I feel gross. No fever, no coughing, but I definitely have chills.
Buster’s mewing at me to be normal this morning, I keep ignoring him because I feel sick.
Somebody put a clue about wordle on twitter this morning so I got it in two tries, my best showing in ages. Can’t win without cheating, sounds like capitalism.
My anxiety quieted briefly yesterday but it’s back and sky high. When Katie phoned me yesterday to tell me that I could come visit I told her to lie down and sleep. So she did.
No kudos, a teensy bit of writing, much thinking.
—later – one kudo, on the pandemical romance

I hope with the following rather long post I can establish that no matter which particular rhetorical stab you make at it, Russia is guilty of war crimes.
Article 8
War Crimes
Most of this shown below is a repeat, but it shows that EVEN IF Putin declares that this military adventure is an internal matter for the Russian government to deal with… that it is an armed conflict not of an international character …. the FUCKING RULES ABOUT WAR CRIMES – the crimes for which you can be tried – still apply.
RUSSIA IS A SIGNATORY TO ALL OF THIS. <——- so Putin can’t skate on this as not being war crimes, EVEN IF it’s an armed conflict not of an international character or a ‘special military operation’ or whatever the fuck bogus locution in any language whatsoever that he throws at it.
The ever left Paul Blinkhorn shares this gem on twitter today, to which my response was candid and unhappy. The National Front, which grew out of the homegrown fascists of the 20s and 30s and still exists in the UK although with neither seats nor electoral results, literally showed a platform INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM THAT OF CONTEMPORARY TORIES. Except for the capital punishment, and they only left that one in place because live prisoners are more of a revenue stream for Tory prison contract lobbyists than dead ones, and I wish I was exaggerating.
The next time someone asks you what is an Overton window, you can tap this post and say THIS IS WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.
9973 words, no kudos, lots of fermentation happening.
I seem to have handled the medication changes reasonably well.
Cow appreciates man outstanding in his field.
Did some kind of weird EDS thing to my knee yesterday – the tendons on the back of my knee wandered around and it hurt like hell but I put it down to how I hadn’t been using my insole-slippers and once I found them and started using them again the pain started to lift and when I woke up this morning it was gone.
Buster’s communication board is inbound. I’m excited and concerned that he’ll just ignore it, but I know for a fact I’m not going to have any problem reselling it for what I paid for it…. so I’m not too worried. This morning he didn’t want to come into the bathroom with me and walked into the kitchen. I figured he wanted the door rather than skritches so in the bathroom I said “Do you want the door?” I let him out and then raced downstairs to open the cat door. Within seconds he’d come back in the cat door and was staring at it. I couldn’t tell whether he wanted me to close the door again (he wants that sometimes if there’s a mean cat outside) but after a second he trotted away and quit glaring at the door, so I brushed him for a while.
I owe Jeff a meal so we’re going to pick something up from IHOP.
Katie provided me with a little light therapy yesterday. It’s stupid to say that a baby is the light of a house. I mean, I loved my own kids with a fierceness that scared me – and one can argue that it isn’t love, more like an accumulation of shared experiences that starts before birth and is dependent on hormones – and Ryker’s ability to make an entire room smile is thus explained.
But he’s a remarkably pleasant human being; not perfect, but perfect for a baby, so that twenty second period as he gazes at you until he recognizes you as part of ‘my people’ is always fraught. And then he smiles, and wiggles, and the world is better for a fragile second.
No kudos. I’m going to try to write, later, but right now all I can think of is a roast beef slider and coffee to start my day.
We’re watching episode three of Raised By Wolves (just started) and Jeff says, “As I get older I hate religion more and more.”
I understand this sentiment very well, but said, “I believe my experience has given me a better understanding of its consolations and benefits,” and Jeff acknowledged that I probably had a more useful take. But that said, the pure misogyny, life or death control over minor children and social control of everyone else involved forced on us by religions makes the whole enterprise suspect. Even Unitarians do evil.
Know well that I love you all, and I’d feel that way even if Christianity didn’t put that as a requirement on us that even atheists feel through repeated ‘lessons’. After all, you signed up for this blog, or wandered into it by accident. So here, have a blessing.
No kudos, 9463 words. I’ll have lots to say about Ryker after I get back.
I have no auxiliary fucks; I have no emergency fucks. I have no fucks that were overlooked by shipping; I have no fucks in the back, even if I look, twice. I don’t have any in the crawlspace, the attic, or that unused pair of boots. It’s entirely set to zero, my number of fucks.