"now I laugh at how the world changed me"

people come over tonight.

for gaming, which is light's thing, but it'll be interesting to play, particularly with such strong personalities. Light and Boisterous and Spark are all alphas of a sort, and History can certainly be an alpha if he's either challenged or feels called upon to be. (i think i fall in the same category, but i can't be sure.)

but i'll be feeding them. lasagna and hopefully something entitled 'chocolate cheesecake pie' which looks like a lazy cheesecake recipe. and i'm nervous there won't be enough, and they won't like it, and i want to smack myself for falling so comfortably into so many different variations of domesticity.

if you'd presented me with this future, the one i'm living right now, two years ago, five years ago, ten years ago, i would have laughed myself sick. doesn't make it any less precious, just stranger.

my cat has a heart murmur, and is going in for a kitty ultrasound. someone superimportant to me just lost her cat. this has made me very cat-clingy. but i'm also not terribly popular because i'm administering antibiotic capsules by pinning her and throwing them down her throat. she doesn't scratch, she just gets terribly offended.

there are so many things i want to do again. concerts to go to and mountains to climb and apple pies to make and people to visit and places to go, and we went walking the cemetery yesterday, and it was a gorgeous day, but the untended graves, the ones that are just squares set into the ground broke my heart. light made some sort of comment about flowers on the graves, and i nearly started to cry, 'cause i haven't brought my tampa flowers.

i don't know why flowers, or why bring him anything at all, i don't believe he exists anymore, and it's certainly not performative in the traditional sense, i could not possibly care less about my family's performance of grief, or their critique of my performance.

the house is getting more homey. i still have a mildly adversarial relationship with the stove, and i the storage seems all backwards, but it'll be mine. sage and salt helped, the cats calming down helped, a few visitors helped, actually getting the wall of books up helped. (not sorted yet, but that will follow)

but i had toast with ginger preserves, and pomegranate juice and sprite for breakfast, and i've got hardwood floors and a washer and dryer inside where i live, and the bestest boyfriend in the world. and my webcomics taste and my musical taste just intersected, which makes me giggle a little.

"now I laugh at how the world changed me"

people come over tonight.

for gaming, which is light's thing, but it'll be interesting to play, particularly with such strong personalities. Light and Boisterous and Spark are all alphas of a sort, and History can certainly be an alpha if he's either challenged or feels called upon to be. (i think i fall in the same category, but i can't be sure.)

but i'll be feeding them. lasagna and hopefully something entitled 'chocolate cheesecake pie' which looks like a lazy cheesecake recipe. and i'm nervous there won't be enough, and they won't like it, and i want to smack myself for falling so comfortably into so many different variations of domesticity.

if you'd presented me with this future, the one i'm living right now, two years ago, five years ago, ten years ago, i would have laughed myself sick. doesn't make it any less precious, just stranger.

my cat has a heart murmur, and is going in for a kitty ultrasound. someone superimportant to me just lost her cat. this has made me very cat-clingy. but i'm also not terribly popular because i'm administering antibiotic capsules by pinning her and throwing them down her throat. she doesn't scratch, she just gets terribly offended.

there are so many things i want to do again. concerts to go to and mountains to climb and apple pies to make and people to visit and places to go, and we went walking the cemetery yesterday, and it was a gorgeous day, but the untended graves, the ones that are just squares set into the ground broke my heart. light made some sort of comment about flowers on the graves, and i nearly started to cry, 'cause i haven't brought my tampa flowers.

i don't know why flowers, or why bring him anything at all, i don't believe he exists anymore, and it's certainly not performative in the traditional sense, i could not possibly care less about my family's performance of grief, or their critique of my performance.

the house is getting more homey. i still have a mildly adversarial relationship with the stove, and i the storage seems all backwards, but it'll be mine. sage and salt helped, the cats calming down helped, a few visitors helped, actually getting the wall of books up helped. (not sorted yet, but that will follow)

but i had toast with ginger preserves, and pomegranate juice and sprite for breakfast, and i've got hardwood floors and a washer and dryer inside where i live, and the bestest boyfriend in the world. and my webcomics taste and my musical taste just intersected, which makes me giggle a little.