"words adjusting themselves to their meaning"

a poetry quote rather than a song lyric for a change.

i started off this post by typing "and now, for some trivia" and then went into the origins of the word trivia. and then got far, far too geeky for my own good, and since i can't factcheck right now, it was all by memory, so i removed it all. but you should totally look up the history of the word if you don't know it already.

sometimes, it's really hard not to chase people. i'm getting pretty good at it, i think, maybe erring a little too much on side of caution but still, i think i've mostly stopped trying to restart email conversations that have petered out, or try and resurrect friendships from years past. well, there was a card sent to my sophomore year roommate, and there are these tendrils of connection that livejournal affords me, but for the most part, i'm learning to thwart my desires to contact people a third or a fourth time. mostly, i think it's some fear of explicit rejection being more devastating than implicit, or accidental rejection, but also some fear of being (or even just feeling) messy, of needing to be 'dealt with' or 'talked to'. all of this boils down to the fact that i probably should just trim my contacts list on my work email, so these little pangs will occur less and less frequently as time passes and i don't look at the names anymore.

i used to think that when i loved people, or even cared for them, it was pretty much forever, if there wasn't any sort of catastrophic break. and i know there are people who pride themselves on this, that they don't need constant, or even semi-constant, or even occasional contact. but it still feels like i'm changing so much that anyone who tries to follow along at home at last needs to catch the "last season, on o_m's life" highlights so as to not be entirely lost. which isn't to say that if any number of people from college, and a smaller number of people from my post-college life showed up wanting/needing to crash on my futon, i wouldn't let them. i just might not hope that they liked me anymore.

cooler weather makes the cats cuddly and the walk home from work easier on me, but it's so incredibly hard to get up out of my warm bed in the morning, when it's dark outside the windows and cold outside the bed and Light's still asleep and Noisy's curled up against my stomach, and Princess is curled up on my feet.

Blueberry muffins with Unexpected on Monday rocked, and seeing Spark, however briefly, and Donkey Konga 2 and Cathouse with Lilo and Host also rocked. Potluck tonight, and I'll be bringing pulan and watermelon most likely, and then a horror movie tomorrow that sounds like it may or may not have other people come along with me. my tamora pierce arrived in the mail so i'm in the midst of an orgy of rereading cheesy young adult fantasy novels that won't count at all towards my books-to-read for the year. i'm tempted by the 50-X-a-year communities i find on LJ, most specifically the books, movies and meals, but can't be bothered to read through the traffic, and it seems somehow cheating if i want to post without wanting to read others. I check out Reader's memories periodically, since i think she has fantastic taste, but that's the closest i get to reading the community itself.

it might be my last fall here, which i try not to think about too often, because it makes me tear up. and i hate that i feel i have to remind Light that this moving thing throws any attempts to plan for next year into serious question, be it visiting his parents, visiting my little brothers, or even something like going to falconridge. and i don't like the feeling of making him sad by pointing out the obvious, but i don' t know how to behave otherwise. i understand i could simply not say anything, but that feels a little bit like lying.

i need to treat myself to a manicure and a haircut next week, pre-wedding. i've been growing the nail on my left pinkie out, and the whole thing, cuticle to twisty tip measures almost an inch. and i need to find girlygirly highheeled shoes, and a necklace, and buy nylons, and figure out exactly what kind of clothing as armor i'll need for a trip to pittsburgh. we ordered The Big Over Easy and Freakonomics as audio books, and will probably pick up some OTC sleeping meds, so i don't drive light mad on the way down with demands to be entertained. (if i've babbled about this before, bear with, i'll be able to see my own post this afternoon and modify accordingly) maybe tomorrow post-movie will give me shoe-shopping time. damn my over-large, strangely shaped feet and my pathological dislike of toe-cleavage.

i need to post about books again, but i keep thinking "just one more and then it'll be a substantial post." i'm ecstatic that light's enjoying the brust i recommended, it feels a victory all out of proportion, and i need/want to get ABG a book, but i'm terrified i'll get him something he won't like and then he'll never tell me and i'll find out years from now he only read like the first three pages and i'll feel like an idiot. well, maybe not that extreme, but something like that.

light and i were talking about holiday presents, and how i've channeled all my desires into household things, but then feel strangely cheated when i get presents that are house-oriented. and i understand how it's easier to want things that aren't really specifically for me, but i'm not sure i understand the cheated, 'cause they're not things Light would get for the house of his own accord. and i'm afraid part of it is my small niggling (i just looked that up and strangely enough, it really is a word, no matter how much it doesn't look like one right now to me) fear that i'm turning into a housewife, subsuming identity in daily food preparation, even i'm resolute in my desire to never reproduce and i'm pretty sure that's part of the definition of housewife.

but that doesn't stop me from wanting pretty new dishtowels. or curtains. particularly insulating ones for this winter. maybe that'll come after painting and before the bedframe on the elaborate and constantly-shifting list of house-wants. maybe it doesn't matter why i'm nesting, or how long i'll get to stay in this particular nest, only that it oftens serves to calm me.
--

"words adjusting themselves to their meaning"

a poetry quote rather than a song lyric for a change.

i started off this post by typing "and now, for some trivia" and then went into the origins of the word trivia. and then got far, far too geeky for my own good, and since i can't factcheck right now, it was all by memory, so i removed it all. but you should totally look up the history of the word if you don't know it already.

sometimes, it's really hard not to chase people. i'm getting pretty good at it, i think, maybe erring a little too much on side of caution but still, i think i've mostly stopped trying to restart email conversations that have petered out, or try and resurrect friendships from years past. well, there was a card sent to my sophomore year roommate, and there are these tendrils of connection that livejournal affords me, but for the most part, i'm learning to thwart my desires to contact people a third or a fourth time. mostly, i think it's some fear of explicit rejection being more devastating than implicit, or accidental rejection, but also some fear of being (or even just feeling) messy, of needing to be 'dealt with' or 'talked to'. all of this boils down to the fact that i probably should just trim my contacts list on my work email, so these little pangs will occur less and less frequently as time passes and i don't look at the names anymore.

i used to think that when i loved people, or even cared for them, it was pretty much forever, if there wasn't any sort of catastrophic break. and i know there are people who pride themselves on this, that they don't need constant, or even semi-constant, or even occasional contact. but it still feels like i'm changing so much that anyone who tries to follow along at home at last needs to catch the "last season, on o_m's life" highlights so as to not be entirely lost. which isn't to say that if any number of people from college, and a smaller number of people from my post-college life showed up wanting/needing to crash on my futon, i wouldn't let them. i just might not hope that they liked me anymore.

cooler weather makes the cats cuddly and the walk home from work easier on me, but it's so incredibly hard to get up out of my warm bed in the morning, when it's dark outside the windows and cold outside the bed and Light's still asleep and Noisy's curled up against my stomach, and Princess is curled up on my feet.

Blueberry muffins with Unexpected on Monday rocked, and seeing Spark, however briefly, and Donkey Konga 2 and Cathouse with Lilo and Host also rocked. Potluck tonight, and I'll be bringing pulan and watermelon most likely, and then a horror movie tomorrow that sounds like it may or may not have other people come along with me. my tamora pierce arrived in the mail so i'm in the midst of an orgy of rereading cheesy young adult fantasy novels that won't count at all towards my books-to-read for the year. i'm tempted by the 50-X-a-year communities i find on LJ, most specifically the books, movies and meals, but can't be bothered to read through the traffic, and it seems somehow cheating if i want to post without wanting to read others. I check out Reader's memories periodically, since i think she has fantastic taste, but that's the closest i get to reading the community itself.

it might be my last fall here, which i try not to think about too often, because it makes me tear up. and i hate that i feel i have to remind Light that this moving thing throws any attempts to plan for next year into serious question, be it visiting his parents, visiting my little brothers, or even something like going to falconridge. and i don't like the feeling of making him sad by pointing out the obvious, but i don' t know how to behave otherwise. i understand i could simply not say anything, but that feels a little bit like lying.

i need to treat myself to a manicure and a haircut next week, pre-wedding. i've been growing the nail on my left pinkie out, and the whole thing, cuticle to twisty tip measures almost an inch. and i need to find girlygirly highheeled shoes, and a necklace, and buy nylons, and figure out exactly what kind of clothing as armor i'll need for a trip to pittsburgh. we ordered The Big Over Easy and Freakonomics as audio books, and will probably pick up some OTC sleeping meds, so i don't drive light mad on the way down with demands to be entertained. (if i've babbled about this before, bear with, i'll be able to see my own post this afternoon and modify accordingly) maybe tomorrow post-movie will give me shoe-shopping time. damn my over-large, strangely shaped feet and my pathological dislike of toe-cleavage.

i need to post about books again, but i keep thinking "just one more and then it'll be a substantial post." i'm ecstatic that light's enjoying the brust i recommended, it feels a victory all out of proportion, and i need/want to get ABG a book, but i'm terrified i'll get him something he won't like and then he'll never tell me and i'll find out years from now he only read like the first three pages and i'll feel like an idiot. well, maybe not that extreme, but something like that.

light and i were talking about holiday presents, and how i've channeled all my desires into household things, but then feel strangely cheated when i get presents that are house-oriented. and i understand how it's easier to want things that aren't really specifically for me, but i'm not sure i understand the cheated, 'cause they're not things Light would get for the house of his own accord. and i'm afraid part of it is my small niggling (i just looked that up and strangely enough, it really is a word, no matter how much it doesn't look like one right now to me) fear that i'm turning into a housewife, subsuming identity in daily food preparation, even i'm resolute in my desire to never reproduce and i'm pretty sure that's part of the definition of housewife.

but that doesn't stop me from wanting pretty new dishtowels. or curtains. particularly insulating ones for this winter. maybe that'll come after painting and before the bedframe on the elaborate and constantly-shifting list of house-wants. maybe it doesn't matter why i'm nesting, or how long i'll get to stay in this particular nest, only that it oftens serves to calm me.
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