"the sound of your voice when you stop talking"

blankets: Pre-Light, i was obsessed with the accumulation of blankets. I slept with enough on my bed that i got that comfortably-pinned-down feeling in the winter, and i tried to never turn the heat on, because that was an admission of failure of my blanket-acquisition skills. and i still covet fuzzy or particularly warm looking or brightly colored ones from the hundreds of home-improvement catalogs that find their way to me. but between the difference in relative body temperatures, cover-wars staged in our sleep (both of us assume we are the victim and the other the aggressor, of course), and my attempt to basically snuggle inside of Light (a la tonton(?)), my blankets are a thing of the past, and i'm lucky if i can keep the sheet, a blanket and the comforter on the bed throughout the night.

tattoos: i've grown dissatisfied with the two pieces on my back. not dissatisfied like "ohmigod, get them off of me" they're still markers of important things, even if they're not all that visually interesting to me. and hell, i don't see them very often, so even if they weren't, it wouldn't be the end of the world. (they're what i think of as standard porn-star tat locations, something on the left shoulder, and something on the lowerback/upper ass.) i'd like to expand both of them, i think, but i'm not sure into what. i don't think i need it to be an emotionally meaningful image, i've got four of those now, and at least one more to come. and every so often Argent will post about her Goblin Market paper, and i'll be refilled with a desire i thought i'd talked myself out of, to get one of the laurence houseman illustrations as a tat. and really, i just need to be brave enough to find an artist and actually be comfortable talking to them. but both of the people who have done work on me that i've really loved have left new england, and i'm made uncomfortable by the people at both loonar and lucky's, and i'm never quite sure if i'm cool enough for my tats.

people: Talked to my favorite aunt on my mom's side and Harpsichord on AIM recently, and both conversastions were fantastic for different reasons. hopes were kindled in my heart of seeing both of them in the next two months.

books: went to the library, and gorged. am currently adoring the writing style of Candyfreak but would seriously, seriously love a book recommendation of any sort from anyone who actually reads this sentence. or, if you send me a book to read that you like, once i have read it and determined from it what i think you might like, i'll send you one back. (i have a feeling that my entries are too dense and no one gets to the bottom, which is obviously not enough of a problem for me to change my format, so it's neither here nor there, but somewhere inbetween, which is a fantastically obvious turn of phrase, and i think i used to know the rhetorical figure it utilizes, but no longer do)

"the sound of your voice when you stop talking"

blankets: Pre-Light, i was obsessed with the accumulation of blankets. I slept with enough on my bed that i got that comfortably-pinned-down feeling in the winter, and i tried to never turn the heat on, because that was an admission of failure of my blanket-acquisition skills. and i still covet fuzzy or particularly warm looking or brightly colored ones from the hundreds of home-improvement catalogs that find their way to me. but between the difference in relative body temperatures, cover-wars staged in our sleep (both of us assume we are the victim and the other the aggressor, of course), and my attempt to basically snuggle inside of Light (a la tonton(?)), my blankets are a thing of the past, and i'm lucky if i can keep the sheet, a blanket and the comforter on the bed throughout the night.

tattoos: i've grown dissatisfied with the two pieces on my back. not dissatisfied like "ohmigod, get them off of me" they're still markers of important things, even if they're not all that visually interesting to me. and hell, i don't see them very often, so even if they weren't, it wouldn't be the end of the world. (they're what i think of as standard porn-star tat locations, something on the left shoulder, and something on the lowerback/upper ass.) i'd like to expand both of them, i think, but i'm not sure into what. i don't think i need it to be an emotionally meaningful image, i've got four of those now, and at least one more to come. and every so often Argent will post about her Goblin Market paper, and i'll be refilled with a desire i thought i'd talked myself out of, to get one of the laurence houseman illustrations as a tat. and really, i just need to be brave enough to find an artist and actually be comfortable talking to them. but both of the people who have done work on me that i've really loved have left new england, and i'm made uncomfortable by the people at both loonar and lucky's, and i'm never quite sure if i'm cool enough for my tats.

people: Talked to my favorite aunt on my mom's side and Harpsichord on AIM recently, and both conversastions were fantastic for different reasons. hopes were kindled in my heart of seeing both of them in the next two months.

books: went to the library, and gorged. am currently adoring the writing style of Candyfreak but would seriously, seriously love a book recommendation of any sort from anyone who actually reads this sentence. or, if you send me a book to read that you like, once i have read it and determined from it what i think you might like, i'll send you one back. (i have a feeling that my entries are too dense and no one gets to the bottom, which is obviously not enough of a problem for me to change my format, so it's neither here nor there, but somewhere inbetween, which is a fantastically obvious turn of phrase, and i think i used to know the rhetorical figure it utilizes, but no longer do)