And Moving On, Moving On…

I realized recently that, for all my talk, I’m really good at hinging the things that I want to do on other people.

I earmark plans and file them away. “Things To Do with This Specific Person.” Then I slide them away to collect dust in the corners.

Because I’ve given the responsibility to someone else. It’s not on *me* anymore. It’s on scheduling, it’s on the timing working out right. It’s on the stars aligning so I can do this thing with this person.

Instead of me, choosing to do the things that I want to do.

It’s weird, because there is some line somewhere, between choosing to do it all by yourself, and going for the stoic, depending-on-no-one, thing and then being a complete pack-animal and choosing to follow the people you surround yourself with.

There’s got to be something in the middle. Or, middle-ish. Or, middle-enough-to-work-for-me.

I think that maybe this is also one of those life-things? That maybe take forever.

Because it’s always changing, the people you have, and the things you want to do.

Maybe it’s not so much choosing not to earmark plans for people, but choosing better people to earmark plans for.

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Unwanted Chipmunks

No one asked for them, No one needed them, but here they are:

(That might be a lie. *I* might need them. I just understand that no one else, EVER, wants to listen to this stuff.

Ah, well. My blog, my self-indulgence.)

(That video may or may not have spawned my first-ever Internet Crush back when I was but a wee thing…)

There used to be a version of this that was the clip from the film, and at the end they’re on the roof and they walk up and hug, and for some reason, it was absolutely *hilarious*.

EMERGENCY VOCABULARY

I didn’t post Words of the Week!
Unacceptable!

(Sorry they’re late!) Words of the Week:

GORBLIMEY

Gorblimey
1) Exclamation – an expression of indignation or surprise.

2) Adjective – Lower class, common.

CONGENER

Congeners (or congeners) – Noun

1) A person or thing that is the same type or in the same category as another.

2) A non-alcohol byproduct of the fermentation process.

*Today everything is paraphrased by me, because I can’t be arsed to copy/paste/cite shit right now. Yeah!

Musical Mummification

I put music on my music player…a long time ago. And I didn’t fill it with things I’m particularly *fond* of.

I filled it with things I could play for small children, because I hate children and how the fuck did I end up with two classes of *seven-year-old’s* it’s my worst fucking nightmare, why did I *ever* think that was a good idea?!?!

But I digress.

The point is: now, instead of having a playlist of things I actually, actively could stand listening to for weeks on end…I have

and (by request, as it was one of my students’ MOST FAVOURITE SONG EVER)

Naturally, I had to include all of this

AND I CANNOT MAKE ANY OF IT GO AWAY BECAUSE I HAVE NO COMPUTER ACCESS.

*Goes crazy*

A Haiku

I miss my keyboard
Typing on a mobile phone
Define: tedius.

*Seriously. It was this or another music post. I’ve got all kinds of thinky-thought type posts that will go up as soon as I get my computer situation sorted.

Until then, you get whatever I have the patience for on a phone.

Sorry kids.

Veins in Red Light

Back in the day; like, *WAAAY* back in the day, when I was practically living in the crappy little tech booth of my high school, I learned that I have really estranged hands.

This was discovered, because we had some incredibly powerful flashlights backstage, so we could find props and people while the show was going.

The’s lights were so bright, they could shine through your flesh.
People would put their hands over the light, and you could see their tendons moving as they flexed their fingers.

It was *amazing*.

This is when I learned that my hands are *weird*. Cool, but also really different from pretty much everybody else.

Tonight, I’m sitting beneath an incredibly bright red light, and I can see my veins through my skin.

I can see them move as I stretch my fingers out.

It’s beautiful.