Fuck War. I'm Going Dancing.*
sentiment of my last blog would turn out to be. The last couple of days of my life have been full of dancing, both literally and figuratively, and I feel as though I have gone through an energetic One-Eighty because of it. It is amazing what you can accomplish if you let go...
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As for the entire to pursue or not to pursue thing.
Life is tenuous. Who has time for fear? The worse thing that happens is you get your ass kicked and rejected. I defer to the Brother Fred:
I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
jk.
They're a deal at that price. I think wearable art trumps hangable stuff. It's cool that your mom does this fabulous creative stuff.
Thanks for your last comment. My theory is to keep up the subtle, shameless charm and be patient while she circles in and out. She'll like it. It's tough to telegraph that she's something special to you, but not alone in that category. Above all, never doubt yourself for a second. Steady as she goes, Cap'n.
When I was a kid I was into Hulk, that's it. I'm enjoying meeting these other superheroes as Marvel rolls them out. I love the Stan Lee cameos. Hef!
Lap up les vaccances, baby. Wanna hear something strange? After freelancing for the past year, I'm about to get a real job again where I have to be up on time and go somewhere in the morning with, you know, more than slippers and a ratty bathrobe on, and I'm craving it like I once did a vacation. Now that feeling may last only a week, but I think I'll have the perspective with me always. I have and will work with some great characters, and in the end it's such people who shape our lives. Hum, I like that and think I'll post it. I've not ever felt that way about my alma mater, so school's gotta be the exception. And then there's the CA bar -- my freakin' brilliant cousin's on his second go-'round. Sheesh. Hat's off to you.
Anyway, I am operating on a lot less sleep than I am used to, and I still have...
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Good luck with HER. Women make flakes out of us all.
embrace chaos
Luck brother.
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothin' to do and no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go....
Just put me in a...
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Clearly, I don't know Goldfrapp.
And nothing comforts me the same
As my brave friend who says,
"I don't care if forever never comes
'Cause I'm holding out for that teenage feeling
I'm holding out for that teenage feeling"
Not much else to say at this point. Back to work for me.
I'll drink to that.
Grin.
Thanks.
We'll have that conversation.
> Hanging with some of the better folk at my law school, and surviving a birthday meal @ caf gratitude in the mission.
> Meeting her family, and getting a little culture in during the process.
> Hanging out with one of my best friends from college who I haven't seen in a couple of years.
> Figuring out...
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Oh, in answer to your question: GURPS, BESM, D&D 3.whatever, and the occasional indie game system that friends convince me to try.
After helping me with my laptop, and handing me my beverage.
Favorite (and cute) Barista*: What is your name by the way?
Me: X
FCB: Oh, that will be easy for me to remember, X is my former DM's name. Although I he quit, and we have a new one now.
Me: Did you just say DM? As in...
FCB:...
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You did read that last night, and subsequently deleted it on a paranoid jag after reading about how Mr. Spitzer's call girl "Kristin" had her life filleted by the media fueled with her online information. Whatever.
Okay, so you rank Japanese after French, too -- good. My Japanese friends speak English and French, so there's the triumverate. I like the idea of a Scandinavian language. When I hear/read them they seem so close to English in some ways, like, an additional step removed from pig-latin.
The TypeMatrix Dvorak keyboard -- note that finger movements are drastically reduced, movements become more natural (fewer keys found on diagonal paths), and the world speed record was set using one. On the Bonneville Salt Flats. (JK)
So, your comment made me think. Speaking another language does unique things for your sense of self: first, you feel like you've cloned yourself; second, you become more heroic because not only can you access another culture but its natives generally respond enthusiastically because you've done all the work to build a bridge to their curiosity (even in France where everyone speake a leetole eengleesh but few speak it well enough for their comfort); third, it creates a new galaxy of the ideas we associate with words -- new worlds of nuance and connotation that enhances your own perceptions because you gain new tools to hold ideas and think about things; fourth, something I can't define well, but it makes you more objective of the human condition; and fifth, it makes you feel SO damn urbane, Rico Suave Citizen of the World (perhaps a justified conceit). As your comment about your Norvege friend suggests to me and evoking the competitive thread in our nature, speaking someone's tongue better than they speak yours is sublime one-upsmanship. Seriously.
Oh, and then there's the fun of eavesdropping on unguarded supermarket conversations between people who assume Americans won't understand.
Finally, subtitles suck.
by Sara Teasdale
To-night I close my eyes and see
A strange procession passing me --
The years before I saw your face
Go by me with a wistful grace;
They pass, the sensitive, shy years,
As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.
The years went by and never knew
That each one brought me nearer you;
Their path was narrow and apart
And yet it led me to your heart --
Oh, sensitive, shy years, oh, lonely years,
That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.
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Glad you have some joy!