distinctivecat

Is it possible to love something--in this case, Suicide Girls, the site, the social network, the community, whatever--without feeling the need to ask a few questions? I don't know. I feel like the scorpion on the turtle's back--here I am getting what I want, and still I feel a sting coming on.

I've noticed that what I like about this place has evolved. I started...
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Happy Birthday, I guess. Love Sister.


Scene: Morning. Kitchen. Baby in my lap, eating my breakfast. Wife pouring coffee, talking on the phone.
Wife: Aww.. (Long pause) Aww. (Long pause) ...Oh, thank you. That's so moving.

It's wife's birthday today. Her sister's on the phone; they're an emotional family.

Wife: Aww. (More pauses, wife cleans, starts doing stuff on the computer) Aww... Hey, are you...
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My wife got a call from another mother who wants to go out for coffee. The other mother's nice. She's not pretty but she's always unbelievably sweet. Sometimes it seems like she's being so nice to compensate for her plainness. Every once in a while, this woman will show a flash of interesting resentment out of nowhere (like the time all the other mothers at...
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Ratio of posts to deadlines: high.

The sets here are great, the reason to be here, and so on. But look, there's a lot of that sort of stuff flooding the inboxes at multiple email addresses. The thing that separates SG, that makes it a peak time-waster playpen for me, is all the rest of the stuff. The blogs and the crazy candids from nights...
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I've got so much to do now, but I once again find myself back on SG, exploring the personalities--the perils of working at home. I suppose I'm starting this journal because it's a requirement to get into so many groups--it's certainly not because I think I have anything inherently valuable to add, or anything useful to gain. I like the people here, and the funny...
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