No matter how much other people don’t believe it, you are perfectly capable of being a selfish, whining, and insecure twit.
Sometimes people have more important things going on in their lives and can’t just instantly attend to you when you want. This doesn’t mean you aren’t important.
Your insecurities are largely in your own mind, and rarely borne out in reality.
When you know you’re being insecure and impatient, listen to yourself and stop fretting over it.
Repeat as necessary.
For the person who has everything (and a weird sense of humour):
No, really…
EDIT (10/05/2005): The page above has gone away, but it can be found via The Wayback Machine.
I don’t normally remember my dreams, but this one was bizarre enough to stick in my head, and I’m still not sure what it means.
I was working in a library, shelving books and listening to NPR radio. They were doing a report on a new event being considered for the summer Olympics. I forget what they called it, but it was apparently developed in Cuba, and was described as a summer counterpart to the two man luge, except instead of a two man sled, it was a two-seater swing (like a playground swingset with the bucket seats for small children, except this one had another “bucket” immediately behind it.)
I have no idea how this competition would be scored, and even the reporter conducting the interview seemed at a loss. “What exactly is the point of this?” he asked one official.
Anyway, apparently nobody really wanted this to be an Olympic sport except the Ukraine, who were the only country who were any good at it.
I have no idea what this means.
I thought about writing a short rant about this myself, but John Scalzi has pretty much already said everything that needs to be said about Fred Phelps latest headline grab attempt.
I wish I could say it surprises me, but it doesn’t. Phelps and his venemous ilk are such frothing pinheads that even other homophobic religious zealots recognize he gives them a bad name. I really wish I could understand how people managed to take a religion supposedly founded on the idea of love and corrupted and perverted it so foully.
Well, the poll seems to have run out of steam, so here’s all that was left. If anyone still wants to leave a question that hasn’t by now, I’ll be checking in on it a couple of more times over the next few days, and if nothing comes in, I’ll call it a wrap. 🙂
filkerdave: Oh, that’s easy. It was at OVFF 2001, but possibly not what you imagine. I had been walking around all weekend in a bit of a daze, mostly because I was coming to grips with the fact that I was actually happy for the first time in so long I didn’t recognize the sensation at first. It was rapidly becoming clear to me that my decision to end the relationship I was in was the right one, though I still had some lingering doubts.
The singular moment, though, was listening to Erica Neely sing her gyspy song, which contained the line “I might survive the loss of you, but not the loss of me.” At that moment, everything crystallized around that one phrase, and I knew that my decision WAS the right one, and the risk I was taking if I didn’t execute it.
There was a certain kiss in a certain back hallway the next day that was pretty momentous too, though. 🙂
rectangularcat: I don’t know. Sense is rarely profound, and most of the time, that’s what I try to impart in advice to people.
keristor African or European?
(linked via randomrants, who is still entirely cool even if she and I live in the same town and still manage to never see each other anymore *G*):
a person my life has always been made richer by knowing.
Love you, telynor. Hope your day is wonderful!
I lie on my back
and look up at the sky
a pale blue expanse with
scattered white clouds
like drifting banks of snow
or perhaps crumpled linen
waiting for the wash
and I wonder
how the sky is where you are
and if you are lying on your back
and thinking of me
It’s not April 1, it’s in a usually reliable tech news source.
Um, I’m at a loss. Make your own joke:
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