Cusps

I can't decide whether I prefer sunrises or sunsets. Both are not uncommon, given my schedule, and I have seen stellar examples of both, recently. I feel as though I'm not able to render a fair judgement, tainted as they both are by the flavor of the day I've had/am about to be having. I envision some sort of scientific experiment in which my circadian rhythms are toyed with to the point I can't determine AM or PM. Then, control in hand, I can see which are the superior liminal moments. Borders and the snail on the edge of the straight razor.

I'm doing it, I'm naming and dancing and rising to meet the road. I'm better, lately, though not like I'd expected. I lead a charmed life (in every way except the one that matters) but I've suffered so many misfortunes lately that it feels like a vacation, a fine distraction from the problems that fill my head. Reality intruding on the story I tell myself. I'm rambling. That's fine.

By misfortune, I mean genuine happenstance, real random shenanigans. The composition of my continuum (vacuum, menstruum, duumvirate. You're welcome) is failing, but not because of me or mine, and that strikes me as close to fate/luck/fortune-mis as I get lately. I'm (also) not above believing that I'm burning it, spending my goodwill in the eyes of Urd, Skuld, and Verthandi, to compensate for previous point expenditures. XP, my friends, God's XP. We all dole it out, sometimes. I do feel like I have a surfeit of Grace.

They tried and failed?

Convictions

So I'm suffering from a dearth of narrative. As opposed to the other, which is reality, which is me being all fucking dualist and symmetrical, which bugs the shit out of me. C'est la guerre.

And stairs, and the spirit of. I'm inclined to change my deed name (I can do that) but I'm holding off. Been all gypsy-curse around here lately, as all things mechanical (Mccainical) are failing around and about. My bike, long suffering, over-used and under-repaired, finally made its way to the bike kitchen 'round the corner, and I spent the most productive hour-and-a-half of my recent life fixing no fewer than four different things that I have wanted to be fixed forever.

Then, the next day, I tore the left crank off. Like, tore-ripped the metal. Crap. Gonna try for fixing that tomorrow.

On the plus side, game's been epic. New players (nine, at the moment) and regular Sabbath Storytelling that, while not strictly Biblical, deserves capitalization.

SO...there's that, informative, relevant. Pertinent and punctual. That's what you get. Also this. AND...

SORRY-Links

Biden's it-VP. I am thrilled. Also, this is good.

I love the New York Times

Really.

Karass

There are hummingbirds in my yard. And they are at war.

Appliances

First of a trio of busy days, and it went off like three hitches. It may surprise you (it may not) but I know so many magical, marvelous motherfuckers. You all are my barometers sometimes, and right now, I'm tremendously sure of my own value.

Thanks, and see you anon.

Peaks and Troughs

I have mine, and yours, and some that I think belong to the unborn. I'm still here, still making my way. Well worn and worn out. Long day, but shorter than it might have been.

Sometimes I'm seized by the urge to blog, but other times (like now) I just feel a certain obligation just to keep it current. More than a week seems like too little, and as I prune and gather and cultivate my IRL relationships, so too must I keep this window open on those of you who dwell (for me) in the great white waste marketing (and market research) tells us is cyberspace.

Reading Moby Dick again, loving it more and more. The first book I've taken a deciliter (that's what spellcheck wants "highlighter" to be) to bed for. Taking stock of my neighbors lately, as I've suddenly acquired a handful of marvelous people to live next to, and I want to treasure it while it lasts. I come home to no fewer than 4 or 5 people who are glad to see me, and that's fucking fantastic. I highly recommend it-it's like living in a dorm...except they're all adults, which is orders of magnitude better.

Failures of mechanics lately. Broken bike, kaput phone, broken comp (as I write this, I think my hard drive is failing. This is very, very bad, those of you not-nerds), but prospects for their eventual repair loom large on my hungry horizon. Dunsany'd say I invoked a Yozi, but I'll remind you all, they're neverborn.

I am the fine hammered steel of woe.