(no subject)

I sighed as I came in the door. "No short-term memory." I said.
"Why?" asked inlandsea, brandishing a spiked device for administering catnip.
"I tried to unlock the deadbolt. Even though I hadn't locked it. Thirty seconds ago when I went out the door."
"Did you notice that I unlocked the handle, too?"
Pause. "No." I said. She laughed.
It's a very useful brain for many things. Really.

I like, when I have the time, to get up in the morning, make my cup of coffee (or, today, tea) and read over LiveJournal the way you might read the morning paper.

I think I'll be clever and put the CBC on as well. Then I can get the news through one sensory modality and the commentary through another.

Leirdal phoned last night while I was online to say that they were discussing Beefcake on the radio, and I missed it. Sad.

She also told me that Don McKellar has written a musical! It is nominated for every Tony there ever was! I feel almost betrayed that he didn't call me to tell me about it personally. There aren't that many people in this country.

( Cut for gratuitous discussion of breakfast. )

There are two LiveJournal phenomena I'd like to write essays about--the Art of the Usericon, as I've mentioned, and blogging as genre. I feel a little underqualified, though. I've been lj-ing for more than two years, but I don't know that I understand it very well as a shared cognitive space.

It occurs to me that I could do some research. And drink some more tea.

{rf}

my scars are turning one!

In fifteen days it will be the first anniversary of my top surgery.

( What I like most was that I wasn't afraid. )

( Footnotes )

Anyway. Party at the Station. June Third. It's a Saturday. But what shall it be? Suggestions! Not mock posh, though. It's not that kind of gig.

I half want to arrange a trip to Vancouver to re-enact our journey. Sans surgery and raccoon, obviously.

Oh. Yes. The raccoon. Would everyone who was present for the raccoon story please email me their versions of it, and I'll post an amalgamation? I'll ladder excerpts next to each other so they set each other off. Come! Collaborate with me! Let me suture your words together with love and narrative drive.

Now I want some peanut butter toast.

{rf}

I was going to post some of my research on LJ-as-a-genre, but Explorer felt I had too many windows open and crashed. So instead you get the personal essay. La la la lucky us.