far from the roar of the sun
As I'm sure you've all heard eleventy million times by now, LJ is going down at around 11am EST, allegedly for four hours (though I am willing to bet that is a very optimistic estimate), so they can move their servers.
I backed up my LJ this morning (using LJArchive), so I'll have a copy of every post but this one, should the worst happen and all the data gets lost. (Well, technically, I'll have a copy of this one at IJ, so.)
I've been living an LJ-light existence for a while now. I have limited access now at work, which means I've been acclimating myself and while I am here, it won't be as huge a deal as it once might have been. I still have all the food blogs on my google reader, after all. *snerk*
And there is also that thing known as writing (I do have this thing I want to write, but I can't figure out how to start), or even, possibly, *gasp* work. Hopefully it won't come to that, though.
You can always come see me on IJ, but if not, see you on the flip side.
***
I went to bed early last night - 10:15! - and I woke up every two hours like clockwork. Sigh. At least it was early enough that that didn't really matter too much, but still! I wanted a good night's sleep. And then this morning, there were HUGE amounts of traffic and I was twenty minutes late to work. Given that the traffic was due to a shitload of construction, I suppose I am going to have to start getting up and leaving the house even earlier. Fuckers.
***
Have a poem:
Silence
There is the sudden silence of the crowd
above a player not moving on the field,
and the silence of the orchid.
The silence of the falling vase
before it strikes the floor,
the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.
The stillness of the cup and the water in it,
the silence of the moon
and the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.
The silence when I hold you to my chest,
the silence of the window above us,
and the silence when you rise and turn away.
And there is the silence of this morning
which I have broken with my pen,
a silence that had piled up all night
like snow falling in the darkness of the house-
the silence before I wrote a word
and the poorer silence now.
~Billy Collins
***
I backed up my LJ this morning (using LJArchive), so I'll have a copy of every post but this one, should the worst happen and all the data gets lost. (Well, technically, I'll have a copy of this one at IJ, so.)
I've been living an LJ-light existence for a while now. I have limited access now at work, which means I've been acclimating myself and while I am here, it won't be as huge a deal as it once might have been. I still have all the food blogs on my google reader, after all. *snerk*
And there is also that thing known as writing (I do have this thing I want to write, but I can't figure out how to start), or even, possibly, *gasp* work. Hopefully it won't come to that, though.
You can always come see me on IJ, but if not, see you on the flip side.
***
I went to bed early last night - 10:15! - and I woke up every two hours like clockwork. Sigh. At least it was early enough that that didn't really matter too much, but still! I wanted a good night's sleep. And then this morning, there were HUGE amounts of traffic and I was twenty minutes late to work. Given that the traffic was due to a shitload of construction, I suppose I am going to have to start getting up and leaving the house even earlier. Fuckers.
***
Have a poem:
Silence
There is the sudden silence of the crowd
above a player not moving on the field,
and the silence of the orchid.
The silence of the falling vase
before it strikes the floor,
the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.
The stillness of the cup and the water in it,
the silence of the moon
and the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.
The silence when I hold you to my chest,
the silence of the window above us,
and the silence when you rise and turn away.
And there is the silence of this morning
which I have broken with my pen,
a silence that had piled up all night
like snow falling in the darkness of the house-
the silence before I wrote a word
and the poorer silence now.
~Billy Collins
***