As the French say, "fwoogh."
How might one replicate the size, shape, weight, and feel of an OB tampon, while managing to make it more durable? What sort of material might one make it out of? My cat enjoys all of his toys, but none more so than when he manages to get his fiendish little mitts on one of my tampons. The downside of this system is that a) they're expensive, so b) when he rips off half of the plastic, and c) then drops it in the toilet, leaving it there like a half-bloated carcass, I d) get ticked off. I don't mind people seeing my tampons skittering willy-nilly across the floor, as it is hilarious, but I am too poor to keep losing tampons to the cat entertainment cause. Your thoughts would be much appreciated!
I think I'm coming to an end with bandom, and with fandom more generally. No, I will not be deleting my journal, because that is a pants thing to do. I might be winnowing my friendslist, however, should I ever grow an actual backbone. I should also figure out some sort of non-academia-related hobby, shouldn't I? Maybe I'll just find a ridiculously obscure fandom. I was contemplating writing Dark Days slash the other day. That might be the ticket. (And yes, violin-road, I will also pursue writing you ridiculous Mormon porn.)
[Note: this is not an official statement of departure. Nothing I ever say is official. I am still writing a long Travis story, for example.]
I brought T, der Boydirndl, up to New York City to meet a bunch of people who are very important to me. While he was there, he managed to roll with an involved discussion of bad fanfiction (complete with reenactments) and correctly used the word "heteronormative" in a sentence. I was very smug. As a due and just punishment for dragging him out there, I have to participate in a role-playing game at the end of the month. My character will most likely die, whoops oh well.
This morning, I got the seat right by the conductor's booth on the subway. This is always my goal, and it brightens my day when I'm able to do it. In this seat, I can see the conductor manipulating the throttle and fiddling with the switches, and I can see the track ahead of us, all dark and gloomy. Today one of my favorite conductors was driving the train, so I stopped by the booth when I got off the train and had a little conversation with him. He told me that he's been working for public transportation for "a while now," but he's been "down in the hole" (driving the subway train) for thirty-five years. Thirty-five years!
The encounter was improved even more when I managed to get out a complimentary reply ("Oh! No wonder you're so good at it!") without sounding stilted and awkward. He seemed charmed by the brief interaction, too. It made me feel much better about the day; this is good, since I arrived at school at 9am and plan to be here, studying, until at least 5pm.
I think I'm coming to an end with bandom, and with fandom more generally. No, I will not be deleting my journal, because that is a pants thing to do. I might be winnowing my friendslist, however, should I ever grow an actual backbone. I should also figure out some sort of non-academia-related hobby, shouldn't I? Maybe I'll just find a ridiculously obscure fandom. I was contemplating writing Dark Days slash the other day. That might be the ticket. (And yes, violin-road, I will also pursue writing you ridiculous Mormon porn.)
[Note: this is not an official statement of departure. Nothing I ever say is official. I am still writing a long Travis story, for example.]
I brought T, der Boydirndl, up to New York City to meet a bunch of people who are very important to me. While he was there, he managed to roll with an involved discussion of bad fanfiction (complete with reenactments) and correctly used the word "heteronormative" in a sentence. I was very smug. As a due and just punishment for dragging him out there, I have to participate in a role-playing game at the end of the month. My character will most likely die, whoops oh well.
This morning, I got the seat right by the conductor's booth on the subway. This is always my goal, and it brightens my day when I'm able to do it. In this seat, I can see the conductor manipulating the throttle and fiddling with the switches, and I can see the track ahead of us, all dark and gloomy. Today one of my favorite conductors was driving the train, so I stopped by the booth when I got off the train and had a little conversation with him. He told me that he's been working for public transportation for "a while now," but he's been "down in the hole" (driving the subway train) for thirty-five years. Thirty-five years!
The encounter was improved even more when I managed to get out a complimentary reply ("Oh! No wonder you're so good at it!") without sounding stilted and awkward. He seemed charmed by the brief interaction, too. It made me feel much better about the day; this is good, since I arrived at school at 9am and plan to be here, studying, until at least 5pm.