Nov. 26th, 2016 11:49 am
fufaraw: (red umbrella snow)
OH was reading an article this morning about obsolete technology, both of us reminiscing about machines replacing mechanical devices, and upgrades, and how each incremental improvement, he said with appropriate jazz fingers, "Like magic!"

And a second later the internal soundtrack kicks in with Sting. Several minutes later, there's an alternating loop of Queen. Anybody got an upgrade for muting the internal soundtrack? (Get away from me with that Sinatra!)
fufaraw: (J2)
I just had an email sneak past my junk filter and read the heading, "dark-monkey floodgates". Then I read it again, correctly, "dark-money floodgates." Well, that's not nearly as intriguing. Junk mail it is, then!
fufaraw: (J2)
There's a residential street just off the interstate here, called Overpass Road. My contrary mind always converts it to Underpass Road, and then because of association and the rhyme to underpants gnome, to Underpants Road.

Don't look at me like that.
fufaraw: (Hostage J2)
Occasionally, I have panic dreams that leave me suddenly awake and gasping, unable to stay in bed, even in the same room. I'm pretty sure they're caused by mild and occasional apnea, because they all involve being unable to breathe. I'm submerged in water, swimming from air hole to air hole, in the dark. Or I'm in a cave, following others through increasingly narrow passages, in the dark, and what wakes me is the possibility of getting stuck. This morning it was two small children down a storm drain.

I padded into the living room in the dark and cranked the laptop and spent time on Tumblr, because honestly? Pictures helped. Reading comprehension was nil. And as my heartbeat faded back to normal and I wrapped in a toasty blanket and sipped my water, I recalled one of the most traumatic things I've ever read.

More than twenty years ago, I read Rumer Godden's In This House of Brede and quickly slipped into the world of her main character. It was at least halfway through the book, maybe more, that we learn the loss of her child motivated a drastic change of life for her. And the memory of how that loss happened chilled and fractured me then, and does, even now, when I think of it. I try very hard never to think of it.

I won't relate it here, as I'm desperately trying to stuff that memory back into its lead-lined box. If I could solder it shut, I would. It's a fictional story, it happened to fictional characters, but I think this is probably as close as I ever come to being 'triggered', since real-life stuff that happened to real-life me hasn't ever elicited a response this traumatic. It doesn't fade or soften with time. It's always horrible.

This morning I was able to go back to bed and sleep an extra hour, but I'm behind in my obligations, so I'll be offline most of today. You'll all be here, right? When I get back?


Oct. 22nd, 2014 04:09 pm
fufaraw: (J2)
So, I needed to walk the laptop across the room to show a picture to a friend. The lappie is on the cord 99% of the time because the battery life is like, 20 minutes, tops, and that's unreliable, doesn't say when, just shuts down when it's had enough. So I pop in the battery, pull the cord and stand up to walk across the room and bam! The battery falls on my instep. Well, shit. And also, OW. So I stick the battery back in, find the pic on the hard drive and show the friend, we chat about it and I go back and plug the cord in, pop the battery, and fire up the browser. Um, one tab, homepage comes up.

Where are my tabs?

Where are my fricken multiple tabs, dammit!? ("Where is my super suit!?")

So we wait, and the "Oops, would you like us to try and restore your tabs?" never comes up. So I noodle around and try and find "restore previous session," with no luck. Shit. Shitshitshit.

I smile and close the laptop and enjoy the friend's visit. As soon as she's out the door I open the laptop, shut down and boot up again...same deal, no tabs. So, last line of hope, system restore. And we wait, and we wait and ->BING!<-  Hello, my name is Erica, and I love you both. Here are your tabs.


Making a list of tab URLs right fucking now, thanks. Whew.
fufaraw: (J2)
Having watched several of the TorCon 14 vids, including one of Gil McKinney singing, I woke up this morning already earwormed with "Faithfully."

It will happily loop on replay until it's either replaced with something else, or until I go listen to Steve Perry a whole bunch of times. My brain, I swear. It's hard sometimes being locked in here with me.
fufaraw: (J2)
I love the Other Human, I do. Even when he plops in front of the teevee all day watching football.

Actually, we have a new neighbor across the street. She seems a nice person, but apparently is hard of hearing. Her television is on the opposite wall of her front room--we can see it when both sets of blinds are open, and of course the speakers face the window, and us. And she runs it ALL THE TIME when she's home, and I can hear the rumble. I've started keeping music on just to mask the murmur. It's not loud, and I feel morally inferior for failing to ignore it, but it's *there*, like dire muttering in the background, like demons are going to break through the walls and floor and enter this dimension. Sorry, But that's always bubbling away in my backbrain because *it never ever stops* as long as her car is here. I'd rather try to ignore the yappy little dog with separation anxiety down the street. So really, OH watching football all day is helping  to mask the murmurmurmurmurmumbletymurmurmurmurmurdermurdermurder...

Um. Yes. But basically, I'm just waiting til they both go to bed and I can watch the TorCon vids. Don't mind me, I'll just be over in the corner. Rocking.
fufaraw: (J2)
I have a non-adversarial view of and relationship with death. As a small child, I bought into the "normal" fear of death as taught and performed by my parents, teachers, and others, to whom I looked for direction. I must have been eight, maybe nine, when I realized it was a performance, one expected of me, and stopped doing that, stopped thinking about it, stopped expecting, simply was still and took a long, personal look at death as a concept and not a threat, a punishment, or a horrible more )


Jun. 26th, 2014 02:40 pm
fufaraw: Bobby lit match (Bobby)
Because it seemed time, I've been poking at a meta essay, dissecting, analyzing, and attempting to identify origins of my responses and reactions to things like dubcon, noncon, gender determinism, defiance vs. surrender, pigheadedness, passive aggression, and apathy. I may share some of it here, at some point. Conclusions so far? I am one kinky fucker, although my kinks do not align with those of fandom at large. I fall outside the bright lines of normal, but in a relatively uninteresting and colorless way.

Sort of like the husband teasing me about my preferred palate for bland and white food. Because really, for the most part? Life, too loud, too bright, too sharp, too fast.

Oh, who'da guessed?


fufaraw: (Default)

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