"At Least You'll Have Tangoed At All..."
In other news, this is rather quite brilliant.
2004-11-23
"That's the Game Here--And the Name is Facade!"
Soujin: Hi, Post Office Lady! I've got letters!
Post Office Lady: Great! Just on time.
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: OMG, you walk BY YOURSELF to go to the POST OFFICE???
Soujin: Um, yes.
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: But someone might KILL YOU.
Soujin: Um, well--
Post Office Lady: But she fences, so it's okay!
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: Yeah, but she hasn't got a sword with her now, does she?
Post Office Lady: She might have one under her coat. You never know.
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: Hey, she might! *lunges at Soujin*
Soujin: OMG! *jumps a million feet backwards*
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: HA HA HA! You know, this is just like at work! This guy said, "I need a psychiatrist!" and I said, "I'll give you the name of my psychiatrist!" and he said, "No way! Yours doesn't help!" HA HA!
Soujin: Byye! *runs away*
>_>
It was a nice walk, though, overall. Didn't meet anyone else the entire time, and it was cool enough that I didn't need to take off my coat, but warm enough that my knees weren't cold (I wear shorts until about mid-December, generally).
Post Office Lady: Great! Just on time.
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: OMG, you walk BY YOURSELF to go to the POST OFFICE???
Soujin: Um, yes.
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: But someone might KILL YOU.
Soujin: Um, well--
Post Office Lady: But she fences, so it's okay!
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: Yeah, but she hasn't got a sword with her now, does she?
Post Office Lady: She might have one under her coat. You never know.
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: Hey, she might! *lunges at Soujin*
Soujin: OMG! *jumps a million feet backwards*
Random Insane Person in the Post Office: HA HA HA! You know, this is just like at work! This guy said, "I need a psychiatrist!" and I said, "I'll give you the name of my psychiatrist!" and he said, "No way! Yours doesn't help!" HA HA!
Soujin: Byye! *runs away*
>_>
It was a nice walk, though, overall. Didn't meet anyone else the entire time, and it was cool enough that I didn't need to take off my coat, but warm enough that my knees weren't cold (I wear shorts until about mid-December, generally).
"Momma, Hey Momma, Come Looking For Me..."
Shiny meme! Stolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rimusu:
The avatar is like a Rorschach inkblot, or the Draw-a-House/Person/Tree Test, or any work of art. It is selected from personal imagination. Consciously or unconsciously, people condense a multitude of meaning into it. They project their personality into it - who they are, who they wish to be, what they fear, what moves them.
Choose one of your icons, and post it up in your journal. Then ask people to comment with the first thing that comes to mind when they see that icon -- whether it's associated with the image, the text, or with the identity/mood they project on you when you're using it, whatever. Free association. See if anything fits.
My pretty!
Also, stolen from many severals:
1. Reply to this post if you want me to tell you how cool you are!
2. Watch my journal over the next few days for a post just about you and why I think you rock my socks.
3. Post these instructions in your journal and give your friends a much needed dose of love and adoration!
I imagine I should stop meme-ing so much... it's v. addictive. Not good.
rimusu:The avatar is like a Rorschach inkblot, or the Draw-a-House/Person/Tree Test, or any work of art. It is selected from personal imagination. Consciously or unconsciously, people condense a multitude of meaning into it. They project their personality into it - who they are, who they wish to be, what they fear, what moves them.
Choose one of your icons, and post it up in your journal. Then ask people to comment with the first thing that comes to mind when they see that icon -- whether it's associated with the image, the text, or with the identity/mood they project on you when you're using it, whatever. Free association. See if anything fits.
My pretty!Also, stolen from many severals:
1. Reply to this post if you want me to tell you how cool you are!
2. Watch my journal over the next few days for a post just about you and why I think you rock my socks.
3. Post these instructions in your journal and give your friends a much needed dose of love and adoration!
I imagine I should stop meme-ing so much... it's v. addictive. Not good.
"How the Devil Can I Ever Prevail When I'm Only a Man?"
O-kay! So!
Thanksgiving is in exactly twenty-four hours and seven minutes, as far as my clock is concerned (this should make it somewhat evident the extent to which I can get distracted. >_> But). As soon as Thanksgiving is over, permission is automatically granted by all Powers That Be--be they monotheism powers, pagan powers, wiccan powers, polytheism powers, &c--permission is granted that we all get out Christmas soundtracks and albums from whatever dusty place they have been lurking in and
DECK THE HALL WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY!!! &c.
But in the household of Soujin, this is not to be so. You see, long ago, in the household of Soujin, Soujin herself was made a present of the Original Broadway Cast Recording of You-Know-What, and Soujin herself has a very bad habit of automatically relating any music for-ever and always to the time she heard it the result of this convoluted set of affairs and unwieldy sentence being--
My Christmas music is Lovely Ladies. For real. We will honest-to-God (Buddha, Zeus, &c) decorate our Christmas tree while listening to Master of the House and Look Down. We will make Christmas cookies while Attack on Rue Plumet is playing. We will sit down in front of a roaring fire and read Charles Dickens' Christmas Story Whose Title I Have Randomly Forgotten, and da's voice will be pleasantly set off by, in the background, Colm Wilkinson's funky accent warbling out Bring Him Home.
And then about two days from the Grand Event itself, Mum will announce that we are DEAD MEAT unless we put Emily Mitchell's Christmas Carols on the Harp on RIGHT THIS MINUTE! So we will.
But it will not be true Christmas music. The only True Sweet Strains of Christmas are Les Miserables.
All this generally just means that I need to find my OBC. Time for a major room search!
And now it's 00:04. I must go to bed.
Thanksgiving is in exactly twenty-four hours and seven minutes, as far as my clock is concerned (this should make it somewhat evident the extent to which I can get distracted. >_> But). As soon as Thanksgiving is over, permission is automatically granted by all Powers That Be--be they monotheism powers, pagan powers, wiccan powers, polytheism powers, &c--permission is granted that we all get out Christmas soundtracks and albums from whatever dusty place they have been lurking in and
DECK THE HALL WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY!!! &c.
But in the household of Soujin, this is not to be so. You see, long ago, in the household of Soujin, Soujin herself was made a present of the Original Broadway Cast Recording of You-Know-What, and Soujin herself has a very bad habit of automatically relating any music for-ever and always to the time she heard it the result of this convoluted set of affairs and unwieldy sentence being--
My Christmas music is Lovely Ladies. For real. We will honest-to-God (Buddha, Zeus, &c) decorate our Christmas tree while listening to Master of the House and Look Down. We will make Christmas cookies while Attack on Rue Plumet is playing. We will sit down in front of a roaring fire and read Charles Dickens' Christmas Story Whose Title I Have Randomly Forgotten, and da's voice will be pleasantly set off by, in the background, Colm Wilkinson's funky accent warbling out Bring Him Home.
And then about two days from the Grand Event itself, Mum will announce that we are DEAD MEAT unless we put Emily Mitchell's Christmas Carols on the Harp on RIGHT THIS MINUTE! So we will.
But it will not be true Christmas music. The only True Sweet Strains of Christmas are Les Miserables.
All this generally just means that I need to find my OBC. Time for a major room search!
And now it's 00:04. I must go to bed.