Thirty six years ago today, one of my favorite BOFH's was born. Baby, I've seen some pretty huge dicks in my life, seen some pretty pretty ones, too. But you are one of the sexiest pricks I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. -grin-

I will forever see your smiling face, three seconds after you deleted the rootpass only to replace it with... discoveranalmystery.

You, me, the boy. This weekend. I'm DD'ing. I'm going to get you both sloppy drunk and take merciless advantage of your prowess. The three of us will smurf NASA and play Quake 3 in the auditorium. With the lights off. At three AM!

Good times, honey. Good times.

This will just have to tide you over until then. Happy birthday, asshole. I love you.

So I am seriously considering Lhasa in June. I haven't decided on the route yet, whether to go through Beijing, Hong Kong, or maybe Chengdu. I'd probably choose Kathmandu if I could, but as it is this is going to cost me almost 5K.

It was Lhasa or Jordan and everyone looks at me like a freak when I tell them I'm going alone. My parents are acting like I'd never come back from either. I mean, c'mon, it's Tibet! The scariest thing I'll have to deal with in Tibet will be a rogue yak (or hemorrhaging to death from the altitude)! But I really want to be here and here.

It'll be my pilgrimage.

What do you think?

Today I walked out of 'Foundations in Business' right into a girl... sobbing. I'm not even kidding. It was like a car crash on the quad, me looking down, blinking into the winter-sun. I grabbed a hold of her, trying to keep us both steady on our feet, and it was a long time until I figured out that her tears weren't from the collision but something else.

"Hey, darlin'," I said, hand still on her hip. "What's the trouble?"

Turns out, all the effort and research she spent on her thesis was for naught... completely dismissed by the department even after they'd signed off on the project. I can't believe - in this day and age - things like this still happen. So I took her to Murphy's. We had green beer (unofficial St. Patty's Day, RAH!) and grilled chicken and I tried my best to soothe her doubts. It's amazing to me, how callous this circuit can be.

I'll be cheesy for a second and tell you all that I reminded her today's a free-day. Anything that happens today can so obviously be undone. It's not the truth, but at least it made her laugh.

Here's to free days, to green-beer, to being alive and still with it... to enjoying life, despite the downfalls. Cheers.

Sometimes... love takes me by surprise. Winds me. Makes it so I can't breathe.

Last night, three miles into my run, it started raining. Sheets of sleet, slanting sideways, pelting against my face. What can you expect in December?

I'm soaked through, and who should appear, headlights slicing through the freezing rain? My husband.

Sometimes... I forget how simple love can be. How I deserve this.

I am forgetful, what can I say?

I've never been much for resolutions, but I've always been kinda partial to goals. None of these will be especially interesting to anyone, but I'd kind of like to have them here just the same so I can update them and use 'em to kick my own ass as the year progresses. -smiling-

Goals for 2008
- Run/Walk 200 miles
Completed as of 4/08: 42.5/200
- Climb 20,000 stairs (counting only ups)
Completed as of 4/08: 3800/20000
- Finish the 100 books project I started mid-2007
- Stay in three cities I've never been to before
- Take Sara on another trip
- Chicago in November
- Write at least two original pieces
- Try to find at least three new charities I'm not already involved in
- Resign seat on ZBA
- Give yoga or Pilates a concentrated effort
- Theory of a Deadman - Live!
- Three Days Grace, Breaking Benjamin & Seether in February
- Get my ass back in class
- "365 Days In My Year"

More to come...

So instead of getting into how awesome and incredible last night was, 'cause lemme tell ya, it was both awesome and incredible (incredibly fucking awesome), allow me to tell you what a whore I am for ... tapas.

I had the most amazing food last night. Sun-dried tomato coulee and this sinful-to-die-for green olive tampenade with garlic brushed crostini, and fresh, creamy Havarti, grape leaves stuffed with feta and black olive salad, cajun hummus (I'm not big on the chick-pea, but this was unreal!), oven-roasted shitake with gorgonzola and chile oil, artichoke dip! etc. etc. It was so good I think I may have found tapas-Nirvana.

Tonight I made baby red potatoes with chives and fresh dill. It's okay, don't hate. I made enough for everyone, so you can all come over and enjoy it too. Man, I could never give up meat, I enjoy steak way too much, but there are plenty of days I'm happy not eating it.

In case you missed it, last night? Was incredible. -grin- I'll miss you both.

Once, when I was seriously sick, living a little more than a hundred miles away from my then boyfriend, him without a car, he bought a bus ticket in a seedy little neighborhood at 3 AM, rode the hour and fifteen minute bus-ride standing because they'd overbooked, walked five miles from the station to my apartment, and stopped off at a grocery store along the way just so he could bring me Chicken & Stars.

Today, he brought me Chicken Gumbo from the place downstairs, less than a block away, no bus-ride involved, but it was still just as much of a surprise.

The one person that knows me best in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD just said this song reminds her of me:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=dpT8-J3xGMc

And there's not a single word that doesn't completely and totally flatter me.

( ♫ lyrics ♫ )

There's nobody I'd rather belong to. ♥

His mouth hung open, blue-grey smoke twisting between the slit, cigarette caught in the pinch of his thumb. The guitar sat comfortably in his lap, shoulders hunched to tighten strings. He held it with reverence, thumb stroking idly at the wood. Somewhere in the grain ventured sleepy absolution.

I sat close. Close, but far away. On the periphery of every margin. Tucked safe to watch, to listen, just to see the soft tilt of his mouth working wet against the filter. Baby-fine and gentle; mic a thief to trap each rasping breath. And from so close, so far, my fingers burned to grace his pulse. Nothing more. No other license offered except his beat. Strong, caged life harbored beneath muscle, vein, and skin.

Quiet, legs crossed, hands captured over knee, I shut my eyes and waited for the first whiskey stroke of his voice, gravel-rough, cavern-deep. To

touch
touch
touch
touch
touch me everywhere. The shiver-shock whispering. Mushroom-blossom passion ghosting over bone.

Then he started to sing. Savage-sweet, mellow-smooth. Drunk on it. On life. On love. The boundless proximal... energy. Veteran fingertips fathering a background lower than his voice. The two soldiering the onus of lights and stage, severed from the crowd.

He finished. To an audience wail. Sweat damp hair, eyes like sea-stone. Beautiful, tumultuous coldness. And I considered. For one concentrated second, I considered. Becoming all the things I abhor. Becoming, for pleasure’s sake, the Aphrodite. Lullable siren in the zero hour.

To feel breath and voice and body. Soft, angry, hard. I considered.

And still... I left the room with nothing but the smoke and sound.

Dear Livejournal,

Sex. No, seriously. Sex. Sexsexsexsexsex. Motherfuckin' sex. Lots of it. I've had sex in some pretty amazing places. With guys. With girls. Sex on the floor, sex on the beach, sex up against the wall. Sex high, sex down low, fucking my brains out when yes and no might have been two very similar things. Naked, hot and sweaty, screwing one another until names have been forgotten sex.

And if I had a brother, a cute, older, or hey, maybe barely even legal brother, with fine abs and an ass that wouldn't stop, hell, I might have even banged him, too. I'm not ashamed.

Sex. Consensual and implied. Sex in person or not. Over the phone sex, over the internet sex, in both the front and backseats of cars sex! Sex with people of power or in positions of authority. Sex when we probably should have known better. Sex in bathrooms, in busy clubs, on couches covered in baddirtywrong fluids, the less said the better!

So yeah, Livejournal. Sex! Inappropriate, nasty, sometimes immoral, with more than one partner, someone's tongue in my ass, my finger in theirs, with my stockings STILL ON SEX. Because being inappropriate is my god-damned RIGHT sex. Because knowing the difference between reality and fantasy makes the rest of us smarter than you SEX. Because I’d probably fuck you with a dildo for being such stupid cocksucking dickheads about this SEX. Because now you’ve gone and offended me sex.

So yeah. Sex, Livejournal. SEX.