(no subject)

So remember like, a week and a half ago, when I stepped on broken glass? Mum had dropped a glass in the kitchen and swept it up, but I'd forgotten and gone in to cook somethingorother in bare feet. So, yes, stepped on broken glass and shredded my foot up a bit, but it was mostly nonbleeding cuts (my feet are really callused around the heels) and I swore that I'd gotten all the glass out, especially since two days later my foot basically didn't hurt at all.

Just now I walked out onto the tile outside my bedroom and OW.

Big gaping bloody hole in my foot! With a quarter-inch tooth of glass protruding from it. Apparently it's been in there the whole time and just now worked its way up against a nerve. And I know it's not fresh because after I removed the glass shard, all kinds of good bodily healing fluids of various shades came out.

Ow ow ow ow ow.

On the positive side, I'm going to DC to attend BookExpo in May and then onwards to an arts festival at which I will sell masks. The tickets IS BOUGHTEN. Well, part of them anyway. The initial leg of the whole trip is still being negotiated.

Now I just need to convince Bernard to let me turn our shared bathroom into a workshop again. But I will, because HE OWES ME for not ramming him into a wall. :D

And now back to birthday festivities.

Commentary post-hack: Two years later, in December of 2007, Bernard in fact rammed ME into a wall. Prescience? You be the judge!

(no subject)

I got a Colourgenics Profile. It was a trip.

The deepest irony is that I went through and corrected the redundancies and grammar of my profile before I posted it.

You are a very sensitive person and you try hard (perhaps a little too hard) to make favourable impressions and to be recognised by your peers. But you have that inherent need to feel appreciated and you are easily hurt if all of your endeavours go by unappreciated or not acknowledged. Stop trying so hard.

You are totally dissatisfied with your present situation. Matters are not going right for you and you are seeking a means of escape. Your mental state necessitates that you change your thinking patterns. Remember, if one particular modus operandi doesn't seem to work, then try something different. You honestly believe that your hopes and ideas are realistic, but there seems to be no one around to give you the necessary reassurance and encouragement. [This is only half true. I do have reassurance and encouragement. Thank god.]

The tension that you are experiencing at this time is perhaps due to physical and/or mental frustration. It would appear that you are not appreciated and as a consequence, the situation is most disagreeable. [True in my home life, though not my online life] You seek personal recognition and the appreciation of others to compensate for the lack of like minded people with whom to ally yourself. You would like to surrender and merge with others but your inherent self-restraint makes it difficult for you to open up. This disturbs you as you regard such instincts as weaknesses to be overcome. You want to be liked, admired and appreciated for yourself.

You need to be respected as an exceptional individual. This is the only way that you can hope to achieve the status that you wish to achieve. You set yourself very high standards - and come what may - you abide by them.

(no subject)

Scenes from the family #54:

Mum, on the occasion of her birthday: I have decided that I am not old.
Sam: That's a good way to --
Mum: I'm RETRO!

Well, it works for her. She scored a very nice pen scanner, a Fossil key case, a wee Buddha for her cube (she's going Buddhist, it's fun to spell) and a retractable computer mouse.

Remembering mum's birthday, unlike many others, is easy for me since she was born the day before St. Patrick's Day. Normally even this probably wouldn't leave a mark in my faulty memory, but we once had the following exchange at a family get-together:

Mum: Yeah, your grandfather was glad I was born on the 16th.
Me: Any particular reason?
Mum: He would have been furious to have to celebrate anything on St. Patrick's Day.
Me: *mystified expression*
Mum: He hates the Irish.
Grandfather: *from the other room* I HATE THE IRISH!

Grandfather was English, it was a whole big thing, let's not go there. Especially as a goodly portion of my father's ancestry was Irish.