Happy is good.

Where’s Blessed Quietness? I always liked Blessed Quietness, especially when we sang it _really loud_.

— Mom, to herself, paging through one of her many hymnals.

Argh. It doesn’t help that all I can hear is Spike Jones.

—  - Mom, while trying to play Liszt’s Liebstraum Nr. 3. 

Fun With Words, Sort Of.

I always have a tough time when it comes to characters who wouldn’t normally refer to their bits and pieces by either the official medical term nor common slang — I never know quite what I should use. Asking the character often results in a blank look and a shrug, ‘cause duh, they don’t know.

I’m not a huge fan of anything that sounds like it came out of a romance novel, so things like ‘manhood’, ‘rod’, and ‘member’ are out. (Besides which, they don’t tend to think of themselves as “men”, so.) Medical terms are too clinical, usually; and common slang is either too cutesy/childish or too rude. 

Bah. It’s all my own fault for liking characters with communications difficulties, really. (And to be honest, I’m grateful that this is one of my worst problems when it comes to writing my current story.)

Oh, Tumblr.

I can always count on you in a pinch. If I need a picture of a ladybug? Tumblr. If I need one of a red-headed woman in boots? Tumblr’s got her. Or if I need one of an uncircumcised man in varying states of arousal—Tumblr has more pictures than I could ever hope to look at. 

Don’t ever change, honey. *Smooch*

This Is Why Editing Is Important:

From the chorus/bridge of David Guetta’s Sexy Chick:

Yes, I can see her
‘Cause every girl in here wanna be her
Oh, she’s a diva
I feel the same and I wanna meet her 

So. Does he feel she’s a diva? Or does he also want to be her? There’s no way to know for sure!

(Frankly, I think the song is somewhat improved by the vocalist also wishing to be a sexy chick, but that’s because I’m weird. Surprise!)

Another Review!

Carol Tierney wrote up a quick little review of Gay Love over at Rude Words. It’s very short, and she only summarizes Adunaid, but that’s okay. 

…I’ve been trying to decide if I should write a review of my own. I wouldn’t review Adunaid, obviously (though I’d probably pick it apart rather than giving it a ridiculously glowy writeup); I’m just sort of feeling like there needs to be more depth or something. *Shrug*

I saw a robin! It flew off before I could take a picture, though.

All bottles have tops.

To keep things in, yes; but they’re removable so you can get things out, too.

I’ve been feeling a little trapped, lately; dissatisfied with everything and I don’t want to post about it because unending negativity isn’t becoming to anyone. (And no one wants to hear it anyhow.)

It’s nothing specific, really, other than it’s spring and as a result most of the rest of the world is doing what spring is all about — pairing off and partnering up.

It’s been warm enough to ride my bike, but I’ve been sleeping instead. Or writing, or working, or otherwise finding things to do besides ride. I need to stop that.

The sleeping isn’t a good sign—it’s one of my escapes (because it’s cheap and I like it).

Still going round with that conundrum I posted before.

I’ve figured a few things out, which is nice, but they’re of no real consequence.

A friend of mine is having a tough time and I’m no good at distance comfort. If I were there, I would simply be with them, feed them or hug them or whatever they needed. Being ca. 3000 miles away, all I have are words, and I’m afraid they’re never enough, never the right ones, never what they need.

And now I need to go to sleep, because I can’t keep my eyes open all that well.

You kids be good to yourselves and one another, and I’ll see you in the morning.

Random Line(s) Of The Day:

Setup: Max and Trev send each other pictures on a regular basis; Max daily and Trevor nearly that. This particular day, Max hasn’t yet sent his picture (he’s been busy with college stuff) and Trev has teased him about it. Max, being Max, comes up with a way to twit Trev while also sending him the requested picture. 

“Tam!”

“Yeah?” Tam lifted his book in greeting.

“Can you give me a hand?” Max held out his mobile. “My friend’s having a crap day and I wanna send him something that’ll distract him, but I need some help.”

“I’m not gonna take a picture of your wedding tackle,” Tam said, making a face at the other man.

Max rolled his eyes and waved his phone. “No, not that. He hates those guys that walk around with their jeans down around their knees, you know? Especially when he sees ‘em from the back. Since I’m wearing a long shirt today…”

“Oh, all right,” Tam said, getting up and putting his book away. “But not in the middle of the union, yeah?”

“Right,” Max said.

(Edited to reinsert Tam’s response. I have no idea how it got eaten the first time I posted this.)

gluttonyisabliss:

Salmon Roe and Quail Yolk (by radmegan)

While I personally can’t deal with sashimi (and it’s all me; if you love it go for it), I love the artistry of sushi. This is a particularly gorgeous example — it looks like jewelry. 

And now I know what Chris and Jesse’s first-ever official date is going to be.