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These kids are driving me nuts.

The baby's playing with a baby toy that used to belong to the boy. And the boy won't leave for school because he wants to play with his old baby toy. Now the baby is screaming and shouting 'Mine!'

I have realized that the second child picks up bad habits out of necessity. The boy never shouted 'Mine' when he was this age. No older child was around to take stuff from him.

Feb. 17th, 2016

It took me ages to remember how to even make a post to livejournal. This takes me back - I feel like I should be sitting at a giant computer desk with a rat on my shoulder.

There is a lot I should be doing right now, but instead I'm ruminating. My mother died a year ago this month. She died suddenly at the tender age of 60.

If I die at 60, my life is over half over with. I was sad to lose my mother, but that was also a frightening thought. It led to something of an existential hiccup. I won't say crisis since it didn't change my life very much. I dragged my feet getting to work because it didn't seem very important, and that got me a talking-to. (I realized that while going to work may not seem important, getting paid and having insurance does. That helped more than anything.) I thought a bit about what I'd like to change about my life, and much of that is on the back burner and nothing has really changed. Other than not having a mother.

I felt like I should try to reconnect with people I have kind of lost contact with. There was one college friend who I hadn't seem much on facebook, so I messaged her and asked how she's doing. She messaged back that she was fine, thanks for asking. While I was glad she was fine and thankful for my interest, I was disappointed that she gave little opportunity to continue a conversation. Then I noticed we weren't facebook friends anymore, which would explain why I hadn't seem much from her. I could either wonder about that an not know, or I could ask. So I asked if I had done anything. She said no and said she made a friends cut for reason x, but she would 'be there' for me if I ever 'need anything.' I remembered reading about reason x before but had forgotten about it. I felt a bit like an ass for forgetting reason x. I went to respond that I understood and would drop it, but she had blocked me. How would she ever know if I need anything from her if I can't talk to her?

She didn't know my mother had died, but I was sick of people telling me that they would help me with 'anything.' That no one's fault and it's something I would have said before experiencing a loss, too. But on the receiving end of everyone telling me that, it just seemed lazy. Someone felt bad, but they would do anything for me, so everyone can feel better. I also had people who let me know they were available if I wanted to talk, or if I wanted them to watch the boys so I could have some time alone. I didn't take them up on that, but greatly appreciated the offers. I think all of those people lost someone close to them in the past and know how much it means to have someone put some thought in their offers and what someone grieving would want.

So I got on my husband's facebook and wrote this girl that while I was sick of this consoling lie, she is the only one to told me that and then blocked me. I would cherish it always. She blocked him.

So that's my fun story. I suppose the moral is to ride out any existential hiccup without changing your life. Don't reach out to restore connections to old friends.
My NaNo post from over a year ago looks much less impressive how. Not that anyone but me would see it.
Indeed, it is not uncommon for slaves even to fall out and quarrel among themselves about the relative goodness of their masters, each contending for the superior goodness of his own over that of the others. At the very same time, they mutually execrate their masters when viewed separately. It was so on our plantation. When Colonel Lloyd's slaves met the slaves of Jacob Jepson, they seldom parted without a quarrel about their masters; Colonel Lloyd's slaves contending that he was the richest, and Mr. Jepson's slaves that he was the smartest, and the most of a man. Colonel Lloyd's slaves would boast his ability to buy and sell Jacob Jepson. Mr. Jepson's slaves would boast his ability to whip Colonel Lloyd. These quarrels would almost always end in a fight between the parties, and those that whipped were supposed to have gained the point at issue. They seemed to think that the greatness of their masters was transferable to themselves.


Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

On an unrelated note, I made it through the first day of Husker football. The store was insane!

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It is a rare book where the protagonist dreams of chaining his girlfriend in the basement and murdering her but he is still a sympathetic character.

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VHD: Dark Road Part 2

A maddening stench filled the forecourt. Those corpses at the bottom of the heap had already putrefied, the eyeballs rolling out on strings of goo and insects working the flesh free of the bones - it seemed that even the blue sky overhead would be corrupted by the rank scene, with its foul miasma and eye-watering stink.

But there were still some who would describe this tableau as beautiful, due solely to the presence of the young man in black astride his steed. All the ugliness and brutality of death was erased by D's good looks. Before this young man, would death itself not blush?

- pg 168
The road lay in shadow. To either side of it were endless rolling plains. Through they were dotted with what looked to be rocky mountains and woods, these did nothing to lift the air of desolation. Spread with gray clouds, the sky occasionally carried the growl of distant thunder. It would probably rain.

All day a horse had been advancing through the wilderness. The continuous stretch of dull tones and identical scenery would drive all emotion from the heart of any rider in the saddle. Anger, joy, and sadness all fused with the ask-gray world leaving a dull weariness in command of the soul. At time like this, travelers might even wish they were dead.

However, this rider was a gorgeous exception. The eyes beneath his wide-brimmed traveler's hat gave off a light that it seemed even the void would fear, and as he rode into an almost imperceptible breeze, the face he had turned forward was so beautiful it could convince anyone that it was not of this world. Men and women alike were paralyzed by it, and even the beasts undoubtedly adored him with one look. However, his beauty was such that all who saw him understood that when his black-gloved hand reached for the hilt of the curved sword peeking over his shoulder, he wouldn't be done until death colored he blade of his weapon.

Both the ashen sky and the ocher plains seemed to exist solely to highlight the rider's magnificence as he and his horse went down the highway. What awaited him at his destination - life or death?

Plugity, Plug Plug Plug

My husband has been published in Hippocampus. If he gets enough comments and shares, he'll get a little something.

It's the creative non fiction story of working at Dakota Watch Company. If he had caught the girl he's pursuing in the story, he'd have a twelve-year-old by now. I consider him lucky. ;)

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Way way back when TLC was educational, they ran a documentary on April 1st about how the world is really flat. I wish I had it.

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Segway reaper by kcwriter
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