Lilah ,'Destiny'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I think it's already begun, Cin, at least with teens. I see girls all the time at the mall in pajama pants. And sometimes slippers.
Comfy as they are, they're not the most flattering things, you know? With the big stretched out knees and all? Also, being in my jammies reduces me to a state of not wanting to go outside at all, if I can help it.
Go, Cindy!!!
{{{Nora}}} I'm sorry. Much ~ma to your grandmother.
I was woken up at 8:30 by a phone call (TCG's friends haven't caught on the the fact that calling me in the morning whether I am awake or not is never a good idea), but I decided that at least maybe I could be productive. So far, I am still in my pj's drinking tea.
Aimée's still there.
HEY!
KATE!! t tacklehug
Nora, do it. Go home and be you.
Hi, Amy and Aimee!
Aww, Cindy! "Who's a little fear demon?" I do that one all the time now, and it really works! They are so small and pathetic when they are conjured out into the open.
I know that urge to bolt. Hell I know the paralysis that keeps me at home, and inside and safe from the urge to bolt, and how many fun and interesting experiences have I missed because of them?
Good on you for toughing your way through it. (Is it appropriate to comment here? Should I do it offline? I feel like I'm relearning how to live in polite society.)
Before, when I didn't know the answer to "What's the point?" my quote was Natalie Wood from Miracle on 34th Street: "I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe." Because little demons made me not believe there was a point, but I still did, somehow, sometimes.
Not many people knew why I withdrew - depression robbed me of my words. Even answering a simple email was intimidating - all that blank white space and no words to fill them, even to say "I'll meet you at 7:00 on Saturday." I was ashamed of it, quite frankly. When I got my words back, I filled pages and pages. I've lost a lot of my old style; it may or may not come back. What I write feels honest, though, and the words are there; sometimes struggling mightily to come out. I'll take it.
SA, for what it's worth, I think you're approaching this in just the right way. When I look at the people in my life who most love what they do, and are most successful at what they do, the common thread I see in their lives is that they've always just done what they wanted to do, and then found more stuff they wanted to do, while they were doing stuff they wanted to do.
Thanks. That's kind of what I'm hoping for. Also, it's the first thing I've been excited about in eight months--well, longer, really, more like a fifteen months--so I figure I'm probably moving in the right direction.
Not the first to say it, but KATEFATE!! Missed you, hon!
Well... the girlfriend was institutionalized and the marriage broke up but I don't think you can blame that on Kokomo. At least not all of it!
I've been to Kokomo--a lot and I think you can.
I'm having trouble keeping Owen off the kitchen counter today. he just opened up a ziplock bag with the biscuits left over from breakfast. I'll bet it's lunch time.
INteresting morning with Emeline. She wanted to take her babies in the car with her. I tried to get her to agree to one baby. Daddy would take care of the other one all day.
"Which baby do you want to take? You can't take both. Do you want Princess baby or Tomboy baby? No, you can't have both, just one."
We took both.
As we were driving to school, I decided to change Em's name to Sophie.
::nodding along with Cashmere::
Yet another beautiful Amy! Hi!
Aimee, can she do accents?
Totally appropriate, katefate -- it was a public LJ entry. I just didn't want to put it here, because it turned out so long and because I actually started it in response to your posts, and then felt like I was making your depression all about me Me ME, and didn't want to do that, either, because I'm so glad you're back here.
Before, when I didn't know the answer to "What's the point?" my quote was Natalie Wood from Miracle on 34th Street: "I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe." Because little demons made me not believe there was a point, but I still did, somehow, sometimes.
This is HUGE! I only dabble in mild depression, so I can't speak to what you're fighting in any way specific to depression. But I think, in general, just because we can't see a point, that doesn't mean there isn't one. I mean, think about all the things that work, but the workings are hidden to us. You can't see an antibiotic fight off infection. You can't see your body take nutrients from food. You can't see feelings. Sometimes, we can't see a point.
Not many people knew why I withdrew - depression robbed me of my words.Bastard. It robbed us, too.
Even answering a simple email was intimidating - all that blank white space and no words to fill them, even to say "I'll meet you at 7:00 on Saturday." I was ashamed of it, quite frankly. When I got my words back, I filled pages and pages. I've lost a lot of my old style; it may or may not come back. What I write feels honest, though, and the words are there; sometimes struggling mightily to come out. I'll take it.This is so good, and so good that you're telling us, too. That's a big win, by itself.
Comfy as they are, they're not the most flattering things, you know? With the big stretched out knees and all? Also, being in my jammies reduces me to a state of not wanting to go outside at all, if I can help it.
Da man's so in your blood, you can't even see how oppressed you are. Up the revolution!