Fuck cancer, indeed. That's the problem with time--more opportunity for bad things to happen as well as the good.

Congrats on the raise, Calli!

Oh, ita! Just when I thought I'm all rusty and don't remember how it's done and Nattering all wrong because the thread seemed to be stuck.

[Edit: Oh! Here's something else I didn't do in forever: 3²=9 and 2³=8 and they're all mixed together, for fun, too.]

Just got up to take a couple more pain pills before going back to try and doze in front of the TV.

Oh! I was just looking at the chamsa (sp?) you gave me the other day and re-appreciating the beauty. I really do love that thing, and it goes so nicely on the little section of wall along with other things dear people have given me.

Oh, I'm so glad to read this. Thank you.

Did I tell you that I happened to tell an Israeli friend about the whole NF-Called-msbelle-on-3am-thanks-to-you? She's now not just a fan of him, but also of you. I loaned her Allyson's book. She cried reading your chapter.

I hope the painkillers kill everything they're supposed to.

Damn, Burrell. My sympathies.

I just discovered the visualizer in iTunes. Jelly. Whoa. Mesmerizing. And how to import images to use as albums pictures. And photobooth (man, I wish I'd had this 'puter when mac was here. We coulda goofed off so hard!) Love spaces, makes it like my unix box and my 6 "screens."

I'm so glad I finally got a new computer.

If I'm going to make people cry, Nilly, like that is the best possible way.

Yeah, as long as the painkillers don't kill my breathing. I've taken a couple (or so) more than the recommended dose.

No, not pretty. But it looks like the guy's not fashion so much as conceptual stuff, so I don't worry that it's a sign of teh crazy.

I need to upgrade my Mac OS sometime soon.

I'm so glad I finally got a new computer.

Yay!

like that is the best possible way.

Oh, yeah.

Then she said she wished you wrote a book, so she could read about all these stories from your point of view.

I'm all for the breathing to stay alive and well.

Nilly, what time is it already?

Don't you need to sleep? I mean, I know, shabbat sleep and all, but seriously.

That chapter from my point of view is very short. Goes something much like "oh, bless you!" I don't quite have Allyson's gift.

If I'm looking for something like steel-toed Mary Janes on eBay I'm looking at used, aren't I? I don't want used shoes, but I want the steel toed MJs so badly...

I was just looking at the chamsa (sp?) you gave me the other day and re-appreciating the beauty.

Most of my "things" (and folks can attest I have a lot) are gifts from loved ones. I love them because they are beautiful and I can hold them in my hand and instantly call up the person and occasion. It's something no amount of rental insurance can replace. They are precious to me in the memories they evoke.

My mom always pokes me because whenever she suggests garage-saling or rehoming my multitudes of stuffed animals back at the ranch, I come back with "but so-and-so gave that to me when I was X years old and got at at Y and..." I expect when I get a house, in addition to the truckload of antique furniture that's got my name on it, it'll be a truckload of stuffed animals.

I'm *still* not over Pink Hippopotamus who got lost on the flight back from Prague. Dad gave that to me when I was 3, from the ABQ zoo when he was on business travel. It was my travel companion and always in my bed from 3 until 20 and I think I cried at the airport when I realize he'd disappeared. Dad keeps giving me whatever stuffed pink hippos he finds as solace. They ain't the original, but the sentiment is so dear to me.