Letting the people who woke you live only means you have to kill them some other time when they wake you again.

But you may have had more sleep at that time, so you'll be more effective with the killing.

But you may have had more sleep at that time, so you'll be more effective with the killing.

Yeah, you wanna kill without the sleep deprivation. Killing itself isn't so hard, but effectively hiding the bodies takes a bit of work, and sometimes a bit of thought.

Because it is hard, and frustrating, and all categorical imperative/Do unto others as you would have them do unto you thing. And frankly, it's very, very hard to do so even when believing in higher-being/humanism. Not because we're petty or shallow, but because it seems against reason: trying to help the very thing that's hurting you. Trying to remember this isn't a "thing", but a person. And at times, realizing they're beyond help, find the inner strength and cut them from your life.

Repeating this because it is excellent.

And it sounds like the text message you got was A) tone-related -- bad attempt at sarcasm, like "What are you, stupid? HELL YEAH! b)this person was too drunk to reply coherently or c) you have mistaken a douchebag for a nice person, and you need to mentally roll your eyes and cross this person off the list of Nice People I Would Like to Gift With My Awesome Presence.

I read it with something like A) as my interpretation. If I'd gotten that text in a similar situation, I would probably respond with, "Dude, I can't read minds. I need to know which bar." I have a specific friend in mind, with whom I can vividly imagine having this conversation.

I can haz purple lipstick.

That is all.

Purple lipstick is pretty awesome. I have some, too.

I read it with something like A) as my interpretation.

Me, too.

Okay, I woke up in a better mood, which is good, but I very much need A Plan, like Erin. Hmm.

On our last day of vacation, one of my mom's friends visited us. The friend came in and hugged my mom and hugged my dad. My mom said, "You remember Hillary," and the friend said, "Of course I do -- I remember that you don't like it, but I'm going to hug you anyway." And the she hugged me as I tried to not shrink away. When she was leaving, I purposely went and sat on the couch and said my goodbyes from there, but the friend actually pushed past my dad to get to me to give me another hug, again while saying, "I know you don't like it." It's not like this is someone close -- last time I saw her was probably 15 years ago. Why do people do this? I hate it. (When I was a kid, my mother was very insistent on kids having personal space, and that no one could hug me or touch me if I said no. Apparently kids get more personal space than adults, because when we were talking about it later, she reluctantly agreed that I do have a right to personal space, but she said that I have to remember that other people like hugs, too.)

Then they should hug other people who like hugs and leave you alone!!! WTF?

Hil, wtf? I'm not sure I could have resisted responding with, "I know you don't like being slapped in the face, but....."

Seriously, that's bad. I am a hugger, and I try to remember who's not. I might accidentally hug someone I'm not supposed to. But I would never remember, tell them I remember, and then hug them anyway. That's just asinine.

Well, I am chilling out with my bonus time. The SO has left for the airport. I need to finish laundering the linens, breaking down the recyclables, and I should probably get dressed at some point, but the house is in reasonable condition for guests. Oh, and I need to grocer.

Only, there's a youth work team that's come in town that is hanging with our other missions buddies this week, and I was thinking about going down to hang with them this afternoon. But that kinda defeats the purpose of introvert time.

I am trying to identify people I want to invite to a very toned-down version of a bachelorette party (think Lily's from 'How I Met Your Mother'. Without the vibrator). My little sis is organising it for me. I am stumped. Turns out, being an antisocial homebody with an ASD whose main interests are reading and television - not ideal for party planning. Even if the party involves tea at Fortnum and Mason's (now that bit I'm up for).

You know, not able to add much to the conversation other than to say how very much I love and admire the Bitches for you all are wise, amazing people.

Oh, and Nora and smonster-- I may be coming up with A Plan, at least perhaps come fall, after my schedule lightens a bit. My New Orleans story is being very, very insistent about my getting to it but for the kind of tone and color I need to make the story sing, I'm going to definitely have to visit. And I'm going to need people who live/love/know the city to show me their NOLA.

Think of it as Barb's Immersion Program.

Of course, this is all dependent on a LOT of things, not the least of which has to do with whether or not I sell the YA that's currently out on submission or have a glimmer of interest on this one, but boy, the more I think about visiting NOLA and getting Buffistas in the process, the more excited I am to write this thing.