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icdedpeople shared Recreational Math.

Math is so sexy.

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for those of you who frequent goth clubs, help darkest_eve build up her playlist.

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serenejournal wrote a little survey...
( q&a here )

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queeniex, someone needs your expertise!!!

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so sad

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probably the only astronaut to have once worked as a circus performer

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happy wedding to sabethea and Jay!!

≠

Faces

The little upside down face that lives beneath my left boob is one year old today.

My other face, a few days ago.

My scar doesn't really bother me. It's not as red as that picture shows (I had to edit the picture to take out red tones in my skin that showed up with my digital camera so the scar would show). It's mostly silvery white with some reddish-purple bits here and there. Occasionally I still get the little zingy jolts of nerve pain in that area (on up toward my heart), nothing much, though. Hiccuping, sneezing, and yawning still ache and jab a little (sometimes a lot). My diaphragm really didn't like being sliced away from my sternum.

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me: "It says the actress who played the mermaid hasn't been in any other films.
boy: "hrm, maybe she was in some underground/underwater porn."
me: "maybe it wasn't underground. maybe it was mainstream."
boy: "i mean, mermaid porn. that's hot."
me: "honey, she's not really a mermaid."
boy, not listening: "i mean, that would explain why she hasn't had any other roles."
me: *stares*
boy: "i guess she could be a newscaster."
me: *stares*
boy: *nervous giggles*
me: "you need help."

fibro and monkeys

So, I'm standing on the kitchen, mixing ingredients for pancakes. I need the four cup measure with the pouring spout, but I have fibro, so I can't remember what it's called. My husband is standing at the sink.

me: "honey, can you hand me that..."

I stand and point at the cupboard over my husband's head.

I get frustrated. "That thing... we use to ... I need it. That thing we use to measure and pour things with."

He grins.

explodingcat, laughing: "The electric fireball thrower?"
I tickle him and promise to burn his pancakes as I head out to the living room to post this exchange to fibromyalgia

I return to the kitchen.
"Honey, please. I need the four-cup measure (it's heavy and stored above my head).
boy: "OH! That's what you wanted. That's not the electric fireball thrower. That's the electric donkey bottom biter."

I stare at him, then turn to my pancake batter.

He proceeds to wash dishes and sing a woeful song about donkey bottom biters. Eventually, he throws in some rai styled vocals. He comes over to take the now dirty mixing bowl from me. "Are you done with this."

"Yeah, but I need this." I hold up the whisk.

He looks at the whisk. "You can keep that."

I laugh.

He's now washing dishes and singing "You can keep the whiiiiiisk."

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Boy is in rare form tonight. I should bring him out just to inflict him on the locals. We've decided to stay in, though. I'm not feeling too hot and I know that if I go out, I'll feel worse.

and absinthea, i just saw Zwan's video "Honestly" on MMUSA. bwahahahahhhaa