Small, Favored

Huzzah! Spyder is 21 today! It is now perfectly legal to tempt her with pooftah fruity rum drinks, if that sort of thing's your bag.

And may I say that it's been a privelege, these last two and a half years, to have such a smart, talented, funny, all-around wicked cool person not only surface most fatefully into my life, but turn out to be so much on my wavelength that I think of her as the sister I never knew I had.

Welcome to your seat at the official Grownups' Table, mia sorella. Don't worry - you still don't have to act like one.

I Still Ate'nt Dead

It's been a weird couple of weeks and I'm more or less well, though I'm still feeling the lingering effects of the bug I had a week ago, plus seasonal depression, but that's how it works sometimes. In any case, I haven't felt like I've had anything interesting to say for a while. This may be nobody's fault but mine.

I turned down a full-time position at my current place of employment last week, mostly because spending the next year as a file clerk was less appealing than I'd thought at first. ("I don't blame you," said the supervisor to whom I broke the news. "It's a terrible job and you're completely overqualified for it.") I'm still there as a temp, at least for a little while, but the search for satisfying employment continues, as does figuring out what the hell I want to be when I grow up. Aside from "brilliant and famous," that is.

Sadly, the creative well's bit a bit dry of late too, and the several projects I felt all fired up about in recent memory have completely failed to capture my attention. I know, I know - if I was really serious I'd be working on them anyway. Don't remind me.

And, uh, that's all I got these days. I'm sure I'll have much more interesting things to post in the near future. No, really, I promise.