Three AM spam--tastier than ordinary spam.

[chibi_trillian]

You know what sucks?

Being filled with a weird, inchoate longing for something, but not knowing what that something is. Dammit, I want a reason for my strange restlessness. Something other than an urge to do unspecified stuff. Last time this sort of thing kicked in, I almost took a two thousand mile road trip with nothing but the clothes on my back and my purse. It's better than apathy, I suppose, but there are days when I worry for my mental health.

Ran into Riggs and other Darkonians in Denny's yesterday, for an "It's a small world" moment. I ought to start getting back out to events and practice hitting other people with padded sticks.

I wonder if santouryou translates effectively into foam-fighting. God only knows Florentine fighting is popular enough, and I know white-sword hits with the mouth are legal, especially if the fighter in question has lost both their arms and managed to pick up their blade somehow in their teeth. The main issue is making them solid hits--most people don't have enough jaw and neck strength to strike an effective blow with their head. Usually, if a legitimate hit is scored using a blade clenched between the teeth, the person in question did a suicide charge and threw their body weight behind the hit. Not good for the teeth, that.

Betcha Bishiros could give it a good try, though. He's crazy enough and strong enough, and nearly as impervious to pain and injury as the real Zoro.

Friday promises to be either very awkward or very interesting. The Geeky British Boss is hauling me out for lunch that day, and invited the whole department...including some people I'd rather not sit at the same table with. I've got this thing about not liking to eat with people I dislike, be it a muffin or a five-course dinner. Eating is too intimate an act to be shared with people you don't care for, especially when one is eating out because it's your last day at work and you know some of the people at the table are thinking "Good riddance." Ah well, drinks after work are hopefully going to be asshat-free.

I have written nothing today. It feels strange.

Happy birthday, Ethan. Happy Groundhog Day, everyone else.

ETA: Congrats on winning the challenge this week, mettathron. Now you can't bitch at me anymore.

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[chibi-trillian.livejournal.com]

What did I do? Por que, Maria? POR QUEEEEEEE?!