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[personal profile] firecat
  • 5 minutes ago: Reading alt.polyamory and my LiveJournal friends list
  • 5 hours ago: Listening to OH argue on the phone with someone at the UC Center on Deafness
  • 5 days ago: Watching Akira
  • 5 weeks ago: Being amazed at the human resilience to disaster, and angry at human simplemindedness, which is undoubtedly related to the resilience.
  • 5 months ago: Preparing for a tag sale and being innocent about how lousy my next five months were going to be.
  • 5 years ago: Taking OH on his first (and so far only) trip to the Other Coast.
Here's something I wrote a bit more than 5 years ago:
I'm a 33 year old woman and last week I had my hair cut at a barber shop. I have a small tail in the back of my head, and I can deadlift ninety-five pounds, and I have a leopard print pillow and a leopard print knitted throw. I live in Northern California, and I make quote files from videotapes of Babylon 5 and roll on a blue vinyl ball 3 feet in diameter.

My partner doesn't have a last name. His blue and white stuffed cat is peeking over the top of the bookcase in the front hallway. I have a panther inside me called Black Heat. I have a lover who lives in an octagonal one-room house down a twisty private road in the Santa Cruz mountains, where the stars blaze. The first morning I woke up there, I stared out the window over the tree strewn hilltops and wept.

I collect percussion instruments and they were overflowing the finished spool table (my second), but recently, I put most of them in a box to make room for the table-top fountain, a ceramic blue bowl stuffed with hunks of slate and smooth elliptoid black stones.

Date: 18 Oct 2001 10:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] xp85goblin.livejournal.com
Old journal entries can sometimes suprise you. I started writing my journal after reading a journal I had started, but didn't have the discipline to keep up from back during my first episode. Instead of saying "Ha ha ha...what a loopy loser", I was somewhat shamed by that person's courage. I guess ten years of comfort can kind of sap that out of you. Oh well, I suppose I made up for it in Atlanta.

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firecat (attention machine in need of calibration)

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