Wichita Lineman Was A Song I Once Heard

A couple of years ago a group of my friends picked up the catchphrase "Bung! All [noun] is [verb]!". Here's why. Referenced again a couple years later.

It occurred to me as I drove in to work Thursday morning, feeling the greater possibility that I'd fractured something in my foot, that I felt a distinct enjoyment at the injury, because (a) I came by it honestly and it seemed unlikely to be permanent damage, and (b) it gave me something to be nonchalant about. I know I get the latter from my father, but the HR woman at work assures me it's a very common male trait. There's just nothing quite like being able to shrug and say, "Enh, it's not so bad." (Readers will be glad to know that I appear not to have broken anything. The doctor I chose online by virtue of his being a block from my house, turned out to be a fine British gentleman in his fifties or so, whose response when I said I'd done it the previous night was, "Oh, give it time!". He gave me some samples of a prescription anti-inflammatory, and man...I only get prescription drugs once every couple of years, but they keep getting better and better. So my foot is mostly fine.)

The problem with defending the purity of the English language is that the English language is as pure as a crib-house whore. It not only borrows words from other languages; it has on occasion chased other languages down dark alley-ways, clubbed them unconscious and rifled their pockets for new vocabulary. (James Nicoll.)

I had a fine date on Friday night, some nice sushi and chilling and conversation. Any date than ends with making out for a little while is worthwhile, I think.

Someone I met recently was "really taken with my cuteness", the sort of blatant honest compliment that still catches me off-guard. I guess it catches anyone off-guard: why don't we say nice things to each other more often? Clearly we think these things...but there are boundaries of social groups and comfort and shyness, we don't want to look foolish or obsequious. I wonder if everyone said those things more often, if we'd all develop the skills to receive them gracefully. At any rate, for said person to be taken with my cuteness, clearly I'm not actually as crabby in person as I feel, which is heartening. It's silly, of course: I know who I really am, regardless of all the surface crap floating around, and while I am highly complex, I am not any of the things I may fear I am: alone, unlovable, afraid, or harmful to others. There's no going back to how I was before New Year's Eve, 2002, and that's good.